How's it going?
I've always loved folk tales because they always leave you with slightly more wisdom. Most African stories have an oral tradition, but it is important to write them down and also translate them. That's what I was trying to do with The Turtle's Strategy.
It's based on a story from Benin Republic. A modified version of the original. I'd like to think I modernized it a bit. Hope you like it.
Not a single fly could ever be heard buzzing in the streets of the village at twelve noon. They would converge to the pig’s large hut and seat calmly, waiting to be served a bowl of hot egusi soup. The other animals were also there, chatting, neighing, and roaring with laughter as the smell that emanated from the pig’s big sturdy cauldrons wafted to their nostrils and made them salivate. As soon as the lunch was served, everyone got to eating, and went on till their plates were empty. They then licked the plates for good measure; when they were done, the banana leaf plates were so clean you’d think they had just been washed.
Once satisfied, they would gleefully pay their 5 cowries and head out. The quality of the food even convinced the flies, who usually preferred eating others’ crumbs so as to not spend any money, to actually get a table and order like every one else. Every single animal was happy to pay. Everyone except the turtle.
The turtle was an interesting character. Although he’d always believed the pig was beneath him and dimwitted, the pig’s cuisine was too good to pass up. Still, he hated paying 5 cowries everyday, and came up with a simple plan:
- Befriend the pig
- Convince the pig to accept 1 cowry per meal instead of the customary 5
- Slowly push his way into eating on credit.
His plan had worked. He had gotten to stage 3 and would usually pay a week or two after eating. He was quite proud of that. He was in fact so proud that he began bragging, telling others that he ate on credit and they were stupid for spending money every day. He always had the best table in the restaurant, because he had convinced his friend the pig to reserve him a table for life. No matter the time at which he arrived, he always had a seat waiting. This angered the other animals, who would leave their market stalls and farms at 11:45 and walk to the pig’s hut only to discover that there was no more space and they would have to wait outside or sit on the ground to eat.
One day, the turtle decided that he would stop paying his credit. That is he stopped payments altogether. He thought to himself, why do I even pay anything? Surely I can convince that stupid pig to let me eat for free. He was a bit drunk, off some palm wine, so he started shouting aloud:
“You see, you useless people? I can enjoy all the egusi soup I want every day for free. And what of you? You still have to pay? Useless animals.”
That day, the pig had blamed that reaction on the palm wine. But for the next 2 months, the turtle did not pay for the food he ate. At first, the pig would ask politely for his due.
“I hope you enjoyed the meal, dear friend,” he would say.
“Oh yes, oh yes,” the turtle would reply. “Your egusi soup is as sweet as ever.”
“Well, I hope it was good enough for you to pay me today. “
“Tomorrow I’ll certainly come with your money, God willing.”
“Are you sure?“
The turtle would then always answer, “As sure as my shell is smooth, shiny, and without wrinkles,” and walk out briskly.
Of course, three months later, the turtle had still not paid and the pig was getting very angry. His anger had festered to the point that the pig began wishing bad luck on the turtle. Then his anger built and built and built until one day he burst.
“I’ve waited for too long; you have to pay me. Go home and come back with my money or never set foot in my hut again.”
“But, my friend…”
“I said, OUT!”
“It’s understood, it’s understood, tomorrow you can come to my house at 8. Your money will be ready.”
The next day, the pig got up at 7:30, left his house and headed for the hill on top of which the turtle’s house was nested, right beyond the edge of the forest. The turtle and his wife had woken up earlier and had been waiting. The wife had painted her husband’s shell so that it looked like a stone and as soon as the turtle saw the pig coming, he curled up his head, limbs, and tail to hide. He looked like a grinding stone.
Immediately, his wife poured corn on his back and began to crush the grains on the “stone” as if on a grinding wheel. When the pig got to the top of the hill, breathing heavily, he approached and greeted her. She did not answer. He greeted her again, and again she ignored him, rolling her eyes.
“Are you not hearing me?” The pig, thinking that this attitude was still a way imagined by the turtle to not pay him, got angry, grabbed her grinding stone and threw it down the hill and into the forest below.
Scared but not wanting to give away her husband, she immediately shouted out:
“What the hell are you doing yelling? Am I your child? And my money was hidden in the stone you just threw! What have you done? How am I supposed to buy food today? How are we even supposed to pay you now? I will never find it in the bush. You have to go and get that stone! Then I’ll give you what my husband owes you.”
Gullible, the pig started going down the hill to look for the stone. Meanwhile, the turtle, wounded, had managed to walk away. His shell had protected him, but it had shattered into multiple pieces during the fall.
The pig, unable to find the stone went to ask some family members for help. The forest was vast and he could not even remember where he had thrown the stone. The whole family and neighbors searched everywhere, turning over all the stones till dusk and asking him each time if it was the one he was looking for.
Of course, they never found Mr. Turtle, who had slowly walked to the opposite side of the hill and climbed up to hide in his house. There, his wife had glued his shell back, but it was now a patchwork. It would never be as smooth and shiny as it had once been. Since that day the turtle always walks slowly, looking around to be sure he doesn’t run into the pig, and always pays his dues.
The pig, on his side, has always kept looking for the turtle and sticks its snout in all nooks and crannies he can find, even mud, to find the stone that holds the money he is owed.