Gregory was a crocodile 🐊 who lived by the south banks of the mighty River Nile. During the day he looked like any other Nile crocodile, but during the night he would move slower than his cousins and have trouble catching the big fish. “I am not made for this,” he said. “I need to catch a break.”
“You’ll never catch a break in this sorry old neighborhood,” said Nafeesah the nightingale. “Lucky for you I am your friend, and I will tell you a little secret, if you promise not to tell anyone.”
“Sure Nancy,” said Gregory. “Just go ahead and tell me.”
“You need to promise.”
“I promise, I promise.”
“Ok my brother from another mother, I trust you. They are offering a special job in import and export for a smooth alligator* or even a croc that has style…”
“Where sis, where?”
You could tell Gregory was getting excited by the way his front teeth shimmered. What do you know, this could be his lucky day after all?
“Five kilometers down the river, then move dry land to the east till you see the gum arabic tree.”
“But who is they?”
Nafeesah the nightingale looked unconfident. “I am not sure. You see, they need to be extra careful in the import and export business, not to attract the wrong kind of reptile. The business needs to go smooth if you know what I mean?”
Gregory acted like he knew, saying to himself, “This import and export business sounds intriguing, maybe I was made for it. But what if I fail? I can’t ask for advice from anyone I know because they will only discourage me.
“Auntie Sophie will say it is too dangerous. Jethro is faster than me and he’ll beat me to the job. The wise old croc of the river doesn’t like me because I ate his perch. 🐟 I better tell nobody. Like the saying goes, silent croc catches the buffalo.” 🦬
Having made up his mind, Gregory avoided all company the rest of the day. The trade winds sang melancholic in the thorn trees.
In the evening Gregory had suppressed his doubts and started swimming.
“Hello there Greg, my own brother, looking swag,” said Jethro the crocodile. “Where are you going this evening?”
“I’ll tell you later chum, don’t bother me now,” Gregory said and hurried down the river with his tail end wagging. Soon sparkling evening mist covered his dorsal scales out of sight.
Sadly, this was the last his friends and family saw of poor Gregory. Once he arrived to the gum trees a net was thrown over him and he was whisked over to an overseas factory, where he was made into an expensive suitcase 💼 that businessmen would use to import and export expensive jewellery.
The moral of this story is found in Proverbs 11:14, “Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety.” (KJV)
God bless you, Dear Reader.
*There are no alligators in Africa. Sounds like the wily old nightingale was being jocular or repeating things she had heard.
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