Before you read this political satire, please understand the following:
1. The cats represent the cunning government officers in my country who always have unlimited swindling legality, and the mice are the poor farmers and traders represented by me and my people.
2. The setting is a village in the forest region where a village boy had to abandon in 1981 and later in 2000. He had to flee his native country for an daring adventure.
3. The mice's only hope is their children's education, but how? Please discover by yourself.
4. Check the bottom of the story for the meaning of the local color's words from the author's native language.
NYANLAY-THE-CAT AND NYINE-THE-MOUSE
By Joseph Haba
Once upon a time, in a far away easter of Guinea - West Africa, there was a little Kpelle* haunted hamlet. In this village a mouse discovered a species of Cats called Nyanlé* (Nyan-lay) who were the eyes of the country. These eyes created panic in the hamlet, and became a ghostly rural community for its inhabitants. It was not ghostly for Nyanlés but for Nyinès, the mice. Every Nyinè living in that hamlet was aware of one thing: keep away from the cruel angry cats. The only choice that the mice were left was to desert the hamlet. It then became a burden for both mice and cats. A weight that created awful images among those animals.
For mice, there was never a save place to move about; there was never a save food to eat, or a save water to sip. Every mouse, seeing a eye-catching juicy fruit, thought: “Ha! Ha! I understand the riddle of your trap, sister Nyanlé. Though my stomach is an empty barrel, my mind is an enriched proverb full of memories. You would probably tell me, ‘Why you don’t want to eat?’ Well, my mind tells me: Mirror the memory of your father’s death. You barely break away from your enemy’s teeth that day; however, your father didn’t escape. So, don’t! Don't never take anything well-taken care of, and nver take anything so perfect to be truth.”
On the other hand, for the Nyanlés, that hamlet became a desert full of bones of hunger.
“My bones are hungry, and my flesh is as dry as the Sahara desert. Though my pacing is as silence as a graveyard, I have never caught any mice by surprise,” said Nyanlékoula-the-Warrior-Cat whose eyes burns like the flame of a wild fire.
To this cat’s surrounding, every mouse became a soul as soon as it was about to eat a fruit or a vegetable; every fruit, at a mouse’s reach, was a snare; and every street corner was a mouse trap.
For countless days, Nyanlékoula did not find provisions, nor was he fortunate to get provision from a neighbor. Therefore, he thought of a plan. A plan, he thought, could profit the cats. “I have decided to go for a pilgrimage in the Holy Land,” said he to himself.
Before then, he called two of his trustees under a kola tree. These friends were Nyanlémalen-the-Nephew-Cat and Nyanléhulongolo-the-Old-Cat. After a briefing, Nephew-Cat was called upon to inform the entire cat community. In next to no time, all the cats were present. And Nyanlé-the-Cat stood on his feet in these terms.
“Listen to my words. I think we all are aware of the present crises. At this moment, we hardly get what we want for food. For instance, I haven’t found any mice for the past four days…”
“Yes, you’re right,” Nyanléhulongolo interrupted as he painfully stood up trembling on his cane. “In my old age, I should be eating at least five mice a day: One for breakfast, two for lunch, one for diner, and one for super. But I’ve used all the techniques that I used to apply for cunning mice to no avail.”
As soon as he stopped talking, he left the other cats, dragging his legs and cloak and disappeared in a den to greet his cousin lioness that has just had three cubs. The three cats’ eyes brightened with joy. They spontaneously breathed heavily with release.
“Thank you for that excellent comment,” Nyanlé-the-Cat said after Nyanléhulongolo’s departure.
“I’m glad that even the representative of our elders approves my thought. Now, in order to find solutions to this and many other problems, I’ve decided to go and see the divine family for support. What could be your proposals?”
“I propose that we get all of our people involved so that the plan could be a victory,” said Nyanléhwenya-the-guest-cat who was dating Nyanlékoula’s daughter. “We could try. I say try. Yes, we could try to give them a month of peace.”
