Stories Gogo Told Me

by Lisa Grainger

  Jindwe had never seen such a beautiful girl, and as he stared, spellbound at her long dark hair and soft skin, she started falling to the floor. ‘Water! Water!’ she sighed, lying on the ground. ‘Please, my dear husband, get me water!’ Quickly, Jindwe ran back to the river. But he was too late. By the time he got back to the girl, all that was left on the path was a pumpkin shell with a shrivelled pumpkin flower lying nearby.

  Jindwe was terribly upset. The girl had been beautiful. And she had called him husband – something no one had ever called him before. ‘I now know what the old lady meant,’ he thought. ‘Make sure you fill them with water as soon as they break, and you will be richly rewarded for ever.’

  Picking up his bag of five pumpkins, Jindwe ran back to the river. One by one, he took them out and cracked them open on a rock, filling each with water as they split. As he did so, five maidens appeared, each more beautiful than he’d ever seen. ‘We are the daughters of the crocodile king,’ they said, ‘and we have been sent by his wife, the Old Lady of the River, as thanks for your kindness and by our father for your politeness. If you accept us as your wives, we will love and care for you forever.’

  Jindwe was overjoyed, and together the six of them walked back to his small hut. Inside, each maiden took a turn in showing her new husband her magical skills. ‘I can spin wild cotton,’ said the first, showing him a piece of soft cloth. ‘I weave palm baskets,’ said the second, presenting him with a finely patterned beer basket. ‘I am magic and will bring rain to your crops,’ said the third. ‘I will tend your crops, keep your house and cook dishes for your delight,’ said the fourth, smiling and showing him her muscles.

  Finally, the last princess looked at him shyly. ‘I am the Star of Fertility,’ she smiled. ‘I will make your flocks expand and your crops blossom, and every autumn I will bear a son or daughter to bring pride to your kingdom.’

  Jindwe’s big lips stretched into a happy smile. ‘We are blessed,’ he said, ‘and between us we will make our people mighty.’

  He was right. Today, there are many of Jindwe’s ancestors throughout Africa. He became a great king, and his story of his crocodile daughters is known throughout the lands. Now everyone wants big lips. It is a sign that you are a descendant of one of the earth’s greatest kings – Jindwe, the keeper of Big Lips and a Big Heart, and the only man who has ever been rewarded by a crocodile.

  The long-eared thief

  Told to me in Shona by Pastor John Chirenje in Kwekwe, Zimbabwe

  Once upon a time a famine overcame the land. Rain didn’t fall, the skies were clear and the sun shone so brightly it baked the earth red and dry. There were only muddy puddles to drink, and dry sticks to eat. It was a terrible time for the animals.

  One day King Elephant (as he was then) called his kingdom to a meeting to decide what to do. ‘My dear creatures,’ he said ponderously, his trunk waving this way and that. ‘We have to face it. Not one of us is a farmer, really, but at times like this we don’t have a choice. Either we starve to death or we try to grow something. What do you say?’

  ‘Farm?’ roared the animals, as a great guffaw filled the air, monkeys tittering, antelopes hooting, hyenas giggling and lions roaring. ‘We’re wild animals, Elephant – we don’t farm!’

  Elephant wasn’t pleased. ‘Silence,’ he trumpeted, stamping his great front foot, sending dust flying. ‘If anyone has a better idea, come forward.’ But no one did have a better idea. Everyone had already tried their ideas – and failed. ‘Right then. See you first thing tomorrow by the river,’ snorted Elephant, rather pleased with himself.

  The summer passed and, thanks to their marvellous vegetable patch of fat pumpkins, golden maize and sweet potatoes, the animals fattened up. All of them but one, that is. Hare, being a bit of an arrogant, lazy creature, had decided farming was below a clever, fast, crafty creature like him. So, while the animals were toiling in their soil, lazy Hare lay about.

  At first Hare had more than enough food – he chomped happily on roots beneath the ground and nibbled on acorns or bits of bark. But when his ribs began to show, he knew he had to make a plan.

