solutions for all · 2020-04-30 · ‘forgive me, i know you granted my wish and gave us bread,...

WIP5007 • SOLUTIONS FOR ALL • ENGLISH HL GRADE NINE READER • FIFTEENTH POSITIVE PROOF • 16 MAY 2013

Solutions for allEnglish

Home LanguageGrade 9

Core Reader

Compilers: S CheketriH Nahman

WIP5007 • SOLUTIONS FOR ALL • ENGLISH HL GRADE NINE READER • FIFTEENTH POSITIVE PROOF • 16 MAY 2013 WIP5007 • SOLUTIONS FOR ALL • ENGLISH HL GRADE NINE READER • FIFTEENTH POSITIVE PROOF • 16 MAY 2013

Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Core Reader

© Compiled and adapted by S Cheketri and H Nahman, 2013

© Illustrations and design Macmillan South Africa (Pty) Ltd, 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, photocopying, recording,

or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder or in accordance with the provisions

of the Copyright Act, 1978 (as amended).Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this

publication may be liable for criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

First published 2013

13 15 17 16 142 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

Published by Macmillan South Africa (Pty) Ltd

Private Bag X19 Northlands

2116Gauteng

South Africa

Typeset in Stone Serif 12/14pt by Positive Proof ccCover design by Deevine DesignCover image from Gallo Images

Illustrations by Shameema Dharsey, Sandy Lightly, Craig Howarth and Annelie Van Der Vyfer

The publishers have made every effort to trace the copyright holders.If they have inadvertently overlooked any, they will be pleased to make the necessary

arrangements at the first opportunity. The publishers would also like to thankthose organisations and individuals we have already approached and from whom

we are anticipating permission.

ISBN: 978-1-4310-1977-9WIP: 5007M000

e-ISBN: 9781431025565

It is illegal to photocopy any page of this book without written permission from the publishers.


Contents

FOLKLORE 1What is folklore? 2The Wishing Fish by Ann Pilling 3The Magic of the Little Honeyguide by Nick Greaves 9The Rabbit and the Tortoise retold by Jennifer Gardner, Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman 15New Life in Kyerefaso by Efua Theodora Sutherland 20The Girl who Wanted Dawn’s Dress by Ngangar Mbitu and Ranchor Prime 26The Testimony of the Fly retold by Mai Vo-Dinh 31How Fire was Discovered – A Tswana tale, retold by Nick Greaves 36Why the Hare has a Split Lip by Mirna Lawrence 42Sipho Snake retold by Jennifer Gardner, Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman 47Zulu – A Creation Myth by Wilhelm Bleek, adapted by Jan Knappert 52

SHORT STORIES 56What is a short story? 57Riot by Casey Motsisi 58The Quarry by Alan Paton 64The Guitar by Paddy Richardson 70The Winner by Barbara Kimenye 76The Toys of Peace by Saki 82There’s Always a Way Out by Gbemi 86Noorjehan by Ahmed Essop 92Relatives by Chris van Wyk 98The Crooks by Gabriel Okara 104Strong Measures by Anthony Parsons 110

POETRY 116What is a poem? 117The song maker by Kingsley Fairbridge 118Bantustan by Alan Paton 119Adventures of Isabel by Ogden Nash 121My brother Bert by Ted Hughes 123Love Poem for My Country by Sandile Dikeni 124


Mending Wall by Robert Frost 126Grandpa by Paul Chidyausiku 128Kwela Man by Johnny Clegg and Juluka 129Promoters of Culture by Joe de Graft 131In some kitchen by Mongane Wally Serote 132Learning by Modikwe Dikobe 133This letter’s to say by Raymond Wilson 134The Birth of Shaka by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali 136Piano and drums by Gabriel Okara 138If you do not stay bitter for too long by Charles Mungoshi 139

DRAMA 141What is drama? 142The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare, adapted by Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman 144

GLOSSARY 197

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 201

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Folklore

FOLKLORE

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Folklore

What is folklore?

Folklore refers to the traditional beliefs, myths, art and customs of a specific community, which are passed on from generation to generation in the form of stories. These stories are called folktales. Folktales often explain things that happen in nature or pass on some truth about life and human nature.

PlotPlot refers to the events in a story and the structure of these events. The plot of a folktale usually concerns the explanation of a tradition or belief. Folktales attempt to explain why things are the way they are or why certain people or animals behave in the way they do. In the past, people did not have access to the scientific knowledge that we have today, so they used storytelling to try to explain the world around them.

CharacterisationThe characters in a folktale, even when they are animals, often represent specific character traits in people, such as cheerfulness, determination, vanity or selfishness. These features are often exaggerated in order to teach the listener or reader a particular lesson.

Role of the narratorFolklore is part of an oral tradition, which means that folktales were originally passed along by word of mouth. The narrator is often an elder or ancestor who wants to teach the community about their past.

Messages and themesMany folktales have a moral lesson for their listeners. These moral lessons are passed down from generation to generation, in order to equip the next generation with the wisdom that their ancestors have acquired.

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Folklore

The Wishing Fish by Ann Pilling

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Blown away’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. If you were given six wishes, what would you wish for?2. Organise a panel discussion on the following topic: ‘Human

beings are never satisfied; that is their glory and their failing.’

There was once a poor, old man who lived in an old, run-down fishing hut with his wife. The hut was right by the seashore. One day, the old man took his fishing net and bait and went down to the seashore to try to catch some fish for him and his wife for supper. He was all skin and bone and his elderly wife was no better. Catches had been getting poorer and poorer, and there was no food left for them to eat. The old man toiled all day, but caught nothing in his fishing net. He cast his net repeatedly, hoping that he would be able to bring home supper. He knew his wife was hungry and he wanted to be a good husband.

Then, just as the old man was about to give up and return home empty-handed once again, he felt his net grow heavy. A wave of excitement shot through him as he started to haul it in towards the shore. It was very hard work. There must be dozens of fish inside it, he thought; at last I’m in luck! But when the net came out of the water, a great surprise awaited him. Instead of many fish wriggling about, all he saw was one tiny little fish, flopping about on the sand.

‘Please, sir, throw me back into the sea, I beg you,’ the fish gasped at the old man. ‘I am no ordinary fish, I promise you.’ And this was the truth, for the fish that he had caught was made of pure gold. The evening sun glittered on its fins and tail as it squirmed about helplessly.

At first, the old man thought to himself that he could sell the golden fish and live in comfort for the rest of his life. However, he had a kind heart. Gently, he picked up the beautiful, golden fish and threw it back into the sea. Then, heaving his net over his shoulder, he trudged off up the beach. Already he was thinking about what he would say to his wife when he returned home empty-handed.

‘Come back, old man!’ called a voice. There, standing on its tail in the sea, was the little golden fish. ‘You have saved my life,’ it said, ‘and now, because I have special gifts, I have the power to give you whatever

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Folklore

you want. What can I do for you? Name it and it shall be done. I owe you my life and will show my thanks by granting your every wish.’

The old man tried to think of the many things he would like to have, but all his thoughts were interrupted by the terrible hunger pangs in his stomach. The old man had had nothing to eat that day and hunger was gnawing at his insides. ‘Bread,’ he said. ‘Do you think we could have some bread, me and my poor wife? We are so hungry and I haven’t caught a fish in days.’

‘Of course,’ said the fish. ‘Go home. There is plenty of bread there. It will feed you both for a week.’

And it was true. As the old man approached his little hut, he could see there was something very different about it. The old man’s run-down fishing hut was bulging with loaves of bread, with buns and delicious sticky cakes, and, in the middle of it all, sat his wife, stuffing food into her mouth just as fast as she could. The old man approached his hut and squeezed inside. He couldn’t believe his eyes. That little fish had granted his wish. The old man took a piece of bread, sat down and began to eat.

‘I found a little gold fish down on the beach,’ he explained, ‘just a little one, you understand, nothing you could have made a meal of and, because I threw it back into the sea, it said it would give me anything I cared to name. So I thought that it would be a good idea if I asked it to give us some food.’

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Folklore

When the old woman heard what her husband had to say, her mouth dropped open. ‘You fool!’ she shrieked, giving her husband a kick on the leg. ‘I want more than that! For a start, your precious fish can smarten up this hut for us – it’s a disgrace! Now you must go back and tell him so, this minute. You tell him we want more.’

