Communiversity

 
Once upon a time, Kwaku Ananse the spider man lived with his wife and family in a little village. Ananse decided to make a farm with his family. They found a very big fertile (piece of) land and started clearing it. It took some time to finish clearing the land. Then they started planting. In no time the farm became so big. Harvest time came and Ananse started harvesting some of the crops with his family. He wasn't at all happy because of his greedy nature. He thought and thought and thought of how to get everything for himself. For days and weeks he kept thinking. Then one day an idea occurred to him. He decided to die. So he intentionally fell ill and told his wife, "Aso, you know I am very sick, I don't want to live any longer, very soon I shall die."
 Ananse's wife and children were very much disturbed and started weeping. "Oh father please don't die, please don't. Ananse lay in pains rolling from one end of the bed to the other. He called his wife and children to his bedside and said to them. "Do not weep, Onyankopɔn will take care of you after I am gone. When I die you should not weep."
 He then instructed his wife and children that when he dies, they should bury him in the middle of his farm. They should make sure to put in the coffin a lot of cooking utensils. He also told them not to cover the coffin and the grave, "You should put on the grave a cover." As soon as Ananse had given his instructions he died the following day.  
 His family mourned him and did just as Ananse instructed them to do. They bought a coffin (and) put Ananse's body inside. Then they put in the coffin some cooking utensils and went to bury him in the middle of his farm. They didn't cover the grave just like he had instructed them to do.  
 In the night, around midnight, Ananse got up and started singing and dancing and clapping his hands happily. He harvested some of the crops and made himself a delicious meal. After he had eaten, he cleaned up everything and went to sleep in his coffin again.  
 Early the next morning, Ananse's wife and children went to the farm. They found some crops harvested. They didn't know who did it. This continued for some time. Each day some of the crops were harvested. So Ananse's wife went to see a diviner and told him all that had been happening. The diviner made her a statue and told her to put tar on it and put it in the middle of the farm. Aso did as she was told. She put tar all over the statue and put it in the middle of the farm and went home.  
 In the night, Ananse got up and started singing and dancing but he quickly stopped. He saw the statue of tar and thought it was a human being. He shouted, "Hey you, what are you doing on my farm?" There was no answer. He asked again angrily. "I said what are you doing on my farm? If you don't get off my farm I will give you a big slap." Again there was no answer. So he slapped the statue with his right hand, but his hand got stuck. He screamed "leave me, leave me! If you don't leave me I will slap you with my left hand, which is much heavier and more powerful. He slapped the statue with his left hand and that too got stuck. Ananse was beginning to get into trouble. He said again to the statue, "If you don't leave my hands I will hit you with my stomach." So again he hit the statue with his stomach and his stomach got stuck too. He was extremely angry now. He hit with his head with all his might and his head got stuck too. Ananse was in trouble now. He struggled and struggled with all his might to free himself but it was useless. He began to beg the statue, "I will give you all the money in the world if you free me, please, and I will build a house for you. I will let you take all the crops if you leave me. Please I beg you! Oh please let me go."
 Dawn was approaching and Ananse started shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was terribly afraid, but there was nothing he could do to free himself from the statue of tar.  
 Early in the morning Ananse's wife and children came to the farm and saw somebody glued to the statue of tar. They rushed near and to their amazement, they saw Ananse glued to the statue of tar. They couldn't believe their eyes. Ananse became ashamed. They tried to set him free but they couldn't. So they went and called the diviner to free Ananse from the statue of tar. The diviner also couldn't free him. So he went off and came back with a cutlass. He had to cut pieces of Ananse's body before they could set him free. They had to replace the body parts that were cut off with something else. That is why the spider has tiny legs.  
 Our elders say that in this world, one who thinks that he is a lot wiser than all the others turns out to be the most foolish and will have a lot of problems to worry about. (Hutchinson, 10)
   
