Adapa’s wife sires child with father/father-in-law Enki in rare duo-parent conception
The banquet that was thrown for Adapa, the visiting young Earthling, by King Anu in the plush Nibiru palace turned out to be an anti-climax. For when Adapa was presented with the Bread of Life and the Water of Life, he dismissed them outright.
Now, to Nibiruians, the Bread of Life and the Water of Life were nothing special. They were part of their daily sustenance. But unlike our day-to-day food regimen on Earth, these were rich with Ormus, the white powder of gold also known as manna or shewbread in the Bible.
On Nibiru, they had what they called the “Semen of the Father”. This was simply Ormus which fell down on the ground as a constituent of rain. The Ormus-rich rain was the result of gold particles that were suspended higher up in the Nibiru atmosphere both to seal the ozone hole and to lend vigour and vitality to overall Anunnaki health.
When this golden rain bathed the plants and vegetation and soaked the ground, they too became Ormus-rich. By the same token, animals that chewed on the Ormus-rich leaves and grass became Ormus-rich too, such that when the Nibiriuans consumed the crops, fruits and animal meat; drank beverages that were made from fruits; or took herbal products as daily supplements, they assimilated a lot of Ormus in their body tissues.
This not only endued them with very sound health but lent them extraordinarily lengthy lifespans and made them grow considerably taller, up to at least 8 feet for men and 7 feet for women. Ormus also gave them great intellectual capacity, extrasensory perception, and metaphysical insight.
To an Earthling, however, the Ormus-rich bread and drink that were of Nibiru origin would be radically transforming on many levels. It would be like becoming a brand new man altogether, particularly for a youngster like Adapa. Thus when Adapa turned down the sacraments that were offered him, King Anu was not only mystified: he was embarrassed. How could the youngster decline such supremely efficacious food items and from a King for that matter?
Suspecting that it was simply one of those puerile antics, the King kindly and tenaciously endeavoured to cajole Adapa. “Come now, Adapa,” he pleaded. “Why did you neither eat nor drink, our hospitality rejected?” It seemed Adapa did not want to appear as if he had affronted the King of his own accord. That would have given rise to a very distorted view of Earthlings as a whole. So he decided to come clean on the cause of his seemingly outlandish conduct. “My master the lord Enki commanded me: bread do not eat, the elixir do not drink!” he candidly disclosed.
King Anu was taken even further aback. Why did Enki advise the young Earthling as such? Was he anti-Earthling, which would be odd considering that he was their very creator? Why couldn’t he allow at least one Earthling to enjoy the longevity of the Anunnaki and therefore assume monarchic status once the gold mission was over?
Turning to his vizier Ilabrat, Dumuzi, and Ningishzidda respectively, he sought to extract a fitting rationale. The trio said they too were nonplussed. Ningishzidda, however, now revealed that he had a parcel for the King that could provide the answer to the conundrum at hand. Keen to know what the little parcel contained, the King promptly rose and announced a time-out, at which point he proceeded into his private chamber to study it.
ADAPA COMMISSIONED INTO AGRARIAN PURSUITS
The parcel Ningishzidda had delivered to King Anu on behalf of Enki was an encrypted data stick. In it, Enki owned up as to who Adapa exactly was. He made known to his step-father that Adapa was not his servant as such but a biological son of his he had sired with an Earthling woman and that he was actually one of two such siblings, the other one being a daughter.
He also bid the King not to avail Ormus to Adapa but to let him remain “mortal” so that he identified more with his fellow Earthlings than the Anunnaki. His offspring’s role would be to grow food and rear proteinaceous animals to succour the Anunnaki contingent on Earth. It was Adapa who as the first civilised Earthling was going to teach fellow mankind the art of both arable and pastoral farming.
Though the message did not exactly astound the King given Enki’s sordid reputation as a serial philanderer, he was disappointed. He did not expect the staggeringly wise man that was Enki to breach a cosmic law which forbade the Anunnaki to indulge in sexual relations with other races. Summoning Ningishzidda to his private chamber, the palpably disillusioned King asked him whether he was aware Adapa was his brother. Ningishzidda said he had long established that was so after secretly subjecting Adapa to a DNA test.
