The Talking Pot

While returning to school after the Easter break, a friend suggested that I accompany him to a neighbouring village. Two other close friends joined us.

I had heard about a pot that could speak but had never seen one before. My friend claimed they were common and assured us he could take us to see a talking pot.

Upon arrival, I was ushered into what appeared to be a small living room. There, I saw something shaped like a pot, covered with a red cloth, adorned with markings that resembled two eyes, a mouth, and a nose. An old man welcomed me and beckoned me to sit down. He called his oracle by name three times, then turned to me and asked the oracle to speak directly to me. Suddenly, I heard a voice emanating from the area where the pot was placed. As it spoke, I noticed the part marked as the mouth moving in sync with the words I was hearing. It greeted me three times.

To my astonishment, the pot called me by my middle name and my surname. By this point, I was visibly nervous. It urged me to stay calm and began recounting many details about my life—my family, my brothers, my sisters, and more. What baffled me most was that virtually everything it said was true. Could one of my friends have provided the man with my personal details before our visit?

The pot then warned me about a particular member of my family, claiming that this person had been behind much of what had happened to me. Whether or not what I heard was true, I will never know. But one thing is certain: I saw a talking pot, and I never want to see it again in my life.



Extracts from Grace and Resilience: A Personal Story of My Life’s Journey