The Flower, the Smile, and the Longest Pregnancy in Egbema History

The Flower, the Smile, and the Longest Pregnancy in Egbema History


Written by Prince Agbedeyi O. D. 
Edited by Seigha Dora Ayedi 
For Global Egberi Media International 

Once Upon a Time in Egbema Land…

In the glorious olden days of Egbema, when the moonlight danced with laughter and palm wine flowed like the rivers of Ofunama, the issue of paternity was not something you confirmed with a DNA test. No! In Egbema, before a woman put to birth, she had to call the true name of the child’s father—loud and clear. If she called the wrong name, the child would refuse to come out, like a guest who knows the soup is not ready.

Our ancestors had their ways—foolproof, drama-filled, and unarguably efficient. This is the hilarious story of one unfortunate romantic hero, Taretobou, and his legendary experience with love, false accusations, a prophetic dream, and the most overdue pregnancy in the annals of Egbema history.

Chapter One: The Smile That Started It All

Taretobou was a fine young man—clean teeth, sharp mind, and the only son of his doting mother. He had what we now call “sweet boy energy.” Unfortunately, one of those ideas involved falling in love with the Chief’s daughter from Abere community. Her name? Preye, the daughter of Chief Ebimienwei the Thunderer.

Every evening, Taretobou would pass by her compound, pretending to be on his way to the river. And every evening, Preye would sit by the window, smile at him like a full moon on market day, and return inside blushing like a ripe mango.

One day, Taretobou’s elbow brushed against a flowerpot in front of her father’s compound. Just a flower oh! By the next morning, the entire Abere community was singing like a gospel choir: “Preye is pregnant for Taretobou! He touched her flower!”

Taretobou tried to explain: “But we’ve never even hugged before!” They said: “Is hug you want to use and confuse us? We saw the smile! We saw the flower! Case closed!”

Chapter Two: Exile in Sokoto

Embarrassed and confused, and with his mother threatening to turn him into yam pottage if the rumors were true, Taretobou packed his Ghana-Must-Go bag and disappeared to Sokoto State. He left determined to escape the shame.

In Sokoto, he learned how to wear babariga and drink fura de nunu. But every night, he had one recurring dream: Preye, still heavily pregnant… still smiling… unable to give birth.

In one dream, a voice told him: “Return home. She has not delivered. The baby is still waiting for the real father's name to be called.”

Chapter Three: Return of the Prodigal Lover

After nearly two years—yes, two full calendar years of pregnancy and exile—Taretobou returned to Abere. The first person he saw in the community? The mother of the pregnant sister! She screamed, clapped, and ran to announce that the accused lover had returned.

His own mother fainted like in Nollywood movies. After pouring water on her and reviving her with groundnuts, she whispered, “My son, welcome. The baby is still waiting for the truth.”

Chapter Four: The Name That Opened the Womb

The whole village gathered as Preye entered labor. But the baby refused to come out. Elderly midwife Madam Obagha finally yelled: “Call the true father now, or this baby will grow whiskers inside the womb!”

Crying and tired, Preye-Ebisoma finally shouted: “POSIEGBEWEI!!! POSIEGBEWEI IS THE FATHER!”

And just like that, the baby came out with a smile, like someone who had been waiting for the right password.

Chapter Five: The Lessons of the Flower

Taretobou was vindicated. The community celebrated with a goat, two crates of malt, and a new proverb: “Smile with caution. And keep your flowers inside.”

Chief Ebimienwei apologized. Posiegbwei and Preye-Ebisoma got married, and their son, Taretuaposie, became a living reminder that not every smile is a contract and not every flower-touch leads to pregnancy.

Conclusion

In Egbema, the tradition of calling the true father's name before delivery still stands. But this story teaches us: sometimes, laughter is the best medicine—and truth always wins, even after 24 months!

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