It was just a lake of its own, round like the sun, elliptical like the moon, surrounded by long, spicy grass, its uniqueness quite sinister. A couple made their tentative approach towards it, the woman carrying a white spotless female hen with her, the man with a calabash of dog milk and coconut water. “You shouldn’t have brought that hen,” he whispered. “This was what I could afford,” she whispered back.

She stepped forward and got to the edge of the lake. She lowered her countenance and sobbed, “O river lord, my husband and I ask for the fruit of the womb. I give this to you as a gift.” She tossed the hen unto the lake. “Take, and grant my request, O river lord.” She came back to her husband.

After a moment, he came to the edge of the lake as well and went down on his knees. He placed the calabash in front of him and said, after another moment, “River lord, I am your servant. I have come to make this plea to you. Bless my woman. Uproot her barrenness. I ask this of you, almighty river lord, I your humble servant. Place your divine hands on us. Give us a share of your prosperity and reign. Continue to bless us always and we shall grant unto you our undying services.” He discovered a broken glass and gorged out his left eye with it.

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