Moni-Mambu eventually got married, but after the wedding he would just stay at home doing nothing. His wife complained that he never went hunting and never brought home meat, but was content with the manioc and the greens which she cooked for him. Eventually she told him he had to go hunting. Moni-Mambu went into the bush and saw an antelope. He shot it, and the antelope fell down. But when he went to fetch his catch, the antelope’s tail and skin came away in his hand and the antelope itself got up and bounded away.
‘Oh, antelope!’ called Moni-Mambu. ‘What will your wife say when you come home naked?’
‘Oh, Moni-Mambu,’ answered the antelope, ‘what will your wife say when you come home with an empty hide and no meat as sauce to the manioc?’ And the antelope ran away and Moni-Mambu ran after it. The antelope jumped over a stream, but Moni-Mambu fell in and was washed downstream. He came out in the village of his in-laws.
They gave him peanuts and a yam to grill, and he went and sat by the fire grilling his food. His nose began to run and drip onto the food. He told his nose to calm down, and wiped it with a leaf. He put the leaf with the snot down next to him, saying, ‘Wait, and I’ll take you back when I’ve eaten.’ And he continued grilling his yam and peanuts.
A dog sidled up and seized the leaf with the snot and ran away with it. Moni-Mambu seized a burning stick from the fire and threw it at the dog. It fell onto the thatched roof of his in-laws’ house and burned it down. His in-laws sent him to gather the materials for a new house and gave him a machete. Moni-Mambu went to work along the stream and cut down a tree or two and some reeds, and then the machete fell in the water. While he was searching for it, a crocodile seized him. But an osprey taunted the crocodile, and when the beast came to the surface and opened its mouth to reply, the osprey seized Moni-Mambu and flew off with him.
One day, Moni-Mambu came to an abandoned village and found a skull. He asked the skull what had killed it, and the skull answered, ‘What killed me? What doesn’t kill people? We die in the water, we die of disease, we die of hunger…’ Moni-Mambu went on his way, with a shudder of fear. He came to a fork in the road and after some hesitation made his choice. He came to another village where the elders were gathered, talking.
‘Oh, elders,’ said Moni-Mambu, ‘back there in the abandoned village I met a talking skull.’
‘That’s a lie!’ said some, and others asked, ‘Will it talk to us as well? Will it answer our questions?’ And Moni-Mambu answered, ‘Yes, of course it will.’
‘And if it doesn’t answer, what should we do?’
‘In that case, you should kill me.’
The elders went to the abandoned village and found the skull. They questioned it, but it said nothing. They came back and told Moni-Mambu that he had lied and he should die. They were preparing to beat him to death when the chief arrived. They waited and told the chief everything that had happened, and the chief listened. Then he said, ‘Nzambi-Mpungu sees all and knows all. Moni-Mambu is very cunning, and he has killed many people and escaped from many traps. Will he escape today?’
Moni-Mambu asked for some water, but the chief said no. Then he told a young man to fetch a spear from his house, and when the young man returned the chief told him to stab Moni-Mambu. So the young man did, and Moni-Mambu died. But they did not bury him.
16
TURE, THE ZANDE TRICKSTER
The Zande live in western Sudan and the Central African Republic, between the waters of the Nile and the waters of the Congo, in a region of savannah and what are called ‘gallery forests’ growing along watercourses. Their recent history has been marked by turmoil: they were the victims of slave-raids by the Arabs of the Sudan in the nineteenth century. While the Zande territory was divided into kingdoms, central authority was very weak, and the typical pattern of settlement was for individual householders to strike out and set up a homestead. While they have knowledge of agriculture, they also exploit the natural resources of the region (fish, game, termites), and their mythology shows strong similarities with the stories of the Khoi-San and other foraging peoples. Ture, their trickster figure, is the subject of a wide cycle of stories, many of which are also told of other tricksters. Ture is a spider, but his behaviour is entirely human and the stories do not really exploit his animal form. These stories were collected in the first half of the twentieth century.
