Folktales from Africa Part 2

6

Bad Uncles

The Chief Kgalabetla was known by all to be a good chief. He was not one to take sides with one person against another, but would find the things on which they could all agree and chose those as the things to do. Nor would he allocate good land to one man every year and bad land to another; rather, he would share these good things amongst all the people who lived over in that place.

This chief was also very old. He had seen more things than anybody else in the village and he could remember the details of everything that had happened. He could also remember cattle, and could tell which beasts came from which place, and who their parents were. This was a very great talent, and people who heard him talking about cattle would stand there with their mouths open in wonderment. They all said that it was remarkable good fortune to have such a wise chief in their midst.

But unfortunately, Chief Kgalabetla was extremely old. He was the oldest man in the village by far, although there were two women who were older than he was. The chief was always very kind and respectful towards these old women, as they knew a great deal too and they had seen many things happen during their lives.

When the chief called a kgotla meeting the people were very surprised. They were surprised because he had not told them the reason for the meeting beforehand, so when people arrived they were not sure what it would all be about. Some people thought that the meeting had been called to discuss when the rains might be expected to arrive, but others said that this was unlikely. So n.o.body really knew why the meeting was to be held.

When everybody was a.s.sembled at the kgotla, there was much excitement in the crowd. People sat on the ground or stood near the walls and talked to one another in raised voices, wondering what the chief would say. When he arrived, the women made their special calling sound to welcome the wise old man and to show how much his people loved him.

The chief began to speak to the people in his ancient, wavering voice.

"I am very old now," he said, "and my ancestors are calling me. I can hear their voices. They are saying that it is time for me to go."

At this, the people of the village let out a gasp; the sound was great, like the sound of a storm pa.s.sing across the sky. Then some of the people began to wail and there were those whose faces were covered with tears. So great was the love of the people for this wise chief that they could not control their sorrow.

"Do not weep for me," said the chief. "I have lived for many years and I have done many things. Now it is time to die, because that is what we all must do. But I wish to die a happy man, knowing that you will be in the hands of a good man. My son, Ditshabe, is a good man. I have taught him much of what I know and he can learn the rest himself. You will be well looked after under his care."

The people knew that this was true. Ditshabe was just like his father, and they had all watched with relief as he grew up, as they knew that they would be safe with a young chief like that. Now that the chief had said this, the people made an effort to be cheerful, and they listened carefully as the chief ordered the preparation of the ceremony and celebrations for Ditshabe's installation.

Ditshabe and his uncles were ordered to go to the cattle post and choose thirty head of cattle to bring back for the celebrations. They were not to stay out at the post, but they were to come back as soon as they could, driving the cattle ahead of them. In the meantime the rest of the young men and women were to practise their songs and get their best clothes ready for the occasion. Everybody had something to do.

It was a long way to the cattle post, and Ditshabe and the uncles were very tired when they arrived. They lost no time, though, in gathering thirty of the best cattle and starting the journey back home.

As they walked, some of the uncles talked amongst themselves and decided that it would be best to kill Ditshabe, so that one of them could be the new chief and could rule the people as he wished. That uncle would look after the other uncles, and they would all be happier than if their nephew were to be the new chief. Halfway through the journey back, the uncles fell upon Ditshabe and struck him with some rocks that they had picked up in the bush. The young man was not expecting this attack. He fell to the ground, his bright blood gus.h.i.+ng out on to the dry earth, like a small, red river. The uncles dug a hole and buried him, in a place where there were thorn trees. There was n.o.body to cry for him; only the sky and the clouds and the trees were the witnesses of this sad event.

As they continued with their journey home, the uncles planned what they would tell the chief and his people when they returned. They would say that Ditshabe had walked off the path to look for something to eat and had not come back. They would say that they had heard a roaring sound, like the sound of a hungry lion, and that he must have been eaten up by this lion, as can sometimes happen.

Shortly after they had planned this story, a brightly coloured bird landed on a tree in front of them. At first they did not see it, but when it began to sing they saw where it was sitting on a branch nearby.

"Tswiidiii phara tswiidiii phara," sang the bird. "Can you kill him just like that? I am going to tell that you have killed Chief Ditshabe."

The uncles laughed at this bird and told it to go away. Then they continued their journey and were soon back at the village, where they broke the sad news of Ditshabe's having been eaten. There was much crying in the village, and people thought it sad that at the end of such a good life the chief should be greeted with such news about his fine son.

One old woman was very sad. She sat under a tree throughout the following day, thinking about this sad event, when she suddenly heard a bird in the branches above her. She looked up and saw a brightly coloured bird, which sang to her the exact same song that it had sung to the uncles. The old woman listened carefully and went off to tell the chief what the bird had said to her.

