The parable of the tortoise’s shell is perhaps the most popular tale in the Iro. Besides that of Mama-Nwata , which, to the best of my knowledge, is a singularity, in that it appears to bear no relation on the rest of the Iro; and that of Agwo, the most powerful of the chameleons, which is without a doubt the most intricate tale in the Iro; it is unrivaled in the frequency with which it is retold.

In accordance with this status, the parable boasts numerous variations. Of these, some, like that told me by Mrs. Jaja (of Opobo), are sanguine; others, like that told me by Beatrice Chukwunyere (of blessed memory) are tragic; and yet others, like the version relayed to me at the Federal College by Ozoemena Emerole are just plain obscure.

Over the years, In thinking over the variations, I have arrived the opinion that each of the versions was no doubt shaped by the narrator’s psychology. Mrs. Jaja was light-hearted; Beaty was introspective and melancholy; and Emerole was in the process of going stark raving mad when he narrated his version. Unsurprisingly, the most striking rendition was that told me by Emerole. It is striking because in contrast to all other variations, it is deeply woven into the fabric of the Iro. So much so that it unveils some esoterica; abuts some parables; incorporates others; and last, but certainly not least, it illustrates with clear symbolism one of the major events in the Iro.

Over the years as I have revisited this version, my memories of Emerole have remained fresh. He was a shy, soft-spoken boy from Etiti-- best known, before losing his mind, for his unique penmanship and cumbersome name. His print was small (some say tiny) and comprised of block letters arranged at inclines that made it seem as if they leaned on each other. And his firstname, which literally implored misfortune not to strike yet again, was not just a mouthful, without established abridgement, but it lent itself an altogether unnatural negative inflection, which left it virtually unpronounceable. All this to say that as a result, we were forced to the near extinct practice of calling him by his last name. This wasn’t without problems though because Emerole was such a big name for such a small man.

To be continued…