TURE RELEASES THE WATERS
An old woman used to grow fine crops of yams, which she served to the people who came to work for her. But she never gave the people water while they were eating the yams, and so they would choke on the dry starch. If they did not die of thirst, she would kill them with a big knife while they were choking.
Ture heard about this woman and realized she was hiding the water from people so she could kill them. He decided to go to work for her and receive yams to eat, but he made some preparations. He searched all around her home, until he found the water she had dammed up and hidden from people. He filled a gourd with this water, and then he cut a long hollow reed which would reach into the gourd when he hung it on his shoulder, and from which he could drink the water. Then he went to work for the woman.
After he had worked some time, she told him to come and eat. She filled a large pot with water and began to boil her yams. When they were cooked, she served them to Ture. While he was eating, she fetched her large knife and sat watching him, waiting for him to choke. Ture ate the first yam, and when it caught in his throat he ducked his head and sipped water through the reed. He finished the first yam, and the old woman brought him a second, and then a third, until he had eaten all the yams in the pot. The old woman was amazed at him for eating all these yams and yet not choking.
As he was finishing the last yam, he began to pretend to choke, and the old woman came running up with her knife, ready to slaughter him. But then he leaped up and ran away from her, towards the place where she had dammed the water. She called after him not to go that way, that he was running into the area where she left her excrement, but he did not listen. He ran on, and she followed, until he came to her dam. Then he fell against the dam and broke it, and the water spread all over the fields and ran down in streams. In this way Ture spread water over the world.
TURE SETS FIRE TO THE BUSH
Ture went to visit a clan of people to whom he was related and who worked as blacksmiths. They had forges, and they made iron and shaped it into tools. At that time, other men did not know of fire. So Ture went and worked for his relatives; they set him to working the bellows, and he pumped up their fires for them. When the day was ended, Ture told his relatives that the next day he would dance for them. That night, he made himself a costume of old and frayed bark-cloth, using lots and lots of cloth so that it wrapped about him and dangled behind him in all directions.
The next morning, he worked on the bellows for a time until the fire was burning strongly, and then he told his relatives the time had come for him to dance for them. He put on his costume of bark-cloth, and then danced around the forge several times. Finally, he went and danced into the forge, and he leaped over the fire. The strips of cloth dangling behind him trailed over the coals and caught fire. His relatives, the smiths, tried to put out the smouldering bark-cloth, but they could not: it was too dry and frayed. The flames spread around the cloth as Ture danced away from the forge. And then Ture ran out of their village into the bush, and the flames spread from the cloth to the grass, and that stopped the smiths from following Ture.
Ture stopped then and sang a song to the fire, so it would know who he was and what its place should be, and then he went on and brought the fire to other people.
TURE’S WIFE AND THE GREAT BIRD NZANGINZANGINZI
Nzanginzanginzi was a monstrous bird which would swallow people when they passed by. It lived on top of a high hill, so it could look all around, and when it saw people it would fly down and swallow them. It swallowed all sorts of people, everyone who went by.
The bird lived along the path that ran from Ture’s house to
that of his wife’s mother. One day, Ture’s wife Nanzagbe ground up some meal to take to her mother. She piled it into a bowl, and then on top of the bowl she placed a millipede. She then set off on the path to her mother’s house.
Nzanginzanginzi saw her coming. He flew off his hill and came down to her, singing,
‘I see you coming, I see you on the path,
I shall swallow you.’
Ture’s wife said nothing, but the millipede on top of the meal in the bowl sang a song in answer to Nzanginzanginzi:
‘No, no, you must let her go,
No, no, she loves her mother,
No, no, you must let her go.’
The bird tried again when Ture’s wife had passed its hill and was coming to her mother’s village, but again the millipede sang a song to answer it and it turned away. So the bird left her alone and she was able to continue on her way to her mother’s house. She gave her mother the meal, and she placed the millipede at the bottom of a pot. But after they had eaten, her mother poured scalding water into the pot and the millipede was badly hurt – not killed, but burned and weakened. When Nanzagbe saw this she was distressed, and she told her mother she did not think she could escape the bird this time.
