Pass The Calabash

The day was waning, the hard day’s work was done, the night was beckoning and its accompanying pleasures were waiting to be had. Yes, it was time for camaraderie, feisty spirited arguments, dancing, jokes, laughter and the all important ingredient of the beer gourd passing from man to man.

The group of village friends met at the usual drinking joint and sat down in their familiar circle, the flavour of the well fermented malt brew wafting tantalisingly into the air. The blare of the music box spiced the atmosphere, mingling with the loud buzz of conversing voices and occasional whoops of laughter. The calabash passed from mouth to mouth, being refilled from time to time, as the contents were moved from the calabash to their final destination in each man. So time passed and the night rose and the atmosphere became even more intimate and friendly.

In the midst of it, the man who was spiritedly telling a tale while all his friends raptly listened, took the calabash, and took a healthy swig. Since all eyes were already on him, they were startled to see him frown deeply as his whole body paused suddenly, his mouth working rigorously. He spat something into his hand and to his consternation, he saw it was a tooth! He quickly passed his tongue over his teeth, and to his relief, but further consternation found that, definitely, he wasn’t missing any teeth…

There was a silence. ‘Whose tooth was it then?’ The inevitable question floated uncomfortably into the minds of the men and settled like a rock in water in the midst of the circle. They looked at each other as they began to murmur amongst themselves, darting their eyes from the errant tooth to one another till eventually all eyes settled on the prime suspect, the oldest in the group who already had missing teeth and who sat in an embarrassed silence.

The camaraderie that had gathered steam and vibe like a pot of water boiling and promised so much swiftly dissipated like air from a punctured tyre. Each man said his goodbyes and returned home with shudders rocking his body as thoughts of what he had drank haunted him, more so the man in whose mouth, another man’s tooth was found. For him, it is safe to say, the calabash will never be received nor given again; it will now start and stay in his hands.

So says the Sudanese proverb, ‘Be careful when you are sharing a calabash of porridge with a toothless man.’

Peculiar News Compilation

'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'

© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018

The Chicken Method Of Catching A Thief

She hired the young men to help her press the tobacco into bales, in readiness for transportation to the auction floors. And the young men happily worked that day, sorting and packing and pressing using the jack the woman had hired. Towards the death of the afternoon, the young men completed the work and asked for their pay.

‘I don’t have money right now but I can pay you by giving you a chicken,’ the woman said.

The young men were not pleased, of course, but they didn’t cause much trouble as they all agreed that the chicken was also a good way to pay them since the price of a chicken was more than what they had agreed with the woman. The woman went into her house and came out the back and told some little children playing to catch the chicken she was pointing at. The children gleefully complied and chased the chicken around the yard with whoops of delight in their voices and yelps of terror on the chicken’s part.

She took the chicken and gave it to the young men who went away with it. She watched them cynically, with a well pleased expression on her face. She eyed the bales of tobacco and sighed contentedly.

And the sun sank, night came and passed and another day arose…

…to a commotion by a man who was shouting at the top of his voice as he passed through the village from house to house something about his chicken. He was livid and threatening the one who had taken his chicken to return it. But the people of the village didn’t know what had happened to his chicken. He vowed vengeance on the thief and issued one last warning for the thief to come forward of their own accord. No one did.

The furious man went away and the village quiet returned and the day wore on when, once more, the man appeared questioning everyone in a peculiar way whether they had seen his chicken. He would ask the question and then cock his head as if listening to something other than the answer. A crowd of people slowly gathered in his wake, sensing that something strange was about to happen. He rounded the village and soon came to the woman’s house.

‘Did you see my chicken?’ he asked her and cocked his head in the peculiar manner.

‘No,’ she confidently replied, even going as far as making her voice wounded and aggrieved.

But then there issued about her a loud persistent clucking sound of a chicken that startled everyone and so frightened the woman out of her skin because it seemed to be coming from her stomach! The man pounced on her, demanding back his chicken. The woman, who was jumping up and down with terror and dread, at the sound in her stomach agreed to pay him but not his particular chicken.

‘That’s okay. Add two more, if you want the sound to stop.’

Peculiar News Compilation

'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'

© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018

A Surprise Visit From His Mother

When he emigrated to South Africa, he told his mother that he would like her to pay him a visit once things start working out and he had settled down. His mother agreed that it would indeed be nice to visit him in the strange country and see where he settles.

So he set about working his heart out and after some years he was in a position where he could comfortably say he was settled. It was time to invite his mother to come for a visit. He contacted her and told her that she should come for a visit and that he would send her the transport money. But strangely, his mother told him not to worry about the transport cost, that she would see to it herself. He was puzzled because he knew her livelihood could not allow that. But he shoved aside his misgivings and after giving her all the details about where he lived, he waited for her to visit him on an agreed date.

However, some day before the appointed date, towards twilight, he was startled but delighted to see his mother arrive at his house with some bundles of sugarcanes, peanuts and maize flour together with her little bag of clothes. He asked her lots of questions but her answers were vague. And he became confused. So he decided to call his other relatives back home to get the full story and also to tell them that she had arrived safely.

But the relatives were equally confused by what he was telling them because the woman in question was right there with them on the mat beside the fireplace eating her evening meal! With fright and confusion, the two parties didn’t believe each other. As soon as the son hang up, he went looking for his mother but he found she had disappeared. However, the things she had brought were still there as testimony that she had visited.

Meanwhile, the mother is smiling contentedly and to anyone who dares ask, she answers, ‘I visited my son in South Africa. I am glad he is doing okay.’

Peculiar News Compilation
'The Telling Is Mine; The Story Is Not'
© Dingiswayo Allan Sambo 2018