Love at Gbeoba: Ebimobowei and Ebiere ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜
The Garri, the Oath, and the River Called Gbeoba
By Seigha Dora Ayedi (ZionAngel)
Edited by Prince Agbedeyi O. D.
For Global Egberi Media International
In the quiet riverside town of Gbeoba, where the water carries more secrets than fish, a young man named Ebimobowei was already making waves—though not the type made with a paddle.
The son of a humble fisherman, Ebimobowei had a sharp brain, a university admission letter, and a camera that made him the village’s most trusted event photographer. From burial ceremonies to wrestling matches where nobody won but everyone limped home, he was there—clicking away with the confidence of a CNN reporter in a canoe.
Then came Ebiere, daughter of the noble Chief Paikumo. Ebiere had the beauty of a moonlit night and the stubbornness of a cat raised in the palace. She had options, but her heart chose the young man with the camera and grammar. According to her:
“Any boy that knows the square root of 225 without using fingers deserves my attention.”
Soon, love blossomed beside the riverbank. They met often to discuss life, dreams, and who owed who garri. But one day, in a moment of divine miscalculation, their legs touched. Just a light graze o! But the result? Pregnancy. Yes—Bluetooth pregnancy, as old Mama Epogha would later call it.
Nine months later, they welcomed a baby girl named Tarelayefa (Tare)—meaning “Love is the ultimate.” Tare had her father’s eyes and her mother’s temper. She was the beautiful result of forbidden riverbank mathematics.
Though Ebiere was a chief’s daughter, she supported her love with dry garri every semester. Whenever Ebimobowei was heading back to school, she would secretly hand him a sack, whispering,
“It’s not much, but it will soak with you through hard times.”
One day, while sitting by the same Gbeoba River, Ebimobowei—fueled by final-year emotions and sentimental cassava—proposed something foolish but romantic:
“Let’s swear an oath by this river… I will marry you. You will marry me. Or may this river follow us like MTN network.”
Without blinking, they both dipped their pinkies in the water and swore to love each other forever.
But rivers have long memories and zero forgiveness.
While Ebimobowei was busy with his final exams, tragedy struck. Tare fell ill and passed away. The village mourned, but no one told Ebimobowei. They feared it would affect his exams. Worse, every letter he sent to Ebiere—even one with a birthday poem for Tare—was intercepted. Probably by Ebiere’s mother, who believed cameras were tools of seduction.
When Ebimobowei returned, hopeful and ready to reunite with his family, they dropped the news like hot plantain:
“Tare is gone. Ebiere has relocated to Sapele.”
He was shattered. He cried. He didn’t just cry—he cried into the Gbeoba River like a true Niger Delta man. The same river that bore witness to their oath now bore the taste of his tears.
His parents, suspicious of the whole affair, warned him:
“No more Ebiere talk in this house. River oath or not.”
And so life moved on.
Years later, during a Christmas festival in Gbeoba, fate staged a surprise reunion. Ebimobowei saw Ebiere. She looked older but graceful. He looked wiser and slightly rounder (the result of steady pounded yam). No words were needed. They walked together, hand in memory, back to the same river.
There, they broke the oath. With humble words and a deep sigh, they said:
“We release each other from the promise made in youth. May this river let us go.”
The river bubbled slightly—perhaps in amusement.
Ebiere went on to marry a man who sold engine parts in Warri. Ebimobowei married a woman who ran a garri processing factory in Ughelli (a poetic circle of garri destiny).
And they both lived happily ever after, separated by time, joined forever by memory—and occasionally by Facebook comments under old pictures.
Moral Lesson on Oath-Taking
Love is a beautiful thing. But never mix eternal promises with rivers that don’t forget. Youthful passion may burn hot, but river oaths burn forever. If you must swear love, do it with sincerity, not sacred water.
Don’t tie your future to a river because of one bag of garri or a sweet “I love you.” True love is built on trust, not tides.
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