Analysis African Folktales: The Story of Sorghum
The following story is a transcription of an oral recording:
“NploplowoâÂ?¦.
Do you know where the sorghum comes from? Well, I’ll tell you.
I saw this a very long time ago, when I was leading my father by the hand and carrying my mother on my back.
I saw a man with three sons. One afternoon, an afternoon a very long time ago, they heard about a funeral in a nearby village, and the sons decided they wanted to go. The father agreed, but before their journey, he said to his three sons “You must listen to me very carefully-you must not court any woman, for I know what you do, and you will be punished.” And the three sons agreed and went on.
They came to the nearby village and went to the funeral, which lasted one week. The oldest son did not court a woman, and the second son did not court a woman, but the youngest son met a beautiful girl who was very gentle, very lovely, and very nice. On the last day of the week, the third and youngest son said to his beautiful girl “My love! I should not have disobeyed my father; now I will punished!” to which the girl replied that when she was very young, her mother taught her to watch things from a calabash of milk. So they bought a calabash of milk, and the girl said that she would watch for him.
In the evening, when the three sons came to the entrance of their village, their father greeted them with a spear in his hand. He wanted to know if they had behaved, and told them that if they told the truth and jumped over the spear, nothing would happen. If they lied and jumped over the spear, they would die. So he asked his oldest son “Did you court any woman?” to which the son said:
N ta’a dure la*
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari
N ma moso daa dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tunamgari
M�² moso ma na n da
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari
N’a to’a ni n ni mÃ?² mosÃ?² daa
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tunamgari
Ka n sw�²
Ka n nuu b�²
Tumangari jenbe
*Translated to English, this song is a testimony to the father’s promise: Each brother says “I went to the little village, little village, little village; I haven’t courted any woman in the little village, little village; If I had courted somebody’s woman; So should it pierce me, so that my intestines come out; Pierce me, and destroy me.
Jenbe tumangari
Ka n sw�²
Ka n haraki
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe Tumangari
and jumped over the spear. “Ok, good!” said the father.
“Now, my second son, did you court any woman?” he asked again, to which the second son said:
N ta’a dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari
N ma moso daa dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tunamgari
Ka n sw�²
Ka n nuu b�²
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari
Ka n sw�²
Ka n haraki
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe Tumangari
and jumped over the spear. “Ok, good!” said the father, who of course was very pleased.
“Now, my third son, did you court any woman?” he asked again, to which the third son mumbled:
N ta’a dure laâÂ?¦
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari�
N ma moso daa dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari�.
and then jumped to the side of the spear.
“Son! Do you not take me seriously?” said the father. So the third son, who was ashamed and was scared because he did court a woman, once again mumbled:
âÂ?¦N ta’a dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari�
N ma moso daa dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari�.
and then jumped to the side of the spear.
“Son! Do like your brothers!” said the father again. So the third son sped up his song, jumped, landed on the spear, and with a loud cry, died. “This is a bad son!” the father said disapprovingly, and continued “My oldest son! Take the spear out of this failure and throw him on the garbage pile!” So the oldest son took out the spear and threw him on the garbage pile.
So during this time, the young girl looked in her calabash of milk and saw that the milk had turned to blood. She was very worried and ran to find her young love, the third son who had disobeyed his father. On her way, she saw two snakes. One snake bit the other snake, killed it, and went to the bush, where he chewed leaves and spit them in the other snake’s nostrils.
The snake said “stwo!” and came back to life.
The girl took some leaves and kept running to the village where the third son had lived. She came to the village and saw some vultures flying in circles high above; she went over to the vultures and saw the dead body of her love beneath them. She did not cry, but instead took some leaves and spit them in his nostrils. The third son sneezed “Stwo!” and was again alive.
“Let’s go somewhere else!” he said.
So the two lovers went across rivers, across mountains, and across lands; which were so fertile, so beautiful, and so green. They came to a nice place and started farming. The first year went good, the second year went great, but the third year went perfect! They had lots of food to eat and share.
One day, a hunter came to their village, saw that it was very nice, and told his own village about it. One after another they all came to join and the village became a town, and then became a city. The city wanted to crown the third son as king, and gave him many wives.
Back at the father’s village, there was draught, starvation, and death. The oldest son and the second son both died, and the father had to beg from door to door and became very pitied by his village. He had to wander from one place to another; had to sing to the ladies pounding millet to get food; had to sing the only song he could:
N ta’a dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari
N ma moso daa dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari�.
and when he had begged from all the ladies in the town, had to wander to faraway villages.