The poor old man wanted to make his wife happy and so he scuttled back to the beach and called out to the golden fish. ‘Little fish, little fish!’ he cried, and immediately the golden fish popped out of the waves and stood on its tail.

‘Forgive me, I know you granted my wish and gave us bread, for which I’m grateful, but my wife’s still not happy. Could we possibly have a few sticks of furniture for our hut and some new thatch, perhaps? The roof leaks badly. It’s a very old hut and I would like my wife to have a decent hut to live in.’

‘All shall be as you wish,’ said the fish. ‘Go home and you will see. I will give you a home that is far more luxurious.’

When he reached his hut, the old man thought he must be dreaming. It was no longer a run-down old fishing hut with a leaking thatch roof. Now, it was a pretty little cottage, with new thatch as yellow as butter, roses around the door and, inside, rooms full of pretty furniture and a soft feather bed on which his wife lay, snoring loudly.

‘At last she is happy,’ the old man said quietly to himself, as he started creeping away towards the beach to mend his nets.

But he was wrong, for within a few weeks, his wife was nagging him again. ‘This cottage is too small for us,’ she complained to her poor husband, ‘and I need someone to do the gardening for me. I just can’t stand getting my hands dirty with soil any more. You need to go back to that fish of yours and tell him that I want to live in the Lord Mayor’s house. In fact, I want to be the Lord Mayor. I’m so tired of having to do your housework for you. I want people to do housework for me, for a change.’

So, the old man went back to the fish and, though he was embarrassed to be back so soon, he called out, ‘Little fish, little fish! I’m so sorry, but my wife still isn’t happy. Now she wants to be the Lord Mayor and to live in his great house in town.’

‘Go home,’ said the fish. ‘She has what she wants.’

When the old man reached his cottage, he was shocked to find that it had vanished. Instead, there stood the Lord Mayor’s house with its rows

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Folklore

of gleaming windows and its great sweeps of green lawn. As he approached the house, he heard a voice much like his wife’s.

‘Be off with you!’ she yelled at her husband, who was still in his rags. Then she climbed into her carriage and rode off into town to do some shopping.

But she wasn’t content for very long. A few weeks later, she sent for her husband once more. ‘It’s all very well being the Lord Mayor,’ she said, ‘but it’s boring being stuck in this dirty little town, with these common people. I think I want to be queen. Go on, find that fish of yours and tell him what I want. And make sure it’s done immediately!’

The old man trembled. He was shocked and frightened by the change in his wife. ‘Wife,’ he began gently, ‘can you not be happy with what you have – first, a lovely cottage and, now, the Lord Mayor’s house? Surely you don’t need anything more. Already the golden fish has been very generous to us.’

‘I want to be queen!’ she screeched yet again. ‘I want to be –’

But the old man didn’t want to hear any more. He couldn’t believe how his wife had changed and, rather than upset her or make her mad, he rushed off to the seashore to find the golden fish.

When the fish heard what the old woman wanted this time, it gave a sigh. Nevertheless, it stood on its tail obligingly and sent him away with the promise that his wife should have all she asked.

When he reached town again, the Lord Mayor’s house had been replaced by a shimmering golden palace. Everywhere he looked there were servants, rushing here and there with dishes of food and armfuls of new clothes, all sent for by the very ugly new queen, who sat at the centre on a great golden throne, barking orders at everybody. The old man was ashamed. He crept away into the palace kitchen and sat with the servants. As the days passed, he began to dread the day when his wife would send for him again. He knew she would never be happy.

Sure enough, a few weeks later, the Lord Chancellor dragged him before his wife’s throne. ‘You,’ she said to the trembling old man, ‘get back to that fish of yours, and quickly, or I’ll have your head chopped off. Tell him I’m sick of being queen. It’s time I was the ruler of the world. That’s it, I’ll be Empress of the Seven Seas. Nobody’s more powerful than that.’

The old man didn’t argue. He was frightened of what his wife might do to him. She seemed to be going mad. Sick at heart, he dragged himself

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Folklore

down to the beach again. He couldn’t believe that he now had to ask this kind and gentle fish for another wish. When he got to the shore, he couldn’t find his voice – he was too embarrassed about what he now had to do. So he whispered his request in such a little voice that, at first, the fish couldn’t hear him.

‘Speak more loudly, old man. I can’t hear you!’ it called above the crashing waves.

‘I hate to ask you; you have done so much for us already and it seems we are never satisfied,’ the old man mumbled, ‘but, it’s my wife. She wants to be Empress of the Seven Seas now. She says being queen is not good enough.’

‘Very well,’ said the fish, ‘she is Empress. But tell her this: there is only one wish left. I advise her to think very carefully indeed before sending you here again.’

The old man thanked the golden fish, turned away and plodded back to the palace. It took him a long time, because it was now perched on top of a mountain made of glass. The palace was glass too and ten times bigger than the previous one, with hundreds more servants. There sat his wife, a golden telescope stuck to her eye, surveying the seven seas and purring loudly, like an enormous cat.

‘I have a message from the fish,’ the old man said boldly. ‘There is only one wish left and he wants you to think very carefully before you send me back again.’

The old woman dropped the telescope and the purring stopped abruptly. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘you can go back straight away.’

‘What do you want this time?’ her husband asked wearily. ‘Surely nothing is better than being Empress of the Seven Seas.’

‘I want to be God,’ she said.

With great terror in his heart, the old man stood once again on the seashore. ‘Little fish, little fish,’ he called, hoping that the creature would not hear him this time.

But a golden fin sliced through the water and there was the fish, as before.

‘She wants to be God,’ he whispered.

‘Go home, old man,’ said the fish. ‘That is not mine to give.’

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Folklore

So the old man went away. When he got home, he found that the great glass palace had been replaced by his smelly old fishing hut, with his wife sitting outside it, stirring a smoky fire.

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. What does the old man do for a living? 2. What does the fish offer to do for the old man? 3. What warning does the fish send the old man’s wife?B. Understanding the folktale Point of view: Who tells the story? Does the narrator sympathise

with the old man or his wife? To support your answer, refer to how the two characters are described.

Setting: Describe the different settings in the story. Why do the settings change? How do the various settings develop the theme?

Mood 1. How does the man’s mood change during the story? Why? 2. Describe the twist at the end of the tale. Characters and characterisation 1. Why does the old man throw the fish back? 2. Describe how the wife’s character changes during the story

and give reasons for these changes. 3. Describe the character of the fish. Support your answer with

evidence. Messages and themes: What is the theme of the story? How do

the two main human characters develop this theme?C. Language in context Show how a reader can guess the meaning of ‘toiled’ (in the first

paragraph) from the context of the paragraph.

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Folklore

The Magic of the Little Honeyguide by Nick Greaves

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Reeled in’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Write a reflective, narrative or descriptive essay: ‘The coward’.2. What is meant by the phrase ‘sibling rivalry’? Why are siblings

so often rivals?

Once, there were two brothers who left their village to go and hunt in the bush. Each of the brothers carried a length of rope, a bow and some arrows and each of them had a leather bag slung over his shoulder. They hoped to fill their leather bags with food for their family. It was not an easy journey. For a long time, they trudged along a sandy trail that led them from the village into the wild country, where only a few intrepid travellers and hunters would venture.

As they walked, they saw very little game. In fact, all they saw was the occasional snake that slithered across their path, the odd guinea fowl that darted into the long grass when it heard their footsteps and, here and there, a francolin that leapt, squawking, into the air from the grass at their feet.

Suddenly, after walking for hours, they came across a row of red clay pots. There was something strange about these pots: they were all standing upside down.

‘What do you think this means?’ asked the younger brother. ‘Who do you think would leave pots in a wild and deserted place such as this?’

‘Do not touch them,’ said the elder brother, concerned. ‘I do not like the look of these pots.’ He explained to his younger brother why he was nervous about the pots in the middle of nowhere. ‘I sense that there is magic about them and I think that we had better leave them alone.’

But the younger brother, who had always been the braver and more adventurous of the two, was intrigued by the red clay pots and he did not want to pass them by. He wanted to have a closer look and see if there was any clue as to whom these pots belonged, and what they were doing upside down in the middle of nowhere.

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Folklore

‘I am going to look beneath these pots, no matter what you say,’ said the younger of the two, as he bravely approached the pots. He bent down to peer beneath the pots. As he started to turn them over and stand them the right way up, his elder brother, who was very nervous, ran a distance away. He turned to watch his younger brother anxiously. He was not happy that his brother had not listened to him.

