WHY THE JELLYFISH DANCES

THE CHRONICLES OF JOHN IJAW (PART 1)

It was another summer holiday, school was out and my siblings, cousins and I were spending it, as always, at the most magical place on earth, my hometown of Abonnema. Located in the Niger Delta region on the River Sombreiro, it is a beautiful island about an hour away from Port Harcourt mainland by water. It was nearly 6pm in the evening; the day had been blisteringly hot, so hot that every normal person had disappeared indoors to escape the hellish burn of an unrelenting sun. It was unusual weather for the height of the rainy season, but sometimes, even in the middle of the rainy season, the weather would often forget itself, as my Granduncle’s boatswain, John, would say.                                                 

John was Ijaw from somewhere in present day Bayelsa State, somewhere that my 7year old tongue always had problems pronouncing. He had lived all his life in Abonnema, or so I thought, but I later found out that he had come to Abonnema as a result of the Nigerian Civil War and had somehow never left after the war. I can’t even really remember the full story of how he came to attach himself to my Granduncle, Alabo Awoye Benibo Briggs, Paramount Chief of Oruwari/Briggs War Canoe House. All I remember was that he was in charge of all my Granduncle’s boats and boat equipment and was always simply referred to as John by everyone, both adults and children alike. Maybe because he had spent so much time with my Granduncle, or maybe because he was from the Niger Delta, or even, maybe because he had such a chequered history, he was such a great story teller. He was an unusually tall and unusually slender man. I also remember that he was unusually dark skinned, so dark that at night, you could only see him if he smiled, his teeth were unusually white.

Anything one wanted to know about boats and water, John knew. He knew when a storm was coming, where the fish would be, how the water would behave, he knew the names of all the fish and all sea creatures, how they grew and how to catch them. He knew all the stories of the Delta; he was a walking encyclopaedia on all things marine. Sometimes, if he was in a good mood, he would take us fishing with him. If he was in a particularly good mood, he would tell us a story. We were always spellbound; he had such a way with words. He was usually belligerent with adults; he tolerated them and they tolerated him, but with us children, he was different, sometimes he would even smile and on occasion, laugh. I spent a lot of time wondering about him and his life, especially when I was in Abonnema. He was always willing to teach us something, but one had to make a real effort to learn quickly, because he hated to repeat himself.

On that blisteringly hot day, we were scheduled to go fishing, so right after our hurriedly gobbled breakfast, we ran out to Briggs waterside to find John. He was nowhere to be found. We scoured the waterside; the boats, the jetties, the shanties where fishermen drank, the spaces where nets were fixed and dried, the haunted ruins of the civil war bunkers, the decrepit warehouses of the abandoned port; John was nowhere to be found. Fishing with John was always a high point; it was so disappointing to miss. He turned up towards evening, while we about to go for a walk. I ran after his fast retreating back, wanting to find out how he could have promised and failed us. I remember he smiled at me as I whined and whined. “Stupid Ijaw girl!” He said smiling. “Which normal fish comes out in the hot afternoon? You think they too won’t rest after all the fighting in the night!” I was stunned, I had no idea that fish fought at night. “If you want to fish, you come at night and you cannot because you are still a child and a woman. Which fish will allow you to catch it?” he snorted. “I will teach you to catch what women and children are allowed to catch, but real fishing is only done by men, real men, okay!” I think he saw my deeply disappointed face and chuckled. “Okay, no vex, let me tell you a story. Do you know why the jelly fish dances? I will tell you today, let’s go to the waterside. We will go fishing another evening.”

We walked down to Briggs waterside; it was 6pm in the evening and the tide was already coming in. With it, came the smell of the ocean, the roar of the distant waves, the wonderful balmy breeze, so pleasant to the skin after a hellishly hot day. We walked along the edge of the water and he pointed to an imaginary line in the water. There were a group of jelly fish. “Do you see them?” John asked. I squinted, scouring the water and could suddenly make out their shapes, moving slowly in unison as if to some music that we could not hear. “See how they dance? See how they show off! They think they are so beautiful, that is why they behave like that. Let me tell you why they dance.”

“When they were first created, they had a proper body, just like other fish, but they were not satisfied. They were always complaining to God about one thing or the other. They complained that they didn’t like their skin, they wanted the smooth skin of the catfish, but God refused to change it. They complained that they wanted many legs like the octopus, but God did not listen. Then they came one day and complained that they wanted many teeth like the shark, but God refused to listen to them. So they got tired of going to complain to God. One day, their leader called a meeting so that they could discuss about what they could do to change themselves. They discussed amongst themselves about all the things they wanted to change in their bodies and made a list. Now they had to find someone who would help them. They went to the deepest part of the ocean where it is so dark that nobody can see there. The Chief of that place said he would make all the changes, but they would have pay with their eyes. They discussed amongst themselves and agreed to pay with their eyes. So they gave him their eyes and that Chief changed them to what they look like now. They went to the fish that live in that place to ask them if they were now beautiful with all the changes that had been made, but you remember, no one has eyes in that place and so they told them that they were perfect. When they returned, nobody recognized them, the changes were so many that nobody knew who they were. When God found out what they had done, he said that they will never be allowed to return to their original form, that no one will recognize who they were. Ah! He was angry, because he made everyone to be unique, but some always complain about this and that. Unfortunately, some fishermen caught them one day. They had gone out to fish during the day because they were hungry, instead of waiting for the night like all other fishermen. They came back and used them to make a soup called ‘odu fulo’ and ate. They gave some of their friends and family members the soup too. Since then, human beings have taken on this behaviour, I don’t like this, I don’t like that; I want to change this, I want to change that. That is where human beings got that bad behaviour from. So they dance like this because they want to show off, but what they don’t understand is that they were perfect before, now they don’t look like anything again.”

That night, I thought about the jellyfish and their unending dance to persuade everyone that they are beautiful. How like the jellyfish we become when we see so many flaws in ourselves, particularly the physical ones. Sometimes we are so unhappy with ourselves that we go to great lengths to change everything and anything about ourselves, so much so that a lot of people just don’t recognize us anymore. If we are just patient with ourselves, we would realize that we are perfect the way we were made. Change is great if it makes us kinder, more caring, more honest and more diligent. Change just for the sake of change, just to look like someone else, or to have what they have is not worth it, it makes us just like jellyfish.