Once upon a time, in a defunct once powerful African Kingdom ruled by a King with three and a half King heads, and a small head, lived a man who was once a powerful Chief to one of the Kingdom’s distinct Chiefdoms.
The man was so chiefly powerful that he occasionally, to the great amusement of his army of “chieflings“, decreed that, and thus made his dogs give chiefly speeches to the chiefed of [in] his Chiefdom to roaring applause; not so much out of genuine appreciation but under obligation. This is because the alternative to not fulfilling the expected obligation to applaud the Chief’s dogs giving speeches, was having the tough and physically scary speech giving dogs unleashed upon the chiefed.
And doomed are they, who the Chief chose to unleash his dogs upon, mainly the chiefed hoi polloi, and occasionally the “chieflings” who fell out of [the] chief line who; like the “house slave“, ate off the Chief’s feet, crumbs falling off the Chief’s chiefly table to his chiefly feet.
The erstwhile powerful Chief, now a wise elder living wisely but undeniably a towering frail figure and certainly shadow of his former [powerful] self, was once asked about his reflections on his former Chiefdom. As wisdom dictates, the former powerful and errant Chief, took a deep moment of thoughtful silence.
As if waking out of his deep moment of thoughtful silence, the wise elder roared; look here, calling for undivided attention with a slightly shaking raised index finger – perhaps reminiscent of and reflecting his former commanding style – and went on to give the following analogy:
“There was once a vast field, so green and full of all kinds of species living in relative harmony with each other.
The vast field was then appropriated by an invading fortune seeker. Sensing the change, the different species migrated for safety, abandoning the field uninhabited.
The fortune seeker, upon appropriation of the vast field, left it unattended and unused for a long time.
Next to the appropriated but uninhabited vast field, was a poultry farmer and baker. The farmer-baker used eggs from his poultry farm for baking purposes for his baking business.
The farmer-baker had partly solved his raw-materials supply needs.
So, the farmer-baker had found it convenient to use the uninhabited vast field next as a dumping ground (field) of eggshells of hundreds of eggs used for baking.
Over time, the vast field was all covered with eggshells.
Upon return to the vast field, the fortune seeker cast his eyes across his appropriated vast field, and was surprised by the transformation it had undergone. It was no longer green and all its different kinds of species had abandoned it; migrating for safety in fear of the destructive nature of the fortune seeker in his fortune seeking ambitions and attitude of “no creature is safe from my fortune seeking actions”
Surprised by the appearance, what he saw and wondering what it was, he decided to walk across the field, to find out.”
The erstwhile powerful Chief, now a wise elder, cutting the story short and conscious to the custom that wisdom is attractive when kept short, he said the following:
In a field of [covered with] eggshells, no eggshell is safe from the field owner’s feet and/or the euphoric stampede of the field owner upon the realisation that the field is, after all, full of eggshells and not sharp cobblestones that would otherwise pose danger to his feet.
Every eggshell, said the erstwhile powerful Chief, has its turn and day to be cracked; and it will be cracked, under the weight and feet of the eggshell field owner. It’s simply a matter of time.
Treading carefully, therefore, especially to [for] eggshells, is bullocks.
Their only salvation, if they – eggshells – must be salvaged or are indeed, worth salvaging – lies in the near to impossible chance of the eggshell field owner waking up as an eggshell.