One day he came to his third son’s village, which was very nice and very prosperous. He begged every morning in front of the palace and they would give him some bran to eat. Soon enough, the king’s young daughter, who of course did not know who the hungry man was, learned his song, and came to sing it to her father-the king, the third son:
N ta’a dure la
Tumangari jenbe
Jenbe tumangari
N ma moso daa dure la�.
and the king was astonished and said “Where did you hear that??” The young daughter continued “Daddy! The old blind man comes to the palace every day to sing for bran and he sings this song!” The king immediately called for his wife and asked her “Is it true that an old blind man comes to the palace every day to sing for bran?” to which his wife replied that yes, it was true.
The king wished to see the old blind man, and cooked all types of food and put it in piles in his living room. Like every morning, the old blind man came to sing for bran the next day and was met by children who told him “Oh, the king wants to see you!” They grabbed his hands and took him to the palace but the man was very nervous and kept saying things like “no, I am too dirty!” and did not want to go in.
Eventually he went in and was invited to lunch by the king, who offered him all types of food to eat. The old man said “Oh, father, thank you!” and the king replied “No, you are much older than me.”
So the king started to ask the old man questions, like where he was from and what was his village. The old man said that he did not want to remember his village, and that it was very far away. The king asked him why he did not want to remember his village, and to this, the old man replied “Well, father, I had two sons, and they have both died.”
The king continued “Only two?” to which the old man paused and replied “Well, ok, three, but I do not count him and he was a nasty child. Let us forget him.” But the king did not want to forget, and asked again about the third son. “Well, this third son,” he began, “Wasn’t he the youngest?” The old man said “âÂ?¦YesâÂ?¦” and the king said “And pierced by a spear?” And the old man said “âÂ?¦YesâÂ?¦” and the king said “Father, it is me.”
No sooner had he said this than the old man died of shock with his white hair draping like corn over his shoulders, and that is where sorghum comes from.
African Folktales:
The Story of Sorghum
There are certain mysteries about our world that leave us perpetually perplexed and all but satisfied; the workings of myth, legend, and oral narratives look to alleviate questions about the origin of our world and to explain its interesting and more humanistic features. The explanation of meaning through story transcends not only African cultures but throughout the rest of the folktale world as well-these stories are important as both a cultural expression and as a creative outlet for members of the community. Etiological stories, used to explain the significance or origin of something pertinent to the society, reveal a metaphoric or symbolic similarity to something recognized and familiar by the participants and the audience. Certain elements run through these kinds of folktales, as they are extremely important in understanding the values, social norms, acceptance and interpretation of the world within cultural boundaries. Whether they aim to celebrate the geneology of family names, interpret natural phenomena, give historic data, or teach morality and cultural values, folktales serve to gather the community together and teach, relieve, and uplift.
One such example, the story of the sorghum, exposes the origin of the grain in a creative yet interesting manner; the folk narratives can be used for children’s entertainment, as a creatively flexible outlet, and as a performance piece. More traditional and respected forms of story, such as the Mandinka creation myth, which search to define and link human and social development and the expression of the hierarchy of power within the community, allowing a sense of universal development and an archetype for society. These ideas are transmitted through the story of the origin of the universe, which is, in all cultures, a naturally obscure notion to conceptualize. However, our story of focus-the history of the sorghum-does not seek to reveal powerful forces in the universe; it merely attempts to playfully describe and convey the traditional appearance and source of a staple food in the Mandinka community through a set of established storytelling elements. It serves to make possible the acceptance of the world in which they live, and allows them to enjoy a collective sense of unity and identity with regards to unique interpretations of the nature and universe within their frame of reference.
Traditional stories begin with the narrator presenting himself as being “captured” by his legend; this is his way of allowing himself to escape and be transported into the world of extraordinary events that the following story might contain. In the story of the sorghum, we find that the narrator digs deep into his memory to reveal a time long ago, when he was leading his father by the hand and carrying his mother on his back; this alludes to a sense of elastic yet distant time, providing the audience with a tangible frame of reference but still keeping it away from modern touch. In this way, the real historical basis is stretched thin, so that the explanation to come is intended to be taken more seriously. Following this framing and introduction, the story’s elements follow a predictable yet still creative pattern in the vein of African storytelling: repetition, emphasis, euphonic devices, song, parallelism, and piling all play major roles in the development of this explanatory tale. The story follows a pattern quite typical of narratives, and provides, at the finish, a conclusion about the sorghum grain-it is, of course, somewhat similar to the shape of an old man’s white hair draping over his shoulder. This staple food is relevant in most, if not all, Africans’ cultural frame of reference, and is important to understand before analyzing the story.
