by Amos Tutuola
“What? So it is you, Tort the Shell-man, who has been stealing away the market-women’s wares all these days?” The king, chiefs and counselors were greatly surprised. “Well, Tort, let you be the sacrifice for Osanyin today and forever!” the king shouted and cursed him angrily.
It was so the king’s curse had come upon Tort the Shell-man, and thus he was ruined by his cunning, greed, and selfishness. Then the king praised the One-footed Osanyin greatly and he gave him a valuable present in reward of his bravery.
TORT’S BITTER MARRIAGE
Pauper and Brawler were born and lived in a big city, well crowded with people. At last, Pauper became Tort’s real first name, for he kept too long in a very miserable condition. From his youth he was so poor that he went from one dustbin to another and he collected the crumbs of rotten food that which he ate; otherwise he would have died of hunger in his youth. It was this he did for a number of years. His nickname was Shell-man while his surname was Tort, which he inherited from his father. Being that Shell-man’s father was a great niggard in his time, the name “Tort” was given to his father in respect of his niggardliness.
Pauper Tort was so lazy that he hardly maintained his very small farm, which was a little distance from the city. Although the farm did not yield good crops, Pauper got welfare aid from some people of importance in the city, since he was also a great sweet-talker. Pauper was also a great agitator whose agitation was so strong that it roused hundreds of people who opposed the king of the city. But people hated him later, for he talked and agitated to the point that enemies besieged the city several times.
Afterwards, Brawler became the first name of Yanribo, while Yanribo was her surname and her nickname was Beetle-lady. The name “Brawler” was given to her in respect of her abnormal attitudes. She was a great brawler, the most obstinate and self-willed Beetle-lady who ever lived in the land during that century.
Then Tort the Shell-man, who was afterwards called “Pauper,” was a handsome young man, though he was very miserable. Later, he married Yanribo, who was the great Brawler, and as a married woman her nickname was changed from Beetle-lady to Beetle-woman.
But of course, Pauper Tort the Shell-man was as beautiful as a zebra or peacock and his wife, the great Brawler, was also as beautiful as a peacock. He was poor, and also his abnormal characters were the talk of the city and throughout the neighbouring countries, cities and villages.
Pauper and his wife, Brawler the Beetle-woman, had only two children. They could have had more than those two, but the poverty of Pauper and the hot brawls of his wife hindered them from having more than that.
Although Pauper and Brawler already had two children, Pauper’s nephew, who was called Alaafia, otherwise known as Peace, and Brawler’s niece, who was called Ayo, or Joy, lived with them for many years. But, as time went on, Brawler’s hot brawls tortured Peace and Joy so much that at last, when they could no longer tolerate the harmful effects of the brawls, they fled to one of the houses which were on the outskirts of the city, and there both of them lived peacefully and joyfully.
Yet, as for Brawler, the Beetle-woman, her everyday work began at daybreak, when she started to brawl hotly, and she would chase her husband about inside the house and around the premises to the front of the house. Thus she did round their property until midnight, or when she fell asleep suddenly in the night.
And further, to complete the testimony about Brawler, she also brawled horribly in her sleep and dreams. For all her abnormal behaviours, she had no time at all to do any work that could fetch her money. Worse still, all the other women in the city hated her extremely because of her horrible and continuous brawls.
But then the other people of the city remarked that only Pauper himself could live with Brawler, his wife, and that only Brawler herself could live with Pauper, her husband., because their abnormal characters were absolutely the same.
The people even further remarked in proverb that “Bottle and Demijohn are made from the same material – glass – yet both hate each other and scorn each other.” It was just the same for Pauper and his wife, the great Brawler. Pauper was the greatest talker and agitator who ever lived in the city, and it was so for his wife, who was the greatest Brawler who ever lived in the city! Thus the people assessed them.
Pauper Tort the Shell-man planted one cherry tree in front of the little house in which he, his wife, and his children lived. Pauper’s tree bore hundreds of cherries in a year and the cherries were of the best quality in the city. Though Pauper Tort was a lazy farmer, he used to go and work on his little farm occasionally. He would return to the house sometime in the evening with one very small yam, because each of his yams was small as an egg.
