The Village Witch Doctor and Other Stories

by Amos Tutuola

  Don’t Pay Bad for Bad

  Dola and Babi were good friends in their days. Both were young ladies, and they had loved each other heartily from when they were children. They always wore the same kind of dress, and they went together everywhere in their village, and to other villages as well. They did everything together, so much so that anyone who did not know their parents believed they were twins.

  So Dola and Babi went about together until when they grew to be the age for marriage. Because they loved each other so much, they decided within themselves to marry two men who were born of the same mother and father, and who lived together in the same house, so that they might be with each other always.

  Luckily, a few days after Dola and Babi decided to do so, they heard of two young men who were born of the same mother and father, and who lived together in the same house. So Babi married one of the young men while Dola married the second one, who was older than the first one. So Dola and Babi were very happy now, living together as they had before they had been married in their husbands’ house.

  A few days after their marriage, Dola cleared a part of the front of the house very neatly. She sowed one kola-nut on the spot. After some weeks the kola-nut shot up. Then she filled up one earthen jar with water and she put it before her new kola-nut tree. Then every early morning, Dola would go and kneel down before the tree and jar. She would pray to the tree to help her to get a baby very soon, and after the prayer, she would drink some of the water which was inside the earthen jar. After that, she would go back to her room before the other people in the house woke. Dola did this early every morning, because she believed that there was a certain spirit who came and blessed the kola-nut tree and the water in the night.

  After some months, the kola-nut tree grew to the height of about one metre. But now the domestic animals of the village began to eat the leaves of the tree and this hindered its growth.

  One morning, Babi met Dola abruptly as she knelt down before the kola-nut tree and jar and prayed. After she had prayed and then stood up, Babi asked in surprise, ‘Dola, what were you telling your kola-nut tree?’

  ‘Oh, this kola-nut tree is my god, and I ask it every morning to help me get a baby soon,’ Dola explained calmly, pointing a finger at the tree and jar.

  When Babi noticed that the animals of the village had eaten nearly all the leaves of the tree, she went back to her room. She took the top part of her large water pot, the bottom of which had broken away. She gave it to Dola, and she told her to shield her kola-nut tree with it so that the animals wouldn’t be able to eat its leaves again.

  Dola took the large pot from her and thanked her fervently. Then she shielded her tree with it, and as from that morning the animals were unable to eat the leaves of the tree. And so it was growing steadily in the centre of the large pot.

  A few years later, the tree yielded the first kola-nuts. The first kola-nuts that the tree yielded were of the best quality in the village, and because the nuts were the best quality, the kola-nut buyers hastily bought all the nuts, paying a considerable amount of money. Similarly, when the tree yielded the second and third kola-nuts, the buyers bought them with large amounts of money as before.

  In selling the kola-nuts, Dola became a wealthy woman within a short period. Having seen this, Babi became jealous of Dola’s wealth.

  Jealously, Babi demanded back the water pot: ‘Dola, will you please return my large water pot to me this morning?’

  Dola was greatly shocked. She asked, ‘What? The broken water pot without a bottom?’

  ‘Yes, my broken water pot. I want to take it back this morning,’ Babi replied with a jealous voice.

  ‘Well, the water pot cannot be returned to you at this time unless I break it into pieces before it can come from around my kola-nut tree,’ Dola replied with a dead voice.

  ‘You must not break it or split the head of my water pot before you return it to me!’ Babi shouted angrily.

  ‘I say it cannot be taken away from the tree without breaking it or cutting the tree down,’ Dola explained angrily.

  Babi boomed on Dola: ‘Yes, you may cut your tree down if you wish to do so. But all I want from you is my water pot!’

  Dola reminded Babi with a calm voice, ‘Please, Babi, I remind you now that both of us started our friendship when we were children. Because of that, don’t try to take your water pot back at his time.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I don’t forget at any time that we are friends. But at all costs, I want the water pot now,’ Babi insisted with a great noise.

