In the rolling hills of Cameroon, where red earth meets emerald forests and smoke from cooking fires curls toward the sky like prayers, there lived a young girl named Cheche. Her laughter rang through the village compound like music, bright and infectious, drawing smiles from even the most serious elders. She was clever and spirited, with eyes that sparkled with mischief and a heart full of joy. Yet for all her wonderful qualities, Cheche had one troubling flaw, she was dreadfully careless.
Her days were spent working for a wealthy woman in the village, a kind but firm mistress who had taken Cheche into her household when the girl’s own family could no longer provide for her. The work was not harsh, and Cheche was grateful for the shelter, food, and the few coins that found their way into her small cloth pouch each month.
On this particular morning, the air was heavy with the promise of rain, and the market day bustle had already begun echoing from the village center. Cheche was sweeping the compound when her mistress emerged from the house, her baby son balanced on her hip. The child was the woman’s greatest treasure a plump, healthy boy with round cheeks and curious eyes that seemed to take in everything around him.
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“Cheche,” the mistress called, her voice carrying the weight of importance. “Today I must journey to the market to sell my groundnuts and buy cloth for the coming season. I am entrusting my most precious possession to your care.”
She gently placed the baby in Cheche’s eager arms, and the child gurgled with delight, tiny fingers reaching up to touch her face. “Listen carefully to my words,” the mistress continued, her eyes serious as storm clouds. “You must not take your eyes off him for even a moment. Do not take him outside where dust and sun might harm him. Keep him far from the cooking fire where sparks could burn his tender skin. Above all else, keep him safe until the sun brings me home again.”
Cheche nodded with the enthusiasm of youth, bouncing the baby gently as he cooed and laughed. “Yes, Mama, I will guard him as carefully as a mother hen watches her chicks. You need not worry, he will be perfectly safe in my arms.”
The mistress smiled, kissed her son’s forehead, and departed for the market with her basket balanced gracefully on her head. The compound fell quiet except for the baby’s soft babbling and the distant sounds of village life.
At first, Cheche threw herself into her duties with genuine care. She rocked the baby in her arms while humming traditional lullabies her own mother had sung to her years ago. She made funny faces that sent him into peals of delighted laughter, and she played gentle games with his tiny fingers and toes. The morning passed peacefully, and Cheche felt proud of her responsibility.
But as the sun climbed higher and the day grew warmer, restlessness began to creep into her young heart like termites boring into wood. Through the open doorway, she could hear her friends calling to each other in the compound courtyard. Their voices carried tales of a new game they had invented, of gossip from other villages, of plans for evening dances when the work was done.
The baby had grown sleepy in the heat, his eyelids heavy as he dozed fitfully in her arms. “Surely,” Cheche whispered to herself, “if I place him safely on his sleeping mat, he will continue to rest. Just for a few moments, I could join my friends. What harm could possibly come to a sleeping child?”
The temptation grew stronger with each burst of laughter from outside. Finally, her resolve crumbled like clay in the dry season. She carefully laid the baby on his woven mat near the doorway, where a gentle breeze might cool him, and arranged soft cloths around him like protective walls.
“I will only be gone for a moment,” she promised the sleeping child, then slipped outside to join the circle of young people engaged in animated conversation and games.
But moments stretched into longer moments, and Cheche became lost in the joy of companionship and play. The baby, meanwhile, stirred from his nap as the afternoon heat intensified. Finding himself alone, he began to crawl with the determined curiosity that drives all healthy children to explore their world.
First, his tiny hands and knees carried him toward the cooking area, where the morning’s fire still glowed with dangerous embers. The bright red coals fascinated him, and he reached out his chubby fingers toward the pretty, dancing lights that could have scarred him for life.
But some protective spirit must have been watching, for a sudden gust of wind scattered ash that made him sneeze and turn away. Undeterred, he continued his adventure, crawling steadily toward the compound gate where the family’s goats and chickens roamed freely in search of grass and insects.
One particularly ornery billy goat, disturbed from his afternoon grazing, turned toward the approaching baby with lowered head and flashing eyes. The animal’s horns gleamed dangerously in the sunlight as he prepared to defend his territory from this strange, crawling intruder.
At that precise moment, Cheche’s laughter died in her throat as she suddenly remembered her sacred duty. Terror shot through her body like lightning as she realized the baby was no longer where she had left him. Her scream pierced the afternoon air as she spotted the child directly in the path of the aggressive goat.