At first, as the pots were turned over, it seemed that there was no magic to them after all. But when the younger brother got to the last pot and turned it over, out jumped a little old woman. The boy gave a shout of surprise.

The old woman took no notice of the younger brother. She did not even thank him for releasing her from under the pot. Instead, she looked straight at the older brother and shouted at him, ‘Do not stand there shivering like a frightened buck! You need to follow me. I will show you a sight worth seeing.’

But the older brother was terrified and rooted to the ground by his fear. He would not even take one step toward her.

‘Coward!’ the old woman shouted at him again. She decided rather to turn to the younger brother. She commanded him to follow her. He was always keen for adventure and eagerly followed her. They walked for a while until, suddenly, she came to a halt in front of an enormous old tree. She picked up an axe, handed it to the boy and said, ‘Cut down this tree for me.’

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Folklore

The younger of the two brothers took the axe and began to cut down the tree. As the first stroke cut into the tree, out stepped a buck. The boy was amazed. He lifted the axe and struck the tree again. As the next stroke cut into the tree, out stepped a cow, then a goat, then a sheep. With each stroke of the axe, an animal appeared. Soon, huge herds of livestock and flocks of fowls surrounded him.

The boy was amazed and looked at the old woman. She looked back at him and spoke in a very commanding voice, ‘These are for you. You must now drive them back to your home. I will stay here.’

The younger brother was amazed, too amazed even to speak. Eventually, he recovered enough to thank the little old woman in the proper manner. He turned towards home and began to herd the animals. He drove the animals in front of him and soon he came to the place where he had left his timid, elder brother. His brother was still standing there, shocked and rooted to the ground, waiting.

He could not believe his eyes when he saw all the animals that his brother was driving in front of him.

‘Just look at what the old woman gave me!’ the younger brother exclaimed with jubilation. ‘Do you not wish that you had followed her as she asked you to?’

He told his older brother what had happened after he followed the old woman. And so, together, the two brothers began to drive the flocks and herds back towards their village.

As it was the middle of the dry season, the land was scorched and brown and there was not much water around. This meant that it was not long before the boys were thirsty and needed a drink. The animals cried out loudly, as they too were thirsty, and the land offered little for them to eat. But the brothers pushed on. Further along, they came to a precipice. The elder brother carefully looked over the edge.

He could not believe his eyes. He shouted, ‘Look! Water! Down there!’ and pointed to a sparkling stream wandering through lush, green trees. He turned to his younger brother, ‘If you tie a rope around me, you can lower me down so that I can drink my fill!’

The younger brother, although also thirsty, did as he was asked. As soon as his elder brother had finished drinking his fill from the sparkling pool below, the younger brother hauled him up. The older brother was now refreshed and a lot more cheerful.

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Folklore

Now it was the younger brother’s turn. ‘Now, brother, let me down on the rope,’ he said, and the elder brother did as he was asked. He let out the rope so that his younger brother could quench his thirst as well. But then an evil thought entered his head. He knew that once his brother was at the bottom of the valley, there was no way to climb back up without the rope. So he let go of the rope, allowing it to fall to the valley below, where his brother was now stranded.

Then he turned around and continued to drive the herds and flocks back to his village. He left his younger brother at the foot of the precipice to perish.

The elder brother found the journey home long and tedious. When he finally arrived home, his parents were surprised to see that his younger brother was not with him. They had not expected their sons home so soon and they had definitely not expected one son without the other.

The elder brother began to explain to his parents what had happened. ‘An old woman gave these animals to me.’ he lied.

His parents were distressed about their other son being missing. ‘But where is your brother?’ they asked, with great concern.

The elder brother pretended that he was surprised by his parents’ question. ‘Has he not returned?’ he asked. ‘My brother grew tired of the journey and he left me with the animals. He said he would come straight home. I have not seen him since midday,’ the elder brother continued, deceitfully.

Naturally, the younger brother did not come home that night. The two brothers’ parents were not too concerned, as they believed that he had probably changed his mind about coming home and had gone hunting instead. They knew that the younger brother was, after all, the more adventurous of the two brothers.

Early the following morning, the women from the village gathered to collect water from the nearby stream for the day’s cooking, cleaning and drinking. While they were by the stream, they heard the song of the helpful honeyguide, a bird that was known to lead people to beehives with his sweet song. He led the people there, always hoping that there would be some delicious scraps of leftover honeycomb when the people left.

The mother of the two brothers was delighted to hear the bird’s song and she rushed back to her husband in the village. She told him that he

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Folklore

should follow the honeyguide and gather some fresh honey for the family. And so the boys’ father, together with several other men from the village, set off to follow the honeyguide.

Every so often, the honeyguide would pause and sing his song, to allow the humans to catch up and then it would fly on. The men listened to the sweet song and they followed the honeyguide. Eventually, one of the men called to the other men, ‘I have gone far enough! I do not think that this honeyguide is leading us to honey.’ He sat down on a nearby rock and continued, ‘I am becoming weary, so I think that I will stop following it now and return home.’

At this, the honeyguide began to sing and chirp even louder. The bird became so frantic that the men from the village became puzzled.

The father of the two brothers said to the others, ‘It would almost seem as if the honeyguide is trying to tell us something. And this something seems very important. I think that we should follow the bird a little further.’

So the men decided to carry on following the bird. Eventually, they reached the precipice where the elder brother had left his younger brother to die. The bird had stopped singing now. The sound of its song was replaced by the faint sound, far below, of someone calling for help. The honeyguide was now flying to and fro excitedly. All of a sudden, it swooped down into the valley, where it landed at the boy’s feet.

The boy’s father leaned over the edge of the precipice to see where the bird had gone. He was straining to see where the faint voice had come from when he realised that down in the valley below was his younger son.

‘My son!’ he exclaimed. ‘That is the voice of my younger son!’ he cried to the other men.

Quickly, the men fashioned a rope from some lianas nearby. Very soon, they had hauled the boy out of the chasm. He told the men of his adventures.

‘What a terrible thing,’ wept the brothers’ father disbelievingly, ‘that I should have a son as wicked as your elder brother. You would have perished had it not been for the magic of the honeyguide that led us here.’

‘The boy must be punished,’ the men agreed angrily. ‘It was only greed that made him leave his brother here in this valley and pretend that the herds and flocks were actually his own.’

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Folklore

News of the younger brother’s rescue spread fast. It must have reached the village before the men had returned, as when they got back to the village with the younger brother, the elder brother was nowhere to be found. He had vanished from the village, never to be seen again.

The younger brother took care of his herds and flocks, and prospered as his herds and flocks increased. He was a good boy and grew into a good man. And he took care of his parents in their old age.

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. What do the brothers find in the wild country? 2. What happens after the old woman has been released? 3. How is the younger brother found and rescued?B. Understanding the folktale Reading: In pairs, read the first five paragraphs of the story out

loud. One learner is the narrator and the other reads the direct speech. Focus on clarity, tone and characterisation.

Characterisation 1. Where does the older brother show cowardice and greed?

Give evidence from the story. 2. Describe the younger brother’s character. Refer to the text to

support your answer. Theme: How do the characters of the two brothers develop the

main theme of the story?C. Language in context We are told that the younger brother is ‘the braver and more

adventurous of the two’. Copy the following table on degrees of comparison into your workbook and complete it:

Positive Comparative Superlativebrave braveradventurous more adventurousslow

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Folklore

The Rabbit and the Tortoise retold by Jennifer Gardner, Sylvanna Cheketri and Hayleen Nahman

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Winning ways’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activitiesRead the title and look at the illustration. Do you recognise the story? Can you retell it? If not, suggest what the story is about.

Once upon a time, there was a forest that was full of beautiful green trees, colourful blooming flowers and glistening blue pools of water.

In this forest, there lived an arrogant rabbit. Rabbit thought he was the best animal in the forest. He was convinced that he could laugh more loudly, hop higher and run faster than any of the other animals. Some of the animals did not really like Rabbit, because he was always boasting about how he grew the juiciest carrots and how he could win any race, against anyone. He was particularly boastful when he spoke to poor Tortoise and was always teasing him about how slowly Tortoise moved. Tortoise would become very angry with Rabbit.