Cleaning hot tears from her eyes, Nyanlékonian-the-pregnant-Cat made a comment, “Yes, if we actually do this, the mice could surely be tempted to believe us.”
As she said these words, every mouse in the gathering pitied her situation. It seemed that she had not eaten for two days. A silence of sympathy ran through the whole gathering. Meanwhile another female cat came forth and motion the crowd with this comment: “So, if we want more, we have to sacrefy more time.”
“Yes, I do agree for us to make this plan. But don’t you think that four market days are beyond our efforts?” Protested Nyanlélanwan-the-Young-Cat while his concave eyes dimly flipped under his eye lips.
This cat whose eyes shape suggested noontime proposal was revised. Meanwhile, Nyanlémalen interrupted, “Wait,” he said, “I suggest two market days. But during this period of peace, we should inform Nyinè-the-Mouse so as to restore confidence his people about this new pact. I, as nephew of the people, have an important role to play. As soon as you go, I’ll start to inform them.”
This comment made, everyone retreated home.
When the day came, at dawn, while everyone was in bed, Nyanlémalen-the-Nephew-Cat went out with a tradition horn.
“BUOU! BUOU!” the sound of the cow horn went. After a pause, he said, “My fathers and my mothers, stop your ears. Stop your ears to this important message.” He made a few paces and cleared his throat; then he continued. “It reaches to you, cats. It reaches particularly to you, mice. All of you, it reaches to you all, mice; despite your age; despite your social status; despite your daily activities; and despite your health condition. You are called for a general meeting to our court of justice. There’ll be important discussions which, I think, could make us brothers and sisters.” As he said these words, one could predict a menace in his tone. Then he continued again, “This meeting will be the first and ultimate meeting during which Nyanlétoomu will deliver the message of life from the divine family. C’est compris[1]?” he concluded.
He was so carried away by the idea of meeting mice face to face that he spoke French without noticing it. He stopped for a moment, cleared his throat and continued, “I’m serious, and I mean business. Any mouse that will not attend this meeting will be dealt with, and the first sanction that is likely to come upon him is death. I’m quite clear and quite sure that everybody is neither asleep nor drunk with palm wine this morning.”
Thinking that the mission was accomplished, he started home. Suddenly he realized that the date was not given. “Listen again. I was about to forget. The meeting will take place in our court of justice within two market days. That is two weeks from now. And everyone should be there and seated before the sun gave four-feet shadow.”
According to the Kpelle, my tribe in Guinea, important messages are given at dawn because everyone’s mind is sound without alcohol from palm wine.
That morning, the mice were poking, from time to time, their heads out to see if there was anything they could decide, but they could not for fear of being caught.
During the day, no mouse came out. Every mouse held up to its provisions at home.
At night, Toomou-Nyinè-the-King-Mouse and all the mice held a meeting at his palace. They held this meeting in order to lighten the meaning of the invitation made by the cats, their everlasting enemies. During the meeting, the king mouse asked each mouse to give its point of view:
“Let’s go all of us so that, if we are offended, we could fight them,” said Nyinèhile-the-Man-Mouse. This comment raised an experienced mouse to its feet.
“Let me make a comment. Let’s boycott this meeting. I’m a mother of twenty, and I know what paint a woman endures for childbirth. I don’t think it is in our interest to fight cats,” said Nyinèlé-the-Mother-Mouse.
There was a lot of commotion in the assembly, and the mice found logic in the comment made. Meanwhile, in the turmoil, Nyinèlon-the-Child-Mouse’s voice tore the sky, and he asked a permission to speak. And he was granted.
“Nanni, Néni, Galani, Dèlèni da Malenni, kà ká wèlí töö.[2]” He paused, made a pace forward and continued. “Stop your ears to what I have to say. When you see a child demanding a public speech, either his fathers’ permission is granted or someone has unlawfully taken its property. Listen to what I have to say. Our elders say: There is no friendship between a whirlwind and a productive cola branch.” He dramatized this speech by spinning a cane in a small mango tree that lost three leaves. The other mice nodded in agreement. “That’s why I suggest that we get Old-Mouse’s opinion before any attempt. Thank you.”
