—Swahili
4
Monkey Steals a Drum
This text comes from a performance by Mr. Adéghóyègún Fáàdójútìmí. It was collected by Deirdre LaPin and translated by Deirdre LaPin and Túndé Ayándókun.
Here is a story!
(Story it is)
Everyone be still and listen carefully to our story. Anybody who can sing the chorus needn’t make any extra noise.
My story breaks sharply, pa,
Don’t let it break its arms;
It breaks, whirs, and thuds, wárá gbí
Don’t let it break its neck;
It didn’t fall on my head!
It didn’t fall on my neck!
Nor did it fall on the bit of Rat
That I’ll eat before I sleep tonight!
Instead, it fell on the heads of the one hundred and fifty-six animals.
Now, one day a meeting was held and all the animals were told to come, every last one. Each was greeted, “Hello,” and asked about its affairs. Then all of them were instructed to peel off a piece of skin from their bodies, so that they could make drums for dancing and having a good time. Up to now, nobody had ever thought of such a thing, and they all agreed that their omission was most unfortunate. So each started to peel off its skin and make it into a drum, they made drums every last one.
Eventually, market day came—the day when their meeting was always held—and every one of them brought his drum. Well! Friends, were they happy! They beat out a dance rhythm and danced into the afternoon; they danced and danced and danced and danced.
You know, greed is a bad thing. Yes, sir. Leopard had never known anything like it before. He finished eating and friends, he had eaten so much that he threw everything up, góórògò. While he slept, excreta was flowing from his bowels. The like had never been known before, friends, he ate to his fill and went to sleep, stuffed.
Now, Colobus Monkey said that he couldn’t really peel off a piece of his skin for a drum; he was such a tiny little thing that if he took any skin from his body, what would there be left? Friends, Leopard was sleeping away there, and Monkey said to himself that here was a sure chance to have a drum of his own to beat. He stretched out his hand toward Leopard’s drum, picked it up, and set off down the road. He headed for home.
Well! Leopard woke up. “Where is it! I put my drum down right here, this is where I left it.” After searching all round for it, some people said, “Ha! We saw Monkey carrying a drum. He did not bring any of his own when he came to the meeting. Leopard, your drum must be with Monkey.” So he said, “Okay, I see,” and went home. He was so furious that his bowels rumbled and his heart was on fire. How was he going to catch Monkey? “Ha! I’ve never experienced a thing like this before, what’s the best way to go about this?” Market day came again, the day when they would hold their meeting. Well, just a little before cockcrow, Leopard got up and went to the three-way intersection in the town of Ajaloko and he swept the roadway absolutely clean. Ájànàkú sat down: His two eyes were blazing brightly. When day broke, all one-hundred-and-fifty-six animals came along to go to the meeting. Giant Rat woke up earliest, and was the first to come hopping along with his tail flying behind him, góógló góólo góólo. As soon as his eyes lit on The Warrior of Lagos—“Oh! Oh! Well! My goodness!” He prostrated himself before him and stretched out his hand, palm upward—“Ájànàkú, the One Who Wakes Up and Washes His Hands and Face Like a Muslim.” Friends, he beseeched him; “Kábiyésí, my Protecting God, I am innocent,” he said. Then he took up a song that went like this:
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
’Cause the dust here is still unstirred;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
They’ll eat meat, eat meat, more meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Well, Rat said he didn’t want to get mixed up in any trouble. He had gotten up early and ran straight into trouble. He turned around and scampered off.
Àjànákú sat back down on his haunches and waited. You see, he cleared the ground where they would fight. Ha! Yes, sir. I congratulate myself, He Who Tells Stories without Muffing the Job, Son of He with a Slender Neck. It’s not easy to work for a living. If somebody’s peeled some skin off his own body, he’s not going to let someone else get away with doing nothing, is he? Cutting Grass scampered by, yúghú yúghú yúghú yúghú. Àjànákúwas really terrifying. You know, his front teeth are red in color. Even if Olódùmarè himself passed by this Àjànàkú, his eyes would turn a deep, deep red. Ha! So he said, “Kábiyèsí, my Protecting God, I’m innocent.” You see, his anus had receded into his bowels—the anus he shit from—and he was anxiously rubbing his palms together. “Hey, what’s your trouble, Warrior?”
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
’Cause the dust here is still unstirred;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to a big-assed gal,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
They’ll eat meat, eat meat, more meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Nobody had the nerve to pass by that spot where he was cutting grass. He turned right around and bolted off. Well! He caused quite an uproar as he turned around and scampered off, fù, in a flash!
Now Duiker had waked up and was trotting, béléké béléké, along to the meeting. He was going to eat himself silly just as he had done eight days before. Whew! You see now he was bounding along at a fast clip, sobgá sobgá sobgá, his tail flying in the air behind him, when suddenly, right there in the middle of the road was Àjànàkú. Duiker spied him, Owner of the Black Locust Bean Farm, the One Who Drove the Household Head Up the Odán Tree and Chased the Elder into a Hole, the One Who Tore a Woman’s Child to Pieces. As soon as he looked into his face, he said, “What’s your trouble, Warrior?”
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
’Cause the dust here is still unstirred;
Yy I
rànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to a big-assed gal,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Which of them will have a chance to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
They’ll eat meat, eat meat, more meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
All of them will eat meat, eat meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
As soon as Duiker took a look at him, he said to himself, “Today is not the day for a yamfest and this is not a place where one should pass.” Duiker turned tail and dashed away so fast that he went nearly a mile in three bounds!