Once upon a time, the rain didn't fall. All of the small rivers dried up and even the large ones were reduced to a trickle. All of them were filled with mud and were not drinkable.  
 Water was scarce on the earth; water was scarce in the heavens. The animals of Ìjàpá's town weren't able to obtain water to drink. As their children died, their wives would eat them without finding water to drink with them. The crops didn't do well any more. There was no water for them to drink. Drought and famine arrived and many were dying every day.  
 After a while, the king beat the gongs calling his council to think up an idea that would help them. All of the troubles that had arrived had affected them, as there was no water. If there were water, they would be able to find food. If water were around in abundance, they would be able to irrigate their crops so that food would be there for them to eat. What could they do to find water? All of the rivers had dried up and the rains didn't fall. In a little while, someone presented the consideration that it would be useful for them to have a well so that they could get water from it. They wouldn't have to worry about scarcity of water anymore. They accepted this proposal and decided on a date that all of them would dig the well from which all of the animals could drink. They said, "The rats of the house should tell those of the countryside and those of the countryside should tell those of the house. In seven days, all heads should be accounted for in order to dig the well. Anyone not present wouldn't be allowed to drink from the well. Additionally, anyone who tried to steal from the well would be killed." The king had this message beaten on the gongs all around the town.
 When the day arrived, owners of hoes brought hoes, owners of cutlasses brought cutlasses, owners of shovels brought shovels; the women brought containers and carrying pads. All of them prepared themselves to go to the place where they would dig the well. Even the king went there sitting in his chair as his umbrella carrier held the sun-umbrella over his head. He greeted those who were working, encouraging them. Both men and women were inspired to work harder. As soon as the men dug up the earth, the women carried the dirt away. There were no slackers and everyone was working hard, sweating to the point that it seemed that they had just bathed in a river.  
 In a little while, the deer noticed that Ìjàpá wasn't there at the place of work; he got up on his tiptoes, stretching his neck and looking all around. He didn't see Ìjàpá all the same. He told the zebra that he didn't see Ìjàpá there. Zebra also looked all around. They went to the antelope, asking him to walk around at the place of work to see if the tortoise was there. Antelope could run swiftly and his feet were so small that no one would hear the sound of his hooves. Antelope ran sógà sógà sógà (was sound that it made), but didn't see Ìjàpá. He went to tell Zebra and Deer and all three of them went to tell the king. They told him that Ìjàpá shirked the authority of the king by not coming to the well-digging place.
 The king called some messengers and sent them to Ìjàpá's house. When they saw him, he was wrapped in a cloth and sitting in a chair in front of his house. His legs were crossed as he was whistling and singing and swaying his foot back and forth pe pe pe pe. The king's messengers relayed the message to him. The tortoise said that he didn't have time to do any such work. When they finish digging the well, they should carry the water from inside of it. There was nothing that he would have to do with well water; he wouldn't drink it. The messengers went back and relayed Ìjàpá's words to the king. The king then called his councilors to think of what they should do about Ìjàpá. The councilors decided that when they were finished with the well and have water, that they wouldn't let Ìjàpá get any water from it. Even if he brought money, they wouldn't sell it to him.
 When they were finished digging the well, they reached water; the water's source was from a large boulder inside the earth down there. The well was very deep because of the many days that had passed since it had rained. But the water there was extremely pure, cool, and plentiful. Each one took some to drink, to bathe, and to go home to cook food. They took some for their children and elders to drink. Everyone relaxed. They decided to choose a different person to guard the water everyday. The issue of Ìjàpá was a difficult one, for they may think that he wouldn't come to steal the water, but he might regardless. But if a guard was there, he or she could capture any thief who wanted to steal away with the water. They would then punish that person. They chose the cat to guard the well until sunrise. Cat went to hide and guard the well.
 As for Ìjàpá, he was a freeloader. He couldn't work because he didn't like to work. Still, he wanted to eat more than the one who actually did work. He knew that the animals wouldn't forego choosing someone to guard the well because of him. He also however was prepared for this eventuality. He had to be as thirst was drying him and there was no other source of water in the area. He came up with an idea of how to steal the water; he would scare anyone who that had chosen to be there.
 Ìjàpá went looking for a lot of snail shells, empty cans, and broken calabashes. He attached them to ropes and attached them all over his body from the foot up to the waist. He did the same for his children and wife. They all carried huge water gourds under their arms. His children had drums in hand. They sang and beat the drums in the middle of the night as they were on the road to the animals' well. All of the snail shells, cans and broken calabashes that they had attached to their bodies were making a racket as they were going. They sang:
 
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Érin l'óko,                  (If I meet an elephant on the farm)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Éfòn l'ódò,                  (If I meet a bush-cow at the river)
 Kàndù.
 Ma y'apá kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip out an arm and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma ya 'tan kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip off a thigh and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'po té,                  (I'll slam it into palm oil 'té')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi kan yò sín-ún,                     (I'll thrust it into salt 'sín-ún')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'mi pò-ó,                   (I'll slam it into water, 'pò-ó')
 Kàndù.
 Ma sọ ó s'énu kóló,                  (I'll throw in into the mouth 'kóló')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi í s'énu múlá,                  (I'll put it into the mouth 'mula')
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
 Kàndù.
 