But the worst of it was that each time the yam was put in the fire to roast, Brawler’s continuous hot brawls and quarrels with her husband would not allow her to pay heed to the yam, and so it would burn into ashes. Then she, her husband and their two children would not eat that night. It was so that all of the family lived in great misery and quarrels.
But as time went on, their Creator saw their restless living. He was so sorry for them that one morning, He sent one of His messengers to them to ask them the kind of help that each of them wished Him to do for him or her.
Without hesitation, the messenger left for the city of Pauper and his wife. When he zigzagged to their door, he stopped and knocked at the door first. “Good morning to you all here!” the messenger greeted aloud.
“Good morning to you! Please come in!” Pauper replied with the voice of that of a pauper, as his wife was brawling hotly all about in the house.
“Yes, there is a very good message from the Creator for you and your wife, please!” The messenger entered and shouted cheerfully and politely as he stood in front of Pauper.
“A message from the Creator?” Pauper was shocked and moved back a bit.
“Certainly! A good message indeed!” the messenger confirmed.
“But who are you?” Pauper asked confusedly as his wife continued to brawl so hotly that her brawls did not allow her to pay heed to what her husband and the messenger were talking about.
“I am one of the Creator’s messengers!” the messenger introduced himself.
“Oh! Is that so? I see! But what is the message all about?” Pauper asked reluctantly with a pauper’s voice.
“Please ask your wife to come to us because the message concerns her as well!” the messenger said and hesitated.
“My Beetle-woman, the great Brawler, please come and listen to the Creator’s message!” Pauper shouted poorly on his wife.
“Yes, here I am! But what is the message?” Brawler continued brawling in front of the messenger and her husband.
“By the way, what are you brawling hotly like this for, young Beetle-woman?” The messenger was astonished, and then he folded his arms and hesitated.
“You see, my husband is a nuisance entirely. He is too cunning! He is a pilferer and a great pauper of our time!” Brawler brawled hotly with an absent mind.
“Is that all you are brawling for?” the messenger wondered.
“No! Not at all! He is my husband, who I know as well as I know my money. He is a villain, an expert liar, a deceiver, and all sorts of things that I cannot remember now! And . . . and . . . and for all his abnormal had characters, the other people of the city hate him!” the Brawler sighed and then she started brawling on another matter entirely.
“Hmmm! That means you and your husband have the same abnormal bad characters, for you are accusing him of abnormal bad characters and so he is accusing you too. So I take the two of you to be the bottle and the demijohn which are accusing each other. The bottle accuses the demijohn that it is made of glass, and the demijohn also accuses bottle that it is made of glass! But what is the difference between glass and glass?” the messenger explained in proverb to the Brawler.
“Yes, I admit that both ‘bottle’ and ‘demijohn’ are family!” the Brawler brawled.
“Good for you! S
o since your husband is a great talker and agitator, cunning and a villain, and you as well are a great brawler who grumbles about everything which is on earth, therefore both of you are family,” the messenger appeased the Brawler.
“All right, what do you wish the Creator to do for your husband, the Pauper?” the messenger asked calmly from the Brawler.
“Good! I wish the Creator to help me slay him!” the Brawler bellowed mercilessly, and then she was sullen. She was squinting at the messenger and her husband, Pauper.
“Is that your wish?” the messenger asked coolly.
“Exactly!” she confirmed hastily as her husband looked on speechless.
“Yes, Pauper, what do you wish the Creator to do for your wife, the great Brawler?” the messenger fastened his eyes on Pauper and asked politely.
“I am the greatest Pauper of this century and my wife’s brawls are the most peevish, and the only treasure which I have on earth is the cherry tree which is in front of the house. I do not wish my Creator to slay or harm anyone on earth. All I want to wish is that the Creator would give my voice a very effective command. So if a person crouches by my cherry tree, and if I command that he be stuck on to the tree, he will stick on to it immediately. Please, kind messenger, help me tell the Creator that, that only this power of command is what I wish Him to give my voice,” Pauper requested carefully as his wife continued to brawl hotly about in the house.
