Long ago, when life was unhurried and time seemed to wait for every man’s turn at happiness, there was a village sunk in deep sorrow. Its people were restless, their homes joyless, and their Chief so burdened by grief that he could not even think about his only daughter, the princess, who had grown beyond marriageable age. The gloom that hung over the Chief spread into every corner of the land, casting shadows of despair across the village.
But what was the cause of this misery? Was it the outbreak of war? No. A quarrel in the royal household? No. Perhaps famine, plague, or drought? Not even that. The real cause of their suffering was far more unusual: in the very heart of the village stood a towering tree, and at its highest branches lived a monstrous python with two mouths.
This python was enormous, thick as a wild banana tree wedged in the crevice of a hill, and fierce beyond measure. He slithered down from his lofty perch whenever he pleased, devouring chickens and their eggs, swallowing calves, kids, and lamb’s whole, and sinking his fangs into cattle to drain their blood. Time and again the villagers tried to kill him, but his strength and cunning were unmatched. Even the elders, skilled in charms and hunting, failed. The Chief himself had exhausted every weapon and strategy he knew, but to no avail.
The people complained bitterly, their cries reaching the Chief daily. But the old man could only sigh, “I am as sorry as you are, my people. Yet there is no one left who can rid us of this terrible python.”
One day, the Chief’s advisers whispered of a desperate solution. “Let us cut down the great tree,” they urged. “Without his shelter, the monster will perish.” But the Chief refused. That tree was no ordinary one, it was the sacred totem of his family and of the entire village. To cut it down would be to invite an unnatural death upon them all. So, the misery continued.
READ: The Rhinoceros and the Turtle: A Bemba Folktale from Zambia
At last, another plan was devised. The Chief announced that whoever could slay the python would win the hand of his daughter, the princess. Messengers were sent far and wide, and soon warriors, hunters, archers, and spearmen flocked to the village. They came from near and far, each eager to try their luck. Yet one after another they failed, retreating in shame as the python remained unconquered.
Seeing no end to their torment, the Chief proclaimed again: “Go into the forest. Call to every creature, great or small. Tell them that whoever frees us from this curse shall marry my daughter.”
The message spread quickly. Many animals trembled at the thought of facing the python. Others were content with their lives in the bush and ignored the call. Only one answered the hare.
The hare came boldly, bringing with him a goat and a dog. In one hand he carried a bundle of grass, in the other a chunk of buffalo meat. Standing at the foot of the cursed tree, he called out to the villagers: “Bring forth your Chief, the one who seeks relief from this plague! Let him promise before you all that he will keep his word if I succeed.”
The Chief appeared, solemn and weary, and repeated his vow. “If you rid us of this scourge, I will give you my daughter in marriage.”
The hare nodded. Then, asking the villagers to step back, he placed the grass before the dog and the meat before the goat. He patted them gently and commanded them to eat. But neither animal moved. The dog would not touch grass; the goat would not touch meat.
The hare’s eyes flared with anger. “Eat!” he shouted, stamping the ground. Still, they refused. In mock fury he cried, “Bring me an axe! If they disobey, I shall kill them.”
The villagers gasped. “What good would that do us?” they murmured, confused. Yet the Chief ordered an axe to be brought. The hare lifted it high.
“You people have brains,” he said sharply. “But you have not used them. Watch, and learn how wisdom can do what strength cannot.”
At that very moment, the python, peering from above, grew restless. He pitied the faithful dog and the gentle goat. Surely, he thought, this foolish hare did not know which food belonged to which animal. Wishing to correct the mistake, the python slithered down. With his monstrous coils shifting, he moved to place the grass before the goat and the meat before the dog.
That was the moment the hare had been waiting for. With swift precision, he swung the axe and struck the python, cutting the dreaded monster in two.
The village erupted in joy. Freed at last from their tormentor, the people danced and sang. True to his word, the Chief gave his daughter in marriage to the clever hare. A grand hut was built for him, and the villagers clothed and fed him for the rest of his life. Their sorrow was lifted, and peace returned to the land.
Moral Lesson
This tale teaches that true strength lies not always in power or might, but in wisdom and the careful use of the mind. The hare, though small and seemingly weak, achieved what the strongest warriors could not. Intelligence, patience, and strategy can triumph over brute force and overwhelming danger.
Knowledge Check
Q1: Who was the main source of misery in the village?
A1: A giant two-mouthed python living atop a sacred tree.
Q2: Why did the Chief refuse to cut down the tree?
A2: The tree was the sacred totem of his family and the entire village.
Q3: What reward did the Chief promise to whoever killed the python?
A3: His daughter, the princess, in marriage.
Q4: Which animal finally accepted the challenge against the python?
A4: The hare, accompanied by a goat and a dog.
Q5: How did the hare trick the python into coming down the tree?
A5: By pretending to feed the wrong food to the goat and the dog, provoking the python to intervene.
Q6: What is the key lesson of this Bemba folktale?
A6: Wisdom and clever thinking can defeat even the greatest dangers.
Source: Bemba folktales, Folktales of Zambia by Chiman L. Vyas (1969), Zambia