  That revealed to Dola at last that Babi simply wanted to destroy her kola-nut tree so that she might not get the nuts from it to sell any more. She went to the chief of the village. She begged him to help her persuade Babi not to take the head of her water pot back.

  However, when the chief of the village failed to persuade Babi not to take the water pot back from Dola, he judged the case in favour of Babi and said that Dola must return the water pot to her.

  Then to her sorrow, Dola’s kola-nut tree was cut down, and the water pot was taken away from the tree without breaking, and Dola returned it to Babi. Now, Babi was very happy and she burst out laughing not because of the water pot but because Dola’s kola-nut tree had been cut down, as she believed that Dola would not get kola-nuts to sell again.

  As soon as the water pot was returned to Babi, she and Dola entered the house and they continued their friendship, for Dola did not show in her behaviour towards Babi that her tree which had been cut down was a great sorrow for her.

  A few months after the tree was cut down, Babi was delivered of a female baby. And on the morning that the baby was named, Dola gave her a fine brass ring as a present. Dola told Babi to put the ring on the baby’s neck, brass being one of the most precious metals in those days.

  Babi, with laughter, took the brass ring from Dola, and with great admiration she put it on the baby’s neck immediately. And this brass ring so much beautified the baby that, from her beautiful look, now it seemed as if she was created with it. The brass ring was carefully moulded without any joint.

  Then ten years passed away like one day. One fine morning, as the baby – who was by then a daughter – was celebrating her tenth birthday, Dola walked gently into Babi’s sitting room and said, ‘Babi, my good friend. I shall be very glad if you will return my brass ring this morning.’ Dola smiled to see that Babi’s guests were silent with shock.

  Babi stood up suddenly, scowling, and shouted, ‘Which brass ring?’

  ‘My brass ring which is on your daughter’s neck now.’ Dola pointed a finger at Babi’s daughter’s neck, explaining as if she were simply joking.

  ‘This very brass ring which is on my daughter’s neck now?’ Babi, after clearing her throat, shouted to show disapproval of Dola’s demand: ‘Dola! You are joking!’

  Dola scowled and replied softly, ‘I am not joking in any way, and I want you to return my brass ring now.’

  Babi grunted like a pig, ‘Hmm!’ and begged with extreme misery and with tears rolling down her cheeks, ‘Please, my good friend, don’t try to take your brass ring back now. As you know, before the ring can be taken away from my daughter’s neck, her head will be cut off first because it is already bigger than the ring!’

  ‘I don’t tell you to cut off the head of your daughter, but all I want is my brass ring, and I want it without cutting it.’

  At last, when Dola still insisted on taking her brass ring back, Babi went to the same chief of the village. She told him that Dola was attempting to kill her daughter.

  Fortunately, the chief judged the case in favour of Dola when she explained to him how her kola-nut tree was cut down when Babi insisted on taking her water pot back ten years ago.

  And in the judgement the chief added that the head of Babi’s daughter would be cut off on the assembly ground which was in front of his palace, and also in the presence of all the people of the village, so that everyone might learn that jealousy was bad. Then a special d
ay was fixed for beheading the daughter.

  When the day was reached, and after all the people of the village had gathered on the assembly ground, and the chief and his prominent people had been seated, then the chief called Babi loudly. He told her to put her ten-year-old daughter in the middle of the circle, and she obeyed. She and her daughter stood wobbling with fear while the swordsman, who was ready to behead the daughter, stood fiercely behind the daughter with a long dazzling sword in his hand.

  The crowd of people, prominent people, and the chief were so overwhelmed by mercy that all were quiet suddenly while looking at the poor innocent daughter and her mother Babi, who looked thin and gaunt.

  It was some minutes before the chief could reluctantly announce to Babi loudly, ‘Now, Babi, today is Dola’s day. Just as Dola’s kola-nut tree was cut down ten years ago when you insisted and took back the head of your water pot from her, it is so that the head of your daughter will be cut off now, when Dola’s brass ring will be taken away from the neck of your daughter and then it will be given back to Dola!’ The gathering mumbled with grief, and then all became quiet at once.

