THE WAILING MAMMY-WATER PRINCESS

The Wailing Mammy Water Princess

In the heart of Africa, nestled between rolling hills and lush forests, lay the village of Ngara. Life in Ngara was simple, bound by traditions that had stood the test of time. Yet, a shadow had fallen over the village. On the longest day of the year, the villagers of Ngara prepared to revive an ancient solstice ritual, one buried in the sands of time. This year, however, the revival carried a darker purpose.

A strange affliction had befallen the village: children would die before reaching their first week. The villagers were gripped by desperation and fear. Meetings were held in hushed tones under the old baobab tree, where the elders, in their wisdom—or perhaps in their madness—sought a solution to this mystery.

"We must appease the spirits," declared Elder Mgbada, his voice trembling with age and authority. "It is the only way."

"But how?" asked Nnadi, a young father who had recently lost his newborn son. "We have tried everything. Prayers, offerings, nothing works!"

"There is one way," said Elder Anunu, her eyes dark and foreboding. "An ancient ritual, abandoned centuries ago. We must sacrifice the youngest born child to the river spirits."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. The youngest born child was Adanna, a four-year-old girl with wide, innocent eyes and a gentle smile. Her mother, Nneka, clutched her to her chest, tears streaming down her face.

"No!" Nneka cried. "Not my Adanna. Please, there must be another way!"

"The spirits demand it," Elder Mgbada said solemnly. "If we do not act, more children will die."

Reluctantly, the villagers agreed. They believed it was the only way to save their village. As the sun set on the eve of the summer solstice, they gathered by the riverbank, their faces etched with sorrow and fear.

Adanna, dressed in a simple white gown, was brought forth. She looked up at her mother, confused and scared.

"Mama, why are they doing this?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Hush, my child," Nneka whispered, her heart breaking. "Be brave. The spirits will protect you."

With heavy hearts, the villagers cast Adanna out to the evil forest, a place feared and shunned by all. As they performed the ritual, dark clouds gathered, and a heavy rain began to fall, an unusual occurrence for the dry season. The rain grew heavier, turning into a deluge that caused the river to overflow.

As the waters rose, the villagers watched in horror as their homes and lives were swept away. The river, once a source of sustenance, became a torrent of destruction, washing away everything in its path. In the midst of this chaos, Adanna remained unharmed. She stood in the eye of the storm, untouched by the rising waters, as if protected by an unseen force.

Unknown to the villagers, Adanna was favored by the spirits, for she was the Mammy Water Princess, a mystical being of the water. The attempt to sacrifice her had awakened her true nature. As the floodwaters receded, the village of Ngara was no more. Only Adanna survived, her transformation complete.

Years passed, and Adanna, now known as the Wailing Mammy Water Princess, roamed the rivers and oceans, her cries hauntingly beautiful, drawing those who heard her song. She mourned her lost village, her wails echoing through the waters. It was said that she searched for familiar souls, seeking to find one who might be an incarnation of her people.

One evening, a group of fishermen gathered by the river, sharing stories of the mysterious wails they had heard.

"I heard her last night," said Chidi, a seasoned fisherman. "Her voice, it was like music, but so sorrowful. It sent shivers down my spine."

"I heard her too," added Ifeanyi, his younger companion. "They say she's looking for someone. Do you think it's true?"

"My grandfather used to say," Chidi began, "that the Wailing Mummy Water Princess sings a song. A song of longing and loss. If you hear it, you must not follow, or you'll be lost to the river forever."

Curiosity piqued, the fishermen decided to stay by the river that night, hoping to hear the fabled song. As the moon rose high in the sky, a gentle, mournful melody began to fill the air. It was Adanna, her voice weaving through the night like a ghostly lullaby.

The Song of the Wailing Mammy Water Princess:

In the depths of the river blue,

I search for souls I once knew.

Lost to time and endless night,

Come to me, my heart's light.

Chorus:

Oh, spirits of the water deep,

Hear my song, my vigil keep.

In the waves where shadows creep,

Come to me, my lost, my sleep.

Beneath the moon's soft, silver glow,

Through the waters, I must go.

Seeking faces from the past,

In the currents, drifting fast.

Chorus:

Oh, spirits of the water deep,

Hear my song, my vigil keep.

In the waves where shadows creep,

Come to me, my lost, my sleep.

Tears like raindrops fall in streams,

Waking me from endless dreams.

Find me where the river bends,

Where the sorrow never ends.

Chorus:

Oh, spirits of the water deep,

Hear my song, my vigil keep.

In the waves where shadows creep,

Come to me, my lost, my sleep.

As the last notes of her song faded into the night, the fishermen felt an overwhelming sadness. They knew the legend was true. Adanna's song was a call to those who had perished, a never-ending search for the souls of her lost village.

Ifeanyi, entranced by the music, stood up, moving towards the river.

"No, Ifeanyi!" Chidi shouted, grabbing his friend's arm. "Do not follow the song!"

Ifeanyi shook his head, as if waking from a dream. "I... I felt her pain. It's so strong, Chidi. How can we help her?"

"There is nothing we can do," Chidi said sadly. "She is bound to the river, forever searching. We can only remember her and tell her story."

The legend of the Wailing Mammy Water Princess spread far and wide. Travelers and villagers alike spoke of the hauntingly beautiful song that could be heard on quiet nights by the river. Many claimed to have seen her, a ghostly figure with sad, searching eyes.

One day, a young girl named Amara, drawn by the stories, decided to find Adanna. She had lost her family in a flood years ago and felt a strange connection to the princess. Determined, she made her way to the riverbank where the village of Ngara once stood.

As the sun set and the longest day of the year came to an end, Amara heard the familiar, mournful melody. She closed her eyes, letting the song wash over her, feeling the sorrow and longing in every note.

"Adanna," Amara whispered. "I am here. I will help you find peace."

The river began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. Slowly, a figure emerged from the water, her hair flowing like the river itself, her eyes filled with tears.

"Who are you?" Adanna asked, her voice a mere whisper.

"I am Amara," the girl replied. "I have come to help you. You do not need to search alone."

Adanna looked at Amara, sensing a kindred spirit. For the first time in centuries, she felt a glimmer of hope.

"Thank you, Amara," she said, her voice breaking. "Perhaps, together, we can find the souls of my village."

From that day forward, Amara and Adanna searched the waters together, their bond growing stronger with each passing year. They became the guardians of the river, their story a testament to the enduring power of love, loss, and hope.

The legend of the Wailing Mammy Water Princess and her loyal companion Amara continued to be told, a reminder of the ancient solstice ritual and the unexpected power it had unleashed. In the heart of Africa, the memory of Ngara lived on, forever entwined with the melody of the river and the song of its princess.