Poor Fisherman Found a Baby by the River — Not Knowing She Was the Daughter of the King.

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Poor Fisherman Found a Baby by the River — Not Knowing She Was the Daughter of the King

The afternoon sun poured its golden warmth over River Udzi, the pride of Obelu Kingdom. By the riverbank knelt a woman, her wrapper soaked, her arms trembling as she held a small basket close to her chest. Her name was Enmili, a lively village girl once loved by Prince Obina.

Two years earlier, their love had grown like fire in dry grass. Obina promised, “Let my father find out after I’ve made you my queen.” But when she told him she was with child, fear turned his eyes cold. “You know I can’t marry you,” he said. “It is taboo for a prince to take a commoner.”

He abandoned her, saying, “Forget me. Don’t ever come to the palace again.”

Now, standing by the river, Enmili wept. “My Chiamaka, forgive me. I have nothing. No home, no food.” With trembling hands, she lowered the basket onto the water. The river caught it gently, carrying it downstream. Enmili pressed her hands to her chest, then turned away, disappearing into the forest, a mother left with nothing but regret.

The Fisherman’s Miracle

Downstream, an old canoe glided through the sunlight. Inside sat Palmadu, a humble fisherman in his fifties. He hummed softly until a faint cry stopped him. Among the reeds, he saw the small basket.

“Who would abandon such an angel?” he whispered. He lifted the tiny baby into his arms. Her crying stopped at once. “The gods didn’t bring me here by mistake,” he murmured. “Shh. No more tears, my little one.”

As he paddled home, a heron flew low over the water, its wings beating like a blessing. Palmadu never looked back. The basket sank slowly beneath the surface, as though the river itself accepted its offering.

For Palmadu, Chiamaka became his miracle. She brought him favor; his nets never returned empty. When storms gathered, they always broke apart above his boat. “Some children bring peace,” people said.

The Palace and the Silent Curse

Meanwhile, in the Royal Palace, King Nadzi, Obina’s father, died. Obina was soon crowned King Oina of Obelu. By custom, he immediately married Princess Adana of a neighboring royal clan. Though their wedding was grand, Oina’s smile never quite reached his eyes. Deep inside, a small ache remained, a ghost he could not name.

Two years passed, and no child’s cry echoed through the royal chambers. King Oina grew restless. The elders worried, urging him to take another wife, Princess Ephuna. Still, months turned to seasons; two queens, no child.

The truth was that on the day Enmili abandoned her child, the River Goddess had risen and spoken a quiet curse: “The womb that gives and forsakes shall suffer without peace. The seed that denies its blood shall thirst for an heir and find none. Until the child is found and forgiveness sought, sorrow shall dwell in both their houses.”

Far beyond Obelu, in a small, distant village, Enmili, worn by sorrow, faded away and died quietly beside a stream.

The River Reclaims Its Due

Twenty-three years passed. Chiamaka had become a woman: tall, graceful, and radiant as the morning sun. That afternoon, the air smelled of wet reeds as she and Palmadu paddled into the river.

Suddenly, the sky changed. Dark clouds rolled fast, turning the day to dusk. A lightning strike hit, and waves rose, slamming against the canoe. The current dragged them toward the deep.

“Hold tight, my daughter!” Palmadu shouted.

Then something changed in Chiamaka. She stood, stretching her hands toward the sky. “Stop!” she cried. The water went still. The waves flattened. The wind stopped. Even the rain paused.

Palmadu stared, trembling. “Chiamaka, my daughter, what did you just do?”

“I don’t know, Daddy,” she said. “I just told her to stop.”

The Seer’s Verdict

Back at the palace, strange signs continued: sacred fish died, the royal well ran dry. Unable to bear the pressure, King Oina summoned Dibia Usuzu, the most powerful seer in the eastern lands.

The seer placed a calabash of water on the floor. As the spirit took him, his voice resonated through the hall: “Years ago, you betrayed a woman who loved you and forced her to abandon the child she bore you. For that sin, the gods cursed both mother and father.”

The hall trembled. King Oina rose from his throne, pale and lost. “How can I end this curse?”

“The gods do not give direction to a man seeking mercy,” the seer replied. “You must find her, and you must make amends. Only then will your house breathe again.”

The king immediately sent riders to search for Enmili. After weeks of searching, the captain returned: Enmili was nowhere to be found. She was gone.

The Adopted Son and the Final Reveal

While sorrow gripped the palace, Prince Kenukwu, the King’s adopted son, sought to escape the gloom. He wandered alone to River Udzi. There, a sudden pull dragged him into the current.

Chiamaka, washing her nets nearby, heard his cry. Without hesitation, she ran and dove into the water. Within moments, she reached the drowning man, pulling him to shore.

The Prince blinked, dazed. “You saved me,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”

“Chiamaka,” she said simply.

Kenukwu began visiting her regularly. He found peace by the river that the palace could not give. Eventually, he told his father everything. The King, softening, agreed to meet the woman who saved his son.

Chiamaka entered the palace quietly beside Palmadu. The King rose to greet them. As they talked, the King noticed something: a small, curved mark on Chiamaka’s wrist. He had seen that mark before, long ago, on Enmili.

His smile faded. “Where are your parents?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Chiamaka hesitated. “I have only my father here. He found me when I was a baby by the edge of the water.”

Palmadu stepped forward. “Yes, your majesty. Many years ago, I saw a basket floating near the bank at dawn. I took her home.”

The King’s face went pale. Memories he had buried—Enmili’s tears, the betrayal, the curse—came rushing back. He turned sharply to his chief guard. “If the gods are not mocking me, this girl carries my blood.”

Thunder rumbled. The King sat motionless, eyes fixed on Chiamaka. Her presence had just awakened the palace. Destiny had arrived, uniting what was once torn apart.

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