Having learnt of the urgency with which Adapa was wanted on Earth from Enki, King Anu decided he was to return to Earth forthwith, accompanied by Ningishzidda, with a specific commission in heed of Enki’s petition. “To be of civilised mankind, a progenitor your destiny shall be,” Anu said to Adapa. “Let your offspring there on Earth fields till and in meadows shepherd.”
Ningishzidda too was given his own dedicated commission. He was to be the spiritual teacher of Adapa’s offspring, a lifelong mandate he would fulfil with distinction. Dumuzi, meanwhile, would remain on Nibiru for a full shar, a year on Nibiru which was equivalent to 3600 Earth years, to master the art of agronomy.
Meanwhile, Adapa was provided a special garment to wear, which befitted a king. He was also given a special oil, with which he straightaway anointed himself as per Enki’s advance instructions. The unction and garlanding officially designated him as Earth’s first Sanga-Lugal, meaning Priest-King. This is Melchizedek in Hebrew. Not only was he going to start a new kingly line on Earth but he was going to institute a new line of priests.
Later in the day, Ningishzidda and Adapa were escorted to the “place of chariots”, the interplanetary spaceport, and soon were headed back to Earth. They were carrying with them cereal seeds and breeder ewes. As the spaceship coursed through the inky space, Ningishzidda administered to his little half-brother lessons on the dynamics of cosmic bodies, more so those of the Solar System.
HISTORY’S FIRST SOLOMON
Enki was at once surprised and overjoyed that Adapa had returned to Earth way sooner than expected. He commended the little boy for standing his ground before the great King and for refusing to eat and imbibe the Ormus aliment. On his part, Adapa was gleeful that Enki had turned out to be both his master and dad. Father and son thus embraced, with Titi, Adapa’s half sister, joining them in a rather sentimental posture.
Ningishzidda advised his father that the seniormost members of the Anunnaki pantheon be told of what transpired on Nibiru. Enki agreed and soon Enlil and Ninmah were on their way to Eridu. Ninmah made no fuss about Enki’s fathering of Adapa and Titi. Enki’s wife Ninki also made light of the matter as she was already emotionally attached to the two kids having brought them up like her own kids. It was Enlil who was apoplectic with rage.
“You are defiling our race,” he thundered. “And you are setting a very bad precedent which rank and file Anunnaki would now want to emulate. You know how few Anunnaki women are here on Earth. I want this to remain a closely guarded secret. Not even your own grown children should know about it other than Zidda and Dumuzi. Do you hear me?” And he stormed out of the meeting.
One certain thing about rumour is that it spreads very quickly in the manner of a wildfire and so Marduk soon got wind of these new developments. In the event, he approached his father and Ningishzidda, who had now taken over Enki as their pedagogic instructor, to seek clarity. He was told it was all the work of busybodies: Adapa and Titi were no more than Enki’s pupils and adopted children.
Before he was installed as Priest-King at Eridu, Enki’s cult centre, Adapa first had to be groomed for the task, particularly that he was still a youngster. Accordingly, when he attained adulthood, Enki installed him as Chief of Staff in his household. His duties were to “supervise the bakers, assure water supplies, oversee the fishing for Eridu, and tend to the offerings and prescribed rites … Daily he attended the sanctuary of Eridu.”
Meanwhile, Ningishzidda was tutoring him in “all manner of knowledge” with a view to transform him into the very “model of a man”. Soon he had entered the annals of Earth as the first Wisest Man on record – the first Solomon. An adage was even coined which said, “as wise as Adapa” to describe somebody phenomenally intelligent.
Upon attaining 21 years of age, Adapa was officially crowned as Priest-King. According to the WB-62 pre-diluvial king list (where he appears as En-Me-Lu-Anna, meaning “Enki’s Man of Heaven”, an epithet that commemorated his celestial journey to Nibiru), he ruled for 21,600 years. The Berossus list accords him a reign of 36,000 years.
