The Python and the Eggs from the Henhouse

The Python and the Eggs from the Henhouse

Once upon a time, in a village where the baobab trees stood tall and the air was scented with the fragrance of wildflowers, there lived a farmer named Chike. His farm was a patchwork of vibrant crops, and at the heart of it was a henhouse that was the pride of the village. The hens were as much a part of Chike’s family as his own children, and their eggs were like glistening jewels in the morning sun.

But the farm’s prosperity had caught the eye of a cunning python, known to the villagers as Ekwensu’s Whisper. It was drawn to the henhouse, not by hunger, but by a desire to hoard the beautiful eggs, believing them to be tokens of power and wealth.


Night after night, Ekwensu’s Whisper would glide into the henhouse, its body moving with the grace of a river. It would take a few eggs, marveling at their smoothness and shine, and then disappear before dawn’s first light.

Chike was troubled by the losses. He respected the python as a creature of the earth, but he could not allow the theft to continue. He sought the counsel of his wife and they both came up with a plan. 

One fateful night, as the python slithered into the henhouse, its greed led it to a dire mistake. In its haste to claim the eggs, it did not notice the trap Chike had set—a net woven from the thorns of the acacia, hidden beneath the straw.

Ekwensu's Whisper found itself ensnared, the sharp thorns piercing its scales. The pain was immediate and searing, a punishment for its theft. The python writhed and twisted, but the more it struggled, the tighter the net constricted.


As dawn approached, Chike found the python trapped and suffering. He saw the fear in its eyes and, despite his anger, he could not ignore the plea for mercy. With careful hands, Chike freed the python from the thorny net, speaking softly to the creature.

"You have felt the pain of loss now," Chike said. "Just as we feel when you take from us what is not yours to take."

Ekwensu's Whisper listened, the shooting pain, a stark teacher. It slithered away, weakened and humbled, seeking the wisdom of the village healer, Ifeoma. 

Ifeoma tended to the python's wounds, her voice a soothing balm as she spoke of balance and respect. "To take without permission is to invite suffering," she explained. "To live in harmony, one must understand the value of giving and the emptiness of greed."

The python pondered her words, and as its wounds healed, so did its spirit. It returned to Chike's farm, not with the intent to steal, but to offer its strength. It became a guardian, using its keen senses to protect the henhouse from intruders.

Chike in turn, honored the python's change of heart. He crafted a statue of Ekwensu's Whisper, placing it at the entrance of the henhouse as a symbol of the bond between them.

The End