When the cat heard the sounds of the feet of Ìjàpá and his children in the middle of the night and heard the jingling of the snail shells and the sounds of the broken calabashes, he didn't even listen to the song they were singing, he just busted out into a sprint! He ran away completely. He went and told the king that he wasn't able to catch the thief who came to their river. But it was clear to his that it wasn't Ìjàpá. It was those spirits of the sky who were longing for water and he wasn't willing to wait around for those spirits of the sky at all.
 
Ìjàpá carried off the water for his wife and his children. He went back to his house. He said "Those pathetic beggars; those lazy bums with physical strength but who lack the ability to think. I'll get more of this water than anyone else. Wisdom is there; wisdom is greater than physical strength." Ìjàpá started to use the water frivolously, using it to wash, to drink, to wash clothes and to wash the floor. When the water finished, he put on his costume, then he and his family got up. It was off to the well of those animals. The animals came together in council. They chose Deer to catch that thief who was stealing their water. The deer was large and had more strength than Cat had. Deer arrived at the well and hid in a small grove nearby. Ìjàpá was coming with his bells that he had stuck to his body. He and his children were beating (the drums) and singing. They were stomping the ground, singing:
 
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Érin l'óko,                  (If I meet an elephant on the farm)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Éfòn l'ódò,                  (If I meet a bush-cow at the river)
 Kàndù.
 Ma y'apá kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip out an arm and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma ya 'tan kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip off a thigh and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'po té,                  (I'll slam it into palm oil 'té')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi kan yò sín-ún,                     (I'll thrust it into salt 'sín-ún')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'mi pò-ó,                   (I'll slam it into water, 'pò-ó')
 Kàndù.
 Ma sọ ó s'énu kóló,                  (I'll throw in into the mouth 'kóló')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi í s'énu múlá,                  (I'll put it into the mouth 'mula')
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
       Kàndù.
 
When the deer heard the noise of the snail shells, cans and broken calabashes that were striking each other, he raised his ears, lengthened his neck, and looked all around. He didn't see a rat, he didn't see a bird; he just heard those fearful sounds. He was terrified as he listened to the song that they were singing. He realized that the thing was coming was saying that whether he met an elephant or a bush cow at the river, he would rip it apart and eat it. What was he the deer who didn't compare to the elephant in hand size and wasn't close to the bush cow in foot size. He should run for his very life: gìrìsà gìrìsà gìrìsà (was the sound that his running made). He reported to the animals that he wasn't able to arrest the thing that was coming.
Ìjàpá, meanwhile carried away water. He and his wife bathed three times a day; his children used a bucket of water to wash the breakfast plate, two (buckets) in the evening, and two at night. You realize that something that you don't suffer for doesn't last 'til night. Medicine that you don't pay for is put behind the cooking stones. Ìjàpá didn't help them to dig the well and didn't really understand the worth of the water. He used it like it was rainwater.  
 The animals came together at the palace of the king. They decided that the bush cow himself should go to arrest the crook that was stealing their water. Bush Cow accepted saying "I'll go. I'm a man! I have muscles in my body and energy in my belly. If someone encounters just my powerful horns here, who could withstand them? I won't even have to come close to him or her before I do harm. Even the mucous in my nose burns like fire. If it touches someone, the next meeting will be in the other realm." This is what Bush Cow promised as he prepared to go to the well. He arrived and guarded the road.  
 Ìjàpá used up all of his water. When it was midnight of the next day, he got up again and attached the snail shells and cans, picked up the drums, gathered up the giant water gourds and placed them on the heads of his children. They headed straight for the well. They sang:
 
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Érin l'óko,                  (If I meet an elephant on the farm)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Éfòn l'ódò,                  (If I meet a bush-cow at the river)
 Kàndù.
 Ma y'apá kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip out an arm and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma ya 'tan kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip off a thigh and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'po té,                  (I'll slam it into palm oil 'té')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi kan yò sín-ún,                     (I'll thrust it into salt 'sín-ún')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'mi pò-ó,                   (I'll slam it into water, 'pò-ó')
 Kàndù.
 Ma sọ ó s'énu kóló,                  (I'll throw in into the mouth 'kóló')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi í s'énu múlá,                  (I'll put it into the mouth 'mula')
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
 
