That night, while all were asleep, Lonkundo and Ilankaka were woken up by noises coming from the smokehouse. They were very frightened. Lonkundo touched his wife’s belly; it was flat and seemed empty. ‘Ilankaka,’ he asked, ‘what has become of your pregnancy?’
She asked him to make a light; he got up to revive the fire, but then something bitter and stinging struck him in the face. The same thing happened when Ilankaka tried to light the fire. The two of them sat clutching each other throughout the night, suffering from the sting of the liquid that had hit them. In the morning, they rushed back to their village as fast as they could. There, they told everyone about their strange experiences, and ordered that all entrances to the village be barred and entry refused to any strangers who might approach. Lonkundo added that they should submit any visitor to the poison ordeal.
The night-time visitor was Itonde, the child from Ilankaka’s belly, who had been coming out at night to eat the meat and who had got caught outside the womb by the trap set by the clever boy. When morning came, he freed himself from the net and left the smokehouse. He sat down in the forest and waited by a path. A duiker came by; he threw a nut at it, killed it, and then cooked it over a fire he made with his fire-starter. Then he ate all of it. A larger antelope came by; again, he killed it, cooked it and ate it. He did this with every animal that came along the path, except for snakes.
He heard a whirring sound, and a hummingbird perched nearby him. He picked up his nut to throw it at the hummingbird, but the bird spoke to him: ‘Why kill me? Aren’t you full after all the animals you have eaten?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Then you don’t need to eat me. Do you know where your family is?’
Itonde put down the nut. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘I shall find someone to help you if you will sing me a song.’
Itonde sang a song for the hummingbird, and the hummingbird fetched the caterpillar-bird who gave Itonde a bell. ‘The bell’s name is the World,’ explained the caterpillar-bird. ‘It will give you anything you want: it contains everything. Wealth, health, fish, storms, lightning, weapons, all is in the bell.’ Itonde examined the bell and saw on it the marks of all the different animals of the forest and the fish of the rivers and the birds of the trees. Gratefully, he accepted the bell and set off, singing a song about the bell. The bell put him on the path to his father’s village.
He came to the village and found the gates barred. The people came out and surrounded him and asked him all sorts of questions, and especially where he came from and why he was travelling alone. He explained that he came from back there – he waved at the forest – and he was going to see the world. They brought him food. He thanked them, and invited them to join his meal. They refused, saying that since he was unmarried he would eat alone. Then he pulled the bell out of his bag and waved it over the food, and the bell sang to him that the food was poisoned and he should not eat it. So he pushed the food aside and walked on. He entered the village and settled by the great wooden gong that was used to send messages across the forest. The people came after him, nervous and frightened, and told him he should not sit by the gong, that this was a spot reserved for the chief and his servants.
Without answering them, Itonde beat on the gong and the sound carried over the village and into the forest. Confused, the people of the village rushed to Lonkundo to ask him what they should do about this stranger. Lonkundo had no idea, but decided he should go and talk to the newcomer.
When he saw Lonkundo, Itonde greeted him as father. Indignant, Lonkundo denied that he was Itonde’s father, but the young man insisted. He said he had been born in their hunting camp where they went to eat bush-rats, and that they had abandoned him there. Lonkundo denied that this boy could be their son; they had left something strange in the smokehouse. Itonde invited the people to compare him to his father: see how similar they were, even their hands were the same shape.
Lonkundo demanded that he undergo the poison ordeal. If the boy could survive the poison they would know he was telling the truth. The villagers brewed up the poison and brought it to Itonde in a cup. Itonde looked about the crowd, then took the cup. He waved his bell over the cup. He called out his name and his accomplishments and the name of his father, but Lonkundo denied that this was his son. He called for his mother Ilankaka; she seized a faggot from the fire and brandished it to hold him away. Then he drank the poison, emptying the cup.
‘I am Itonde,’ he cried, ‘son of Lonkundo and Ilankaka, who was born in the forest and raised in the smokehouse. I am the eater of the bush-rats, the killer of the animals. I am the friend of the hummingbird, and owner of the World.’