  Then as the chief closed his eyes with grief, he gave the order to the swordsman to behead Babi’s daughter. But, just as the swordsman raised his sword up to cut the head off, Dola hastily stopped him by pulling his arm down, and then she announced loudly, ‘It will be a great pity if this daughter of mine is killed, because she has not offended me. No! It was her jealous mother.

  ‘And I believe, if we continue to pay “bad” for “bad”, bad will never finish on earth. Therefore, I forgive Babi all that she has done to my kola-nut tree of which she was jealous!’

  The chief and the rest of the people clapped and shouted loudly with happiness when they heard this announcement from Dola. Then everyone went back to his or her house. And Dola and Babi were still good friends throughout the rest of their lives.

  Akanke and the Jealous Pawnbroker

  There once lived in a village an old man who had only one daughter named Akanke. This old man was so poor that all of his neighbours and friends believed that he was destined for poverty from birth. Although he was a hard-working man from his youth, as he grew older it was so that his poverty became more serious.

  At last he became so entirely old and weary that he could not go and work on his farm for his living. Then his only daughter, Akanke, advised him to pawn her for money so that he might get money for his food. So without delay, but with great sorrow, this old man took Akanke to a pawnbroker who lived in another village, and he pawned Akanke for forty naira. Having got the money, this old man returned to his village with the money.

  The pawnbroker was a middle-aged woman. She was very greedy and jealous, and she had only one son who was about twelve years old. She loved this her son so much that she indulged him in everything: she did not even allow him to do any work.

  The work that Akanke was going to do for her was to grind corn until Akanke’s old father would be able to refund the forty naira for which she was pawned.

  In the village of this pawnbroker there was a very large flat grinding stone, on which all the people of the village ground their corn, pepper, and many other things. None of the people of this village could tell how the strange stone came there. It was on the outskirts of the village, and it was by the side of the strange road which the goblins used to pass through to the place of their meetings in the night. Anyone who came there on the night of their meeting would be carried away by the goblins.

  But as this pawnbroker was merciless, she forced poor Akanke to go and grind corn on the stone every night. She was not worried at all whether Akanke was carried away by the goblins. When it was the seventh day of the week, when everyone avoided the place of the stone, Akanke reminded her mistress, the jealous pawnbroker, ‘It is the night that the goblins will pass by the stone to get to the place of their meeting.’

  The pawnbroker answered, shouting with great annoyance, ‘Akanke, you are a fool to remind me of the goblins’ meeting this night! Don’t you know that your old father has pawned you for money? Eh, Akanke, you must understand as from now that a pawned girl like you must work at any time in the day or night! Better you put the basket of corn on your head and go and grind it for me, or if you refuse to go to the stone this night, then better you go and tell your old father to pay my forty naira back at once!’

  Willing or not, Akanke, with tears rolling down her cheeks, carried the corn to that strange grinding stone that night.

  Akanke had hardly got to the stone when she knelt down before it and began to grind the corn as hastily as she could in fear, so that she might leave there before the goblins would come and pass through there to the place of meeting.

  Akanke tried her best to grind all the corn so that she might leave there before the arrival of the goblins, but all her efforts were in vain. At last, a one-headed goblin who first arrived and met her there stopped and shouted horribly at Akanke: ‘Who are you, grinding corn on this stone in this night? Don’t you know that we goblins are having our meeting this night, and that we will pass through here to the place of our meeting?’

  ‘Yes, I am sure that you goblins will pass through here this night, and of course I reminded my mistress, the jealous pawnbroker, about it. But she forced me to come here,’ Akanke explained with fear, in a trembling voice.

