Cinder-Ella

And so it came to pass in the year of our Good King WhatsHisFace the 3rd that there lived in the suburbs a young lassie by the name of Emannuellachukwudili Odimma Ekanem, first and only daughter of the late Emmanuel Chuckwuemeka Ekanem, the one whose back never touches the ground, and whose palm wine keg is always empty, also called Ella for short. This certain young lass Ella lived with her iniquitous step mother and her step sisters. Her step sisters were revolting to the sight and unpleasant to the eye. Ella was equally unpleasant to the eye, but not as flawed and defective looking as her sisters.

images (7)
Oh, I’m sorry…that’s not her
Oh there she is.. :)
Oh there she is.. 🙂

Proverb of the day: When one is confronted with two evils, one must take great care to elect for oneself the slighter of the two evils.

The two sisters and their equally hideous mother were mindful of the truth that Ella was fairer and more charming than their collective destinies combined, and so they determined in their hearts to ensure that her splendor was never exhibited in a common place.

So the relatively beautiful Ella was forced to sleep by the firewood, and the charcoal, in an attempt by her step-sisters to contract her complexion to a more shadowy tone. Being ignorant Igbo women (excuse the tautology), they had kept her in the dark, and so her skin remained unexposed to the harsh rays of the melanin inducing sun, keeping it fresh and yello as the men of the day desired.

And so it came to pass that on the 3rd full moon, the prince of the land, Prince WhatsHisFace the 4th returned from a far away trek he had previously embarked on in the quest for riches in the city as is the custom with all Igbo men.

images (5)
The prince returns

And the king threw a banquet such as had never been seen before in the land and invited people from far and wide to come celebrate the return of his dear beloved son. The invitations went as far as the neighboring villages. The invite read:

“You are cordially invited to the ceremony of the return of our beloved prince WhatsHisFace Biko the 4th who went to look for riches in the city but didn’t find.

Never mind that he’s broke, let’s spend the same money he didn’t get in his search on the fact that he returned.

There is no irony in this.

Ceremony comes at the next full moon.

Bring your palm wine kegs and they shall be filled.”

And it came to pass that when news of the banquet reached the ears of Ella’s step-sisters and their mother, they hastened to prepare for the feast. And bought for themselves garments of silk and lace and damask and fine linen and fussed day and night about how they were to woo the prince while frolicking and swaying in the moonlight.

And Ella sat in the darkness and listened to the tales of her sisters and wished in her heart that she could prepare for the dance.

I just want to be at this groove...why me oh? Chineke biko
I just want to be at this groove…why me oh? Chineke biko

And so it came to pass that by the next full moon, the town was agog with ballyhoo and fanfare and ample sounds of drums and xylophones, and the city prepared for the time of the feast. Visitors came from far and wide to see this prince who had been a failure in the big city yet came to the village to finish what was left of his father’s money. But nobody spoke a word of this to the King.

And Ella’s step-sisters were not left out of the excitement. They had chosen for themselves what they regarded to be the finest of the regalia they had purchased and painted their faces until their semblance was as unto that of Zorro, and even though they still looked like disaster and bad breath, they left their abode with high hopes of winning over the Prince’s heart.

Power...Enter!!!
Power…Enter!!!

And when they had far gone, Ella sat in the cellar and waited for her fairy godmother to come as it had happened in the fairy tale. But this is no fairy tale. For Ella’s fairy godmother did not show up as she had not finished pounding yam for her husband.

And Ella said unto herself, “my sisters still have plenty clothes remaining. Let me go and don for myself one of their apparel and also attempt to win the prince’s heart at the town square. And Ella did as she purposed in her heart and stole her sisters’ clothing and shoes and make-up and left for the town dance.

And by the time Ella lifted up her gaze to look upon the festivity, the dance had already begun in full swing, and so she swiftly joined in and gyrated her hips and twirled and pirouetted and swayed to the sounds and drums from the musicians.

Shake it Ella, Ella, Ey Ey..
Shake it Ella, Ella, Ey Ey..

And the prince fixed his countenance upon her and determined in his heart that he wanted her to himself. And the prince wafted through the crowd to communicate with Ella, and so they danced and danced together and the prince thought in his heart “It is requisite that I set this P.”

Oh yes, you're gonna get this D
Oh yes, you’re gonna get this D

2nd proverb of the day: One must never be seen in the open with one’s less handsome relatives for one must maintain his G status in the land.

And Ella observed her step sisters and their mother in an exodus from the merrymaking and so Ella appreciated that the time for her exit was nigh. And so she pulled away from the prince’s extended phallus and ran off into the night.

As a sharp Igbo boy, the prince chased her.

And it so happened that the ropes on Ella’s slippers were severed as she fled the scene and the Prince picked up the rubber slipper and determined in his heart to find the owner and gathered for himself a search party to find his fair maiden with the memorable etighi steps.

FIND HERRRRR
FIND HERRRRR

3rd proverb for the day: (I promise, this is the last one) If one is to look for the girl one found at the club, the criteria for the search should not be shoe size

And so the prince found exactly 876 maidens (for Igbo women have big feet) and 42 men (and one remarkable child with great feet) with exactly the same size of shoe as the maiden with whom he had danced with.

Such big feet y'all have
Such big feet y’all have

And Ella never came forth to claim responsibility, for her 15 minutes of fame was up.

And the prince grew old and died a lonely man.

And all this happened in the 6th year of the reign of our good King WhatsHisFace the 3rd.

I did not write the story. I simply told it as it should be.

Moral of the story: There is really no moral for this story. This entire post is a lie. Everyone knows there is no such thing as an Igbo woman. They are all men.

@Terdoh

******

So guys, Quick Information. As part of our Upcoming posts, TSC is organising an “All I want for Christmas” kind list. Here’s what you do: Follow us on Twitter @TheSarcasticCtr and then DM us what you want for Christmas and who you want it from (handle or nickname) This wish could range from his/her heart to a P session to tangible, realistic gifts. We shall then put up this list on the blog before Christmas (likely on the 20th)  and hopefully, you can get them to read, see and get your desire.

Let’s just call this our contribution to a Merry Christmas. Expecting those DMs now.

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33 thoughts on “Cinder-Ella

  1. “As a sharp Igbo boy, the prince chased her.” That line got me.
    Terdoh, you’re sexist! Why can’t you just let the igbo ‘men’ be!
    Love the puns.
    Love the post.
    Love the humor.
    May your wife not be secretly igbo.

    Like

  2. HIANNNNNNNNN!!!!

    What is all this?

    What is this igbo slander?

    God will do it and you will marry an Igbo woman that will pound you into submission.

    Like

  3. The person who wrote this owes a big APOLOGY to my ribs!!! LOL!! *looks at the picture of step sisters* face painted like zorro! Zorro? Seriously?… LMAO *looks at the picture of cinderella’s slipper* ROTFL *faints*

    Like

  4. ” There is really no moral for
    this story. This entire post is a lie. Everyone
    knows there is no such thing as an Igbo
    woman. They are all men.”

    Hahahaha! My ribs…my ribs
    *dies*

    Like

  5. LOOOL! Chai! *wipes tear*
    Terdoh, you need Jesus.

    But wait…
    I want to marry and Igbo man…

    Does that mean I’ll get a ….

    Fuck you Terdoh!

    Lovely post… As always.

    Like

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