Tribal Echoes: Restoring Hope

Contents

DEDICATION

FORWARD

AUTHOR’S REMINDER

No matter where you were born or live, Culture Matters

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

About The Book

The Color Of My Skin

Part One

How It All Began

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

THE BIRTH OF A HERITAGE

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Part Two

A Collection of Inspirational Stories

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Illustrations and Glossaries

STATES, CAPITALS, AND SYMBOLS

BIAFRA CURRENCY at the time of war

IGBO ALPHABETS

ROMAN NUMERIALS IN THE IGBO LANGUAGE

(NON-METRIC STYLE)

Igbo alphabets pronounciation guide

Male body parts in igbo language

Female body parts in igbo language

Igbo/English Glossary

COLORS IN IGBO

English Connotations/Equivalents of Igbo Names

Igbo Names And Their Unique Meanings

Think About These For A Moment

References

DEDICATION

Chinelo Dike, Chinedu Dike, KeleChi Dike, and Chimaobim Dike; my remarkable children: You embrace me wholly, inspire me everyday, and love me tenderly. I love you.

Victoria Chimaluoge DenChukwu; my beautiful and ever-loving mother: Thank you for being my rock. Nne m oma, I love you.

Priscilla DenChukwu-Agwu; my loving sister, Kingsley, Eman, Okey and Okwudili DenChukwu; my loving brothers: You all have a place in my heart. Thanks for those special times we share. You have made me better. I love you.

And

In loving memory of my sister:

Obby Francesca DenChukwu-Nweze: My Guardian Angel. You instilled in me all that is good. I know you are resting in the bosom of our Lord. We’ll meet again.

FORWARD

"As we navigate through our personal journeys, we often forget the trials and tribulations that have transpired before our Earthly existence. In doing so, we develop a disconnection between our previous bloodline, thus nearly severing the connection with offspring to come.

Being open to new ideas (and not-so-new ones) allows us to re-establish that connection that we so desperately need to truly identify our birth-given royalty. I was delighted to find such rich, authentic ideals and stories in this publication.

What gets overlooked is the transitional period one must experience when moving from one cultural environment to another. The gestures, language barriers, social issues, faux pas, and varying physical appearances are all taken too seriously because of lack of understanding, tolerance, and knowledge.

In a world where we’re quick to judge, condemn, or even praise and edify, it’s refreshing to read words on a page that exemplify the grass roots effect of common human decency that is not so common anymore.

When you’re seen as someone from the outside, it’s imperative that you rekindle with your insides. You are no stranger to God; therefore you are kept in His good graces…always. And it’s those good graces that carry you when you cannot stand; they give you strength in your moment of weakness and provide light in your darkest hour.

This book is heartfelt, eye-opening, and as real as it gets. In a world where change is the only constant, preparing yourself to the best of your ability for life’s hills and valleys is your best defense. The vivid and encouraging stories found in these pages will certainly awe you; it will open up a whole new life’s perspective for you on the trials that we all endure on all levels. Prepare to shed tears, and shout in joy. You will be immersed in deep thoughts.

Tribal Echoes is certainly a bestseller!"

Erika Gilchrist The Unstoppable Woman, Chicago, IL. Award-Winning Speaker & Acclaimed Author

Seldom in the present generation of lettered Igbo parents and pundits, do we find such bold expose of wits and solid determination to sustain the Igbo language and culture through literary work. The biting realities displayed in TRIBAL ECHOES cry out loud for brave ambassadors in rare mold of the author. DenChukwu writes in beautiful punch notes that invite all hands on the deck, for concerted action to save a nation. Chi ndi-Igbo gozie gi, nwaada.

Isi-Ichie Ben Okpala (Omenanwayo), Houston, Texas.

Author & Educator

AUTHOR’S REMINDER

Nelson Mandela reminds us of the essence of education when he said; Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.

Therefore, if you are a citizen of a country by birth (Jus Solis), it does not determine your root. Your bloodline (Jus Sanguineous) is your heritage. It is important and necessary to educate yourself about your lineage. You will be amazed at what you will find. This, I know for a fact.

