He Who Sows Evil: An African Folklore Story of the Orphan and the Magic Hut

A certain man had two wives. He died and left them behind. Soon after, one of the wives fell ill. Seeing that she was near to death, she called to the second wife and said, "Now you have seen this illness will not leave me. There is my daughter; I have left her as a trust to you. For the sake of Allah and the prophets, look after her well for me."

So the woman died and was buried, and they were left with the child. But instead of kindness, they showed her cruelty.

One day, a sickness took hold of the maiden. She was lying down, weak and groaning. Her stepmother said, "Get up. Go to the stream."

The maiden got up, groaning. She lifted a small calabash and took the road. She went to the stream, drew water, and took it back. She said, "Mother, lift the calabash down for me."

But her stepmother said, "Do you not see I am pounding? Not now. When I have finished."

She finished husking the grain, and then she was winnowing. The maiden stood by. The maiden said, "Mother, lift down the calabash for me."

But her stepmother said, "Do you not see I am winnowing? Not now. When I have finished."

The maiden stood by until she had finished, until she had washed. She paid no attention to the maiden. The maiden said, "Mother, help me down with the water pot."

She said, "Do you not see I am pouring grain into the mortar? Not now, but when I have finished pounding."

The maiden kept standing by until she finished pounding. She re-pounded, she winnowed, she finished. The maiden was still standing.

The maiden said, "Mother, help me down."

But she said, "Do you not see I am putting porridge in the pot? When I have finished."

The maiden kept standing by until she had finished putting the porridge in the pot. The maiden said, "Mother, help me down."

But she said, "If I come to help you down, the porridge will get burned. Wait till the porridge boils."

The porridge boiled. She took it out of the water, then she pounded it, squeezed it, and finished. Still, she did not say anything to the maid.

Suddenly, the wind came like a whirlwind. It lifted the maiden and went off with her, and she was not seen.

The wind took her to the forest bush. There was no one there but she alone. She roamed in the forest until she saw a grass hut. She went up to it. She peeped in and met a thigh-bone and a dog inside.

She drew back, but the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He says you are to come back."

The maiden came back. The thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He says you are to enter."

The maiden entered the hut. She bowed down and prostrated herself. The thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He asks: Can you cook food?"

And the maiden said, "Yes."

So they gave her rice—one single grain—and said she was to cook it. She picked up the single grain of rice. She did not grumble. She put it in the mortar and pounded. When she had finished pounding, the rice filled the mortar. She dry-pounded the rice and finished, and poured it from a height to let the wind blow away the chaff.

She went to the stream and washed it. She brought it back home, set the pot on the fire, and poured in the rice. In a short time, the rice filled the pot.

Then the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He asks: Are you able to make soup?"

The maiden said, "Yes, I can."

The thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!" So the dog got up, went to a small refuse heap, scraped up an old bone, and gave it to the maiden. She received it and put it in the pot.

When a little while had passed, the meat filled the pot. When the meat was ready, she poured in salt and daudawa spice, and she put in all kinds of soup spices. When the soup was ready, she took the pot off the fire. She served out the food and divided it up. Ten helpings she set aside for the thigh-bone; for the dog, she set aside nine helpings; and she set out for herself two.

They ate and were filled.

So it is, because of this: if a stranger has come to you, honour him. Give him food to eat. Meanwhile, you study his nature; you see if it is bad or good.

To return to the story: They went to sleep. At dawn, the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said to the maiden, "He asks: Can you make fura cakes?"

She said, "Yes."

The thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!" Then the dog got up, lifted one grain of corn, brought it, and gave it to her. She received it, put it in the mortar, poured in water, and lifted the pestle. As she wet-pounded, the corn became much.

She took it out, winnowed it, took it to the water, washed it, and returned. She pounded, took it out, winnowed, returned, and poured it in again. She pounded it very finely, took it out, rolled it into cakes, and put it in the pot until it boiled. She took it off the fire, set it down, poured it into the mortar, pounded, took it out, rolled it up into balls, and gave to the thigh-bone three balls. To the dog, she gave two.

When it was dawn, the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He asks: Are you going home?"

She said, "I will go, but I do not know the way."

Then the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!" The dog rose up. He went and brought slaves, beautiful ones. He brought cattle and sheep, horses and fowls, camels and war-horses, and ostriches, and robes—everything in the world, the dog brought and gave to the maiden.

He said, "There they are. The thigh-bone says I must give them to you; you will make them the provision for your journey. And he says he gives you leave to set out and go to your home."

But the maiden said, "I do not know the way."

So the dog told the thigh-bone, and the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

And the dog said, "He says let us set out, and I must show you the way."