When Bush Cow heard the jingling of the snail shells and heard the clanging of the broken calabashes and cans, he was terrified. The worst part was that the thing called his very own name. How did it know that it was he the bush cow who was guarding the road so that it called his name? Without a doubt, this was not the tortoise, but a spirit of the sky. He couldn't die a death assuming that Ọlórun determined it was his time to go. He had a wife and children at home. If a bandit wanted to steal the water, let him steal it; for he wouldn't be able to take all of it to the point that the well would dry up. A person whose head is used to break open a coconut doesn't get a chance to eat from it. Bush Cow used his feet to finish talking, gbururururu (was the sound that his running made), as he ran to the other animals. He gathered himself and reported what he experienced. He also said that his strength didn't catch that strange thief.
 The situation was becoming difficult and the animals didn't know what to do about the issue. They called the mighty elephant saying "Elder, The Lone Baobab Tree Whose Shadow Spreads Like the Coconut Tree, Lone Mammoth Who Shakes the Whole Forest. It's your turn o! It's the turn of the elder, you who are up to the task. It is you who can help us catch this hooligan."
 Elephant accepted, saying "okay." He prepared himself and left. When it reached midnight Ìjàpá prepared as he had been doing, beating drums and dancing. When Elephant heard, he dashed off galloping. Trees smashed against trees as he was going gìdìmò, gìdìmò, gìdìmò, cutting a path as he was going. Plants that he trampled would never raise their heads again. Vines and creepers that got in his way would never trip up another person again; Trees that got in his way would sprout up again in the spirit realm. When even Elephant couldn't catch the criminal, the animals got fed up. They had reached their wits' end. They looked at each other silently. That was it. Even the king's head hung down as he deliberated over the issue.
After a while, Leopard, who was third in command to the king, came up an idea that they should consult Òsanyìn, The Owner of Seven Legs (a particular divinity). As the father of all medicinal plants, he would know what to do about that criminal. The king sent a messenger from the council of elders to go to Òsanyìn. Òsanyìn chose a sacrifice for them to do. The sticky substance of the shea-butter tree and clay were to be added to this sacrifice that Òsanyìn would use to catch Ìjàpá. Òsanyìn made the sacrifice and made a statue. He took the clay and molded it to look just like a person. He took the sticky shea-tree putty and covered the statue with it. He carried it to the well and then went home. The animals then went to go sleep.
 When it was midnight, Ìjàpá got up and grabbed his water pitcher. He and his children picked up their drums. His wife got her large water gourd following after them. They were singing as they went:
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Gbágbárá gbogboro wò-ó,            (Sounds of the broken calabashes dragging)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Érin l'óko,                  (If I meet an elephant on the farm)
 Kàndù.
 Bí mo b'Éfòn l'ódò,                  (If I meet a bush-cow at the river)
 Kàndù.
 Ma y'apá kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip out an arm and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma ya 'tan kan fè-é,                  (I'll rip off a thigh and rip it open)
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'po té,                  (I'll slam it into palm oil 'té')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi kan yò sín-ún,                     (I'll thrust it into salt 'sín-ún')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi na 'mi pò-ó,                   (I'll slam it into water, 'pò-ó')
 Kàndù.
 Ma sọ ó s'énu kóló,                  (I'll throw in into the mouth 'kóló')
 Kàndù.
 Ma fi í s'énu múlá,                  (I'll put it into the mouth 'mula')
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
 Kàndù.
 Múlá mùlà múlá,                  (Sounds made as I put them in my mouth)
       Kàndù.
When Ìjàpá arrived at the well, his mouth was torn open in surprise almost to the point of reaching the back of his head when he came across the statue there who was standing firm like a warrior. He was so scared that he nearly went into the ground, but he acted bravely. He planted his feet firmly. He made noise, and sang loudly. He threatened the statue looking directly it directly in the eye. He cursed at it. He thought that it was a person and didn't know that it was just a statue. When he saw that this man didn't move a muscle, he got close to it saying, "You little man, as though you've never seen an elephant and don't know how an elephant behaves. If you don't know the season, you don't eat stew with salt. If you don't know the tortoise, you don't know the sound of my voice. Turn around and get out of my way 'cause I want to draw water. Hop to it! And don't delay! I'm in a hurry.