Lonkundo brought him another potion. Itonde rang his bell over the potion and drank it down. Lonkundo embraced him. ‘Now I have proof that you are my son,’ he said. ‘I welcome you to the village.’ He sent his servants to assemble his wealth, to prepare an enormous feast with all the available goats and chickens, to empty the storehouses.
‘I shall give you a new name,’ said Lonkundo. ‘You are now Ilelangonda.’
ILELANGONDA’S MARRIAGE
Lonkundo grew old and wanted Ilelangonda to get married. But his son refused all the women whom his father presented to him, although Lonkundo toured the neighbouring villages to select a future bride. Finally, Lonkundo told Ilele – as he was often called – that he should go and find himself a wife. Ilele left his father’s village and went travelling through the forest to other clusters of villages, but nowhere could he find a woman who suited him.
One day he met a man covered with palm oil, so thickly coated with the congealed stuff that he hardly seemed a man. Ilele asked the man what had happened; the man had gone as a suitor to a woman named Mbombe, who was known as the Champion because she was such a good wrestler. She said she could only consider him as a suitor if he defeated her in a wrestling match, and they had wrestled in a great pool of oil. She had thrown him down twice and now he was on his way home, dripping.
At the next village, Ilele found four young women sitting under a tree outside the village; they were dressing each other’s hair. He asked them if this was the village of the Champion Mbombe; they tittered and said that it was. He asked which of them was Mbombe, and she answered him, not at all shy. Ilele said he had come to see her because he was looking for a wife. She told him he must follow the procedures, and he should go into the village and say he had come as a suitor for Mbombe.
Ilele went into the centre of the village, where the people were collected, and announced that he had come as a suitor for Mbombe. The elders of the village chuckled and said he could have his turn in the oil like all the others. Mbombe’s father sent for his servants and had them bring fifty calabashes of oil; they poured this oil out in a depression so that it stood knee-deep. Mbombe and her friends came into the village; Mbombe prepared herself to wrestle.
The two faced each other in the pool of oil. He tried holds on her; she broke them. She tried holds on him; he broke them. Neither could get the advantage on the other. Kungo-ele, the father of Mbombe, stood nearby, and he sang a song in which he told his daughter to use the grip that never failed, and Mbombe seized Ilele, and tripped him into the oil. Ilele rose, saying to himself, ‘By my father Lonkundo! Shall I be beaten by a woman? I should die of shame!’ He sang a small song, and Mbombe felt a strange sensation pass over her. She seized Ilele again with the grip that never failed, but this time she was unable to trip him. She tried to get her shoulder under him; she could not move him. She was the one to stagger in the oil. Her father called out, and she braced herself, but then Ilele seized her and threw her down in the oil. The people were amazed and called out. Mbombe raised herself and they faced each other for the third and last fall. Ilele grew angry and then simply swept her legs out from under her; she fell in the oil and the village cried out, ‘Mbombe has found a husband!’
Ilele had won his bride. The new couple started on the trip back to his father’s village. Kungo-ele gave them an amp
le supply of food to see them on their way, and they departed. But Mbombe found the trip difficult. At every animal track, Ilele would start in fear and cower back, until she approached and examined the spoor. Then she would say, ‘Ilele, it is only the track of a duiker’ or whatever animal had left the trail, and they would continue. In the afternoon they stopped at a good campsite, and Mbombe asked Ilele to cut the poles for the hut. Ilele walked right past the thicket of bembe-wood which is excellent for stakes, and instead cut some reeds by the stream bank. Mbombe had to go and cut the bembe-wood herself. Then Ilele insisted on planting the poles with the fork in the ground, rather than pointing up so the forks could support the poles for the roof. She sent Ilele into the forest to find food; he trampled down some excellent mushrooms, and with great noise brought back a mouse. She had to retrieve what was edible from the mushrooms. Naturally, she had to get the fresh water and the firewood.
