Black Tales for White Children. C. H. Stigand

Black Tales for White Children - C. H. Stigand


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       Nancy Yulee Stigand, C. H. Stigand

      Black Tales for White Children

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664594310

       FOREWORD

       I THE LION OF MANDA

       II PEMBA MUHORI

       III THE CAT'S TAIL

       IV THE YOUNG THIEF

       V THE TRAPPER, THE LION AND THE HARE

       VI NUNDA THE SLAYER AND THE ORIGIN OF THE ONE-EYED

       VII THE WOODCUTTER AND HIS DONKEY

       VIII KITANGATANGA OF THE SEA

       IX THE LION'S TALISMAN

       X THE STORY OF KIBARAKA AND THE BIRD

       XI THE STORY OF THE FOOLS

       XII THE HYAENA AND THE MOONBEAM

       XIII THE SULTAN'S SNAKE-CHILD

       XIV THE POOR MAN AND HIS WIFE OF WOOD

       XV BINTI ALI THE CLEVER

       XVI SEGU THE HONEY-GUIDE

       XVII LILA AND FILA

       XVIII THE STORY OF THE HUNTERS AND THE BIG SNAKE

       XIX ALI OF THE CROOKED ARM

       XX FEEDING THE HUNGRY

       XXI SHANI AND TABAK

       XXII A MAN AND HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW

       XXIII THE JACKAL, THE HARE AND THE COCK

       XXIV THE MAGIC DATE TREES

       XXV PAKA THE CAT

       XXVI THE TALE OF THE MERCHANT AND HIS BAG OF GOLD

       XXVII BATA THE DUCK

       XXVIII THE SULTAN'S DAUGHTER

       XXIX THE LION, THE HYAENA AND THE HARE

       Table of Contents

      MANY hundreds of years ago Arab sailors began to explore the east coast of Africa, being driven southwards in their sailing vessels by the northerly winds or monsoons of one part of the year and returning to their homes by the help of the southerly winds of the other half of the year.

      As trade with the coast grew, Persians and Arabs founded settlements on the coast, and the numerous islands and towns and kingdoms grew up. These original settlers mixed with the black races of the interior, and it is from this mixture that the people now called Swahili have sprung. The word Swahili, or Sawaheli, comes from the Arabic word Sawahil, meaning coast, and hence the east coast of Africa.

      A language derived partly from Arabic and partly from several African Bantu tongues came into being. This is called Kisawaheli, or the Swahili language, and different dialects of it are spoken practically the whole length of the East African coast and the islands close to it.

      The stories which follow are drawn from a number heard at different times and in different places, and they have been written down as nearly as possible as told by the Swahili himself. Some were told by story-tellers in the coast towns, others were overheard on the march in the interior or round the camp-fire at night.

      These stories have not been kept in any book or written document, but have been repeated from mouth to mouth, perhaps for hundreds of years. Either they are narrated by a professional story-teller of a coast town, who hands on his stock of them to his son after him, or they are told by mothers to their children almost from the time they can toddle. These children, when they grow up, tell them, in their turn, to their children, but the story is always told in the evening.

      During the day-time there is work to do and no good woman has time to waste in idleness. She must go out into the fields with her baby strapped on her back and hoe and weed the crops in the hot sun, she must grind the maize or millet into flour between two stones, winnow the grain, cook her husband's dinner, draw the water, collect firewood, and perform many other duties.

      When the day's work is done and the evening meal is finished they sit round the fire outside the hut, for they have no lamps or even electric light. Perhaps they sit in a little courtyard, surrounded by a high palisade, for fear of the lions, or perhaps, no lions having been heard of late, they sit in the cleared space in the centre of the village, each family by its little fire. Then the mother tells her stories to the children, who soon get to know them all by heart, yet never tire of hearing them again and again. "Tell us, mother, the story of Nunda, so that we may join in the chorus—

      "Siye mwanangu siye, siye Nunda mlawatu."

       (It is not he, my child, not Nunda the eater of folk.)

      Or it may be on a journey after a long and tiring day's march, the evening meal is cooked and eaten, and then the tired porters lie round the camp-fire and call on one of their number to tell a story, "So that we may forget the


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