In the vast, sun-baked plains of Somalia, where the earth stretches endlessly beneath an unforgiving sky, there once lived a man named Ina Hagadare. He was a shepherd, a keeper of flocks, and his wealth was measured not in coins or gold, but in the number of sheep that grazed under his watchful care. Ina Hagadare was blessed with many sheep so many that their bleating filled the air like a constant song, and their woolly bodies dotted the landscape like clouds fallen to earth.
For years, Ina Hagadare had tended his flock with pride and dedication. He knew each animal, recognized their individual calls, and felt a deep satisfaction watching them grow fat and healthy under his stewardship. His sheep were his livelihood, his security, his future. They provided wool for clothing, meat for sustenance, and animals for trade. Life was good, and Ina Hagadare thanked Allah for his blessings.
But then, without warning, tragedy struck his peaceful existence. One morning, as the first light of dawn painted the horizon in shades of orange and pink, Ina Hagadare discovered one of his sheep lying motionless on the ground, its eyes glazed over in death. His heart sank with grief and confusion. What had happened? Had it been ill? Had a predator somehow entered the fold during the night?
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The next day brought more heartache. Another sheep lay dead. And then another the following day. And another after that. Day after day, Ina Hagadare would wake with dread in his heart, wondering which of his precious animals would be taken from him next. The daily losses continued relentlessly, like grains of sand slipping through his fingers, and he felt powerless to stop it.
Ina Hagadare’s mind churned with worry and confusion. Why were his sheep dying? He examined them carefully, looking for signs of disease or injury. He checked their water source, wondering if it had been poisoned. He searched the perimeter of his grazing lands for evidence of wild animals or thieves. But he could find no clear cause, no obvious explanation for the mysterious deaths that plagued his flock.
Finally, in his desperation and confusion, Ina Hagadare came up with what seemed like a clever solution. If he couldn’t understand why his sheep were dying, perhaps the problem was spiritual rather than practical. Perhaps Allah was testing him, or perhaps he had not been grateful enough for his blessings. He would make a bargain with God himself.
With renewed determination, Ina Hagadare set to work. He divided his entire flock into two equal parts, constructing a sturdy fence down the middle of his grazing land. On one side, he placed half of his sheep. On the other side, he placed the remaining half. He stood between the two groups and raised his hands toward heaven in prayer.
“Oh Allah, Most Merciful and Compassionate,” he called out with fervent sincerity, “I dedicate these animals to You!” He gestured toward one half of the divided flock. “These sheep belong to You alone. If it pleases You, You may take them. You may kill them if You wish. But I humbly ask, I beg of You, please do not touch my animals!” He pointed to the other half of the flock, the ones he had designated as his own.
Satisfied with his arrangement, Ina Hagadare went to sleep that night feeling somewhat relieved. Surely this would solve the problem. Surely Allah would be pleased with his offering and would spare his portion of the flock.
But when morning came, Ina Hagadare’s hope crumbled like dried earth. The sheep continued to die. The relentless pattern had not changed at all. Whether the dead sheep came from Allah’s side or his own side made no difference, the losses continued day after day.
Now frustration mixed with Ina Hagadare’s grief. He had tried to be clever, tried to negotiate with the divine, but it hadn’t worked. And yet, he couldn’t simply accept these losses. His pride wouldn’t allow it, and neither would his sense of fairness. So he developed a new strategy, one born more of stubbornness than wisdom.
Whenever one of his sheep died, whether from his designated portion or from Allah’s portion, Ina Hagadare would march over to the section he had assigned to Allah and deliberately kill one of those animals. “If my sheep must die,” he reasoned to himself, “then Allah’s sheep must die too. It’s only fair.”
But this vengeful arithmetic solved nothing. The mysterious deaths continued unabated, heedless of Ina Hagadare’s bargaining, his prayers, or his retaliatory killings. His flock grew smaller and smaller, the losses mounting from both the mysterious deaths and his own angry slaughtering of “Allah’s sheep.”
Finally, exhausted and defeated, Ina Hagadare sat among the remnants of his once-magnificent flock and spoke aloud to himself, his voice heavy with bewilderment and resignation: “Every time I talk to Allah, I am punished with more deaths. When I stop talking to Allah, the punishment continues. My animals keep dying, no matter what I do. Nothing changes. Nothing helps.”
He had tried prayer. He had tried bargaining. He had tried dividing his flock and making offerings. But through all of this, he had never once tried to actually investigate the real cause of his sheep’s deaths or take practical action to solve the problem. He had looked to the heavens for answers instead of looking at the ground beneath his feet, at the water his sheep drank, at the plants they grazed upon, or at the possibility of disease that might require treatment.
The Moral Lesson
This Somali folktale teaches a profound lesson about the balance between faith and personal responsibility. While belief in Allah and prayer are important in Islamic tradition, God does not need our offerings or bargains, He expects us to use the intelligence and capability He has given us to solve our own problems. Ina Hagadare’s mistake was not in praying, but in substituting prayer for action. He never investigated the actual cause of his sheep’s deaths or sought practical solutions. The story reminds us that faith should inspire us to work diligently and think critically, not replace common sense with superstition. As the saying goes, “Trust in God, but tie your camel.” True wisdom comes from combining faith with effort, devotion with practical problem-solving.
Knowledge Check
Q1: Who is Ina Hagadare in Somali folklore?
A1: Ina Hagadare is the main character in this Somali folktale, a shepherd who owned many sheep. He represents people who rely entirely on prayer and superstition instead of taking practical action to solve their problems.
Q2: What problem did Ina Hagadare face with his flock?
A2: Ina Hagadare’s sheep began dying mysteriously every day. Despite his wealth of animals, he watched helplessly as his flock diminished day after day, unable to understand why they were dying or how to stop it.
Q3: How did Ina Hagadare try to solve the problem of his dying sheep?
A3: Ina Hagadare divided his flock into two equal parts separated by a fence, one half for Allah and one half for himself. He prayed that Allah would only take the sheep designated as His and spare Ina Hagadare’s portion. When this didn’t work, he began killing Allah’s sheep whenever one of his own died.
Q4: Why did Ina Hagadare’s strategy fail to save his sheep?
A4: Ina Hagadare’s strategy failed because he never addressed the actual cause of his sheep’s deaths. Instead of investigating practical reasons—such as disease, poisoned water, or contaminated grazing land, he relied entirely on prayer and superstitious bargaining with God, which couldn’t solve a practical problem.
Q5: What does this Somali folktale teach about faith and action?
A5: The folktale teaches that while faith is important, it must be combined with personal effort and practical action. God expects people to use their intelligence and capabilities to solve problems rather than relying solely on prayer or making bargains. The story emphasizes that “Allah does not need animals”He needs us to help ourselves.
Q6: What cultural and religious values are reflected in Ina Hagadare’s story?
A6: This Somali folktale reflects Islamic values prevalent in Somali culture, particularly the concept that faith must be accompanied by action. It critiques passive reliance on divine intervention without personal effort, a lesson consistent with Islamic teachings that emphasize both trust in Allah and taking responsibility for one’s own affairs. The story uses humor and irony to teach a serious lesson about self-reliance.
Source: Somali folktale, Somalia (East Africa)
