by Yaba Badoe
Grabbing hold of him by the wrists, the golden eagle carried Musa across the African continent, casting a dark shadow as she flew over the desert. When she reached an expanse of water, she circled until her eagle eyes saw the Purple Lake below. Then, from hundreds of feet up in the sky, she cast Musa into the sea.
Musa turned and twisted, somersaulting, convinced that his life was over. He turned and, as he flipped over a third time, he dropped the red amulet. He tumbled through dark clouds, hurtling down to the sea. As soon as he touched the water, he turned into the Fish-man: a monstrous creature with human arms and legs, and the body and head of a fish.
Musa languished in his watery prison beside the Purple Lake. He was grateful, to begin with, that his life had been spared. But as the lake snarled and snapped at him like a bad tempered dog, he grew lonely and yearned for friendship. And yet if anything – be it a smiling dolphin, a porpoise, or a laughing clownfish – came close to the lake, Musa’s friendly nature became possessed by a warrior spirit and he became the Fish-man. And then, waving the sword of shark’s teeth, he chased everything away; even though deep in his heart what he wanted most in the world was a friend.
Day after day he wept into the lake, which spat back at him angrily. ‘If only I had known how hollow the life of a warrior can be,’ he cried. ‘If I had known, I would have been content as a storyteller. No one told me it would be so lonely fighting everything in sight.’
What’s more, remembering his love for the kora, Musa tried to make one out of reeds and conch shells. But his hands, hardened by wielding the sword, broke the strings and he wept more bitterly.
At last the day came when Ajuba, the fisherman’s daughter, swam over the lake with her friend, Whale. She dropped a whale’s carbuncle into the Purple Lake to find the path to where her father lay buried by the sea.
A hissing serpent sprang from the lake. Musa, who was fast asleep, was woken up by the serpent’s voice. Ajuba was the first human he had seen during his life as the Fish-man. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to hear the latest news of the land of men. But just as soon as this desire for friendship welled up within him, the warrior spirit possessed him again and, wielding the sword of a thousand shark’s teeth, he chased Ajuba and Whale away.
Musa returned to the lake crying. He was so distressed that he lifted his sword over his head and threw it into the Purple Lake. Then he knelt down, begging the gods to take pity on him. The hissing serpent reared up again, swaying from side to side.
‘Go home, Musa,’ she said. ‘You have served your time. Go back home.’
‘But how can I return?’ he asked.
‘Swim to the surface. The Bird-woman is waiting up there to take you home again.’
Musa did as he was told. The moment he breathed air again, his true nature returned to him and his fish-body fell away. He was Musa, a handsome young man once again, and circling above him was Romilly the golden eagle. She hauled Musa up in to the sky and then carried him back to his father’s village.
No one could believe their eyes when they saw Musa walking through the compound gates. They had given him up for dead. Musa’s mother threw her arms around him, delighted he was home again. And his father, now a very old man, ordered a cow to be killed in thanks for his son’s return.
The family celebrated for three days and on the fourth day Musa’s great-uncle arrived, laden with gifts. He brought cattle and goats and fabulous cloths for Musa’s mother and father. Most important of all, he gave the young man a new kora so that he could return to storytelling.
Musa lived to be an old man and, just as Nana had foretold with the cowry shells, he became a famous storyteller and a master kora player. One of his most popular stories is the tale of the Fish-man, which he claims is a true story. No one believes him, except for his wife Binta. Only she knows that whenever Musa washes in the sea, tiny silver fish scales appear on his back. Thankfully, they live a long way from the sea.
Acknowledgements
My thanks go to my grandmother, Mame Soma, whose skill as a storyteller instilled in me a love of her craft. My thanks also to Julie and Norman Gibson, who introduced me to the beautiful islands of Orkney, and Helen Hake, the first reader of The Fisherman’s Daughter. Finally, a huge thank you to Bibi Bakare-Yusuf of Cassava Republic, whose perseverance and commitment brought this collection of stories to life.
Copyright
First published in 2017 by Cassava Republic Press
Abuja – London
Copyright © Yaba Badoe 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transported in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher of this book.
The moral right of Yaba Badoe to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Nigeria and the British Library.
ISBN (Nigeria) 978–978–55177–0–5
ISBN (UK) 978–1–911115–31–1
eISBN 978–1–911115–32–8
Printed and bound in Great Britain by Bell & Bain Ltd., Glasgow.
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