Whenever a kola nut offered as hospitality is lifted for breaking, the heart of the Igbo in the traditional mould opens. We know what he thinks of right and wrong, benevolence and malevolence, social acts and anti-social traits.
The man we meet in the following poem is not a common stock; indeed, he belongs to a fast disappearing breed. He is the old man who, at the crack of dawn, performs his ablution, sits before his family shrine or in the open courtyard of his home and offers a kola nut, his prayers and his whole being to the Superior Powers. Through his words we peep not only into his own heart but into the communal soul. He reviews the moral codes of a good man in his society and submits himself to Superior judgement. He is sincere with himself- he has to be. Indeed his spiritual offering is an inspired soliloquy, we are just eavesdroppers. He speaks as his spirit moves him. There is only a loose formula to his prayer. He doesn’t even want to be recorded- he would rather be left alone.

BREAKING OF THE KOLA-NUT
(Please note that the kola-nut blessing is always said in Igbo Language or as Stan Anih argues, in the language of those who partake in it. this version is a translation from of the original Igbo.)

God the Creator
Who lives on high
And His eyes see the whole ground
Who lives under the ground
And no dirt soil Him;
Who lives in waters
And is dry;
Who moves with the winds-
The wind is never seen by eyes,
And air is everywhere,
I come with greetings
And with pleading!

God the tryst setter
Who makes trysts with men,
Makes appointments with them
Where and when he pleases,
And they cannot escape!

God who creates and who destroys,
Who beats up human beings and consoles them;
Crushes them and remains their strength
Who brings and who takes away;
And who creates
Before the created knows,
At dawn we open our doors and mouths
At night we close our doors
But not our minds!

It is KOLA I bring!
It’s all I can offer!
A little baby
Can only hold its mother
Where its hand can reach!
KOLA is small
And yet Kola is big.

Like the sacrificial food,
It is more important that it goes round
Than that it fills the stomach
Our father’s fathers
And their fathers before them,
All our ancestors-
Saw all the fruits o the land
But they chose Kola
As the prime substance for hospitality
And for offerings!
What an old man lying down has seen,
Has the young ever seen better
Though he perches on the highest tree?

Of all food on earth,
Only Kola is not cooked by water and fire
But by spoken word!
The rich can afford it; and the poor can afford it;
And Kola is the biggest offering
Men to you GREAT GOD,
To whom the swallower of what swallows an elephant
And with an hippopotamus tucked into its mouth
And Palmyra as chewing stick,
Whistles freely,
Is smaller than spittle!

It is not that Kola
Is the sweetest food on earth,
Ot that it fills the stomach fastest;

But it’s only with Kola
That we pray for life.
And whomever brings Kola
Brings life,
And brings health,
And brings prosperity
And brings peace,
And children,
And what we shall feed them with!
For it’s YOU, God
Who brings Kola
And ordains its manner of breaking.

This KOLA
Is like a mound in the middle of the arena,
On which we stand and speak in the assembly
Of people, and our spirits
And our ancestors,
And You Great God
The TRYST SETTER,
And the words reach the ear they’re made for!
So our fathers’ father’s fathers
Hear my voice!

I am a little innocent child who washes his stomach only!
But your eyes see me
And you can judge;
If I’ve ever touched the wife of relation
Or the nakedness of a sister;
If I’ve ever stolen what belongs to any human being
Or oppressed a widow or cheated an orphan;
Or borne false witness, or spoken calumny;
If I’ve killed any human being
With knife or spear,
Or arrow or rope,
Or poison or witchcraft,
If I’ve done any of these things,
May our land
And Mother Earth EAT ME!

But if none these is my guilt
But my fellow-man would afflict me
Because of anger of the heart or anger of the eye,
Then let whoever comes to kill me
KILL HIMSELF!

Anybody who says he must see me and my household
With evil eyes
Let his eyes perish in the seeing!
Any person who says an innocent household
May not sleep
Make him roost with the chicken.

I pray for the good of the people in the bush,
And for good of those at home;
For the good of those in the hills
And the good of those in the valley;
For the good of those at work
But if a man I can stand by does not stand by me
Let what kills traitors kill him
I a spirit I can vouch for does not vouch for me
Let what kills spirits kill it.

If anybody would bring poison into my house
Let his polluted hand enter his mouth!
Let no guest bring evil to his host
And that on his departure
May no hunch grow on his back
Let a rat not dare to eat the bag of a medicine-man
And let the medicine-man not dare curse the rat.

It is said that an innocent man,
Guiltless of any sin big or small
Crossed the waters on a piece of calabash;
That it’s with a snail’s good tongue
That the snail moves over thorns.
So I’ll keep clean my hands;
You will defend me from cows;
A man cannot wrestle with a cow.

If I must suffer for my offences
It is just;
If for the guilt of my children
I’ll bear it.

The mouth speaks what earns the jaw a slap
A man’s head shakes the ant’s nest,
His trunk suffers for it.

May it be good for the young,
Succession is everybody’s prayer
Let who must be head be,
But let the tail have no end.
May it be good for the old
The vulture prays
That death not kill the aged,
So that they would continue to tell the young
That the vulture is forbidden flesh.

What is good is what we want
I have not asked you to give that to me only;
Eating up everything alone is bad eating!
If the kite perches,
Let the eagle perch
Whichever denies the other the right to perch,
May its wing break.

GOD
May we never be in need and find no helper,
A man who has friends is greater than a wealthy man
Give our wives fruitfulness,
One blow, one fall.
Give us children
And give us the means to feed them.
Let any of us or our children
Who goes to work
Come back
With plenty money,
And come back safe
Let any weed that brushes us
On our departure
Brush against us on our way home-
It is not an evil weed.
When we are at the back
Let evil be in front;
And when we are in front
Let evil be behind.
Let no illness come
And let no doctor cure.
Let no one be ill
And let no one heal,
But I have not spoken and it is final.
You have the yam;
And You have the knife.
To whomsoever you give
And in whatever measure
He will eat!

I break KOLA NUT.