The next day she sent him hunting, but he set up the net badly and the porcupine he cornered escaped. He sent her off with the equipment and the dog. She trapped a porcupine, which is considered very good food, but the porcupine changed into an antelope and tore free from the net. She headed back home, but tried setting the net one last time. An antelope got caught, but then turned into a leopard. She called for help, and Ilele heard her; he brought his spear. But he hurled it not at the leopard, but at Mbombe. She flung the net with the leopard in it at him. Ilele ran away.
Ilele ran through the forest. He knocked into a tree and a wood-dove flew out of its nest. ‘I was running, I was running, from a wood-dove,’ he sang, and continued on his way. He passed a pangolin. ‘I was running, I was running, from a pangolin,’ he sang, and continued on his way. He saw some monkeys. ‘I was running, I was running, from monkeys,’ he sang, and continued on his way. In this way he met and named all the creatures of the forest, the frogs and toads and snakes and the small mice and ground squirrels and the hoofed creatures and the various cats and the monkeys and the bats and all the birds.
THE VILLAGE OF WOMEN
Finally, Ilele came to a village space, marked by a single long house. In the house he found an old man sitting alone. Ilele asked him, ‘Don’t you welcome strangers with gifts and food here? I am new to your village.’ The old man answered, ‘Do not tell me your name, if you wish to avoid harm.’
As the day drew to a close, the people of the village assembled: they were all women. One or two wished to kill Ilele immediately, without further question, but the old man said that he should be allowed the usual test: they would feed him and then ask him their names. Then they would kill him, if he failed. So Ilele got food and shelter for a night. But in the morning, after the women had left with a clatter, he could find nothing to eat as he swept out the rubbish.
He took the rubbish behind the long house to throw it away, and was about to relieve himself when a voice spoke up; looking more carefully, he saw an old woman lying under the leaves, covered with ashes and grime. She asked him to wash her face; after some hesitation, he agreed, fetched some water, and cleaned her face. He asked her how she came to be in this condition, and she explained that she had been the chief woman of the village, until a younger woman took her place, and now she enjoyed no respect or consideration from the others. Then she gave him advice on passing the test. He told the old man he was going to look for some raffia for weaving, but instead he slipped away from the long house towards the pond which the women were seining to harvest the fish. It was an artificial pond, the waters held back by a small dyke.
Watching carefully to make sure no one saw him, he used a long pole to break a hole in the lower end of the dyke, so the water began to run out. Then he waited and listened. Soon a woman noticed the damage and ran to repair it, calling to the others to come: Byekela, Nkongaukola, Bongolobokyakonga, Losawaila, Balafasa, Lisekela, Boswe… Each called the other, and Ilele, hidden, carefully noted and remembered the names. That evening, when all assembled for the meal, they called on him to name them; to their astonishment, he was able to go round the room addressing each woman by her name.
They accepted him then, and gave him lots of food; he immediately shared it with the old man, Imentuka, and with the old woman who had given him the advice. As they were eating, Mbombe appeared at the edge of the village. Without saying anything, she joined the circles around the servings of food and prepared to eat, but the women protested: she must first name them before she ate. She named them all, and then sat down and in one mouthful devoured all the food before her. In a few moments, she had eaten all the rest of the food, and the other women withdrew in dismay. Later, Mbombe joined Ilele where he lay under the shade-structure before the long house. ‘This is my place,’ she told him. ‘No one else may come here. Were those women your wives?’
‘No,’ answered Ilele, ‘they are just women from the village.’
MBOMBE’S PREGNANCY
Ilele and Mbombe eventually returned to his village and Mbombe became pregnant. Her appetite vanished; try what he might, Ilelangonda could not get her to eat. But one day a bird flying over the village dropped something, and Mbombe picked it up and took it to her husband. ‘Tell me, Ilele, what is this?’
‘It is called a safu nut; if you cook it in water it becomes soft and good to eat.’ Mbombe cooked the safu nut and ate it; she found it delicious, and her appetite returned. But all she wanted to eat was more safu nuts. She even began to sing love songs to the hornbill that had dropped the fruit. Ilele realized he would have to go and get her some safu nuts. He waited until the hornbill flew by again, and asked him where he had found the nut. The hornbill said that though a bird might easily get the nuts, a human would find it difficult; the tree stood in Sausau’s land and was carefully guarded. Ilele assembled his household and told them what he was about to do. Rather than let his wife sing love songs to a hornbill, he would get her the fruit. If they saw the horn in the shade-house fill with blood, they would know he had run into trouble and was dead. He told them other signs as well. Then he took several baskets and left.