She started on her way, with the millipede in the bowl she carried, and Nzanginzanginzi saw her coming and flew down to eat her. Again, he sang a song:
‘I see you coming, I see you on the path,
I shall swallow you.’
But the millipede had enough strength to answer it and to sing:
‘No, no, you must let her go,
No, no, she loves her mother,
No, no, you must let her go.’
So it let her go on. But after she had passed its hill and was coming to her own village, it flew down again and sang its song. But by this time the millipede had died, and could not answer Nzanginzanginzi. So the bird ate Ture’s wife.
When Ture heard that the bird had eaten his wife he was greatly distressed. He went to consult the oracle, and he was so upset that he knocked the oracle from its place. But then it gave him an answer: it told him to forge many little knives and to carry them with him on the path, and to let the bird swallow him when it came down, and in this way he could save his wife.
So Ture went home and forged the knives, and then he went out on the plain before the hill of Nzanginzanginzi. And the bird flew down to him and sang:
‘I see you coming, I see you on the path,
I shall swallow you.’
And Ture said, ‘Please do.’ So the bird swallowed him in one gulp: it put its head down, closed its beak, and then raised its eyes to the sky and Ture went tumbling down its throat.
When he came inside the bird, he found his wife and all those people whom the bird had swallowed still alive, and so then he took all the little knives he had forged and brought with him and distributed them, and told the people to cut at the bird’s guts. When the bird felt this, it began to sing a song in pain, and when Ture heard the bird singing he told the people to cut harder and faster. And so they continued cutting at the bird’s insides until it died and fell down, and then they continued until they had cut through its belly and could come out of the bird. So all those people escaped.
TURE DANCES
Little Dog followed his mother when she went into the bush to collect the termites on the night they swarmed from the termite mound and could be gathered for food. But he did not assist his mother in her work; he lay on the path they had taken. And so Ture, who was also going to gather termites with his bag and his broom and his torches, did not see Little Dog on the path and he stumbled over the dog who lay there. And Little Dog then sang a song about Ture stumbling over him, and he said that Ture was dancing.
Ture did not see it was Little Dog, and he asked himself what he had stumbled over that sang like this. And so he stumbled over it again, to hear it sing. Again, Little Dog sang his song, and Ture listened carefully and enjoyed it very much. And so he threw away his equipment into the bush, and stumbled over Little Dog again and again, and danced with delight as Little Dog sang his song.
But after a while, Little Dog’s mother finished gathering her termites and she came back to the path and took her child with her back to their home. Ture finished his dance and came back to find Little Dog, but could not, and then realized that because he had spent his time dancing he had missed the opportunity when the termites were swarming out of the mound to gather them and store them up for good eating. He could not see where he had thrown his equipment, so he took his torches and while he was looking for his gear, a dry bush caught fire and then while he was running to avoid the fire he fell into a stream.
So he went home wet and tired, clutching sticks, hoping to convince his wife that rain had come on him and prevented him from catching the termites. But when he came to his home and knocked on the doors for them to let him in, they were not deceived. His two wives had gone out and they had collected many termites in bulging bags. They did not believe his story. They told him he had wasted his time dancing when he should have been collecting the termites, and that he was wet only because he had fallen into the stream. Because he had been so foolish, they would not let him have any of their termites.
TURE AND HIS INNARDS
A certain man had a special magic, an oil he used to rub on his belly and then his belly would open. He would pull out his innards and wash them, and then he would tuck them back in and rub his belly with the oil and it would close up.
