By Omoruyi Uwuigiaren
Tonight during story time take a trip
to the heart of Africa.
Make new friends including a clutter
of cats otherwise known as The City Heroes. Follow a pair of jungle ants as
they rescue their friend from a raging storm. Tag along with a country boy as
he hunts wild birds to prepare a feast for his father's arrival. Understand the
true meaning of mercy and charity when a stranger is caught stealing eggs from
a farmer. Help a baby named Thomas find his way home after he strays from his
father's boat. Follow Blaize and his newfound canine friend Thatcher as they
thwart a group of kidnappers in Blaize and the Master of Enchantment.
Beautifully illustrated pictures help
tell all six stories including The City Heroes, The Jungle Ants, The Country
Boy, Stranger on the Farm, Baby Thomas and Blaize and the Master of Enchantment.
Encounter adventures beyond your wildest dreams, learn about the beautiful
country of Nigeria, and see how easy and how fun it is to learn about a new
culture in the heart of Africa.
The City Heroes and other stories
from the Heart of Africa by Nigerian writer Omoruyi Uwuigiaren is a perfect
introduction for young readers to learn about the African experience. Suitable
for middle grade readers, the stories within the collection contain messages
and themes about forgiveness, charity, redemption and loyalty all from a
decidedly African perspective.
EXCERPT OF THE CITY HEROES
“Three
nights ago I chased a rat into his kitchen. The little devil disappeared into a
hole in the wall, which was near my master’s soup pot. I wanted to leave the
kitchen, but I knew that as soon as I’d gone, the rat would come out of the
hole and devour the soup. So I stayed back to keep vigil over the old man’s
meal and possibly snuff the life out of the foolish rat if he ventured out of
hiding. As I lay silently in the corner, hoping I would take care of the
unfortunate soul if the opportunity presented itself, I heard a squeak and was
not disappointed when I raised my head and saw the rat. It was heading towards
the soup pot on the table. Seeing that the rat was too close to the pot, I
pounced.” Dag paused and fought gallantly to hold back his tears. “But I missed
the little devil and fell on the pot, and the soup poured out. The rat, happy
with my fate, squeaked and disappeared through a little opening on the window
frame.” Dag heaved at the indignity of his memory.
“It was silly of the rat to mock you,”
Pork reacted.
Dag continued. “The disturbance almost
presented me with a meal, it’s true. But before I had even a taste of the soup
my master, an old dwarf of a man, rushed into the kitchen and pointed his torch
in the direction of the chaos. He found me at the center of the mess and was disappointed.
His face went red with rage because he thought I was trying to feast on his
soup. This might have been true if I’d had the opportunity, but before I could
blink, he grabbed the broomstick by the doorpost and gave me the beating of my
life. When I finally broke free of his angry grip, I fled from the kitchen.
That night I slept on a mango tree by the old fence in his compound.”
Pork’s countenance fell. “Anybody in
your master’s shoes would have done the same. Don’t get me wrong; I do not mean
that you were at fault. You had good intentions, but your master did not
understand. Well, such is life! And don’t blame yourself, because mistakes make
our world go round. Like every cat, your duty is to get rid of the rats. But
that was not your night, Dag, and apparently your master could not understand
why such a deed was committed under his roof.”
“I doubt if he will ever trust me
again,” Dag said sadly. “I have not been myself since he chased me out of the
house.”
“Don’t be drowned by your misfortune.
And don’t expect too much from people. Let it go, Dag. The only thing that is
constant in life is change. Besides, you are not the only one with a sad story.
Fred told me that his master’s new wife doesn’t like him,” Pork said. He looked
at Fred, who frowned as if he had not tasted a befitting meal for a while.
“That’s too bad,” said Dag.
Fred spoke in his kindest voice:
“Every cat knows how important it is to be loved by the master and his family.”
Dag coughed a bit and said, “So true!
At my age, I have no business with people who do not love me. But as long as I
get my meals, I’m okay.”
“I understand you, Dag. But what
happened to me was a miserable experience. My master’s wife is a witch!” Fred
disclosed.
Pork was alarmed. “Ah, that’s a
horrible suspicion.”
“I know what I am saying. I cannot
count the number of times that she threw me from the balcony,” Fred replied.
“What?” Dag mused. “You mean she threw
you from the second story of the building?”
Fred nodded. “Yes! The last time she
did it; I fell on top of a car and fractured my leg.”
“So that’s why we didn’t see you for a
few weeks,” Dag said with a frown.
“I had to stay away to avoid
embarrassing questions,” Fred replied.
“Was your master aware of her
treachery?” Pork asked.
“No!” Fred replied.
“That’s where you went wrong. If I
were you, I would have disgraced his wife before him,” Pork boasted.
“How?” Fred drew his haunches into a
tight ball as the stars began to disappear from the bare chest of the sky.
“Good
question… I would make sure he saw me as soon as he returned home,” Pork
replied.
“I tried it several times. But the
woman always locked me out. My master never once set his large, innocent eyes
on me,” Fred said.
Dag cleared his throat as if an idea
had flown into his head. “I wonder when all this will end. If we are not
beaten, then we are killed without guilt or mercy, like an antelope that strays
into the den of a deadly predator.”
“I do not foresee any end to our
tragedies because the people do not care about us. They seem to be swimming in
a strange pool. They are selfish and self-centered. To be optimistic, our
victory might be in the next world,” Fred declared.
Pork disagreed with them: “We are not
all suffering. Blaize has a good master and he is doing well.” He looked about.
“I wonder why the little soul is not here. Maybe he is under the spell of
sleep. Of course that is what to expect when the going is good.”
“Why would a rich cat venture into
such a humble neighborhood to find his meal? Blaize told me he has the luxury
of feasting on the same fare as his master, whose heart flows with the milk of
human kindness,” Fred said.
Suddenly, a strange movement from
behind alarmed them. “Who is that?” Dag inquired. He cast a weak glance at the
darkness that wrapped itself around the silent night.
“Who do you think?” said a tiny voice,
laughing.
Blaize advanced grinning from ear to
ear, his tail held high and the tip curled forward. “Good evening, guys?” he
greeted.
“Blaize, it’s you!” Dag smiled and
thrust his face forward, as if trying to spy a thief on a cold night. “I didn’t
know that you would be here tonight. And what is it that you’ve brought with
you?”
“A roasted fish—for you guys,” Blaize
replied and dropped the meal before them. A ray of hope flushed over their
faces. Pork smiled like a man under the spell of liquor. “Fish from you,
Blaize?” He moved a few steps closer and smelled the fish. “It smells like the
gate of heaven!” he said. Then he looked at Dag and Fred and said, “What are we
waiting for?”
And all three cats feasted as if there
were no tomorrow.
“The
stars have disappeared,” Blaize observed. “Let’s make it snappy; I am afraid it
may rain tonight.”
“Rain is good,” said Pork. “It washes
the dust away.” Then he returned to the meal.
Blaize was apologetic: “The fish seems
not enough for you guys. Perhaps you will need to find something else to eat in
the neighborhood.”
“The neighborhood is for all of us,”
Dag said, chewing noisily. The joy of all three cats almost reached the high
heaven as they licked their mouths and the meal settled well in their bellies.
“Thanks, Blaize,” said Pork. “What a
lovely way to begin the evening.”
“What are friends for?” said the
fortunate Blaize. “I would give more if I had my way.”
“Now, let’s see what we can get in the
neighborhood,” Dag suggested.
Enthusiastic Fred agreed. “Not a bad
idea!”
Blaize led the way down the bungalow’s
rainspout, and one after the other, they disappeared into the warm hands of the
darkness.
PUBLISHER: Open Books
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