‘Hello, Tortoise. My goodness, you walk sooooo fast! None of us would be able to catch up with you.’ Everyone listening could hear the sarcasm in Rabbit’s voice. ‘How long has it taken you to walk down this path? Two, three, maybe four weeks? Ha! Ha! Ha!’ Rabbit’s ears flopped up and down as he laughed wildly, looking around him for approval and admiration from the other animals. ‘I think we will have to call you “Mr Speedy” from now on,’ Rabbit went on, not noticing the changing expression on Tortoise’s face.

Tortoise was furious. He could not believe how rude Rabbit was. He thought of a plan to teach Rabbit a lesson.

‘Oh, so you think that I am slow, do you?’ Tortoise paused and looked up at Rabbit with a sly grin on his face. He was tired of this boastful bunny. ‘Why don’t you prove it? Why don’t we have a race?’

Rabbit could not believe his ears. He rolled on the floor, laughing hysterically. No animal had ever dared to challenge him before, and here was the slowest animal in the forest challenging him to a race! Rabbit was as arrogant as ever. He knew that there was no way Tortoise

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Folklore

could beat him in a race. Rabbit looked at Tortoise incredulously. ‘Beat me?’ he laughed loudly. ‘Beat me? Ha! Ha! Ha! Nobody can beat me!’

Rabbit shouted at the top of his voice, spreading his arms out to include the animals who had gathered around to hear what was happening between Rabbit and Tortoise. The ridiculousness of the situation was clear to all the gathered animals. All of them nodded their heads in agreement with Rabbit. Some animals shrugged their shoulders, wondering what madness had got into Tortoise.

The Hyena was cackling and the geese were gaggling as Rabbit continued, ‘Never in a million years could you or anyone else beat me in a race. I am much too fast for you all!’

‘Don’t laugh, Rabbit. Not until you win the race and prove that you are faster than I am.’ Tortoise made this sound like a challenge and Rabbit was up for it.

‘Proof? You want proof? Okay, you’re on. Let’s race!’

A sense of excitement ran through the crowd of animals, as plans were made for a race between Rabbit and Tortoise. No one had the slightest inkling that the slow-moving, laid-back tortoise could beat the very quick, jolly-jumping rabbit.

Zebra was chosen to start the race and Lion and Elephant were going to stand at the finish line. Wise old Owl was chosen to be the judge, though Rabbit didn’t think there was going to be any need for a judge.

On the chosen day, the weather was fine: a blue sky above and a slight breeze in the air. Tortoise and Rabbit met at the start and the other animals were there to watch the race.

‘Are you ready? Get set ... Go!’ Zebra shouted, as he dropped the red cloth from his mouth, signalling the start of the race.

In a flash, Rabbit was off the mark. He raced down the track, past the flowering shrubs and glistening pools, until he was almost at the finish line. Then he stopped, looked behind him and saw that he had a big lead. Tortoise was nowhere to be seen!

‘Ha! I can’t even see Tortoise, he’s so far behind!’ laughed Rabbit. ‘There’s no way that silly tortoise can beat me. It’s so hot today and I’m so far in front, I think I will just take a little nap here, on the lush grass ... I’ve got plenty of time.’

And so Rabbit went to lie down on the lush, green grass, under the shade of a big marula tree.

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Meanwhile, far back, Tortoise continued on his journey towards the finish line. He was moving slowly but surely towards the end. The animals who had gathered to watch the race cheered Tortoise on his way. They didn’t want him to feel bad about losing to Rabbit. So they encouraged him just to labour on and not give up.

‘Go, Tortoise! Go!’ shouted Ostrich, as Tortoise slowly walked on by.

‘Yay, Tortoise! You really are the best!’ screeched the playful monkeys from the treetops, from which they were watching the race. They had seen Rabbit pass by a long time ago.

Owl hooted, ‘Come on, Tortoise! Come on! You can do it!’ He wasn’t sure if he believed this, but he didn’t want Tortoise to give up.

Even grumpy Warthog, who had been woken from his afternoon siesta, poked his head out of his hole to encourage Tortoise. ‘Tortoise, go! Tortoise! Tortoise! Go ... Go ... Go!’ he cheered.

Meanwhile, Rabbit was having sweet dreams about carrots and cabbage patches. In his dreams, he saw Tortoise walking very slowly towards him, and he awoke with a start. He walked back onto the track and looked towards the starting line. He was so far from the place where they had started that he could not even see it (not even with his excellent eyesight). He could not see any sign of Tortoise on the track either. ‘Oh well, I’ll just rest for a little longer. I’m still so tired and it’s so hot. I probably have a little more time before Tortoise approaches.’

But he was wrong. Tortoise was not as far behind him as he had thought. Tortoise just kept on going towards the finish line. He smiled graciously at Pelican, who had stored some water in her beak’s pouch for him. He was feeling hot and tired, but knew he had to keep going. He was determined to teach that boastful, arrogant Rabbit a lesson. He was still upset with Rabbit for taunting him and making him feel bad about being so slow.

The other animals admired Tortoise’s spirit and determination. Despite being the underdog, he was not giving up.

And so the sun moved through the sky and the afternoon drew on. Rabbit slept peacefully and when he woke up, he felt refreshed and ready to cross the finish line. Once again, he looked behind him to see if there was any sign of Tortoise. ‘I have to admit, I knew I would win this race easily,’ he said to himself, ‘but this is ridiculous; still no sign of that slow coach.’ He giggled as he said, ‘What was he thinking? Challenging me to a race …’

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Folklore

Then Rabbit heard a strange sound. It sounded like cheering, but it couldn’t possibly be, as there was no way Tortoise could have passed him. It just wasn’t possible. As he turned towards the finish line to see where the cheering was coming from, he could not believe his eyes.

‘Oh, no! No! No!’ he yelped, as he blinked his eyes open and shut, open and shut. ‘This can’t be happening – Tortoise is nearly at the finish line!’ He darted forward. ‘I must get there first or I’ll lose the race! I must get there first; I must get there first! I must get there first or I’ll lose the race!’ he repeated in disbelief. ‘How could I have let this happen?’ he asked no one in particular. ‘I must win! I must win!’

Rabbit mustered up all his strength and raced with all his might towards the finish line. As he approached, he could hear the other animals’ cheering getting louder and louder. He ran as fast as he could. But, to his dismay, he was too late. He could now hear what the other animals were saying as they cheered and cheered in unison.

‘Hooray! Hooray for Tortoise!’ squeaked the little field mice, as they held up a banner that read ‘TORTOISE IS OUR HERO!’

Even the snakes were there. They slithered up to the finish line, hissing, ‘Tortoissse, Tortoissssse, he’sss the bessst!’ as their tongues flicked in and out of their mouths.

‘You did it! You really, really did it!’ the lions roared, as they all came up to pat Tortoise on his shell. They really were proud of him; he had persevered and, in so doing, showed that hard work always pays off.

Even the bats had given up their daytime nap to watch the race and they were very pleased to see Tortoise cross the finish line in front of that arrogant Rabbit. ‘Good for you, Tortoise! You really showed that lazy Rabbit that we should never be too smug about anything, because we never really know what’s going to happen.’

Rabbit was furious. He stamped his big back leg on the ground, his ears drooped and he was weeping. ‘It’s not fair! It’s just not fair!’ he cried. He looked around him at all the animals gathered at the finish line and shouted, ‘I’m much faster than he is! Much, much faster!’

Wise old Owl was standing on a log at the finish line. ‘Sorry, Rabbit. You lose,’ he hooted in his deep, resonant voice. ‘That just proves that someone who tries hard and who keeps trying, even when things are difficult and it seems as if there is no chance, will always win in the end!’

The animals decided to have a party in honour of Tortoise’s victory and also to celebrate a lesson well learnt.

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Folklore

‘Let’s have a party! Come on, everyone. Come on, Rabbit. We are all winners in the end!’

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. Why do many of the animals in this story not like Rabbit? 2. Who supports Tortoise during the race? 3. What is Rabbit doing for most of the race?B. Understanding the folktale Characterisation: Discuss Rabbit’s unpleasant qualities and

Tortoise’s good qualities. Give evidence from the text. Theme: What is the moral of this story? Mood 1. How does Rabbit’s mood change when he sees he will lose? 2. How do you think he reacts at the end when he is invited to

join the celebrations? Give a reason for your answer. Genre and writing: This story might be called a fable. A

common type of fable is the beast fable, in which animals talk and behave like the human types they represent. Choose a simple moral for a Grade 7 class. Write your own animal fable to illustrate this moral.

