We are six children (male and female) from different fathers, bonded by blood and love on the lap of our grandfather. Every Saturday and Sunday, we often vacate our respective homes to burn incense of time with our grandfather in his quarters. He sparkles our minds with stories relating to humanity and nature, and certain incidents in the animal kingdom to portray human being and his environment.

On Saturday nights, we commit ourselves to worshipping our creator as our granny repeatedly reminds us always to remember the Sabbath Day, to keep it holy and worship God in the beauty of His holiness.

As kids, one of the things we cherish most about our grandfather is his art of telling us stories in various forms: allegory, fable, parable or tales that gave birth to some communal proverbs. We name him “The WK god.” To a lay man, “The WK god” may sound anonymous or less meaningful, but to us, it is a name heavier and greater than its meaning. The “W” represents wisdom, while the “K” represents knowledge. Our Grandfather is a well, where we unendingly fetch wisdom, he’s a running tap where we continually retain knowledge.

Today, I’m reminded of one of his submissions, which has kept our mouths open in amazement.

Grandpa said, “Every man born of a woman was once a woman,”

All that outcropped in our mouths collectively at hearing this was, “Haaa… how is it possible?” questioning his said words. He smiled. We asked him, “Can you please explain better what this means, Grandpa?”

He proceeded and answered, “My children, every one of you here today, either male or female, were all a woman before you were born, including myself. When you grow older, you will depict understanding in my words better. You were a woman. I was once a woman as well. I can see, as you’re all seated, your ears are already raised to receive those words containing clear exposition to this fact.”

He continued and questioned, “My children, may I ask you this? For how many months does an infant reside in the womb of her mother before treading the earth?”

The oldest of us answered, “Nine months,”

Another affirmed it, “Yes, so we were taught,”

Grandpa continued his speech.

“Yes! For nine months. Either a male or female born, you once lived as a woman for nine months, either up to or not up to. We were all a woman, for in a woman was our site of creation. We were all a woman, for inside a woman, whether agreeable or disagreeable, we did all what a woman does while in her belly. Anything that happens to a woman happened to us also. Anything the body of a woman encounters, either by accident or pleasure, was what we shared in. When a woman was sick, worried, or otherwise, we were also a bouncing ball in the same court as hers.

“When a woman was in pain or felt joy, we took it. A woman, in who we resided in, when she cooked, we dare not evacuate her temple, or fall off her body to fulfil our wills and desires. Otherwise, we did succumb (though not physically) to all what she did. We only had her womb to live and survive in, not to rule. She determines our being, what, how, and when to do. She was our driver. All the activities and exercises a woman undergoes were all what we went through as well. We shared half in everything that is hers. In a nutshell, we were all a woman, for we had all lived as such.”

As it is usual amongst us, when Gran finished the oldest amongst us rose and spoke.


“WK, WK,” we repeated after him, “he is our god!” as thrice he said it.

When it was question time, before all others could, I raised my hand and Papa flicked his finger at me, indicating that I may speak.

“What lesson does this teach us sir, as young children?” I spoke.

I read gladness on the face of Papa as he was as eager to have that question asked.

“The utmost lesson derivable from this is that, as you’re all growing up my children, learn to be an appreciative soul toward every woman. Although a woman may not be equal to a man, but either be it or be it not, do not treat them as an inferior entity, a subject or a cluster of rags. For you were all a woman. We found ourselves on different corners of the earth accordingly, as our edges’ shaped thus. And remember this, praise the one who protected an infant from being aborted, for she wouldn’t let the baby get killed.”

When he had said all these, he compelled us to have an end to the taste of words for the night because the sky was already growing some dark thick filaments. We obeyed him and departed. The moon was in her nudity as we all proceeded into the big room and welcomed sleep.

I mumbled within me, “We have to wait till next Saturday for another tale by the moonlight.”


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