Whenever Nwere was angry, he would cut a lot. He would set a log in the middle of his compound and hit it continually, till he was spent out. It usually was when the log became firewood. His body would drip of salt water.

This time he didn't gather the wood immediately. He sat down on a stool close to it for an hour and thought. At his thoughts so much pleasures gripped his mind that he found himself wishing for relief. His manhood became as erect as the wood he had pressed to the ground.

There were holes, nipples and hips, a meeting of human and gods all in his mind.