“Hale!” “Halele!”
Once upon a time there were two companions who cleared a field together in Bambao. One was thought to be clever: he had a quick tongue and a head for figures. The other was thought to be a fool: he always said yes and never counted anything. They agreed to share everything the land would give them.
“I am generous,” said the trickster: “you choose. The top of the plants or the bottom?” “The top,” replied the fool. The trickster planted cassava, delighted to keep the roots. But the fool picked the leaves, pounded them and cooked them in coconut milk: his mataba were so good that the whole market fought over them, while the trickster's roots, far too many of them, sold for next to nothing.
“This time, I'll take the top!” the trickster decided the following season, and he sowed maize. The fool inherited the dry stalks and leaves, which he gave to a skinny cow bought for almost nothing. The cow grew fat and began to give milk.
The jealous trickster demanded his share. “The cow belongs to both of us: I'll take the back end, the one that gives the milk; you take the front.” The fool agreed and went on feeding the head. But every time the trickster crouched down to milk, the fool, who liked to talk to his half of the cow, scratched its muzzle: the animal kicked, knocked over the bucket and sent the trickster rolling in the dust.
After a week, the trickster had bruised ribs and not a drop of milk. “Take the whole of it back,” he sighed. And the fool, who still could not count, shared his milk with the whole neighbourhood.
Whoever digs a trap for a companion often ends up falling into it: innocence is worth more than greedy cunning.
What we know about it
The pairing of the trickster and the simpleton is one of the most widespread in the tales of the Indian Ocean and of the whole world. The sharing of the harvest, “the top or the bottom”, is an episode that folklorists find on every continent (the “division of the crop” type, ATU 1030). On Ngazidja, the cassava leaves become mataba, a festive dish cooked in coconut milk.
This tale was reported to us as having been collected in Bambao by Ahmed Ali Mroimana and Mohamed Ahmed-Chamanga for their Contes comoriens de Ngazidja (1999). We have not been able to consult that collection to check their text: the version given here follows the most common outline of the tale, in our own words.
Further reading
- Voices of the archipelago Ahmed Ali Mroimana et Mohamed Ahmed-Chamanga, Contes comoriens de Ngazidja. Au-delà des mers, 1999. L'Harmattan, Archipel des Comores series.
- Voices of the archipelago Marie-Françoise Rombi et Mohamed Ahmed-Chamanga, Contes comoriens, 1980. Conseil international de la langue française / Edicef.