Chidi Ebere

Storyteller, observer, and author of Now I Am Here

The Official Version

On the 6th of January, 1962, a bouncing baby boy (slightly on the heavy side) came into the world and brought happiness to an exhausted mother and relieved father. Their joy was such, the called the baby Chidiebere, which, in Igbo, means ‘God is merciful’. I was that baby, and must confess, during the time my parents and I spent together on this planet, they often claimed my behaviour (and results thereof) challenged the notion of God’s mercy. Sixty years later, and loaded with the insight that comes with age, I realise our seemingly endless series of fractious episodes were all down to misunderstandings caused by our spirits transmitting and receiving on very different frequencies. My parents have been gone for quite sometime, but were they here, right now, I’d probably say: “Mum, Dad, you know what? All those hours, days, and years spent trying to figure out why this was up, the other stuff down, who was in, and what was out helped me become the storyteller I am today. Thank you for that.”

Stories by any means necessary…

Stories, like people, plants, and animals, come in all kinds of shapes and flavours, and I’m simply too ADHD (or curious, or lacking in discipline) to limit myself to a singular technique. In addition, there’s also a personal terror of being labelled or placed in a specific box. There is no method, there is no manual; there are only things that, for reasons I cannot understand, grab the attention and make me think.

Just like most everyone else (and as indicated above) I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to understand the people around me and the world in general. I watch, listen, read, and form conclusions that make perfect sense until, after further observation and thinking, they don’t. The result is a headful of inquisitive and out of control mice asking: “What if this?”, “Suppose it’s like that?”, “How about these?”, and “Why are those there?” The attempts to answer any of those questions form stories. Most of which exist as temporary flashes between the ears that soon vanish into the mind’s forgetful deserts. Some, however, hang around long enough to be captured: written down, sketched, narrated to an attentive audience, or looked upon. This site contains a few of my ‘stories’ in their various forms. So, feel free to head over to the Bits and Pieces section and have a look around...