C. Language in context 1. In the story, the hyena cackles and the geese gaggle. What

figure of speech is used in ‘cackle’ and ‘gaggle’? 2. What sounds do zebras, owls and tortoises make? 3. What is a ‘slow coach’? Suggest where the idiom comes from.

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Folklore

New Life in Kyerefaso by Efua Theodora Sutherland

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Social media’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Find Ghana on a map of Africa. Research this African country,

focusing on the different ethnic groups and their folklore.2. In your culture, who decides whom a man or woman will

marry? Prepare a short, informative speech on this topic.

Shall we say –

Shall we put it this way?

Shall we say that the maid of Kyerefaso, Foruwa, daughter of the Queen Mother, was a young deer, graceful in limb? Such was she, with head held high, eyes soft and wide with wonder. And she was light of foot, light in all her moving.

Stepping springily along the water path like a deer that has strayed from the thicket, springily stepping along the water path, she was a picture to give the eye a feast. And nobody passed her by without turning to look at her again.

Those of her village said that her speech was like the murmur of a river quietly flowing beneath shadows of bamboo leaves. They said her smile would sometimes blossom like a lily on her lips and sometimes rise like a sunrise.

The butterflies do not fly away from the flowers; they draw near. Foruwa was the flower of her village.

So shall we say –


Shall we say that all the village butterflies, the men, tried to draw near her at every turn, crossed and crossed her path? Men said of her, ‘She shall be my wife, and mine, and mine, and mine.’

But suns rose and set, moons silvered and died and, as the days passed, Foruwa grew more lovesome, yet she became no one’s wife. She smiled at the butterflies and waved her hand lightly to greet them as she went swiftly about her daily work.

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And so they said, even while their hearts thumped for her, ‘Proud! Foruwa is proud ... and very strange.’

And so the men, when they gathered, would say, ‘There goes a strange girl. She is not just a stiff-in-the-neck proud, not just a breasts-stuck-out I-am-the-only-girl-in-the-village proud. What kind of pride is hers?’

The end of the year came round again, bringing the season of festivals. For the gathering in of maize, yams and cocoa, there were harvest celebrations. There were bride-meetings too. And it came to the time when the Asafo companies should hold their festival. The village was full of manly sounds, loud musketry and swelling choruses.

The path-finding, path-clearing ceremony came to an end. The Asafo marched on toward the Queen Mother’s house, the women fussing round them, prancing round them, spreading cloths on their path.

‘Osee!’ rang the cry. ‘Osee!’ to the manly men of old. They crouched like leopards upon the branches. They were upright. They sprang. They sprang. They sprang upon the enemy. But now, blood no more! No more thundershot on thundershot.

‘But still we are the leopards on the branches. We are those who roar and cannot be answered back. Beware, we are they who cannot be answered back.’

There was excitement outside the Queen Mother’s courtyard gate.

‘Gently, gently,’ warned the Asafo leader. ‘Here comes the Queen Mother.’

And the Queen Mother stood there, tall, beautiful, before the men, and there was silence.

‘What news? What news do you bring?’ she quietly asked.

‘We come with dusty brows from our path-finding, Mother. We come with tired, thorn-pricked feet. We come to bathe in the coolness of your peaceful stream. We come to offer our manliness to new life.’

The Queen Mother stood there, tall and beautiful and quiet. Her fan-bearers stood by her and all the women clustered near. One by one, the men laid their guns at her feet and then she said, ‘It is well. The gun is laid aside. The gun’s rage is silenced in the stream. Let your weapons from now on be your minds and your hands’ toil. Come, maidens, women all, join the men in dance, for they offer themselves to new life.’

There was one girl who did not dance.

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Folklore

‘What, Foruwa?’ urged the Queen Mother. ‘Will you not dance? The men are tired of parading in the ashes of their grandfathers’ glorious deeds. That should make you smile. They are tired of the empty croak: “We are men; we are men.” They are tired of sitting like vultures upon the rubbish heaps they have piled upon the half-built walls of their grandfathers. Smile, then, Foruwa, smile. Their brows shall now indeed be dusty, their feet thorn-pricked, and “I love my land” shall cease to be the empty croaking of a vulture upon the rubbish heap. Dance, Foruwa, dance.’

Foruwa opened her lips and this was all she said, ‘Mother, I do not find him here.’

‘Whom? Whom do you not find here?’

‘He with whom this new life shall be built. He is not here, Mother. These men’s faces are empty; there is nothing in them, nothing at all.’

‘Alas, Foruwa, alas, alas! What will become of you, my daughter?’

‘The day I find him, Mother, the day I find the man, I shall come running to you and your worries will come to an end.’

‘But, Foruwa, Foruwa,’ argued the Queen Mother, although in her heart she understood her daughter, ‘five years ago, your rites were fulfilled. Where is the child of your womb? Your friend Maanan married. Your friend Esi married. Both had their rites with you.’

‘Yes, Mother, they married and see how their steps, once lively, now drag in the dust. The sparkle has died out of their eyes. Their husbands drink palm wine the day long under the mango trees, drink palm wine and push counters across the draughtboards all the day, and are they not already looking for other wives? Mother, the man, I say, is not here.’

This conversation had been overheard by one of the men and soon the others heard what Foruwa had said. From that time onward, there were some in the village who turned their backs on Foruwa when she passed.

Shall we say –


Shall we say that a day came when Foruwa, with hurrying feet, came running to her Mother? She burst through the courtyard gate and there she stood in the courtyard, joy all over. And a stranger walked in after her and stood in the courtyard beside her, stood tall and strong as a pillar. Foruwa said to the astonished Queen Mother, ‘Here he is, Mother. Here is the man.’

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Folklore

The Queen Mother took a slow look at the stranger, standing there strong as a forest tree, and she said, ‘You carry the light of wisdom on your face, my son. Greetings. You are welcome. But who are you, my son?’

‘Greetings, Mother,’ replied the stranger quietly. ‘I am a worker. My hands are all I have to offer your daughter, for they are all my riches. I have travelled to see how men work in other lands. I have that knowledge and my strength. That is my story.’

Shall we say –


Strange as the story is, Foruwa was given in marriage to the stranger.

There was rage in the village and many openly mocked her, saying, ‘Now the proud one eats dust.’

Yet, shall we say –


That soon, quite soon, the people of Kyerefaso began to take notice of the stranger in quite a different way.

‘Who,’ some said, ‘is this who has come among us? He who mingles sweat and song, he for whom toil is joy and life is full and abundant?’

‘See,’ said others, ‘what a harvest the land yields under his ceaseless care.’

‘He has taken the earth and moulded it into bricks. See what a home he has built, how it graces the village where it stands.’

‘Look at the craft of his fingers, baskets or kente, stool or mat; that man makes them all.’

‘And our children swarm about him, gazing at him with wonder and delight.’

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Then it did not satisfy them any more to sit all day at their draughtboards under the mango trees.

‘See what Foruwa’s husband has done,’ they declared. ‘Shall the sons of the land not do the same?’

And, soon, they began to seek out the stranger in order to talk to him. Soon, they too were toiling. Their fields began to yield as never before and the women laboured joyfully to bring in the harvest. A new spirit stirred in the village. As the carelessly built houses disappeared one by one and new homes, built after the fashion of the stranger’s, grew up, it seemed as if the village of Kyerefaso had been born afresh.

The people themselves became more alive and a new pride possessed them. They were no longer just grabbing from the land what they desired for their stomachs’ present hunger and for their present comfort. They were looking at the land with new eyes, feeling it in their blood, and thoughtfully building a permanent and beautiful place for themselves and their children.

‘Osee!’ It was festival time again. ‘Osee! Blood no more. Our fathers found for us the paths. We are the road-makers. They bought for us the land with their blood. We shall build it with our strength. We shall create it with our minds.’

Following the men were the women and children. On their heads, they carried every kind of produce that the land had yielded and crafts that their fingers had created. Green plantains and yellow bananas were carried by the bunch in large white wooden trays. Garden eggs, tomatoes and red oil-palm nuts, warmed by the sun, were piled high in black earthen vessels. Oranges, yams and maize filled shining brass trays and golden calabashes. Here and there were children proudly carrying colourful mats, baskets and toys that they themselves had made.