No matter where you were born or live, Culture Matters

I have always been inspired by the differences in culture. In Africa, some regions enjoy close similarities in all aspects of their traditional practices. As a whole, they are similar. But the small differences are generally noted in degrees and finesse in pageantry, and in the particular belief that had been laid down through the ages. The Igbo culture is unique in values. You could tell an Igbo person in a crowded room, even before he opens his mouth. And not just from the way he carries his bags, but from a number of these eclectic superlatives with his notably heavy presence: The foods, the attires, and if his name doesn’t tell you something, his music will, as so will his dance routine, and the bragging that follows regarding the traditional marriage ceremonies. However, it is the Igbo names that have the potential to run one through the mill… in a good way. Not only do I love the stories some of the names carry with them, there is also that rich resonance that invokes panache, and then the symbolism present in every chatter, that has the potential to elevate the man or woman who bears it. Hear this: DIKE A N’AGBALU IZU…

This book is an effort to encourage every race, especially the Igbos, to love the beauty of their native tongue. All languages are unique and beautiful in all of their passages. In as much as we have tried to imbibe or try to adapt into a culture that is not ours, we should strive not to lose the culture and traditions we were born into. That is the threat most cultures and believes face, especially with the Igbos. Our heritage distinguishes us from all others. It is true; where we come from makes each of us inimitable.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

"First, I acknowledge the One Spirit who sees me, hears me, and loves me graciously every season; My God. I thank You for the graces in my life: For the gift of life and love, the gift of health, the gift of hope, the gift of laughter, the gift of wisdom, the gift of family, and the gift of true friends. Thank you Father, for simply loving me, inspite of my imperfections…

IkeChukwu Obasi aka Iyke:

Thank you for the encouragement and the inspiration. And thank you for cracking me up with your sense of humor.

Chinedu Madubuike aka Bangkok:

You are one of my angels on earth. Thank you ‘Banky’ for always thinking of me, and considering me.

Christy Ray-Okoye:

My sister, Obby, could not have chosen a more loving best friend than you. Thank you for being you.

Aku Aghazu-Fabusoye:

You hurt when I hurt and smile when I smile. I am thankful that you are my soul sister, and my best friend.

Chinazor Iwuoha-Ikpegbu:

You find ways to keep my hopes alive. They make me richer. Thank you for being my all-weather friend.

Chukwueloka Don Okolo:

My compadre in the arts and a great friend, thank you for so much time.

Dr. Chris Ulasi:

Thank you for your support.

Ugo Sabi-Nweke:

Thank you for your encouraging words. It is great to know that I have a sister next door.

Uju and Sylvan Odobulu:

Thank you for your friendship and support.

Oby Onyeama-DenChukwu, Queen Chukwu-DenChukwu and Mosun Adetola-DenChukwu:

I am glad you are part of my family.

Ugonwa Nweze, Nkiruka Nweze and Chidera Agwu; my nieces:

It feels great knowing that I am in your thoughts. I love you.

Azuka & Roy Chukwu, Yvonne Mbanefo, Dr. Augusta Onwas, Ejike E. Okpa II, Nikki Ajiereen, Adaobi Onyeama, Anthony Ogbo, McDon Ndu, Chike Nweke, Dr. Magdy Rizk, Njide & Wale Adeduntan, Juelle-Ann Daley, Yvonne Chiana, Prince Aboy Aniagu, Buife Nsofor, Jesus Avila, Ifeoma Chukwujindu, Barbi Barkley, Dr. Loretta Mbaduagha, Nnameka Anagbogu, D. Christine Brown, Daniella Cisneros, Chioma Obasi, Ifeoma Opene-Obi, Anthony Igbinovia, Constance Okeke, Doris Ibekwe, Ndubuisi Nebo, Anthonia Okafor, and Olendu Okorafor:

You have each supported me one way or the other. I appreciate you. Thank you.

ND

About The Book

TRIBAL ECHOES is about restoring hope. It is a book about a compelling tribe of people. It chronicles the varying cultures among tribes, especially that exclusive one that belongs to the Igbos of Eastern Nigeria. Among other things, it is a social commentary on a range of issues. The book also details the importance of early childhood education and how one’s culture is entwined with it.

As parents, guardians and community leaders, it is therefore imperative that through proper nurturing, our children are aware of their cultural heritage from early childhood. Every parent should embark on this journey to teach their children the ways of their ancestors. The quest at making children culturally aware has its benefits. In the likely event that they are successful, it would come handy in shaping the child, especially that spiritual foundation that always seems to guide certain, if not all behaviors.

Tribal Echoes is about the liberation from the shackles of Colonial conditioning. However, a brief history of Nigeria makes the cut. The customs and traditions of the Igbo nation, their language/dialects, and names, are part of the reason this book was written. Part two of the book is fictional. It is a collection of short stories inspired by the Igbo language and culture.

The Color Of My Skin

It is true that first generation African-American families brought to the new world did not drop from spaceships, they came in slave ships. Somehow, somewhere in time past, many Africans, young and old were abducted from different parts of the beautiful continent of Africa and sold into slavery. They were shipped to the New World called ‘America.’ Overtime, they became ‘African-Americans.’

U.S citizens, including African-Americans, are fortunate to have been born in America. Millions of people from all nationalities dream of coming to America. In almost every case with these immigrants, they hope that someday they would become U.S citizens, or at least, obtain a permanent residency status. They would rather not be tagged ‘Aliens,’ legal or not!