  One day, when he was on the path back to his burrow, Hare bumped into Honeybadger carrying a great pot of honey. ‘Dear friend Honeybadger, cleverest animal in the kingdom,’ whispered Hare in a snivelly, mousy voice. ‘I have had so little food that I am almost fainting with hunger. Could you possibly help me?’ Honeybadger, looking at Hare’s bony ribs, grudgingly parted with his pot of the yummiest, scrummiest honey Hare had ever seen. But he didn’t intend to eat it. ‘The animals will never be able to resist this as a bribe,’ he smiled, licking his sticky lips as he hopped along.

  That night Hare crept to the fields with his pot of honey and, as he had predicted, beside the animals’ crops Impala stood guard. ‘Who goes there?’ harruphed Impala. ‘It is only I, the Hare, with my pot of golden honey,’ said Hare sweetly. Impala pricked up his ears. ‘Honey?’ he snorted, a touch of envy in his voice. ‘Yes, I’ve been given it to guard,’ said Hare. ‘My friends are allowed to sip it on one condition: that their legs and arms are tied up first. It is so sweet, you see, that whoever tastes it might wrench it from me to get more.’

  Impala, naturally, could not resist tasting such a superior honey. So soon Hare was tying the silly creature’s legs together, before lowering the honey pot to Impala’s mouth. ‘This honey is heavenly!’ Impala sighed, closing his eyes and slowly licking little dribbles of golden liquid dripping from his chin. ‘May I have one more sip, Hare?’ But when he looked up, Hare was no longer there. The cunning creature had hopped off into the maize patch, and he was comfortably chomping the animal kingdom’s great golden cobs.

  ‘Stop thief!’ shouted Impala, snorting and screeching and wriggling and waggling his tied-up legs in the dust. But there was nothing he could do. Hare had well and truly trussed him up. So there he lay, until the next day.

  When dawn came and the animals arrived at the field, they were furious to see their maize plants bare. ‘Greedy Impala,’ trumpeted Elephant. ‘Useless antelope,’ howled Wild Dog. ‘Stupid creature!’ screeched Monkey.

  As the shamefaced impala was untied, honey still dripping from its lips, Elephant picked another animal to stand on guard: Hyena. ‘At least hyenas eat meat and won’t be tempted by Hare’s honey tricks,’ said Elephant crossly, picking up a few stray cobs of maize Hare had left lying on the ground as he stomped off.

  All night Hyena stood guarding the crops. It was tiring and tedious work and Hyena could feel his eyelids slowly drooping downwards. Just as he was dozing off, under his nose wafted the sweetest smell he’d ever encountered: a mix of roses and oranges and roasted nuts and marula fruits. Mmmmmn! he purred. When he opened his eyes, under his nose was a huge pot of honey. And Hare.

  ‘Why hello my dear friend Hyena,’ said Hare smilingly. ‘How splendid to see you under such a fabulous full moon. Can I tempt you to a sweet sip?’ Hyena knew he should say no to Hare’s smooth tricks, but the nearer his nose got to the luscious liquid, the less he could resist. ‘Go on, then, tie me up for one sip,’ he ordered Hare. ‘But make it quick.’

  So, just as Hyena had requested, Hare took the rope from his pocket, tied Hyena’s four legs up, and gave him a sip of honey. While Hyena’s eyes were rolling in delight at the delicious honey, the long-eared scoundrel scampered off into the maize.

  What Hare had forgotten is that Hyena can make the most horrific noise when he wants to – wild whooooooooops and witchlike cackles that would wake any slumbering creature. And cross hyenas make the worst sounds of all. When this one realised he had been tricked, he set his vocal cords free, hollering and howling and cackling and whooping for all his might, waking every creature from their jungle beds and sending them running into the fields.

  Hare, hearing the crashing and crackling of breaking branches as animals tore through the bush, knew his stealing days were over. As fast as his legs would take him, he hopped away – under logs, through grass, over
springs and along muddy paths – until he came to the muddy puddles of the river. Animals didn’t normally go near this part, for there lived a tribe of ever-hungry crocodiles. But crafty Hare once more had a plan.

  ‘Quick crocodiles, line up,’ panted the sly scoundrel. ‘The king is coming to count all the creatures of his kingdom and he has ordered me to order you to get in a line.’ The crocodiles, hearing the great crashing of branches approaching the river, believed that King Elephant was indeed coming. So, nose to tail, they lined up from one side of the riverbank to the other.