Ture came upon this man once as he was travelling about, and was amazed to see him take out his inner parts and wash them. He expressed his admiration and astonishment, and begged the man to teach him the secret, promising to pay a rich price. But the man was generous, and he showed Ture the secret for nothing. He took the oil and rubbed it on Ture’s belly, and Ture’s belly opened up so he too could wash his intestines. And as he did so, Ture gloated over the way his innards now would be clean, but those of the women at home were filthy. ‘Ha!’ he exclaimed, ‘I shall really be able to mock them now, with their messy innards.’ And when Ture had washed his intestines, the man rubbed more oil on his belly and it closed up again. Then the man gave him a small supply of the oil in a horn, and Ture went on his way home.
He paused several times along the way to rub his belly with the oil and to take out his inner parts and to examine them. And one time, as he had pulled them out, a wind came and blew over the horn and all the oil was spilled on the ground, and Ture was left with his innards hanging out. He did not know what to do. He tried various medicines and potions, but none of them worked. He tried the dung of various animals, which is known to possess magical qualities, but it did not help to restore his belly. And during all this, of course, Ture’s inner parts were being baked by the sun and the heat and drying out and it was quite painful. Ture began to cry out loud in his pain, calling out and crying what had happened to him.
The man who possessed the magic heard Ture and said to himself, ‘I should have known that Ture would make mistakes. Now I must go and help him.’ So he brought his medicine and some water with which to wash Ture’s ailing innards, and then he rubbed the oil on Ture’s belly so that Ture was able to replace the parts inside himself.
Ture did not wish to wash his innards any more.
TURE AND HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW
One day, Ture’s mother-in-law came to visit her daughter. She came just at the time the termites were swarming, and Ture and his wife were preparing to go to their mounds to collect the termites. Ture and Nanzagbe owned two mounds, one close to the village and another some distance off in the bush. They prepared the torches and the bags they would need, and then they discussed how they would divide the work. It was agreed that Nanzagbe would tend the mound close to the village, while Ture and his mother-in-law would go to the mound further away.
Ture and the mother-in-law made their way to the second termite mound. The termites were not yet swarming. Ture built a fire and they sat beside it, waiting for th
e termites. After a while, Ture spoke to the mother-in-law. ‘We are far from the village, and there are hyenas and other dangerous animals about. You should not sit so far from me.’
So the mother-in-law moved next to him by the fire. The night wore on and it became late; they lay down to sleep on the bags they had brought to carry termites.
‘You should not turn away from me,’ Ture said to his mother-in-law. ‘If you face away from me, an animal might come and bite your face.’ So the mother-in-law turned towards Ture. After some time, the fire died down. They had no more wood. Ture spoke to his mother-in-law, ‘Now I am cold. Let me share a corner of your wrapper; it can cover the two of us quite well.’
With the cloth over them, their bodies were in contact. After a time, Ture began to caress the mother-in-law, and when she made no response he began to have intercourse with her. She responded then; she enjoyed it. They kept up their lovemaking all the rest of the night.
While they were busy, the termites swarmed out of the mound and flew away. Ture and the mother-in-law had no termites to bring home. But his wife Nanzagbe had caught many sacks of termites; she fried some up when her mother returned and offered the dish to the two.
As he was eating, Ture’s penis called to him, ‘How dare you eat termites, when you let all the termites at the other mound escape because you were sleeping with your mother-in-law?’
‘You are lying!’ cried Ture to his penis, but his mother-in-law’s vagina spoke, saying, ‘You know it is not a lie. You let the termites escape while you were amusing yourself with me.’
Nanzagbe was furious and seized her pestle; she chased Ture and her mother out of the compound.
17
ESHU OF THE YORUBA
Eshu is only one of the Yoruba tricksters; there is also the tortoise Ajapa. But Eshu, or Eshu-Elegbara, as his fuller name goes, occupies a special place because of his association with Orunmila, the god or orisha of Ifa divination (see also Chapter 49). Eshu himself is also an orisha. Like the Fon Legba (see Chapters 18 and 51), to whom he is closely related, Eshu works to introduce the unpredictable into an orderly system; this can cause trouble at times, but it also can help (as in the second story below, when Eshu helps Orunmila escape a destined death). The following stories were all recorded around 1960.
African Myths of Origin (Penguin Classics) Page 11