The chief was very angry. He ordered a regiment of young men to go to the place that the bird had mentioned. There they found the body of Ditshabe. They carried him back to the chief, tears streaming down their cheeks. Everybody could tell that he had been hit with rocks and not eaten by a lion as the lying uncles had claimed.

The chief called the people together. Even after the death of his son, with the body lying there before him, the body of the boy he had loved so much, he spoke with dignity and firmness. The uncles all started to point fingers at one another, this one blaming that one, and that one blaming this one. The chief silenced them, and asked the people what should be done with the uncles.

The people said that the uncles should be killed. And so this happened.

7

Why Elephant And Hyena Live Far From People

An inquisitive boy once asked his grandmother why elephants and hyenas lived so far away from people. He thought that this might be because the elephant was so large, and needed great empty places in which to roam. As for the hyena, the boy thought that he might live far away from people because he was an animal who liked to wander at night and needed quiet paths for his wandering.

The grandmother listened to what the boy said and shook her head. She knew the answer to his questions, which she had been told many years before. Now she told the boy.

There was a great chief once. He had many fields and there were lots of people who lived on his lands. After the rains had come and made the ground wet, the people would prepare their oxen for ploughing. Then they would cut into the soft ground and the children would put in lines of seeds. More rains would come and the seeds would grow into tall plants with heavy ears of corn.

There were people who lived near a river in that chief's lands. They planted their fields carefully and all about their new plants they built fences made out of sticks and pieces of thorn tree. No cow would dare to wander into these fields and eat the plants, as the thorns at the edge would tear into her skin. For this reason the plants grew tall and the people would all think of the delicious corn that would soon be cooking in their pots.

One morning one of the boys who looked after the plants saw that a great hole had been torn through the fence of thorns. He ran into the field and cried out as he saw the damage that had been done to the plants where there had been rows of corn there were now only flattened stalks and scattered leaves.

This boy's father wept when he saw what had happened.

"Now we shall have no food," he said, picking up the broken stalk of the tallest plant. "We shall be hungry this year."

That afternoon they rebuilt the fence, hoping that it would stop the creature from visiting their fields that night. The next morning, though, the creature had been again, making a large hole in the fence of thorns and eating up more plants than before. Everybody in the village wept that day.

In another part of that chief's lands there were other people who also felt sad. They had a great field of pumpkins, also protected by a fence of thorns. By night some creature of great cunning had burrowed underneath the fence and eaten many pumpkins. There were still some pumpkins left, but they knew that if the creature visited them again then all their pumpkins would be gone. For those people, who ate only pumpkins, this was a terrible thing to happen.

When they heard of the misfortune of the people who lived by the river, the pumpkin people walked across to the houses by the river and held a meeting.

"We have lost almost all our corn," said the river people. "A great creature pushed through our fence of thorns as if it were nothing."

The pumpkin people nodded and said: "That creature must be an elephant. Only an elephant could do that."

Then they told the river people what had happened to their field of pumpkins and the river people nodded their heads and said: "That must be a hyena. Only a hyena would have the cunning to dig his way under a fence of thorns."

There were some animals who heard the people talking in this way. They heard the sad voices of the men and saw the place where the tears had fallen on the ground. These animals, who had kind hearts, were saddened and they went off into the bush and told the other animals about what had happened. Even some birds heard the story and began to sing sad songs about it.Of course it was not long before the elephant and the hyena heard what was being said about them. All the other animals now said that they were wicked and that they should not have caused so much sadness to the growers of the crops. The elephant felt ashamed when he realized what the other animals were saying about him and so he went to see the hyena.

"Everybody is calling us evil," he said. "They shake their heads when they mention our names and say that there is enough food for everybody without our stealing the food of other people."

The hyena felt ashamed too and he lowered his head to the ground and howled through his yellow teeth.

"I do not like to think of my name being so bad," he said to the elephant. "Let's go to the chief and ask him to change our names."

The elephant thought that this was a good idea. Once he was no longer called an elephant, then he would be able to hold his head up again among the other animals.

"We shall set off early tomorrow morning," he said to the hyena. "It is a long way to that chief's house and we shall need all day to travel."

The next morning the two friends set off just as the first light of the sun came over the top of the hills. They walked through the bush all morning and stopped only for a short time at midday. Throughout the afternoon they walked, following the path that led to the chief's village, watching the sun go slowly down the sky. At last, just as the sun sank and the first of the stars began to glimmer above them, they saw the fires of the chief's village.The chief's messenger welcomed them at the entrance to the village. He had heard of the bad name of the elephant and the hyena, but because they were visitors to the chief he did not show his feelings about them.

"We have come to have our names changed," explained the hyena, his red eyes glowing in the darkness.