The Queen Mother watched the procession gathering on the new village playground, now richly green from recent rains. She watched the people palpitating in a massive dance toward her where she stood with her fan-bearers outside the royal house. She caught sight of Foruwa. Her load of charcoal in a large brass tray, which she had adorned with red hibiscus, danced with her body. Happiness filled the Queen Mother when she saw her daughter thus.

Then she caught sight of Foruwa’s husband. He was carrying a white lamb in his arms and he was singing happily with the men. She looked on him with pride. The procession had approached the royal house.

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Folklore

‘See!’ rang the cry of the Asafo leader. ‘See how the best in all the land stands. See how she stands waiting, our Queen Mother. Waiting to wash the dust from our brow in the coolness of her peaceful stream. Spread skins of the gentle sheep on her path, gently, gently. Spread the yield of the land before her, gently, gently.

‘Lightly, lightly walks our Queen Mother, for she is peace.’

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. Why do the men of the village want to marry Foruwa? 2. Describe the man she marries. 3. Describe the changes that take place in the village after her

marriage.B. Understanding the folktale The structure of the story 1. Conflict: Describe the conflict between Foruwa and her

mother and between Foruwa and the villagers. 2. Climax: How do the villagers react to Foruwa’s marriage? 3. Resolution: How is the conflict resolved? Describe and

account for (explain) the mood at the end of the story. Theme: What message does this story have for girls and young

women in our society? Writing: Imagine you are the stranger. Write a persuasive speech

addressed to the village men just after your arrival. Convey a clear social message and a vision for the future.

C. Language in context Identify the figures of speech in the following, and discuss their

effectiveness: 1. Foruwa was the flower of her village. 2. They [the manly men of old] crouched like leopards upon the

branches. 3. The gun’s rage

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Folklore

The Girl who Wanted Dawn’s Dress by Ngangar Mbitu and Ranchor Prime

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Working it out’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Can you imagine anyone choosing to eat dung? Explain.2. Discuss the use of figurative language in the title of the story.

A beautiful young girl once lived with her elderly aunt in a village beside a beautiful lake. Because she was so beautiful, many of the young men in the village wanted to win her hand in marriage. This young girl really was beautiful, but she was also very proud. Whenever one of the young men asked for her hand in marriage, she replied disdainfully, ‘Oh, I will definitely marry one day, but I will only marry the man who can bring me the red dress of dawn.’

‘Where are we going to find the red dress of dawn?’ The young men looked at each other, with confusion in their eyes. None of them knew what kind of magic was required to get the red dress of the dawn, so they all had to go away, disappointed.

One day, a young man from another village approached her with more than usual determination.

‘I am here to ask for your hand in marriage,’ this young man said, as he knelt down in front of the beautiful young girl. Others looked on as he took her hand in his. When she gave him her usual bride-price, he thought about what to do.

‘He will walk away empty-handed!’ the villagers sneered.

But this young man was not like the other young men from the village – he was wise and determined.

‘I came to win this girl’s hand in marriage and that is what I intend to do,’ he mumbled to himself as he stood up and began to walk away.

He decided not to return to his own village straight away. He watched the girl closely and noticed that she was very close to her elderly aunt, with whom she lived.

The girl’s aunt was a wise woman and she knew her niece well, so he decided to ask her for help in winning her niece’s hand in marriage.

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Folklore

First, however, the young man set about befriending the old woman and gaining her trust.

Now, she was a curious old woman, even more wilful than the girl, and it was her habit to eat only dung instead of solid food. In front of her hut a pile of dung was always to be found, causing quite a smell, and people in the village were quite rude about it. The young man, however, took no notice of this. When he went to see her, he greeted her in the most polite way possible.

‘Hello, young man. It is kind of you to speak to me. Please do me a favour. I have to go to the fields to pick their fruits.’ She meant she was going to gather more dung. ‘While I am gone, can you please wait here and guard my food?’ As she said this, she pointed to the dung heap before her hut and left.

[

The young man patiently sat in front of the hut, watching over the old woman’s food. The smell was unpleasant, but he comforted himself by thinking about all the dangers and hardships he had endured in the bush while he was hunting. Now, he was seeking a far greater prize, so should he not be prepared to put up with some little difficulties?

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Folklore

While he was waiting, it began to rain, so he moved inside for shelter. Then he realised that if it carried on, the rain would wash away the pile of dung. He had been asked to guard it and he thought to himself that he could not just sit there and allow it to be washed away – the old woman would be most upset. So, although the bad smell disgusted him, he used his bare hands to carry it, handful by handful, inside the hut and out of the rain.

Just as he finished this task, the woman returned. Seeing what he had done, she was very pleased with him.

‘No one else even speaks a polite word to me,’ she told him, with a little sadness in her voice. ‘But you have been polite and kind, and now you have gone to great lengths to look after my food. Let me do something for you. I will prepare you a meal – something that you will like. What is your favourite dish, young man?’ she asked him, expectantly.

So, the elderly aunt cooked the young man a dish that was considered a special delicacy in those parts: millet with ants. As he ate, she came and sat down beside him. Then she asked, ‘Why have you come to my hut to see me, young man?’

He said, ‘Aunty, I have been watching you with your beautiful niece.’ He put some food in his mouth and chewed carefully as she watched him and waited to hear what he had to say. ‘I want to ask you for some advice on how I can woo the most beautiful girl in your village.’ He looked down at the aunt as she was sitting on the floor beside him.

‘Normally, I wouldn’t tell a young man this, but you have been very considerate and kind to me. So I will tell you what to do.’ She paused for a long while. ‘Go and ask the beautiful young girl to sleep next to you tonight. Tell her that she should sleep by your feet and you will sleep by her feet – then she will agree to this. In the morning, when the cock crows, give her this unground millet and tell her to make porridge from it. She will do her best to obey you and then you will know what to say.’

Overjoyed, the young man went and found the girl and asked her to sleep next to him, as the old lady had advised. The girl agreed. So they spent the night, side by side, her by his feet and he by hers. As the cock crowed, he got up and gave the millet to the girl.

‘I want you to make me some porridge,’ he said, as he handed her the millet.

‘But this millet is unground – I will need flour,’ she protested.

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Folklore

‘In my village, the women make porridge from millet like this. If you are clever, you will be able to do it.’ He watched her face as he said this and he saw that she was thinking about what he was saying.

So, she tried to cook porridge, but found it impossible. Thoughts were racing around in her head as she watched the unground porridge in the pot, but nothing was happening. Perplexed, she went back to the young man just as the sun was rising into a red sky.

‘I can’t do it – you show me how,’ she said, pleading with him to advise her.

‘Ah,’ the young man grinned smugly, ‘so you admit that you cannot do it, and no wonder. The women of my village cannot do it either – they grind the millet first, just like everyone else. Yet, you demand that I get you the red dress of dawn – tell me, how am I going to do that? Can you show me?’

She knew then, staring into this young man’s eyes, that he was wise and gentle and kind, and that he would make a very good husband.

‘I ... I have nothing to say,’ she stammered, surprised by his wit. ‘I don’t know how it is to be done. Your words are true. You have outwitted me. I promise I will marry you.’

The young man could not believe what he had just heard. He was ecstatic and could not wait to tell her aunt and everyone else in the village.

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. What task does the girl set the men who ask to marry her? 2. Why does the aunt help the young man? 3. What does the aunt tell the young man to do? 4. How does the young man outwit the girl?B. Understanding the folktale Character 1. How does the young man show the aunt that he is kind? 2. Why does the girl set her suitors an impossible task? Themes: What themes are developed through the character of

the young man?C. Language in context The verb ‘befriend’ in the story means to become someone’s

friend. We use the prefix ‘be-’ (meaning to make or cause) to turn

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Folklore

a noun or an adjective into a verb. Use the following verbs in sentences of your own: becalm, belittle.

D. Compare the folktales Both Foruwa in the previous story and the girl in this story are

accused of being proud. In small groups, discuss whether they are proud in a way the reader approves or disapproves of, and whether they are proud in the same way.

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Folklore

The Testimony of the Fly retold by Mai Vo-Dinh

This folktale links to the theme, ‘In an instant’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activities1. Collect some examples of riddles. Tell one to your classmates.2. What is ‘testimony’ and where might a person hear it?