  No sooner had they done it than Hare sprung from the riverbank onto their backs and was hopping, crocodile to crocodile, until he reached the other side. ‘Thanks crocodiles, for making a bridge,’ he said, giving a happy little whoop as he landed on the other bank. ‘Tricked you as well!’

  The crocodiles snapped and lashed their tails in anger when they realised their sleep had been disturbed by a long-eared lying Hare, but it was too late. He had escaped. And when the rest of the animals arrived, puffing and panting, and scratched by branches and thorns, Hare had vanished. And the crocodile crossing had vanished too.

  No matter how loudly they harrumphed and snorted and trumpeted with frustration, there was nothing the animals could do. Once more Hare had tricked them. Yet again, he had stolen from them. And as ever, he had got away with it. Why? Because he’s clever. And all the animals in the jungle know: Clever wins!

  The lion, the snake and the man

  Told to me in Shona by Maureen Chirembwe in Mabvuku, Zimbabwe

  Once upon a time a man called Mufakise was walking through the forest on the way to his field when he heard a strange noise. Hisssssssss! It whistled into the sky. Roarrrrrrrr! It rose into the clouds. Heeeeeeey! It shouted towards the sun. Cupping his ear, Mufakise walked towards the sound until he reached a deep, dark pit.

  ‘Who are you that hisses, roars and shouts?’ Mufakise stammered nervously, as he peered into the darkness. ‘Tell me your name and what you’re shouting about.’

  From the pit came a thin, weedy voice, obviously tired of shouting. ‘Thank goodness you have come, kind man,’ it said. ‘We have fallen into a pit and can’t get out.’

  Mufakise crept forward and leant over the edge. Sure enough, in the darkness beneath the surface of the earth, stood a man, a lion and a snake.

  Mufakise wasn’t quite sure what to do – or who to help first. ‘If I help the lion he might eat me before I rescue the others,’ he reasoned. ‘If I help the snake he might bite me. The sensible thing, I suppose, would be to help the man. The man like me.’

  Kneeling at the edge of the pit, he lowered his arm into the darkness and offered the man a hand up. Gripping it tightly, the man pulled on it, scrambled up, and then vanished into the forest. ‘Not even a word of thanks,’ muttered Mufakise. ‘And he was a man. A man like me.’

  Shaking his head at the man’s bad manners, Mufakise put his hand down to help the snake. Unlike the man, the snake was delighted by Mufakise’s help. ‘Thankkkkkkkksssss, Mufakissssse, you are a man amongst men,’ it hissed happily, slithering around his feet with joy. ‘One day I shall return the favour. I will not forget.’

  Finally, pleased with the snake’s manners, Mufakise pulled the lion out. He, too, was delighted with the man’s help. ‘Mufakise, you are a marvel,’ he purred happily. ‘You will not regret this. And one day I shall return the favour.’ And off he trotted.

  Mufakise, feeling pleased at his three good deeds, spent the rest of his day happily tending his fields. At sunset, he put down his tools and walked home to make his supper. But instead of his usual empty hut, there, sitting in the sun, was Lion, accompanied by a beautiful girl and a herd of fat brown cows.

  Lion greeted him with a friendly roar before explaining his visit. ‘A lion always keeps its promise and I said I would return your favour,’ he rumbled. ‘Please accept the chief’s daughter as your wife, and the finest herd in the land as a gift from me.’

  Mufakise couldn’t believe his luck and thanked the Lion. ‘You have rewarded me richly,’ he said. ‘I will never forget that. Or the rudeness of the man, the man like me.’

  The next day, when Mufakise returned home to his new wife and his cows, another guest was waiting. This time it was Snake, with a little leather bag of magic herbs to cure snakebite. ‘A snake always keeps its word, and I said I would return the favour,’ he hissed. ‘Always carry this magic bag and you will have the power to save anybody.’

  Again, Mufakise thanked his animal friend and put the bag of herbs on a leather thong round his neck. ‘What manners Snake has to reward me so richly,’ he marvelled again. ‘They are so much better than Man’s, the man like me.’

  Unbeknown to Mufakise, the man actually lived in the next village to him. One day a royal messenger arrived there with a notice from the king. ‘My daughter has vanished, and my royal herd,’ the royal proclamation said. ‘The man who returns them will be richly rewarded.’