As Priest-King, Adapa’s duties included the interpretation of the will of the Anunnaki; the representation of Earthlings before the Anunnaki; the administration of justice as well as the entire realm; and supervision of the temple clergy, the term temple simply meaning the abode of Enki and not a house of worship as at the time there was no such thing.
Like dad Enki, Adapa was a fanatical seafarer. He loved to traverse the seas in his boat from shore to shore. A daredevil, he took great delight in braving mighty tempests, so that more often than not he was sent adrift. Thankfully, the Anunnaki’s excellent wireless communications which covered every inch of the planet as well as excellent sky craft made it easy to be reached when one beamed a distress call.
ADAPA MARRIES A SHE-DEVIL
Although Enlil looked down on Adapa by virtue of his being a Lulu, he simply had to recognise him for what he was. King Anu had “Anu-nointed” him as the first civilised human King. He was the designated progenitor of a bloodline that would rule Earth forever. This bloodline would over time come to be known as the Sangreal, meaning “Blood Royal” – the now famous Holy Grail lore which in our day was popularised by Dan Brown in his blockbuster fact-based novel titled The Da Vinci Code. It is this same bloodline that spawned Jesus and today’s leading Western monarchs.
Since Adapa was an Enkite, the Enlilites wanted a genetic stake in the emerging bloodline. The two clans therefore held a meeting to decide on this critical matter. What the Enlilites proposed was that Adapa must marry an Enlilite to even the scores. This was a moot point as Enki had already chosen a spouse for Adapa.
This was Titi, Enki’s daughter with the other Earthling woman. Enki wanted the bloodline to be unilaterally Enkite but the Enlilites were adamant that an Enlilite had to be part of the equation. When a neutral Ninmah was asked to break the ice, she suggested that in order to content either party, Adapa should marry two women: Titi and another woman who had Enlilite blood in her even if that would entail relaxing the cosmic clause that forbade cross-racial marriages. Albeit, Titi would be the junior wife whereas this other woman would be the senior spouse.
Following a very heated debate which involved the input of Adapa himself, it was a deal: Adapa was to take a woman with Enlilite blood as his senior wife. And the woman chosen in this regard was Lilitu. Lilitu was related to both Enki and Enlil: she was the daughter of Nergal, Enki’s son, and his wife Ereshkigal, Enlil’s granddaughter.
Initially, Lilitu was not happy. Being a full Anunnaki and therefore a “goddess”, she thought Adapa, a half-human, half-Anunnaki, or “demi-god”, was beneath her notwithstanding his incandescent virtues and qualities. She made it clear that the man she would have loved to marry was Enki himself, who she had always admired since childhood. However, she was finally prevailed upon and reluctantly agreed to be Adapa’s main spouse.
Since Lilitu was geneologically senior to Titi, the book of Genesis’s other Eve, it meant the heir to Adapa would come from her as per the Anunnaki monarchical merit, which ran through the female line as opposed to the male line. Such a scenario proved to be a perpetual nightmare to Titi-Eve, who would have loved her own son with Adapa to be the heir.
Now, whereas Adapa’s marital relationship to Titi-Eve was a joyous one, that with Lilitu was hell. Lilitu was wayward and insubordinate as a wife. Not only did she defy Adapa at will but was reluctant to give him a heir. In the Adapa household, the workers were in dread of her. She was always screaming and swearing at them, calling them all sorts of demeaning names. This mean streak in her largely stemmed from Enlilite genes than the typically beneficent Enkite genes. The “wicked queen” Jezebel pales in comparison with Lilitu.
TWINS WHO HAD TWO FATHERS!
Although Titi-Eve was aware that being a second-fiddle wife her son would never inherit, she wasn’t resigned to such a fate, which was forcefully decreed on her. She was determined to upend it by foul or crook. She was sworn that her son must be heir come what may. But exactly how was that to be attained?