The statue didn't move a muscle and didn't say a word. After all, can clay talk? The tortoise got angry and screamed with all of his might saying, "You little brainless man like someone who would try to use a spear to rob a house. I gave you an order to get away from around this well because I want to draw water. You'd better be gone before I open my eyes that I'm about to close. That is, if you don't want to be like the maggot in the midst of salt, or like black in the middle of shea butter. If you don't want the ground to be taller than you!
 The statue didn't move a foot and didn't turn around. It stood firm like a soldier, looking straight forward. Ìjàpá was furious. He got close to the statue saying, "If you don't get out of here, I'll teach you some sense: that lack of respect kills people" All of the sudden pò-ó! He slapped the statue on the ears! His hand got stuck to its ear. He pulled it but wasn't able to free himself. He said, "Let my hand go! If you don't let my hand go, I'll slap you with my left. Or don't you know that my left hand is bitterer than my right? It'll be a knockout blow...just try me!" All of the sudden, pà-á! He used his left hand to backslap the left ear of the statue and that one also stuck to it.
"Hà, you clown, I'll kick you, you lunatic; you'll be laid out now..." All of the sudden pè-é! He kicked the statue with his left foot and his foot got stuck. He wasn't able to free it again.
 "I'm still just playing with you. This, my left foot is the foot of my mother. If I kick you with it, you'll go flying down into the well..." Pà-á! He used his left foot to kick the statue again and wasn't able to free it anymore.
 And what of my head-butt? Can you withstand it? If I head-butt you, your head will burst into pieces..." i-i-gbò-ó, he used his head to butt the head of the statue. He wasn't able to free it anymore as it was stuck to the head of the statue.
 "Even if you've grabbed my hands, feet and head, what of my big stomach? If I belly bump you, your stomach will ache until it kills you..." All of the sudden, pè-é! He bumped the statue's belly and it stuck completely. His strength was gone and he became frightened. All of his children and his wife used their feet to speak as they ran away towards home.
 This is how Ìjàpá got stuck to the statue like someone who had touched a live power line. His eyes were blinking like a criminal who had handcuffs placed on him. Thoughts came into his head that was drooping down like ripe bananas. Regret came to him and tried to start crying but was unable to. He looked back (as best as he could) and didn't see his children or his wife. All of them left him and his character to their fate. When he saw that the road that he was traveling implicated him, he resigned himself to his fate. When the sun rose, the king sent messenger to check the well to see if they had caught the crook that had been troubling them for so long. When they got there, they saw Ìjàpá who had been stuck to the statue for a while.  
 "Ìjàpá, is this your face? So it was you who has been carrying on like this for all of this time! All of the days belong to the thief, but one day belongs to the owner. The light has cast on you in your secret activities today. Turn into a hawk and fly away so that we can see what else you can do! Thief! Thief! The commotion of the town! A hand has captured you today, so off to see our king."
 They pulled Ìjàpá off of the statue grabbing his back and carried him to the king. The king had the gongs beat saying that the criminal who had disturbed their rest for so long had been arrested. Everyone should come to see his face.
 In a second everyone arrived. "Hèn-én! It's Ìjàpá! It's Ìjàpá! It's Ìjàpá! The king should kill him. The workers are in the sun and the one who will eat is in the shade. We weren't working for Ìjàpá to get fat. He didn't care about the king or any of us when we were out digging the well. He shirked the authority of the king! He should be killed.
 The king called Òsanyìn and thanked him for the assistance that he gave the town in catching Ìjàpá the criminal. "There's nothing that we can do other than give him to you, that you may do with him whatever you heart desires. He shouldn't be allowed to trouble us again. If you want to kill him or have him serve you, he, his wife and his children are yours. Take him away and go take his children and his wife as well. They are yours from this day forward. Thank you.
 This is how Ìjàpá finished his life. Òsanyìn killed and ate him. He also took his wife and children as servants. Since that day, all of the descendants of Ìjàpá have been servants to Òsanyìn.  
This story teaches us that anything that everyone is doing that will bring progress to our country or our town, it is fitting for us to participate in it as well. And that, the character of a lazy person, the character of an indolent person, the character of "you do the work and I'll help you eat it," doesn't fit people of good moral fiber. (Babalọlá 1982: 144) (Self-Translation)