Deer was prancing along, jígolo jígolo jígolo, carrying a load of yam on top of his big horns. He was passing by in his swift and determined stride, ghàn ghàn ghàn, when suddenly he saw Owner of the Black Locust Bean Farm, and stopped instantly. “Kábiyésí, my Protecting God, what’s your trouble, Warrior?”
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
’Cause the dust here is still unstirred;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to a big-assed gal,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
They’ll eat meat, eat meat, more meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
You know, as soon as he finished his reply, Deer looked ahead, looked behind—and clattered away fast, ayá yá yà! As he was running, “Yay! Hai! Horror, horror, horror,” gídí gídí gídí, whoosh, so so. Ha! He knocked over an akika tree. He nearly fainted with hunger—he hadn’t really eaten for eight days. The situation was not good.
Buck came along, belly hanging from his belly. Poor Devil Who Swallows His Fruits Whole, he could be killed by a mouse. Olódùmaré, don’t let me be killed by a mouse! Now, when he looked into the face of Owner of the Black Locust Bean Farm—aiye! He stopped dead in his tracks, his legs splayed. He asked, “What’s your trouble, Warrior?”
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
’Cause the dust here is still unstirred;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to a big-assed gal,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
The European will eat meat, eat meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
When Buck took off he was like a grasshopper, ready to burst open in the fire. His head knocked against a tree and pulled the bark clean off, he was running so fast. Ajànákúkept his eyes shut as Buck ran.
He next saw Bush Cow coming along with his ponderous gait, gíirágwo gírágwo gírágwo. Olódùmaré, his great horns swung from side to side. When he got there, and saw Owner of the Black Locust Bean Farm, the One Who Chased the Elder into a Hole, the One Who Drove the Household Head Up the Odán Tree, Ajànákús two eyes were glowing. You know what a palm fruit is, that we use to make soup with on the farm, the thing we cut down and make oil from that is bright, bright red? Well, Owner of Black Locust Bean Farm had eyes like that—it was Leopard, mind you, not this Leopard. As soon as Bush Cow looked at him, “Horrors!” he said, “Ha! I’m innocent, innocent, Kábiyésí, my Protecting God. What’s your trouble, Warrior?”
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to a big-assed gal,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
They’ll eat meat, eat meat, more meat.”
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Oh, Olódùmarè, protect us from trouble as we are walking along. I Who Tell Stories without Muffing the Job, Son of He with a Slender Neck. Bush Cow started to run away. My Father! If he met a tree along the way, it would never be met again. He brewed up a storm! Olódùmaré keep us from trouble like that. He hightailed it away; he had expected a feast like the one eight days earlier—food like that could kill a person!
Just then, Elephant appeared, Laaye, Spirit of the Forest, Orísà with One Arm, Who Wakes and Bathes Himself in Dew. He trundled along, his ears flapping. As soon as he noticed Owner of the Black Locust Bean Farm—Ai! Well, now, he stopped in his tracks. He said, “What’s your trouble, Warrior?”
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your trouble, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
He said, “Everybody made a drum,
Yy Irànmatékòn
And Monkey took my drum away;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll set our eyes on him today,
Yy Irànmatékòn
’Cause the dust here is still unstirred;
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to an expectant mother,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll offer meat to a big-assed gal,
Yy Irànmatékòn
We’ll give meat to everyone!
Yy Irànmatékòn
You’ll come and eat and eat and eat.
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Hey, don’t you want to eat?
Yy Irànmatékòn
They’ll eat meat, eat meat, more meat!’
Yy Irànmatékòn
What’s your troub
le, Warrior?
Yy Irànmatékòn
Laaye turned round, saying he hoped he would never see anything like that again in his life! It didn’t matter whether he ate or not. So he walked off, and his path made a roadway that is used up until today. It has become the model for all roads ever since—big wide streets of today. But his was more shiny and bare than any highway. Yes sir! Olódúmarè! May no one hear a false tale from my mouth. Since when have I been telling lies? I’m telling the truth today. You know, the mouse I put in the hearth yesterday was eaten up by a melon!
Just then, Monkey came scampering along, gl gl gl, his tail flying behind him and his drum slung around his neck. He got to the same spot and saw the Warrior of Lagos. Ai! May I not be confronted by problems early in the morning.
Didn’t he jump into the trees? He didn’t climb into the trees because monkeys in those days walked on the ground. As soon as he set eyes on Owner of the Black Locust Bean Farm, the One Who Drove the Household Head Up to the Top of the Odán Tree, Who Chased the Elder into a Hole, the One Who Tears a Woman’s Child to Pieces, my father! His two eyes—the jig was up. As soon as he spied Monkey things really got hot. Olódùmarè, don’t let me experience a thing like that! Have you ever seen a cat’s tail when he’s chasing a lizard outdoors? His tail was twitching from side to side, pn pn pn. Olódùmarè, his tail was stuck straight out. He said, “Kabiyesi, Kabiyesi, my Protecting God.” You know that in the past Monkey’s hands were just like a human’s. He rubbed them together anxiously, “Kabiyesi. What’s your trouble, Warrior?”
African Folktales (The Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 8