Having pondered the matter over, Titi-Eve and her Earthling mother came up with a most ingenious strategy. This strategy revolved around her own father/father-in-law Enki. Titi-Eve reckoned that if she were to sleep with Enki and produce a son, that son would take precedence over Lilitu’s in the succession stakes if Lilitu happened to bear girls only or if she stood by her volition not to give Adapa a child at all.
Titi-Eve was a stunning beauty and Enki was hopelessly weak where women were concerned. It therefore goes without saying that sexual relations between the two were a natural. It did not take long before Titi-Eve became pregnant. The pregnancy was an interesting one. Titi-Eve gave birth to two boys who were fraternal and not identical twins.
Furthermore, the twins had distinctly different skin tones and other features. The boy who arrived first was much lighter than the second one. Naturally, Adapa, who was no dupe, knew something was amiss. He asked Ningishzidda to conduct a DNA test on the two boys.
Ningishzidda found that whereas the younger one was Adapa’s son, the older one was not. Adapa straight-off confronted his wife and she was quick to own up: the older son was Enki’s. What had happened was that when Titi-Eve ovulated, she produced two eggs. During the three days the eggs were in her tubes, she slept with both Adapa and Enki in succession. The two eggs were therefore fertilised by two sperm cells coming from two different men, something that happens only once in a million times.
Titi-Eve’s plea to her husband was that she did so for purely political reasons: she wanted a son who would inherit after him all other things being equal. Since Adapa had the tender virtues of his father Enki, he did not begrudge his wife but simply made bygones be bygones.
As per the culture of the day, it was Titi-Eve who reserved the right to name the kids. The older twin she named Ka-En, meaning “One begotten of the Lord”. This is the biblical Cain. He was so named because his biological father was Lord Enki. The Bible itself actually attests to that.
GENESIS 4:1 as properly translated in the King James corpus quotes Eve as exclaiming of baby Cain that, “I have gotten a man from the Lord”, that is, she had given birth to a son fathered by Enki. The Midrash, a Jewish traditional commentary on the Bible, also emphasises the point that Cain was the son of Enki and not Adapa/Adam.
The younger son Titi-Eve named as Aba-El, meaning, “He whose father is of the Lord”. This is the biblical Abel. Why was he so named? Well, the person who was “of the Lord” in this regard was Adapa. Remember, Adapa did have Anunnaki blood in him as he was the son of Enki but he was not Anunnaki himself. Although the term “El” (“Ilu” in Sumerian) referred to the Anunnaki pantheon as a whole, in the context of Abel it referred to Enki.
Enki’s other epithet was Sama-El, meaning “Lord of Sumer”, that is, Sumeria, or Eridu in particular. Thus paraphrased, the name Abel meant “a son of the son of Enki”. The name Abel was thus a tribute to Adapa, who was the son of Enki. This indeed was fitting as Adapa was Abel’s father.
Intelligence and Security Service Act, which is a law that establishes the Directorate of Intelligence and Security Service (DIS), provides for establishment of a Parliamentary Committee. Recently, the President announced nine names of Members of Parliament he had appointed to the Committee.
This announcement was preceded by a meeting the President held with the Speaker and the Leader of Opposition. Following the announcement of Committee MPs by the President, the opposition, through its leader, made it clear that it will not participate in the Committee unless certain conditions that would ensure effective oversight are met. The opposition acted on the non-participation threat through resignation of its three MPs from the Committee.
The Act at Section 38 provides for the establishment of the Committee to examine the expenditure, administration and policy of the Directorate. The law provides that the Parliamentary Committee shall have the same powers and privileges set out under the National Assembly (Powers and Privileges) Act.
On composition, the Committee shall consist of nine members who shall not be members of Cabinet and its quorum shall be five members. The MPs in the Committee elect a chairperson from among their number at their first meeting.
The Members of the Committee are appointed by the President after consultation with the Speaker of the National Assembly and Leader of the Opposition in the National Assembly. It is the provision of the law that the Committee, relative to its size, reflect the numerical strengths of the political parties represented in the National Assembly.
The Act provides that that a member of the Committee holds office for the duration of the Parliament in which he or she is appointed. The Committee is mandated to make an annual report on the discharge of their functions to the President and may at any time report to him or her on any matter relating to the discharge of those functions.