He went and sat down.
“Yes, you got it,” they agreed. All the mice unanimously accepted his proposal and decided to meet at Old-Mouse’s house, who lived in an uninhabited bug hill.
That night, Old-Mouse was surprised to see all the mice come to his residence. And what was interesting was the way all the mice made special plans in order to reach to the spot without being seen by any cats.
“What’s up!” asked Old-Mouse to the first comers.
“Don’t panic. Have you ever seen us here at this hour?” asked a mouse.
“No! That’s why I asked my question, and you didn’t answer it. Any danger?”
“You’ll see,” came the answer.
When every mouse took seat around a blazing fire, King-Mouse asked Nephew-Mouse to bless the assembly. The latter stood up and said, “Did you have a nice day?”
“Yes,” said the congregation.
“A nice day without any terrible incidence?”
“Yes. How about you?” Said the congregation.
“Yes! Thank you. Thank you.”
At that moment, some mice were murmuring in the left corner of the gathering.
“Feed you mouth and stop your ears to my voice,” said Nephew-Mouse. “We have met here for a purpose; may this meeting find a solution for us!” he continued.
“Our hands accept it,” agreed the congregation.
“Anyone in this gathering who has any bad intensions, ready to disclose the meaning of this meeting to our enemies, may the spirits of our ancestors catch him!”
“Our hands accept it,” said the congregation.
“When he is caught, let them kill him!”
“Our hands accept it.”
“Let them kill him, so we may live in peace!”
“Our hands accept it.”
“Those cats have an intention for their own benefit, may we escape it!”
“Our hands accept it.”
“My fathers, when a blessing is said as far as I have done, is it small?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Let’s accept it in a sense of unity!”
“Yes! We accept it with our two hands,” the mice said.
Nephew-Mouse went and sat down. It was King-Mouse’s turn. Before then, there were undirected conversations. When everyone was quiet, he said:
- Old-Mouse, we have come to see you. It’s not anything against you.
- Really? Asked Old-Mouse.
- Yes! We have been invited to a meeting with threat. According to the cats’ spokesman, this meeting is vital to our survival. What should be our reaction? I am resting for your reply, he concluded.
- Thank you for coming! Thank you for respecting our tradition. Thank you for respecting seniority. Rejoice for your coming here.
They all nodded and swept the assembly with smiles of joy.
“Stop your ears and feed your month. You could have had some difficulties had you gone without my advice. In order to escape any misleading intention, this is what should be done,” Old-Mouse said.
There was a complete silence. Then he told King-Mouse to peep out as soon as they crawled through a hidden hole.
“Can you see those taros stuck together?” he asked his guest.
“Yes, with precision. You mean the ones between the garden fence and the dump, don’t you?”
“Yes, you got it. Great! Now, since you still have two market days before the meeting, from the taros, dig holes for each mouse to the meeting hall. And don’t forget to put a light object that will help you to recognize the holes. Is that OK?” he was making this comment while they were going back.
“Yes,” applauded the mice that overheard the conversation.
Just as it was stated, they started the tacks. All the Nyinè went to work, leaving aside those who were pregnant, the old and the babies. For two weeks, the mice had enough time to dig holes for every one and were ready for the rendez-vous[3].
Meanwhile, Toomou-Nyanlé[4] called the other cats and gave them a severe warning in these words: “Any Nyanlé that would make an attempt to even threaten a mouse, despite its irregular position, before the set date, would be killed without trial.”
This warning brought temporally peace in the land for two weeks.
When the day came, all the cats came as early as six for the meeting before the meeting. “As the mice come in, no one should attack any mice,” reiterated the cats as the last resolution. Then they seated at the official places reserved only for the cats. And King-Cat himself, thinking about being block, asked a seat right over the mice’s seat.