So the dog passed on in front. The maiden mounted a camel, and the camel was led. They were going along. The dog brought them until they reached close to her home. The dog turned back.

She herself sent word into the town. She said, "Let the chief be told it was she who was come."

The chief said, "Let them go and meet her."

They went and met her. They drew up at the chief's doorway. The chief gave them permission to alight. They alighted. She took out one-tenth and gave it to the chief. She stayed there until the chief said he wished her in marriage. They were married.

Now, that stepmother of hers (her late father's second wife) was envious. She told her own daughter to go to the stream to draw water for her.

But the little girl said, "Mother, I am not going."

But she (the mother) lifted a reed and drove her, and she went to the stream by compulsion. Now the girl went to the stream, drew water, and took it home. She came across her mother as she was pounding.

She said, "Mother, help me down with the pot."

But her mother said, "I am pounding. Wait till I have finished."

She finished pounding, and the girl said, "Mother, help me down."

But she answered, "I am about to winnow. Wait till I have finished."

She finished winnowing, and the girl said, "Mother, help me down with the pot."

She replied, "I am just going to pound. When I have finished."

When she had finished pounding, then she sought the girl low and high. She did not see her. The wind had lifted her and taken her to the bush.

It cast her there. She was roaming in the forest when she saw a grass hut. She went and peeped in the hut, and she saw a thigh-bone and a dog. She drew back.

The thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He says you are to come."

So she came and said, "Here I am."

The thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

The dog said, "He says you are to sit down."

So she sat down and said, "Mercy on us, a thigh-bone that talks! What sort of a thing is Us! Us?" But they gave no answer.

A short time after, the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

Then the dog said, "He asks: Can you cook food?"

And she said, "Ah, it's a bad year when the partridge has seen them planting out the young trees instead of sowing, when it could eat the seed. A thigh-bone, too—even it has an interpreter. I am able. You, I suppose, have the grain, when you are asking if people can cook food."

They gave no answer. But the dog got up, lifted one single grain of rice, and gave her.

"What's this?" she said. "Today I am about to see how one single grain of rice makes food."

The dog replied, "As for you, make it thus."

She lifted the rice and put it in the mortar. She was pounding, and after a little while, the rice became much. She dry-pounded it, took it out, poured it out so as to blow away the chaff, poured on water, and cooked it.

By the time she had finished cooking it, the rice filled the pot. She was amazed.

The dog lifted up a year-old bone, brought it, and gave her.

Then she said, "What am I to do with it? This is a year-old bone?"

The dog replied, "As for you, make it thus."

She said, "Are you supposed to be conjurers? I warn you; it is not my business that wizards should eat me."

The dog remained silent; not a thing did he say.

She washed the bone and put it in the pot, and in a short time, the pot was full of meat. The girl was amazed. But she stirred the food, took it out, and set the soup down. She put aside for the thigh-bone three helpings, and for the dog, two. But the dog was angry because he saw her share was large, and theirs very small.

He said, "What's this?"

When he would have said, "Haba," he could only say, "Hab hab," because he had not told the thigh-bone first before he spoke.

Formerly, the dog was a minister at court and used to talk like a person. When on this day he got in a temper in front of the king, he condemned him to say "Hab! Hab!" if he rose up to quarrel. And the moral of this is: a youth must not lose his temper in the presence of an elder.

Now they had eaten their food and slept. At dawn, the thigh-bone said, "Us! Us!"

Then the dog was not able to speak, but he went and brought blind men, and lepers, and blind horses, and lame asses. Sheep, robes, and trousers were brought to her, and the dog showed her the way. He brought her to near her home and turned back.

But the thigh-bone drove him away, so he came back very quickly and joined them. He followed them until they reached the house. That is the first time the dog came to the house; formerly, he was in the bush.

Well, to continue: When they had got near the house, then she (the girl) sent one leper from among her retinue. He sat on a blind horse, and his message was to tell the chief she had come. The chief allowed her to be met.

The chief made the Galadima and many people go and meet them. When they reached the open space in front of the chief's house, then a stink filled the town.

Then the chief said they were to be taken far back, to a distance behind the town. They were led behind the town. Far away, they were to make their houses.

When the mother of this maiden saw all this, then she became black of heart and died.

That was the first appearance of wickedness, which is not a beautiful thing. Whoever commits a sin against another, it comes back on himself. As a certain learned man sung—may Allah dispense mercy on him—he says:

"Whosoever sows evil, it comes forth in his own garden."

That is true without a doubt. Have you heard?

That is all.

Off with the rat's head.

THE END...