The Minister responsible for intelligence and security is obliged to lay before the National Assembly a copy of each annual report made by the Committee together with a statement as to whether any matter has been excluded from that copy in pursuance of the provision of the Act.
If it appears to the Minister, after consultation with the Parliamentary Committee, that the publication of any matter in a report would be prejudicial to the continued discharge of the functions of the Directorate, the Minister may exclude that matter from the copy of the report as laid before the National Assembly.
So, what are the specific demands of the Opposition and why are they not participating in the Committee? What should happen as a way forward? The Opposition demanded that there be a forensic audit of the Directorate. The DIS has never been audited since it was set up in 2008, more than a decade ago.
The institution has been a law unto itself for a longtime, feared by all oversight bodies. The Auditor General, who had no security of tenure, could not audit the DIS. The Directorate’s personnel, especially at a high level, have been implicated in corruption. Some of its operatives are in courts of law defending corruption charges preferred against them. Some of the corruption cases which appeared in the media have not made it to the courts.
The DIS has been accused of non-accountability and unethical practices as well as of being a burden on the fiscus. So, the Opposition demanded, from the President, a forensic audit for the purpose of cleaning up the DIS. They demand a start from a clean slate.
The second demand by the Opposition is that the law be reviewed to ensure greater accountability of the DIS to Parliament. What are some of the issues that the opposition think should be reviewed? The contention is that the executive cannot appoint a Committee of Parliament to scrutinize an executive institution.
Already, it is argued, Parliament is less independent and it is dominated by the executive. It is contended that the Committee should be established by the Standing Orders and be appointed by a Select Committee of Parliament. There is also an argument that the Committee should report to Parliament and not to the President and that the Minister should not have any role in the Committee.
Democratic and Parliamentary oversight of the intelligence is relatively a new phenomenon across the World. Even developed democracies are still grappling with some of these issues. However, there are acceptable standards or what might be called international best practices which have evolved over the past two or so decades.
In the UK for instance, MPs of the Intelligence and Security Committee are appointed by the Houses of Parliament, having been nominated by the Prime Minister in consultation with the Leader of the Opposition. This is a good balancing exercise of involvement of both the executive and the legislature. Consultation is taken for granted in Botswana context in the sense that it has been reduced to just informing the Leader of Opposition without much regard to his or her ideas; they are never taken seriously.
Furthermore, the current Committee in the UK has four Members of the ruling party and five MPs from the opposition. It is a fairly balanced Committee in terms of Parliamentary representation. However, as said above, the President of Botswana appointed six ruling party MPs and three from the opposition.
The imbalance is preposterous and more pronounced with clear intentions of getting the executive way through the ruling party representatives in the Committee. The intention to avoid scrutiny is clear from the numbers of the ruling party MPs in the Committee.
There is also an international standard of removing sensitive parts which may harm national security from the report before it is tabled in the legislature. The previous and current reluctance of the executive arms to open up on Defence and Security matters emanate from this very reason of preserving and protecting national security.
But national security should be balanced with public interest and other democratic principles. The decision to expunge certain information which may be prejudicial to national security should not be an arbitrary and exclusive decision of the executive but a collective decision of a well fairly balanced Committee in consultation with the Speaker and the minister responsible.
There is no doubt that the DIS has been a rogue institution. The reluctance by the President to commit to democratic-parliamentary oversight reforms presupposes a lack of commitment to democratization. The President has no interest in seeing a reformed DIS with effective oversight of the agency.
He is insincere. This is because the President loathes the idea losing an iota of power and sharing it with any other democratic institution. He sees the agency as his power lever to sustain his stay in the high office. He thought he could sanitize himself with an ineffective DIS Committee that would dance to his tune.
The non-participation of the opposition MPs renders the Committee dysfunctional; it cannot function as this would be unlawful. Participation of the opposition is a legal requirement. Even if it can meet, it would lack legitimacy; it cannot be taken seriously. The President should therefore act on the oversight demands and reform the DIS if he is to be taken seriously.
