Beware of a snake with a long memory
When a bad person wants to deal with you, the first step is always the same: they appear peaceful, charming even… then slowly, they push you away from the very people who could save you when the storm comes.
I remember a story my father told me long ago. He said:
Once upon a time, a man married a beautiful woman—unaware that she was no ordinary bride, but a python, queen of the snake kingdom. This man, Dike, was a brave hunter and a man of integrity. By his side was a faithful dog, his companion since childhood. In our tradition, dogs are believed to sense spirits—barking loudly at the evil ones.
When the woman entered Dike’s home, the dog barked without rest. She controlled her discomfort, but everyone noticed. Elders whispered, for this marriage was shrouded in mystery—no iju asi, no blessings, no proper inquiry. But Dike, blinded by love, dismissed every warning.
Each time the woman transformed into a python at night to swallow him, the dog barked, waking Dike and saving his life. But Akwaeke, the woman, was unhappy. She pressured Dike to chase away his parents for “privacy” and finally demanded he get rid of his loyal dog. Torn, Dike resisted at first, but when she threatened to leave, he gave in.
He killed his dog. He pushed away his family. He silenced the voices that cared for him. 
That very night, with no one left to protect or ask after him, Akwaeke swallowed him.
This tale is not just folklore—it mirrors today’s society. Too often, people rush into relationships without proper inquiry: no health checks, no questions about family history, no understanding of character. Only when trouble begins do they realize the foundations were weak.
We see families broken because a spouse drives a wedge between loved ones. We see people manipulated, drained, abused—because they silenced those who truly cared. We see marriages where the sanctity of commitment is replaced by “open doors” and indecision, where love is confused with control.
So, my friend, learn from Dike’s story . Before you kill yourself for someone, or beg someone not to leave, be sure you have not cast away everyone who would stand for you when the storm comes. Because once you marry wrongly, the devil has settled you.
As our people say:
“Mma dị isi adịghị nkọ, nke dị nkọ adịghị isi.”
(Sharp knives have no handle, while those with a handle are not sharp.)
“Mana a gaghị eji maka mgbagbu ghara ogu, kama ọkpa akidi anya n’ala.”
(But one does not avoid battle for fear of wounds, rather one treads carefully like a person walking over cowpeas.)
Remain blessed and be good to people.
Pen it down. 