The chief's messenger listened politely and then said: "I'm sorry, but it's too late for the chief to change your names. He can do that tomorrow morning when it is light and he can see what he is doing. I shall get some boys to show you to your sleeping quarters for the night."

A tall boy came and took the elephant to the place where he was to sleep. Because he was so large, this had to be in a field. The boy wished the elephant a good night and then he took the hyena to his place. Not being so large, the hyena was able to sleep in a hut, and was given the skin of a water-buck with which to cover himself.

"At night there are only stars in the sky," said the boy. "You will need this skin to keep you warm."

The hyena thanked him and settled down in a corner of the hut and began to cover himself with the skin. The boy closed the door of the hut and went back to the chief's messenger.

"Our guests have gone to bed," he said.

"Good," said the messenger. "They can speak to the chief when the sun comes up and he can change their names then. That will make them happy."

Just before the first light of the morning, the hyena crept out of his hut and made his way to the elephant's sleeping field. He walked low down, his head dropped, as if he were sneaking away in shame just the way that all hyenas walk. Standing in the field, waiting for his friend, the elephant also had his head lowered, his tusks almost touching the ground.

"I am very ashamed of myself," the elephant said, even before the hyena could wish him good morning. "They put me in this field of corn to sleep and during the night I ate it all."

The hyena looked at the field. It was covered with the stalks of felled plants, as if a great wind had blown upon it during the night.

"I am also ashamed," he said to the elephant. "They gave me a skin last night to cover myself and I ate it all up. Only the end of the tail is left."

The two bad friends were now too ashamed to go before the chief to ask him to change their names. Instead they ran into the bush and found places far from people where they could live. They were still called elephant and hyena and all the other animals still said bad things about these names. That is why the elephant and the hyena live far away.

8

The Wife Who Could Not Work

When k.u.malo saw the beautiful girl at her father's house he knew that he would have to marry her. The girl was shy and did not look at him, but he could tell that she was beyond doubt the most beautiful girl in that part of the country.

"How many cattle would I have to give you to marry your daughter?" he asked the father.

The father looked at k.u.malo and could tell that he was a rich man.

"That girl is very beautiful," he said.

"I can see that," said k.u.malo. "You must be proud of her."

"The man who marries her will have to give me lots of cattle," went on the father.

"How many?" asked k.u.malo. "I am sure that I will have that many."

"Fifty," said the father.

Even for k.u.malo that was a very large number of cattle, but he agreed with the father that he would give them to him in return for the privilege of marrying his daughter. The father seemed pleased and called other people across to witness the bargain.

"I must warn you about something," he said after they had agreed on the day when the cattle would be delivered. "Many beautiful girls cannot work very hard. That girl is so beautiful that she cannot work at all."

k.u.malo was surprised by this, but quickly promised that the girl would never have to do any work in his household.

"That is good," said the father. "She will be happy with you."

There were other women who lived at k.u.malo's place. These were aunts and cousins and other relatives, and they all had large huts where they kept all their property and ate their meals at night. They were happy living with k.u.malo and they were pleased when he told them that he would be getting married. They prepared a great feast for his new wife and when she arrived they all cried with joy when they saw how beautiful she was. On the first day that she spent at k.u.malo's house, people came from all the nearby hills to look at the beautiful girl. Then they went back and told their families about her beauty and about how many cattle k.u.malo had given her father.

k.u.malo explained to everybody at his house that his new wife was too delicate to do any work.

"This beautiful girl will have to sit in the shade all day," he said. "She can watch you work, but she must do nothing herself. I have promised her father that."

So, while the other women performed the many tasks that had to be carried out around a house, the new wife sat in the doorway of one of the huts and watched them go about their tasks. She said nothing while she watched, but the women could feel her eyes on them as they worked.

After a few weeks, k.u.malo's senior cousin complained to one of the other women about the new wife.

"She sits there all day," she said bitterly. "She eats her share of the food and more but she does nothing in return."

The other woman agreed.

"I have seen her too," she said. "There is no reason why she should not do some work as well. She has the strength."

Other women, hearing these remarks, joined in the protests. They did not say anything to k.u.malo himself, knowing that he had promised his father-in-law that the new wife should not work, but every day now they stared at the new wife and tried to make her feel guilty about not working. The new wife, however, just stared back at the other women, a sweet smile on her face.

Eventually the senior cousin decided that she would act. She had had enough of watching the new wife do nothing while the rest of them laboured and she went up to her and told her that the time had come for her to work. k.u.malo had gone to a far place to buy cattle and would not be back until the next day it would be safe for them to make the new wife work.

The new wife did not object. Rising to her feet, she asked the senior cousin what she had to do and quietly took the calabash that was given to her.

"It is easy work just to fill this small calabash with water," said the cousin. "Even a beautiful woman like you can do that."