Once there was a woman named Shindo, who lived in a
village at the foot of a snow-capped mountain. Her husband had died, and
she had no children, so she was very lonely. And she was always tired
too, for she had no one to help with the chores.
All on her own, she cleaned the hut and yard, tended
the chickens, washed her clothes in the river, carried water, cut
firewood, and cooked her solitary meals.
At the end of each day, Shindo gazed up at the snowy
peak.
“Great Mountain Spirit!” she would pray. “My work is
too hard. Send me help!”
One day, Shindo was weeding her small field by the
river, where she grew vegetables and bananas and gourds. Suddenly, a
noble chieftain appeared beside her.
“I am a messenger from the Great Mountain Spirit,”
he told the astonished woman, and he handed her some gourd seeds. “Plant
these carefully. They are the answer to your prayers.”
Then the chieftain vanished.
Shindo wondered, “What help could I get from a
handful of seeds?” Still, she planted and tended them as carefully as
she could.
She was amazed at how quickly they grew. In just a
week, long vines trailed over the ground, and ripe gourds hung from
them.
Shindo brought the gourds home, sliced off the tops,
and scooped out the pulp. Then she laid the gourds on the rafters of
her hut to dry. When they hardened, she could sell them at the market as
calabashes, to be made into bowls and jugs.
One fine gourd Shindo set by the cook fire. This one
she wanted to use herself, and she hoped it would dry faster.
The next morning, Shindo went off again to tend her
field. But meanwhile, back in the hut, the gourds began to change. They
sprouted heads, then arms, then legs.
Soon, they were not gourds at all. They were
children!
One boy lay by the fire, where Shindo had put the
fine gourd. The other children called to him from the rafters.
“Ki-te-te, come help us!
We’ll work for our mother.
Come help us, Ki-te-te,
Our favorite brother!”
Kitete helped his brothers and sisters down from the
rafters. Then the children ran through the hut and yard, singing and
playing.
All joined in but Kitete. Drying by the fire had
made the boy slow-witted. So he just sat there, smiling widely.
After a while, the other children started on the
chores. They quickly cleaned the hut and yard, fed the chickens, washed
the clothes, carried water, cut firewood, and cooked a meal for Shindo
to eat when she returned.
When the work was done, Kitete helped the others
climb back on the rafters. Then they all turned again into gourds.
That afternoon, as Shindo returned home, the other
women of the village called to her.
“Who were those children in your yard today?” they
asked. “Where did they come from? Why were they doing your chores?”
“What children? Are you all making fun of me?” said
Shindo, angrily.
But when she reached her hut, she was astounded. The
work was done, and even her meal was ready! She could not imagine who
had helped her.
The same thing happened the next day. As soon as
Shindo had gone off, the gourds turned into children, and the ones on
the rafters called out,
“Ki-te-te, come help us!
We’ll work for our mother.
Come help us, Ki-te-te,
Our favorite brother!”
Then they played for a while, did all the chores,
climbed back to the rafters, and turned again into gourds.
Once more, Shindo was amazed to see the work all
done. But this time, she decided to find out who were her helpers.
The next morning, Shindo pretended to leave, but she
hid beside the door of the hut and peeked in. And so she saw the gourds
turn into children, and heard the ones on the rafters call out,
“Ki-te-te, come help us!
We’ll work for our mother.
Come help us, Ki-te-te,
Our favorite brother!”
As the children rushed out the door, they nearly ran
into Shindo. She was too astonished to speak, and so were the children.
But after a moment, they went on with their playing, and then with
their chores.
When they were done, they started to climb back to
the rafters.
“No, no!” cried Shindo. “You must not change back
into gourds! You will be the children I never had, and I will love you
and care for you.”
So Shindo kept the children as her own. She was no
longer lonely. And the children were so helpful, she soon became rich,
with many fields of vegetables and bananas, and flocks of sheep and
goats.
That is, all were helpful but Kitete, who stayed by
the fire with his simple-minded smile.
Most of the time, Shindo didn’t mind. In fact,
Kitete was really her favorite, because he was like a sweet baby. But
sometimes, when she was tired or unhappy about something else, she would
get annoyed at him.
“You useless child!” she would say. “Why can’t you
be smart like your brothers and sisters, and work as hard as they do?”
Kitete would only grin back at her.
One day, Shindo was out in the yard, cutting
vegetables for a stew. As she carried the pot from the bright sunlight
into the hut, she tripped over Kitete. She fell, and the clay pot
shattered. Vegetables and water streamed everywhere.
“Stupid boy!” yelled Shindo. “Haven’t I told you to
stay out of my way? But what can I expect? You’re not a real child at
all. You’re nothing but a calabash!”
The very next moment, she gave a scream. Kitete was
no longer there, and in his place was a gourd.
“What have I done?” cried Shindo, as the children
crowded into the hut. “I didn’t mean what I said! You’re not a calabash,
you’re my own darling son. Oh, children, please do something!”
The children looked at each other. Then over each
other they climbed, scampering up to the rafters. When the last child
had been helped up by Shindo, they called out one last time,
“Ki-te-te, come help us!
We’ll work for our mother.
Come help us, Ki-te-te,
Our favorite brother!”
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then slowly,
the gourd began to change. It sprouted a head, then arms, then legs. At
last, it was not a gourd at all. It was—
Kitete!
Shindo learned her lesson. Ever after, she was very
careful what she called her children.
And so they gave her comfort and happiness, all the
rest of her days.
About the Story
This tale comes from the Chagga people—a collective
name for a variety of Bantu peoples living on the slopes of Mount
Kilimanjaro. Though of diverse origin, they have developed a common
language and culture, distinct from those of the surrounding plains.
A Chagga story about children growing from gourds is
not surprising, because Chaggas are often named after gourds. For
instance, two common names for females are Mambiri, which means
“ripe,” and Mambishi, “not ripe.” (Kitete, however, is not
such a name.)
Though some of us might feel uneasy that children
should work for their mother, this is part of the traditional education
called ipvunda, based on “learning by doing.” Instead of studying
subjects in classrooms, children took part in the same activities they
would carry on as adults. Nowadays, though, Chagga children attend
regular schools, as introduced by the British colonialists and continued
by the independent government.
The source for my retelling was Kilimanjaro and
Its People, by Charles Dundas, Witherby, High Holburn, England,
1924. The information here on Chagga names and education came from Ladi
Semali, a Chagga and an assistant professor of education at Pennsylvania
State University.
How to Say the Names
Kitete ~ Kee-TAY-tayShindo ~ SHEEN-do or SHEE-’n-do
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