“Well, your own wish and your wife’s wish will be approved by the Creator as soon as I return to Him and deliver all to Him!” the messenger assured Pauper and his wife.
Then he walked zigzag outside and soon after he disappeared suddenly in a strong whirlwind which descended from the sky to the ground at that moment.
Then the messenger told the Creator the kind of help that Pauper and his wife, Brawler, wanted from Him as soon as he returned to Him. And the Creator commanded, “Let their wish be as they wish!”
And in fact, immediately the Creator approved Pauper’s wish and his wife’s wish. There was a strong effective command in his voice, so effective that everything he commanded with his voice came to pass immediately. As for his wife’s wish, the Creator agreed to send Death down to slay him for her.
One morning, Pauper was agitating bitterly about his wife’s behaviours, and his wife too was brawling hotly, and both of them were chasing each other fiercely about in the house for some time around the premises to the front of their house. Death suddenly appeared in their house.
Without hesitation, Death shouted horribly on them, “Eh! You stop there! This morning, Pauper, for your wife’s wish, I come to take your life away to the Creator!”
“Thank you, Death. I agree to be slayed for my wife, and I am ready to join my ancestors today! But I wish you to do me a favor first before you slay me!” Pauper said fearlessly.
“What kind of favor do you wish me to do for you?” Death shouted impatiently as Brawler, his wife, was then tiptoeing around them, despising her husband.
“Thank you Death!” Pauper said and pointed to his cherry tree. “Do you see that cherry-tree?”
“Yes, I see it in front of your house!” Death confirmed. “But make haste to surrender your life,” Death shouted horribly as he fastened his eyes on the tree.
“Good. That cherry tree is the only treasure I have on earth. So I wish you to allow me pluck just one cherry from the tree and eat it first before you slay me for my wife!” Pauper begged Death as his wife chuckled.
“Oh, well. Your request is quite simple. But go now and pluck the fruit and eat it at once!” Death shouted.
Then Pauper took one stool nearby and walked to his tree. He put the stool down at the foot of the tree and he climbed the stool. He pretended to outstretch himself so that his hand could reach one or two of the fruit. But, when his hand could not reach the fruit, he begged Death, whose arms were longer, to help him pluck it.
Fortunately, the strong effective command of his voice induced Death so much that he could not refuse, and so Death climbed the stool. Pauper stood a few meters away from his cherry tree, and as soon as Death outstretched his right hand to pluck the cherry, Pauper commanded aloud:
“Death, let the whole of you stick on to my cherry-tree!”
To Death’s and Brawler’s fear, Pauper had hardly commanded this when the body of Death stuck on to the tree like a bird stuck on to a very strong birdlime.
Now Death was powerless, and he started to beg Pauper to command his cherry tree to release him.
“No! Not until you swear that as from today and forever, you will not kill neither a pauper nor a brawler!” Pauper shouted mercilessly.
“Well, to abide by your request, I, Death, therefore swear that henceforth and forever, I shall not kill neither a pauper nor a brawler!” Death promised with fretfulness. “And if I attempt to do so,” he continued, “let the day change to night and let the darkness of the night swallow me up.”
Then Pauper commanded his cherry-tree to release Death, and he was released at once. Death feared Pauper so much this time that he disappeared suddenly without even thanking him.
When Pauper’s wife saw that Death had failed to slay her husband for her, she collapsed and fainted for a few minutes. Her husband, however, treated her until she was conscious. She had hardly become conscious when she stood up and then resumed her usual brawl. Because she was brawling hotly at her husband, Tort was agitating so deeply about his wife’s brawls that some hours later his wife started to bite him. When he felt the severe pain, he ran outside of the house for his life, but she followed him and continued to bite him. He started to run desperately to the outskirts of the city, and his wife was chasing him along the way to bite him again as she continued to brawl loudly. After a while, she chased him to the house in which Peace and Joy lived near the outskirt of the city.