After some travel, he came to the safu nut tree which was guarded by a man called Fetefete who was covered with sores and boils. Ignoring him, Ilele climbed the tree and quickly filled his baskets with safu nuts.
‘Throw me some nuts,’ called Fetefete, but Ilele simply pelted him with unripe nuts, hitting his sores. Fetefete then gave the alarm and Sausau’s village assembled with their weapons to capture the thief. Ilele sang a song of challenge, but then nimbly leaped down and ran away before they could catch him.
When he got home, Mbombe was delighted and devoured the safu nuts. As soon as they were all gone, she again began to weep and to sing her love song to the hornbill who had brought her the first safu nut. Ilele picked up his baskets and returned to the safu tree. He exchanged words with Fetefete, and climbed into the tree; Fetefete gave the alarm. The villagers assembled and spread their nets around the tree. Then they sent the bonjemba bird to fly up and knock the man out of the tree, but Ilele threw a nut at it and knocked it to the ground. Then Ilelangonda made a flying leap outside the circle of the nets and escaped.
This happened many times: Mbombe would eat the nuts as soon as Ilelangonda brought them home, and then weep; Ilele would make his way to the tree, collect more nuts, and then escape the guardians. If they came too close to him, he would pull out his little bell and call down thunder and lightning on them before leaping out of the circle of nets. Finally, the caterpillar-bird told Sausau they must change their strategy if they wished to catch Ilele. They must creep up quietly on him while he was still in the tree, and then guide his fall into their nets. Meanwhile, the turtle, who is well known as a clever trickster, had devised his own plan. He noted that the nets made of woven vines used by all the others failed to catch Ilele and so he made some nets of banana-fibre, which is weak and flimsy. The other villagers laughed at him. He also went off and dug a pit in the area where he had noticed Ilele usually escaped. Over the pit he strung his banana-net.
The next time Ilele came to steal safu nuts for his pregnant wife, they put their plan into action. Fetefete alerted them quietly; they all crept up in silence and surrounded the tree. Then Sausau gave the signal: the guinea-fowl flew up to knock Ilele out of the tree, but Ilele simply threw an overripe nut at the fowl and it spattered the bird with white marks, which it bears to this day. Other birds also flew up, but Ilele held them off with a barrage of nuts. Finally, the blue pheasant darted under his missiles and succeeded in striking the man, and both of them fell from the tree. But then Ilele vanished into the bushes; he was not in the nets they had stretched. They were looking here and there, perplexed, when they heard a cry from a distance away: it was the turtle, calling that he had captured their prey. They did not believe him. But the turtle continued to shout, and so some of Sausau’s men wandered over. There they found that Ilele had fallen into the turtle’s trap and was lying pierced by the stake which the turtle had planted in the pit.
They took up the body and bore it before Father Sausau. They said that they had captured and killed Ilele. When the turtle tried to break into the circle and say that it was his trap that had captured and killed the thief, they pushed him away. He could not be heard.
‘If you killed him,’ said Father Sausau, ‘then you should cut him up.’
The four men tried to butcher the body, but they failed. Their knives had no effect on the remains of Ilele. Then the turtle came in, carrying a sharpened wooden blade. ‘Let me try,’ he called, and since the others obviously could not do the job, he was allowed to proceed. Almost instantly, he reduced the carcass to pieces. The people acclaimed him as the slayer of Ilelangonda.
The signs that Ilele had foretold became manifest in his village: his sister Inonge came crying that the stream had risen beyond its banks; a rope he had coiled had unrolled; the monkeys who sat in the trees over the village had begun to weep and cry, and then a woman came from the shade-house in the village to say that the horn had filled with blood. Ilelangonda’s entire household went into a tumult of weeping and mourning, tearing their hair and lamenting.
African Myths of Origin (Penguin Classics) Page 22