Once, in Vietnam, there was a farmer who worked very hard to grow his own crops and feed his family. But, one year during a drought, he had no rice and no savings left. He knew he had to do something or his family would starve. So he went to Tung Nguyen, the village moneylender, and asked if he could borrow a sum of money, saying that he would pay him back at the next harvest. The moneylender told the farmer that if he didn’t repay the loan by then, he would have to forfeit his farm and give everything to the moneylender. The farmer did not want to do this, but he knew that he had no choice. To survive this season, he had to agree.

Tung Nguyen gave the farmer the sum he needed. He grumbled when he handed over the coins, but secretly he was glad. Tung Nguyen was sure that he would soon own another piece of property, in the same way as he had gained others before. By this time, the moneylender was so well off that he didn’t have to work at all, but he was always looking for more property to own.

The farmer worked as hard as he could in his fields to ensure that his crops grew well. He hoped his harvest would bring in enough money so that he could repay Tung Nguyen. His wife and small son helped him. They all worked very, very hard.

After the drought, the farmer’s harvest improved, but he certainly did not have enough to pay back all that he owed to the moneylender. The date of the payment was fast approaching.

One morning, the farmer and his wife set out to see what they could do to earn some money. They left their son, a little boy of eight years old, to watch the farm while they were away.

A little while later, Tung Nguyen, who was impatient to make his demands and take the farm from the farmer, walked through the front gate of the farm. The farmer and his wife were nowhere to be seen, but the small boy was there, playing with stones.

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‘Ahem,’ said the moneylender, who had a deep, croaky voice. ‘Where are your parents? I’ve come to collect my debt.’

The small boy looked up. ‘Oh, my parents aren’t here,’ he said.

‘Where are they, then?’ enquired Tung Nguyen. ‘They knew I would be coming to collect my debt. Are they running away from me?’

‘My father has gone to cut live trees and plant dead ones, and my mother has gone to sell the wind and buy the moon.’

Tung Nguyen stopped in his tracks. ‘What do you mean by those words?’ He was irritated by this annoying little boy who was speaking in riddles. But the boy only looked up and slowly repeated what he had just said.

The moneylender shook the bamboo stick he was carrying in the boy’s face. ‘You had better tell me what you mean or there will be trouble for you!’ His eyes were open wide and spittle was forming in the corners of his mouth.

The boy only repeated the phrase. Finally, the moneylender said, ‘I must know what you mean by those words. Tell me now – let heaven and earth be my witness – and I will cancel the debt your father owes me.’

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Folklore

The boy looked up. ‘All of it?’ he asked.

‘All of it,’ said Tung Nguyen, who was desperate to understand what the boy was talking about.

‘But sir, heaven and earth cannot speak; they cannot bear witness. I will tell you only if you let a living thing bear witness.’ The boy was wise beyond his years. He knew that people often made promises that they did not keep. He knew that Tung Nguyen was especially greedy and would not hesitate to say that he, the young boy, was telling lies.

The moneylender was getting impatient and, besides, he had no intention of keeping his promise. He looked around, irritated, to see if he could find any living thing to bear witness to this deal. All he saw was a fly buzzing nearby. When the fly landed on his bamboo stick, the village moneylender said, ‘Very well, let the fly be our witness.’ He was trying to trick the young boy into telling him what the riddle meant. ‘And now, will you tell me what you mean by saying that your father is cutting down live trees and planting dead ones, and that your mother is selling the wind to buy the moon?’

The young boy stared for a moment at the fly, calmly resting on top of the greedy moneylender’s bamboo pole.

‘Very well, I guess that a fly is as good a witness as any. I will tell you now what I mean, since I know you will keep your promise. My father went to cut down trees and make a fence with them for a neighbour, so he could earn some money to help pay our debt. Does that not mean that he has cut down live trees and planted dead ones? My mother went to sell fans so that she could buy oil for our lamps. Is that not selling the wind to buy the moon?’

The rich man shook his head and left, thinking that the boy was a clever one – too bad that in a few days he and his family would be homeless.

The next day, Tung Nguyen came back and this time the farmer and his wife were there. He demanded his payment. The farmer begged for a delay. The greedy moneylender refused. Hearing the argument, the little boy rushed up to his father and pulled on his sleeve, desperately trying to get his father’s attention.

‘Father, Father,’ he cried, ‘you don’t have to pay any more! Tung Nguyen was here yesterday and he promised that he would cancel our debts.’

The boy told his father what had happened the day before when his parents were not there and the moneylender had visited. ‘He promised,

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Father, he promised! And he made this promise in front of a fly – that was the only living thing we could find to bear witness to our deal.’

Of course, the moneylender denied ever having said such a thing, but the boy insisted. There was nothing to do but bring the matter before a mandarin scholar, the town judge. Although the boy was young, and the moneylender continued to say he was telling stories, the boy was well known in the village. He was not known to be one who told stories.

The farmer, his wife, their eight-year-old son and the moneylender Tung Nguyen went to the mandarin scholar. The moneylender spoke in a soft, very convincing voice and the boy told his side of the story too. The judge listened to what each had to say.

Then he turned to the young boy. ‘You say that the moneylender, Tung Nguyen, promised he would cancel the debt, but how do we know you didn’t just make the whole story up? You have no witnesses to prove it.’

‘Your Honour,’ said the boy, ‘there was a witness. It was a fly.’

‘A fly!’ roared the judge, disbelievingly. ‘What are you talking about? Even from a child, we won’t tolerate nonsense in this court.’

The judge was right. There were no witnesses. What could the boy say about the fly to prove his story was true?

The boy looked at his parents, then turned again to face the judge. ‘Yes, there was a fly,’ said the child. ‘He was there the whole time, sitting on the moneylender’s nose.’

‘Why, that’s ridiculous,’ Tung Nguyen said as he jumped up. ‘That fly wasn’t sitting on my nose. He was sitting on my bamboo pole ...’

But he stopped himself before saying another word. For, of course, now he had confessed everything.

The mandarin judge laughed. ‘Sometimes,’ he said, ‘even the smallest creature can bear witness, but it takes a child to prove it! The court rules that you must cancel the debt, as you promised.’

And so the farmer and his wife returned home with their son. They lived there and prospered for many years. And when the boy grew up and had his own children, he told them that the farm would be theirs too – all because of the testimony of a fly.

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ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. What are the conditions of the loan given to the farmer? 2. What promise does Tung Nguyen make? 3. How does the child trick Tung Nguyen into telling the truth?B. Understanding the folktale 1. Describe the character of Tung Nguyen, commenting on his

treatment of the farmer and of the child. 2. How is the riddle central to the climax of the story?

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How Fire was Discovered – A Tswana tale, retold by Nick Greaves

This folktale links to the theme, ‘Fear of frying’, in the Learner’s Book.

Pre-reading activitiesFind one myth that is part of your culture and tell it to the class.

The BaTswana tribe will tell you that when the first man lived on the Earth, he was unaware of the power of fire or even how fire was made. Man was, in fact, unaware of its existence.

In the beginning, all he ate were the roots, bulbs and fruit provided by Mother Nature in the bush that surrounded him. If he ate any meat, he ate it raw. However, most of the time, he relied on one of the greater gifts provided by Modimo – the ‘Hidden One’, as they called the Creator – which was cow’s milk. Milk was the daily drink of both young and old.

There was little to trouble Man, for the sun kept him warm by day and animal skins kept him warm by night. In the beginning, the weather did not vary much between summer and winter and the climate was not as extreme as it can be today. Life was good and Man felt most fortunate indeed.

But it came to pass that one day dawned much colder than usual. The clouds were thick in the sky. Man gathered up his spear and decided to go off in search of food. He travelled far, much further than he usually went. All the landmarks were new to him and there was an eerie silence surrounding him. He paused to listen. This stillness was unfamiliar, so he scanned the countryside ahead of him until he saw a tall, thin cloud slowly spiralling up into the heavens.

‘This is most strange,’ he thought to himself. ‘Never before have I seen such a sight. Clouds do not go straight upwards. This one seems to come out of the very Earth itself! I must find out what this is.’

He approached the place of the cloud slowly, in awe and with reverence. The nearer he got, the more intriguing the sight became. Finally, he found, on the threshold of a cave, a fire burning cheerfully. All the while, there rose from this fire a thin wisp of smoke. It rose up into the sky.

