Once upon a time, there was a gathering of children in a remote village telling stories with the eldest man of the kindred.
As the culture of the village required, stories were told to the youths on the night of the eighth market day, especially during the season of the moon.
Most times, the old man would delegate the storytelling to a selected elder, to inform the younger ones about their people’s culture and legendary folk tales. Sometimes questions from the children would spark an impromptu story with traditional lessons, often regarding cultural taboos and ethics of the land. On this occasion, one of the children asked for the story of the hippopotamus and the river birds. In response, the elder began…
Once, in the land of the animals, an epidemic spread like wildfire throughout the land. It threatened all who lived there, especially the bigger ones that ate flesh, who left behind carcasses that supported the worms that carried the disease. It so happened that the only cure for this malady was for the smaller animals to enter the mouths of their larger rivals and perform the risky task of picking out the worms before the disease could take hold.
The crisis provided an opportunity for some of the smaller animals to launch retaliatory measures against the big cats and others who would devour them in times of famine and hardship. The squirrels and grass cutters, among others, decided to use the cleaning exercise to cause havoc among the larger creatures, who were the bullies in town.
Unfortunately, it being a risky job, some of the smaller animals did not survive, as the big carnivorous cats saw fit to catch them in their mouths and sent them to their untimely deaths. All entreaties by elders to the big cats to stop devouring their little helpers were met with silence.
As a result, the remaining little animals conspired to turn the tables on their larger oppressors by causing the virus to spread as they did their work. They did this by pushing the worms further down the throats of the larger animals, and escaping as fast as possible if there were any signs of the jaw moving to grind. As the conflict raged on, and the disease continued to spread, another class of animal kept its distance: the hippopotamus.
The big one, as it was fondly called, decided to steer clear from its larger counterparts, instead consulting the birds on the river bank to sort out his problem, and that of his species. After negotiating and pleading with the birds on their safety, they decided to send a few of their kith and kin to test the hippo’s trustworthiness.
Just as he agreed, the birds’ work went about unhindered. As a result, most of the hippopotamus species survived the epidemic, while at the same time bonding with the river birds. This is why anywhere the hippo goes today, you will see the river birds around it, looking to see if there are little worms and ants that threaten the health of their much larger friend. It is also why there’s an old adage our elders often use that says: “It is not love but the quest for cleanliness that causes the hippopotamus to open his wide mouth for the river bird to peck at.”