For years I have trained people about paradigm shifts – those light-bulb-switch-on moments – where there is a seismic change from the usual way of thinking about something to a newer, better way.
I like to refer to them as ‘aha’ moments because of the sudden understanding of something which was previously incomprehensible. However, the topic of today’s article is the complete antithesis of ‘aha’. Though I’d love to tell you I’d had a ‘eureka ‘, ‘problem solved’ moment, I am faced with the complete opposite – an ‘oh-no’ moment or Lost Leader Syndrome.
No matter how well prepared or capable a leader is. they often find themselves facing perplexing events, confounding information, or puzzling situations. Confused by developments of which they can’t make sense and by challenges that they don’t know how to solve they become confused, sometimes lost and completely clueless about what to do.
I am told by Jentz and Murphy (JM) in ‘What leaders do when they don’t know what to do’ that this is normal, and that rapid change is making confusion a defining feature of management in the 21st century. Now doesn’t that sound like the story of 2020 summed up in a single sentence?
The basic premise of their writing is that “confusion is not a weakness to be ashamed of but a regular and inevitable condition of leadership. By learning to embrace their confusion, managers are able to set in motion a constructive process for addressing baffling issues.
In fact, confusion turns out to be a fruitful environment in which the best managers thrive by using the instability around them to open up better lines of communication, test their old assumptions and values against changing realities, and develop more creative approaches to problem solving.”
The problem with this ideology however is that it doesn’t help my overwhelming feelings of fear and panic which is exacerbated by a tape playing on a loop in my head saying ‘you’re supposed to know what to do, do something’. My angst is compounded by annoying motivational phrases also unhelpfully playing in my head like.
Nothing happens until something moves
The secret of getting ahead is getting started
Act or be acted upon
All these platitudes are urging me to pull something out of the bag, but I know that this is a trap. This need to forge ahead is nothing but a coping mechanism and disguise. Instead of owning the fact that I haven’t got a foggy about what to do, part of me worries that I’ll lose authority if I acknowledge that I can’t provide direction – I’m supposed to know the answers, I’m the MD! This feeling of not being in control is common for managers in ‘oh no’ situations and as a result they often start reflexively and unilaterally attempting to impose quick fixes to restore equilibrium because, lets be honest, sometimes we find it hard to resist hiding our confusion.
To admit that I am lost in an “Oh, No!” moment opens the door not only to the fear of losing authority but also to a plethora of other troubling emotions and thoughts: *Shame and loss of face: “You’ll look like a fool!” * Panic and loss of control: “You’ve let this get out of hand!” * Incompetence and incapacitation: “You don’t know what you’re doing!”
As if by saying “I’m at a loss here” is tantamount to declaring “I am not fit to lead.” Of course the real problem for me and any other leader is if they don’t admit when they are disoriented, it sends a signal to others in the organisation stating it’s not cool to be lost and that, by its very nature encourages them to hide. What’s the saying about ‘a real man never asks for direction. ..so they end up driving around in circles’.
As managers we need to embrace the confusion, show vulnerability (remember that’s not a bad word) and accept that leadership is not about pretending to have all the answers but about having the courage to search with others to discover a solution.
JM point out that “being confused, however, does not mean being incapacitated. Indeed, one of the most liberating truths of leadership is that confusion is not quicksand from which to escape but rather the potter’s clay of leadership – the very stuff with which managers can work.”
2020 has certainly been a year to remember and all indications are that the confusion which has characterised this year will still follow us into the New Year, thereby making confusion a defining characteristic of the new normal and how managers need to manage. Our competence as leaders will then surely be measured not only by ‘what I know’ but increasingly by ‘how I behave when I accept, I don’t know, lose my sense of direction and become confused.
.I guess the message for all organizational cultures going forward is that sticking with the belief that we need all-knowing, omni-competent executives will cost them dearly and send a message to managers that it is better to hide their confusion than to address it openly and constructively.
Take comfort in these wise words ‘Confusion is a word we have invented for an order not yet understood’!