Peace was the nephew of Pauper and Joy was the niece of Brawler. Both of them lived with Pauper and Brawler before for many years, but they left them with sadness because they could not live with a brawler or a quarrelsome or austere person.
But when Brawler chased her husband, Pauper, fiercely to where Peace and Joy lived, she shouted for help, “Please, Peace, help me bite my husband! Do this, I beg you!”
“No! I am Peace and I do only peaceful things!” Peace declined to help.
“Please, Joy, help me bite my husband!” Brawler waved her hands to Joy and begged impatiently.
“No! I do only joyful things!” Joy also protested.
Thus both Peace and Joy refused to help Brawler and instead hastily entered the house in which they lived with only peaceful and joyful people.
After a few minutes, Brawler chased her husband fiercely to the extreme end of the outskirts of the city, where there was a big river. Without hesitation, Pauper jumped fearlessly into that river. Brawler, having brawled a bit already, jumped fearlessly into that river as well. But as both of them were beating each other on the surface of the water, they drowned suddenly.
They continued to beat each other at the bottom of the river until they went unconscious. Within a few seconds, they found themselves standing awake together with Peace and Joy in front of a beautiful, strange, mighty building. The strange, mighty building had no doors or windows or even an exit, but there was a very strange, huge voice which was coming out of it. The voice was as strong as an echo.
At once this strong voice roared:
“Who are you standing there?”
“I am Pauper, whose surname is Tort and whose nickname is Shell-man, and I am the husband of the great Brawler!” Pauper thus introduced himself to the invisible enquirer.
“Thank you, Pauper Tort the Shell-man! But who is that woman standing there?” the invisible enquirer roared.
“I am Brawler, whose surname is Yanribo, and my nickname is Beetle-woman!” Pauper’s wife, Brawler, replied while trembling.
“The third person?” roared the invisible enquirer.
“My name is Peace!” Peace replied peacefull
y.
“Yes, the fourth person?” boomed the invisible enquirer.
“My name is Joy!” Joy replied joyfully.
“Yes, I know the name of every one of you now!” said the invisible enquirer. “Now as from today and forever,” continued the enquirer, “the four of you will exist everywhere on earth!” the enquirer roared. “But Joy and Peace will not be in a family in which there is a brawl or quarrel. And so, both of you will not live with a lazy person, or an idler, or he who shirks work, nor he who has no perseverance!
“And I command again that as from henceforth and forever, Pauper and the Brawler will never have peace and joy in their fold, but where Pauper, or poverty, is present, Brawler will be there with him. And where there is Brawler, Pauper will be there with her. And so, Pauper and Brawler will be chasing each other fiercely about forever. Now, I command the four of you to turn into four different kinds of spirits and roam about on earth. And let Pauper and Brawler go into the minds of those who are weak in their minds or who cannot control their minds or who have no strong determinations, to live in them and be influencing. them. But, let Peace and Joy go into the minds of those who are cheerful, thoughtful, passive, meek, patient and hard-working people! Goodbye!”
It was thus the invisible enquirer, who was the Creator who sent his messenger and Death to Pauper and his wife, commanded the four of them and they turned to four different kinds of spirits which could not be felt if they were touched. And the huge voice, the invisible enquirer, hardly stopped speaking when the four spirits flew all over the world.
So to this day, these four spirits still exist, and so brawls, quarrels, bloodshed, peevishness, etc., are the enemies of peace and joy.
A Few Words as Afterword to Amos Tutuola
by Matthew Cheney
Amos Tutuola was the first internationally famous black African writer of the modern age, but he was also, in the words of Oyekan Owomoyela, “undoubtedly one of the most controversial of African writers”.1 His reputation has fluctuated tremendously since the publication of his first book, The Palm-Wine Drinkard, in 1952 in England, where it received a laudatory review from the poet Dylan Thomas that helped bring extraordinary attention to it. Tutuola’s next book, My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, would go on to similar international fame, but his later books never matched the success of the first two, and he would die in 1997 without the awards, acclaim, influence, and wealth of the writers for whom he paved the way: Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Ben Okri, and so many others.
