In the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful, and may the peace of Allah be upon him, after whom there is no prophet.
This is the beginning of a story about people. A story, a story. Let it go, let it come.
A chief had a slave who had a wife, and it was said the wife was of a loose character. But the husband said it was a lie, that his wife did not go after men. At last, one day, a certain old woman said to him, “Always when you go to the council, then she is after the men.”
The old woman said, “Today mount your horse and say you are going to an outlying village to sleep there.”
So the chief’s slave saddled his horse, mounted, took the road, and went away. When evening came he had not returned, for he had said, “I am going and shall not return.”
Now the wife had lovers the galadima, the vizier, and a certain foreigner who was also one of the chief’s slaves, by name The World.
As soon as the master of the house went out, the wife sent word to her lovers. She said, “My master will go to an outlying village, and he will not return today but tomorrow.”
The galadima came first. He brought four thousand cowries’ worth of meat and two thousand cowries’ worth of rice to the woman. When night came, he arrived, and the meat and rice were set out. He ate.
But soon he heard the sound of the vizier’s slippers. Down he fell under the bed, and the rice was lifted and covered up.
Sure enough, it was the vizier. He sat down, and he too was given rice and meat, and he ate.
Then he heard the noise of the slippers of him called The World. Thinking it was the husband, he fell under the bed only to discover the galadima already hiding there.
“Oh, it’s the galadima, is it?” he whispered.
“Yes,” the galadima answered. “Let us keep this secret.”
“There is no harm in that,” the vizier said.
They hid together. Then The World arrived. He was given his share of food, and he ate.
But suddenly they heard the hoofs of the horse of the master of the house he had returned!
The World threw away his plate and fell under the bed.
Under the bed he saw a man. “Who are you?” he asked.
The galadima and the vizier answered, “It is we.”
Then The World said, “You, galadima, what brings you here?”
And they pleaded, “For the sake of Allah, World, let us keep this secret among us.”
“All right,” said The World. “Keep silent.”
Then they all kept still.
Meanwhile, the husband was outside taking off his saddle. He knew nothing.
His wife brought him water to wash. He washed, entered the house, and sat on the bed.
She said, “Greetings to you on your coming.”
But he did not reply. He kept wondering and saying, “The World, The World.”
For he had been told lies about his wife going after men, yet he saw no one.
He kept repeating, “The World, The World.”
Now The World, hiding under the bed, thought he was being called. He became angry and spoke out:
“You! Is it only The World you find fault with? Look! Do you not see the galadima and the vizier? But only The World! Seeing that it is The World you are finding fault with?”
Chaos broke loose. The galadima and the vizier ran out.
The woman’s husband and The World began fighting.
The old woman shouted for help. People came and separated them.
Next morning the matter was brought before the chief.
The husband told the story, and the councillors split themselves laughing.
The chief asked, “Where are the galadima and the vizier?”
He was told they had not come.
He sent people to check on them. They found the galadima and the vizier were not at their houses.
Of a truth, they had fled into the bush and until now they have not been seen, for very shame.
And the moral of this is that it does not behove a man of position to act improperly.
That is all.
Off with the rat’s head.