_By:Esef Atan -Akpaniko_

For generations, under the watchful glow of the moon, elders have woven tales that shape the moral compass of the young. These stories, far from mere entertainment, are cautionary whispers passed down through time. One such tale speaks of a cunning black snake and a prideful hunter.


The moon, a silent witness, bathed the forest floor in silver as the hunter stalked his prey. A rustle in the undergrowth alerted him, and there, coiled beneath a luminous moonbeam, lay a magnificent black snake. The serpent, sensing danger, spoke in a sibilant voice, warning the hunter to leave it be. The hunter, fueled by arrogance and a thirst for conquest, ignored the plea. With a swift strike, he ended the snake's life.
But the tale doesn't end there. The snake, in its final throes, uttered a chilling prophecy. Its flesh, it warned, was not meant for human consumption. The hunter, blinded by greed, dismissed the warning as mere snake talk. He built a fire, roasted the snake, and devoured it with relish.


Later that night, as the moon dipped below the horizon, the hunter doubled over in excruciating pain. A cold, slithering sensation filled his abdomen. He writhed in agony, his screams echoing through the silent forest. The snake, whole and alive, had burrowed from within, reclaiming its stolen form and escaping back into the night.


This cautionary tale serves as a stark reminder: sometimes, what seems like easy prey holds a hidden power. Ignoring warnings, especially from those we deem lesser, can have dire consequences. Last season, the sirens of the mermaids lured the sailors to their watery graves with enchanting songs. Next season, the sailors will sit stoic by the cliffs, deaf to the new lullaby, their hearts hardened by the echoes of past folly. The moonlit whispers, though soft, hold a wisdom worth heeding.