  ‘Better you leave here now, I advise you,’ that one-headed goblin warned Akanke with a terrible noise, ‘because if the two-, three-, four-, five-, six- and seven-headed goblins, who are my masters, meet you here, they will carry you away. Leave now before it is too late for you!’ Then he passed through there to the place of their meeting.

  But Akanke could not return to the pawnbroker without grinding all the corn.

  A few minutes later, the master goblins arrived. They were two-, three-, four-, five-, six- and seven-headed goblins. The one with seven heads was their king. He stopped together with the rest in front of Akanke and shouted impatiently, ‘Who are you so brave as to come here to grind corn this night? Are you human or some other being?’

  ‘It was not my wish to come and grind corn here this night, but my mistress, who is a jealous pawnbroker and to whom I am pawned for money, has forced me to come here this night.’ Akanke was trembling from feet to head, with fear, as she explained this to the king of goblins, and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

  Luckily, he listened to her attentively. He did not attempt to kill or take her away as he usually did. Instead he was sorry when he had heard her explanation. After he paused for a while, he told her to spread her head tie on the grinding stone. When she had done so with fear, he pulled out one of the seven horns which he wore on his seven heads. When he had put the horn on the head tie and recited some magic words on it, a strange cowrie came out from it, and it fell on to the head tie.

  ‘All right. Wrap up the cowrie with your head tie and take it to your old father, and put it in the room and leave it there for one night. He should go back to that room the following morning, and whatever he finds in the head tie when he unwraps it, it is his. And I am sure that you and your old father will be happy. But I warn you, don’t attempt to come to this stone at night again!’ In this way, the king of goblins had taken pity on the condition of Akanke and her father.

  The king of goblins had hardly left there when Akanke, with great fear, wrapped up the cowrie with her head tie, and she then went in the darkness direct to her father. She and her old father put the head tie in the room as soon as she entered the house. After, she told him how the king of goblins had had mercy for her although she had ground corn on the stone in the night when the goblins passed through there on their way to their meeting.

  It was to Akanke’s and her father’s greatest surprise that they entered the room the following morning. They did not believe their eyes at first when they met more than two thousand naira on the floor.

  And that very morning, her father took above forty naira from that money. He and Akanke wen
t to the jealous pawnbroker. He refunded her forty naira, for which Akanke was pawned, and in addition he gave her a few naira as a reward.

  But the pawnbroker was so jealous when she saw a large sum of money in Akanke’s father’s hand that she refused the reward. She saw that although she had treated Akanke badly, the bad treatment had forced her to meet her good fortune.

  ‘Take your money away. I know how Akanke got it, and I shall send my own son to go and grind the corn on the same stone, and my son will get an even larger amount of money from the same king of goblins. Go back to your village now!’ the jealous pawnbroker spoke jealously, and she proudly frowned at Akanke and her old father. Then Akanke and her old father left for their village happily.

  The jealous pawnbroker shrugged and said to herself as they left, ‘Who would accept such a little amount of money as a reward from them when I know where Akanke got it!’

  The very next night that the goblins would pass by the stone to go to the place of their meeting, this jealous pawnbroker gave some quantity of corn to her son. She told him to go and grind it on the same stone.

  As soon as he began to grind the corn, the king of goblins and his followers met the boy there. All of them stopped. ‘Who are you again?’ the king of goblins shouted with great passion. ‘Yes, it is high time enough to teach the people of this village a lesson. Last time,’ he continued with annoyance, ‘I met one lady here, and of course it was your mother, the pawnbroker, who sent her.

  ‘But this night I shall take you away to my house instead of giving you money, because your mother is disturbing us here too much,’ he shouted angrily at the boy.

  Then he gripped the poor boy so suddenly that he shrank with fear to the size of a lizard. The king threw him in the big bag which was hung on his left shoulder, and he and his followers went direct to the place of their meeting.

  After his mother, the jealous pawnbroker, had waited till the following morning but did not see him return, she went to the strange stone. But she found nothing there. She tried with all her effort to get her son back, but she failed.