  The man was very excited, for he had heard that Mufakise had a beautiful new wife and a herd of fine cows. ‘They must be the king’s,’ he thought excitedly and ran to the palace to report his suspicions. That night the king’s soldiers arrived at Mufakise’s hut. And sure enough, the man was right. Mufakise was living with the chief’s daughter, and in his kraal were the king’s royal herd. At once the soldiers arrested Mufakise and marched him off to jail.

  As he lay on the hard jail floor that night, cold and miserable, Mufakise heard a hiss. There, in a corner, was Snake. ‘Mufakise, you have been wronged,’ he hissed. ‘You have been wronged by the man, the man like you. So we animals have made a plot to put it right.’ Then he vanished into the night.

  The puzzled Mufakise went to sleep and was woken the next day by shouting outside the jail. ‘The king has been bitten by a snake and is dying,’ the voice said. ‘Whoever can save him will be richly rewarded.’

  Mufakise felt around his neck. There, on a leather thong, hung the magic pouch of herbs Snake had given him. ‘Thank you, Snake,’ he smiled. ‘For I can now save the king.’

  Mufakise called the guards, and after he had showed them his magic herbs, they marched him off to the king’s kraal. The king lay almost dead on his bed, but just as the snake had promised, once Mufakise had applied the herbs to the snakebite, the king’s eyes opened. Soon his fever broke and he could sit up. He was saved.

  ‘Oh great healer of men,’ the king said, holding Mufakise’s hand. ‘You have saved my life. And for that you will be richly rewarded. What would you like?’

  Mufakise looked at him happily. ‘Oh great King, I have three favours to ask: that I am reunited with your daughter, who is my beloved wife, that you let me look after your fat brown cows again, and that your tribe stops hunting Lion and Snake. They are the kings of creatures, and it is thanks to them that we are all happy and well.’

  The king agreed and Mufakise was soon reunited with his wife and their cows and sent home with great riches. From that day on, the man, the lion and the snake have lived happily ever after.

  The lion men

  Told to me in Shona by poet Chirikure Chirikure, in Harare, Zimbabwe, and Janet Pakwenda, a subsistence farmer from Fringilla, outside Lusaka, Zambia. Also told in Bemba by Delina Ngulube, a leper, at the Latete leper colony in Zambia

  Many years ago in the golden valleys of Africa lived a man and wife, their three beautiful daughters and a young son. The daughters were known throughout their valley for their pretty brown eyes, slender ankles, soft skin and kind hearts. Every month, local suitors would flock to the girls’ father to ask for their hand in marriage. But every time they would be turned away, disappointed. The girls simply refused to get married if it meant being parted from one another. ‘If we get married, we will marry together,’ they vowed.

  One evening, as the girls sat round the fire, three handsome young men appeared from the forest wearing lion skins around their waists. They were the tallest, strongest warriors the girls had ever s
een and quickly the girls pulled up their best wooden stools and invited the men to sit and eat with them.

  The men explained that they were from a magical kingdom far away, where the hills were as blue as the sky, and the water as sweet as honey. Food, they said, was plentiful. The children were healthy and fat. And the women were so content that every day the air was filled with happy song. ‘The only thing missing in our lives,’ they said, ‘is beautiful brides like you. And that is why we are here. We have come to ask whether you would do us the honour of marrying us?’

  The girls were very excited. At last they could get married and all stay together. They could be sisters as well as sisters-in-law! Their children would grow up together. It was perfect. But there was a problem. Their parents had always warned them of strangers – especially those from unknown kingdoms. They would definitely not agree to these foreign young men taking their precious daughters. There was only one solution: to run away. Quietly, by the light of the moon, the three girls packed a small bundle of belongings, and crept away by the light of the moon with their new husbands.

  What the girls hadn’t counted on was their little brother spying on them from behind a rock. Like most little brothers, he didn’t want to be left out of anything, and soon he was stamping his feet and shouting. ‘I’m your protector, so take me too,’ he screeched. ‘If you don’t I’ll fetch father to come and get you!’

  The girls didn’t like the idea of taking their little brother, but they certainly didn’t want him to wake their father. So, making him promise to keep quiet, they agreed, and quickly set off on their journey. For three days and three nights the seven of them walked through kraals and over koppies, climbed rocks and waded rivers. On the fourth day they came to the most beautiful valley they had ever seen.