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July 06, 2004
Ouedraogo, Sauodogo and the Chobbal
Two Mossi merchants were travelling to Ouagadougou together, a journey of two days through the semi-desert. Their names were Ouedraogo and Sauodogo. Ouedraogo had brought provisions for the journey, Sauodogo had not.
By the afternoon of the first day the merchants were hungry. Seeing a well not far off, Ouedraogo decided to stop and eat. He sat down on the ground and took off his turban. Sauodogo did likewise. Ouedraogo opened his bag and took out four balls of chobbal. (Chobbal is a mixture of cooked millet and herbs. You mix it with water or milk and eat it like porridge).
When he saw the chobbal, Sauodogo's eyes lit up and he licked his lips.
'You aren't going to eat that all by yourself, are you?' he said.
Ouedraogo certainly was going to eat it all by himself. But he said nothing.
'Shall I go and draw the water?' said Sauodogo.
Clever, thought Ouedraogo. If he draws the water he will claim that part of the chobbal is his by right.
'No,' he said. 'I will draw the water. Stay here and do not touch the chobbal until I get back.'
Ouedraogo started off towards the well, but his mind was not at peace. He did not trust Sauodogo one little bit. He turned round and walked backwards so that he could keep an eye on Sauodogo and the chobbal. Yes, he was right to take precautions; he could tell by the look in Sauodogo's eyes that he wanted to eat that chobbal, even without water if necessary. He should have brought the chobbal with him, he thought. Were all four balls of chobbal still there? He could only see three. Perhaps one was behind the others out of sight…
Unfortunately, Ouedraogo was concentrating so hard on the chobbal that he did not realize he had arrived at the well. He walked backwards right into the open hole.
'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh –'
Sauodogo saw Ouedraogo fall into the well.
'Zorki,' he said.
He should go and help Ouedraogo, he thought.
Or perhaps he should eat the chobbal first.
Sauodogo ate the chobbal without water. It made his mouth dry but it tasted wonderful. He ate one ball, then another. He should save the other two for Ouedraogo.
Or perhaps he should eat them himself. After all, he would need all his strength to pull Ouedraogo out of the well.
Sauodogo ate all the chobbal, then sat back and sighed. It was then that he saw the fly.
A crumb of chobbal had fallen onto Sauodogo's chest and on top of it was sitting a little fly. Sauodogo was incensed. How dare he eat my chobbal, he thought. What an impertinent fly. What a wicked, greedy fly.
Instinctively, Sauodogo drew his knife and struck viciously at the fly, which flew off into the air. The blade of Sauodogo's knife went through the chobbal, through his robes and into his heart.
'Zorki,' he said, and died.
That is the end of the story. Now here are two questions for you:
Who do you think was more selfish – Ouedraogo or Sauodogo?
And who do you think was more stupid?
Posted by sahelsteve at July 6, 2004 03:49 PM