Every race has its unique and prominent features, values and culture. Africans are distinguished by their diverse nationalities, physical features and inimitable traditions. They vary in beliefs, languages, dialects, tribes, foods, clothing, music, arts, and more. When you see someone from the Horn of Africa, an Ethiopian for example, there is an obvious fact that stands out. Their distinct facial feature is apparent just as it would be with a similar encounter with a Chinese or an Indian.

Pause for a second. Delete all forms of discrimination, all superiority and/or inferiority complex from the frame of your mind. Now, ask yourself: Who is an immigrant in the United States?

Given what we know about American history, this question must exclude the Native Americans. When this question is examined, it could go back to the beginning of time…the time before Christ and even beyond. One generation begets another. This cycle of life or bloodline will continue as long as there is life. It is true to say that the human race is inter-connected. The things that connect us are many and will remain eternally unbroken.

In recent genealogical studies, African-Americans have been known to trace their roots to particular tribes in Africa. The same goes with the larger white population, whose roots go back to Europe and Asia. Among African-Americans, the surprising oneness in heritage becomes a given. Every American therefore, with the exception of the Native Americans, is an immigrant.

The African countries with the most connection with mainland African-Americans are Ghana, Cameroon, Kenya, Nigeria, Liberia, and Senegal. There are no surprises whatsoever. Only it is amazing when I see an African-American that clearly resembles someone I know in Nigeria.

Skin color is that unique fabric of oneself that cannot be traded in any marketplace. It is my inheritance, bestowed upon me by nature. Nothing could delete that glaring fact. It is therefore a big part of what makes me stand out.

Before I came to the United States, like many, I had a perception of America. I saw America as heaven here on earth. I admired, and still do, the beauty in their beliefs and the kind of hope that America offers her citizens and immigrants.

My orientation growing up in Nigeria as an Igbo girl was culturally rich. I was nurtured in the Igbo culture, yet exposed to the fullness of the cultural and social images of America. That does not preclude her politics.

American products, her famous and the not-so-famous people, signature way of life, and that accent that is uniquely American, were the driving forces behind the appreciation many of us had. I had hopes for a better life and a brighter future. Ultimately, coming to America seemed like the place to start. So I dreamed of America until it became a reality.

Living in the United States has not been a bed of roses. There have been struggles, not all of which were flagrant. But the bad experiences were complex in nature, and I had soon begun to question a lot of things. And neither was it rare; the struggles of being an African in this vast temperate region. Even in the midst of subtle and not-so subtle discrimination, as practiced by some, the drastic changes in climate had its toll. And then, to be called an ‘Alien’ in the country of aliens?

But, I did not once take my eyes off the ball. The values I brought with me, sustained me. For one, I had a strong maternal figure in my mother who guided and nurtured me. That did not and could not have goaded me to forget some of those sweet and sour experiences as an African living in America. Some of those experiences have helped in shaping the woman that I am today. And they have continued to energize me, and strengthen my way of thinking.

Some of my bitter-sweet experiences started in the East Bay Area of California. While a student at a community college, I was exposed to people from different nationalities, including African-Americans. Some were very hostile because I had an African accent. Others were unkind and indifferent when they related to me because I did not dress chic and/or perhaps did not routinely fix my hair as would a typical African-American female. Not even a French manicure would do to elevate my social status to the level that would be appreciated. I knew that I was different just like everyone else. But I also knew that there was nothing I could’ve done to change my unique identity in ways that would appease these folks.

My uncut Africaness would not allow me to conform. It was no fault of mine. My resources were limited at the time, so I would occasionally wear my brothers’ shirts and jackets to school. Swapping clothes with my siblings became the norm for me. But I knew how not to cross the line; I never wore their underwears. However, I was very thankful for those big blessings that came in small boxes.

While going through these experiences, I could hear my mother’s voice telling me:

‘Nkem my daughter, when you are in an unfamiliar environment, stand on one leg until you’ve learned somethings about the people. And then you can firmly stand on both feet.’

So, I observed everyone around me. I was subtle in my actions, but sharp in my thoughts.

In the spring of 1995, while waiting for the Physics professor in the laboratory with some of the students, an African-American male student walked up to me. He wanted to chat. I obliged him.

"I like the way you talk. You sound different, in a sexy kinda way. It is very appealing." He confessed with aplomb.

He was interested in knowing more about my culture, especially as it pertained to the African woman. He had heard that African women take care of their men. While we were chatting, an African-American female student, Nicole, rudely interrupted our seemingly intense, but interesting conversation. She was doing nothing to conceal her anger. Something had obviously caused her to drift into fits of hysteria. My suspicion was that she had heard me by way of my accent. And