Then came Toomou-Nyinè and his followers. Though they were afraid, the various incidences that occurred during the last fortnight gave them courage to enter and sit right on their holes.
However, despite of the warning, a few cats, seeing pregnant mice walking with pain, wanted to violate the decree given to them. Nevertheless thanks to some patient but dangerous cats, this didn’t come to pass. These cats stopped the other from violating by scratching on their tails.
When the assembly was whole, Kitité-Nyanlé-the-Judge-Cat stood on his feet and motion silence.
“Your majesty, King-Cat and subjects!” the judge began. “You, the said King-Mouse and friends, listen to what I was given to deliver to you,” he continued as he cannily threatened the mice with his left paw.
There was a pause, and the mice could see the cats’ eyes turning red.
“This is the decree that I have been given the privilege to read it to you. It’s a new verdict. Verdict that His Holiness King-Cat obtained from the divine family during his holy journey to the holy land.”
In the meantime, all the mice were listening while one of their feet was already in the holes.
“I read: We, the cats, have discovered that YOU, mice are doing what you want to do. That is why:
- seeing the present economical crises;
- seeing the anarchy by which you, mice, bring forth your children;
- seeing the non respect on the birth control program in your community;
- seeing the cunning plans by which you, mice, escape when trapped;
- seeing the importance of this gathering which we hope to benefit from, all mice should.
Article 1: NEVER TOUCH ANY GRAINS OF RICE DESPITE THEIR POSITION;
Article 2: NEVER TOUCH ANY PIECE OF CASSAVA DESPITE ITS POSITION;
Article 3: NEVER TOUCH ANY RED PALM NUTS DESPITE THEIR POSITIONS;
Article 4: NEVER TOUCH ANTHING EADABLE WITHOUT OUR INSPECTION;
Article 5: NEVER WALK ABOUT IN THIS TERRETORY WITHOUT A SLIP GIVEN TO YOU BY WORRIOR-CAT.
Article 6: HAVE TO NOTIFY YOURSELVES TO OUR CUSTOMS OFFICERS BEFORE GOING OUT. AND FINALL…
While the content of this verdict was being read, all the mice, that could only see the well being of cats hidden on these lines, did not know what to say. However, they inwardly thanked Old-Mouse for his advice.
Suddenly an adolescent mouse that could no longer bear more forbidden laws, interrupted the reading in these words:
“Stop there,” he said. At this, Kitité-Nyanlé, who was not expecting a comment, stopped. The other cats, that have been impatient during the reading of the decrees, popped their head out ready to invade.
“Thank you very much for this wonderful, well written and well thought document. But it seems to me that the divine family forgot to mention all the cats that cruelly and mercilessly kill mice. I am not talking about…”
“IMPOLITE!” unanimously acclaimed the cats. This acclamation gave the tone of escape.
Before the cats could jump for the mice, all the mice rushed in the burrows provided.
The cats, knowing nothing about the preparedness of the mice, hurt each other. At the end, none of them managed to catch a single mouse despite the number of mice in the hall. After tearing each other’s ears, they realized that King-Cat had lied to them. He was killed and devoured. After a long argument they parted with diverse thought.
The mice on the other hand went and thanked Old-Mouse for his wise advice. In order to prove their recognition, some mice brought fire wood to Old-Mouse’s house, and others went to work on his farm. Later, two tittles were given to two mice. One was given to Small-Mouse as prime minister for all the mice, and the other was given to Adolescent-Mouse as the Minister of Defense. That is why old age is considered “the fountain of wisdom,” even among human beings.
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* Kpelle: a tribe in the Republics of Guinea and Liberia, West Africa
* Nyanlé: a cat in Kpelle
[1] Is it understood?
[2] My fathers, my mothers, my uncles, my aunts and my nephews, listen.
[3] meeting
[4] King-Cat
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