“Aieeee!” she cried, racing across the compound with speed born of desperate love and fear. She scooped the baby into her arms just as the goat’s head swept through the space where the child had been crawling. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird, and tears of relief and shame streamed down her cheeks.
The baby, oblivious to the danger he had faced, laughed and clapped his hands at the excitement, treating the whole adventure as a wonderful game. But Cheche was devastated by her carelessness and the terrible consequences that had almost befallen the innocent child in her care.
Carrying the baby back inside, she sank onto the mat with trembling legs, overwhelmed by guilt and the magnitude of her near-failure. But Cheche was not only careless, she was also clever. As her initial panic subsided, her quick mind began working on a solution to prevent such a disaster from ever happening again.
She searched through the mistress’s sewing basket until she found a length of bright, colorful beads strung on strong thread. Gently, she tied one end around the baby’s chubby wrist, loose enough to be comfortable but secure enough to stay in place. The other end she wrapped around her own wrist, creating a tether that would alert her immediately if the child began to wander.
Next, she gathered all the baby’s favorite toys, carved wooden animals, rattles made from dried gourds, and soft cloth dolls and arranged them within easy reach around his mat. She also moved his sleeping area farther from the door, placing it in the safest corner of the room where he could see outside but not easily crawl away.
For the remainder of the afternoon, Cheche never left the baby’s side. She sat cross-legged beside him, humming softly while he played with his toys and tugged curiously at the pretty beads on his wrist. When he grew fussy, she rocked him gently. When he grew hungry, she fed him the mashed plantain his mother had prepared. And all the while, the colorful string of beads served as a constant reminder of her responsibility and her promise.
When the mistress returned from market as the sun painted the sky in shades of orange and gold, she found her son safe, content, and laughing as he played with the bright beads around his wrist. A smile of satisfaction crossed her tired face as she observed the peaceful scene.
“You have done very well, Cheche,” she said warmly, lifting her son and kissing his forehead. “I can see that he has been happy and well-cared-for all day.”
Cheche lowered her eyes, feeling the weight of both relief and lingering guilt. She had nearly failed in the most important task ever entrusted to her, but she had also learned something invaluable about responsibility, quick thinking, and the importance of keeping one’s word.
From that day forward, Cheche became known throughout the village as the most reliable and trustworthy young woman anyone could hope to find. She never again allowed herself to be distracted from her duties, and whenever she was entrusted with something precious, she guarded it as carefully as she would guard her own life.
Moral Lesson
This tale teaches that responsibility cannot be set aside for convenience or pleasure, and that our careless moments can have serious consequences for others who depend on us. However, it also shows that when we make mistakes, we can redeem ourselves through quick thinking, genuine care, and commitment to doing better. True maturity comes not from never failing, but from learning from our failures and becoming more reliable.
Knowledge Check
Q1: What character traits does Cheche display in this Cameroon folktale? A1: Cheche shows both positive traits (cleverness, ability to learn, eventual responsibility) and flaws (carelessness, easily distracted nature), making her a realistic character who grows through experience.
Q2: What specific dangers threaten the baby when Cheche neglects her duties? A2: The baby faces two main dangers: nearly touching hot cooking fire embers that could burn him, and encountering an aggressive billy goat that could have seriously injured him with its horns.
Q3: How does Cheche redeem herself after her moment of carelessness? A3: Cheche creates a clever solution by tying colorful beads between her wrist and the baby’s wrist as a safety tether, and arranges toys strategically to keep the child entertained and contained.
Q4: What role does the wealthy mistress play in this Cameroon tale? A4: The mistress represents the trust placed in young people and serves as both authority figure and benefactor, giving clear instructions and ultimately recognizing Cheche’s growth and reliability.
Q5: What cultural elements reflect traditional Cameroon village life in this story? A5: The story includes market day activities, compound living with communal spaces, cooking fires, domestic animals roaming freely, and the practice of young people working for wealthier families.
Q6: How does this folktale teach lessons about personal growth and maturity? A6: The story demonstrates that true maturity comes from learning from mistakes rather than never making them, and that responsibility grows stronger when tested by real consequences and genuine care for others.
Source: Cameroon folktale, as retold from Shadows in the Firelight