Good manners were natural to Man, so he greeted the fire civilly. ‘Good day to you, stranger,’ he said. ‘I have lived in this land since the day of

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Creation, since all creatures drew their first breath, but I have never seen or heard of your kind before. Pray tell me, to whom do I speak?’

‘I return your courteous greeting, Two-Legged One,’ replied Fire pleasantly. ‘I am one of Modimo’s many servants. Come nearer, for the day is cold. You are welcome to warm yourself in my smile.’

Man moved closer to the fire, and his cold body was at once comforted by the heat that warmed him on the side closest to the flame. He sat down on his haunches for a while to enjoy the good company of the stranger, and the two chatted away for some time. As Man became warmer, his feeling of contentment grew. He thought how pleasant it would be if his new friend would visit his home, so that his wife and children could experience the pleasure that radiated from this unusual friend.

He was even beginning to hope, secretly, that he could keep this friend forever.

So, before he left, Man extended an invitation to Fire to visit him at his home. He promised Fire a kindly welcome, not only from himself, but from his wife, children and friends in his village too. But, to his great disappointment, his new friend declined his invitation. However, Fire assured Man that he would receive him in the same cordial and warm way, should Man come to visit him again in future.

Man returned home full of wonder and excitement at what he had seen and experienced. He could not wait to tell his family and friends about his adventure.

‘He was beautiful beyond description,’ he told his wife. ‘He wore a red and yellow wrap; his laughter crackled; many little stars drifted upwards from the ever-changing shape of his mouth.’ His excitement was evident in his tone as he painted a picture for his family and friends, who had gathered around to hear all about his adventure. ‘But you should have seen his breath! It gathered like a cloud that never stopped rising to the heavens, but, when the breeze blew some of it towards me, I could not stop coughing. How he laughed at that!’

‘Husband, I am filled with great curiosity to see this wonderful creature. Can you not bring him to visit us?’

Man told his wife that Fire had refused his invitation, but he promised he would try again. He set off to speak to his new friend, but again Fire declined his invitation. He returned on many occasions to further his friendship with this wonderful creature. But each time he requested the

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pleasure of Fire’s company, Fire found some reason to excuse himself from returning with Man to his village.

And each time Man returned from his visits, he had new wonders to tell of. Eventually, his wife and children were begging so desperately to see this wondrous friend that Man had tears in his eyes the next time he visited Fire. Worried, Fire asked what the matter was.

‘Why,’ Man pleaded, ‘do you continue to refuse my offers of hospitality? Am I not your friend?’

‘Yes, you are indeed my friend,’ Fire assured him, ‘and it hurts me to refuse your wish. You must bear with me and be patient if I seem ungracious. The truth is that I am frightened to leave my home, for, whenever I do, a trail of destruction follows me.’

‘That would be nothing compared to the joy that your presence would give to my wife and children,’ Man assured him.

So, after a great deal of persuasion and hesitation, a day was finally set for Fire to visit the village. Man was overjoyed and ran all the way back home to give his family the great news.

When the momentous day arrived, the whole village was in an uproar of excitement and a delicious feast was prepared in honour of their guest. Everything was made ready many hours beforehand.

Fire left his cave in a quiet, orderly manner, but, as he made his way along the pathway, which had by now become worn, between his home and that of his human friend, his fingers brushed against the tinder-dry grass that grew all along the path. They fed the grass into his ever-hungry mouth. As he went, he grew in stature and, as he grew, so did his hunger.

From the grass along the path, the snatching fingers grasped the nearby bushes and these were also fed to the hungry mouth. Soon the bushes proved too small, so Fire fed on trees. As he progressed, so he grew even larger. And as he grew, a wind sprang up behind him to speed him on his way. Soon, the whole countryside was ablaze.

In the distance, Man and his family, waiting in their hut, glimpsed the quiet departure of Fire from his home, his presence a small plume of smoke rising into the sky.

‘My friend comes!’ cried Man, excitedly. ‘See, that is his breath, just as I told you. Soon you will see how truly beautiful he is. Look how he dances on his way. He is happy to be visiting us.’

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But as the clouds of smoke began to billow up into the heavens in dense plumes, the scene became more ominous. Birds flew past in terror, trying to escape the pursuing flames. Antelope with heaving sides fled to escape the scorching blaze. All tried to run from this monster that they did not understand. Even Man’s precious cows began to low in distress and soon fled for their lives with their calves. Man and his family listened in fear to the mighty roar of the fire as it bore down upon them.

‘Husband!’ cried his wife, now terrified. ‘Are you sure that your friend means us no harm? See how your children cower in fear.’

‘I, too, am afraid,’ said Man, ‘for I have never seen Fire in such a mood!’

Man ran out towards Fire, shouting, pleading with him to return home and do them no harm or, if he had to continue forth, then to become calmer.

Fire was deaf to his pleas and, if anything, grew more intense until, at last, all in his path was consumed.

Man and his family took to their heels and followed the birds and animals fleeing before the flames. But as they ran, the fire gained upon them. Then, as their skins were beginning to scorch, they reached a broad, shallow river. They splashed through the water and it soothed their heated skins.

The cool, clear, river water revived them. As they hurried on, Man looked behind them and was surprised to see that Fire was no longer following them.

‘What miracle is this?’ cried Man, as he tried to calm the sobbing child that he carried. ‘The water has saved us. The one whom I thought was my friend has not followed us across the river. He is afraid. And look, our precious cattle are safe on this side of the river! We are saved!’ And they threw themselves on the dry ground and hugged each other, weeping tears of joy.

The fire slowly died down as it reached the edge of the river, although tree trunks blazed far into the night, flickering out only as a new day dawned.

Man went back to his home. It was an ugly, charred and blackened wasteland as far as the eye could see. Inside the skeleton of poles that had been his hut were the remnants of his family’s belongings and the feast that had been prepared for their honoured guest.

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Man picked up the charred remains of one of the roots. It gave forth a delicious aroma, so he put it in his mouth and bit into it.

‘Wife!’ he exclaimed with surprise. ‘The feast that awaited our guest has not been spoilt; indeed, it has improved! Come, let us eat it, for there is nothing else left in this desolation that can satisfy our hunger. But,’ he added, ‘never, never again will I ask that demon of destruction to visit our home.’

And so it was that Man learnt to improve his food by cooking it and how to quench fire with water. First, he roasted the roots and vegetables that grew in the bush and then he learnt to cook the raw flesh of the animals that he kept and hunted.

Today, fire is one of Modimo’s most valued gifts to humankind.

ActivitiesA. Know the facts 1. What did the first people eat? 2. Who is Modimo? 3. Where do the cattle escape to?

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The Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Learner’s Book has been organised to support teaching and learning in the English Home Language classroom by presenting the material to be taught and practised in the classroom in 30–60 minute lessons. In each lesson the learners will:• establishwhattheyalreadyknowaboutatopic• learnnewfactsaboutatopic• practiseusingthenewknowledge,conceptsandskillstheyhave

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The Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Learner’s Book is supported by the Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Teacher’s Guide and Core Reader. This course provides everything the teacher and learners need to master English Home Language in Grade 9: a complete solution for the classroom.

Also available in this series for the Senior Phase:

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The Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Learner’s Book has been developed to support the content (knowledge, concepts and skills) contained in the National Curriculum Statement (NCS), as organised in the new Curriculum and Assessment Policy Statement (CAPS) for Home Language.

The Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Learner’s Book has been organised to support teaching and learning in the English Home Language classroom by presenting the material to be taught and practised in the classroom in 30–60 minute lessons. In each lesson the learners will:• establishwhattheyalreadyknowaboutatopic• learnnewfactsaboutatopic• practiseusingthenewknowledge,conceptsandskillstheyhave

acquired in the lesson.

In addition, learners are provided with:• additionalhomeworkactivities• Extrapracticeactivitiesthatcaterforbothremediationand

enrichment• Asummaryofacycleofwork.Acycleconsistsoftwoweeks’work.

The Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Learner’s Book is supported by the Solutions for all English Home Language Grade 9 Teacher’s Guide and Core Reader. This course provides everything the teacher and learners need to master English Home Language in Grade 9: a complete solution for the classroom.

Also available in this series for the Senior Phase:

www.macmillan.co.zaISBN 978 143101 402 6

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solutions for all · 2020-04-30 · ‘forgive me, i know you granted my wish and gave us bread,...

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