The semantic repetition in the story takes on a hypnotic, lulling fashion-it induces a very rhythmic atmosphere in the absence of music and takes on both an aesthetic but useful value. There is a particular emphasis on the descriptive aspect of the tale: for example, the beautiful girl courted by the third son is “very gentle, very lovely, and very nice,” strengthening the idea to the listeners that the girl is indeed a good person. In the village much later in the story, there is “much draught, much starvation, and much death” and the father “ha[s] to wander from place to place; ha[s] to sing for food; ha[s] to sing the only song he could,” emphatically displaying his constant battle with survival. The repetition of questions posed by the father-“now, did you court any woman?”-follows a steady structure similar to that of the repeated song responses of the sons: they continually answer with exactly the same song in the same tune and subsequently “jump over the spear.” This shows continuity in action, and when the break comes when the third son is asked the question repeatedly, he mumbles the song three times, emphasizing the irony in the song and the situation. Later, the father’s song, reminiscent of his sons earlier in the text, reminds the audience of the refrain, and gives them a chance to feel like they are truly beginning to be a part of the story.
Like most song refrains, the audience and participants begin to learn the melody and rhythm of the piece, and by the end, recognize it running constantly throughout the story. In the story of the sorghum, the sons’ song, which includes “tumangari jenbe/jenbe tumangari” is structurally referred to as lexical parallelism, and is easily discernible in a more complicated plot. It achieves a sense of unity throughout its plot development, and aids in relief and memory of the main idea of the tale. This kind of parallelism, which is stylistically flowing throughout the entire piece, is identified by the continual use of the three sons, whose situations mirror each other in completely opposite ways. The parallelism occurs in various parts throughout the story, indicated by the parallel movement and the displacement of the characters.
The form of the story follows a scheme narratif in the quality of Sory Camara and his distribution of movements. The initial framing of the story, lending to a distance from reality, separates the time and space as something of the past, and gives the audience a feeling of the past. The story regroups several times-first, the three sons and the father reside in their village, where all is good and well. The three sons enter the bush to attend the funeral, and return to the village, greeted by their father and a spear. After being revived from death, the third son leaves for the bush again, which soon becomes a village; in essence, the bush has now evolved into a village, just as the son has evolved into a respected king.
With regard to interpretation and analysis of this story, it is imperative to remember that without full understanding of the culture from which the tale comes, it is nearly impossible to critique an oral art. The relevance of social conditions and daily life is crucial to the internal structure of any society’s art-orality is no different, and certainly plays a huge role in accounting for particular or peculiar aspects of a people’s customs and habitual lifestyle. Obviously, the story of sorghum comes from a loose similarity in its appearance to that of an old man’s hair draping over his shoulders. The story, although revolving around this text, does not reveal the agricultural origin of the plant, nor does it intend to do so. It is merely a reference point in an attempt to explain a certain aspect of life and of something occurring naturally in the environment. The story achieves this by allowing the context to revolve around their particular society, and serves to explain the origin and importance of a whole range of ideas, from a mystical perspective of that of the sorghum itself, to a practical perspective of that of their community’s experience and human nature. It deals with the idea of father and son relationships, love, respect, custom, conservatism, and a myriad of cultural values.
The prevailing theme in this story is the complex relationship between the father and his third son; although there are three brothers, the other two play a relatively minor role in the story, and are relevant only to offset the “deviant” behavior of their youngest brother. The story reflects characteristics and behavior pertinent to African society by teaching the idea that a father is the first enemy-that one is always in competition with one’s father, and that one must follow his own rules to achieve happiness. The father’s demise occurs partly because he cannot let go of his rigid beliefs, and is not interested in the well-being of his sons; instead, he believes that old customs are the only correct ones and anything else is disgraceful. The son, although disobedient, loves his father and is ashamed and scared of the consequences, and therefore chooses to lie. His love is real for both his father and his beautiful girl, and even in his highest moment of prestige and power, he admits his unforgiving father into his world. It is apparent that the father, whose evolution is one of ruin, plays a role to demonstrate that bitterness and resentment only results in pain and loneliness.
This story is not one of a negative tone, however; it seems that it merely stands to portray the sense that with change comes evolution, and conservatism is altogether fatal. The two older sons who continue obeying their father are minor characters; however, their minor role suits their purpose-they are conservative, simple, and conventional. The third son, whose deviant behavior causes his death but also his reign as king, encompasses adventure, lust, change, growth, compassion, and love, ultimately resulting in a fulfilled life. He leads his own way and creates a new life for himself, emonstrates that even in death, love will survive. His beautiful girl suitably revives him from fatality, and their love draws them to new pastures of fertile land and usable soil. They grow their own village and become royalty while the father slowly becomes victim to draught, starvation, and death. The son’s love for his father is unconditional, while the father’s love is fleeting and based on social convention.