Discover “The Quarrel of the Two Lizards,” an initiatory Pulaar tale narrated by Amadou Hampâté Bâ, which illustrates the importance of resolving even the smallest disputes to avoid great tragedies. A captivating story that pays tribute to African wisdom and oral tradition.
Amadou Hampâté Bâ, born in Bandiagara in Mali in 1900, distinguished himself as one of the most eminent African storytellers of the 20th century. A great defender of oral tradition, particularly that of the Fulani people, he was often described as a “graduate of the great university of the Word taught in the shade of baobabs.” Among his many tales, “The Quarrel of the Two Lizards” subtly illustrates the social dynamics and deep morals conveyed by everyday disputes.
This Pulaar initiatory tale transports us to the heart of ancestral wisdom, where even the most modest creatures can teach vital lessons about life and coexistence.
“The quarrel of the two lizards” told by Amadou Hampâté Bâ
In the time when the creatures of the earth still understood one another, a wealthy head of a household lived in a small village, in the heart of a fertile land. His elderly mother still lived with him. Within the large family compound, surrounded by the huts of the various members of the household, several animals—among them a dog, a rooster, a goat, an ox, and a horse—roamed freely.
One day, in a village about two days’ walk away, an old man renowned for his wisdom died. The head of the household had to leave to attend his funeral, accompanied by several other villagers.
“I feel very tired,” his old mother told him. “Come back as quickly as possible.”
“Do not worry, mother, I will not linger. In five or six days at most, I will be back.”
His mother gave him her blessing for the journey, then went to lie down in her hut. At the moment of departure, the head of the household called the dog:
“Dog!” he said. “During my absence, you will be the guardian of the house. Stay here at the entrance of the compound. Watch everything that happens inside and outside, and under no circumstances leave your post! If an incident occurs inside, let the rooster, the goat, the ox, or the horse take care of it and restore order if necessary. Do you understand me well?”
“Yes, master!” said the dog.
And, matching action with words, he wagged his tail and lowered his head to be patted. The master gently tapped his head, then, reassured, left to join his companions on the road.
Two days after his departure, early one morning, as the first rays of the sun were just beginning to gild the roofs of the huts, the dog heard a strange noise coming from the hut of the old mother.
She, sheltered under a mosquito net, was still resting. An oil lamp burned softly beside her. The household rooster was pecking in front of the old woman’s hut, searching for grains of millet that had fallen from the mortars.
“Rooster! Rooster!” called the dog.
“What do you want, dog?”
“What is that noise coming from the hut where the master’s mother is resting?”
“It is two lizards fighting, clinging to the ceiling of the hut. They have been quarreling for quite some time over the corpse of a dead fly.”
“Please, rooster, go ask them to stop their fight. And if they refuse, force them to separate.”
“What, dog!” the rooster protested, his comb trembling. “You ask me, king of the barnyard, charged with announcing each morning the rising of the sun, to concern myself with a quarrel of lizards?”
“The mother of our master is ill,” insisted the dog. “The noise the lizards are making may disturb her. And besides, there is no such thing as a small quarrel, just as there is no such thing as a small fire. No one knows what may result from it…”
“Go separate them yourself!”
“I cannot. The master ordered me not to move from this place…”
“Then manage on your own! It is not my concern. Besides, who would care about a quarrel of lizards!”
And, lifting the long feathers of his tail, the rooster resumed pecking here and there. [The dog then asks the goat, the ox, and then the horse to go separate the two lizards. But all refuse, claiming that it would be humiliating for them to deal with such a trivial matter.]
Helpless, not knowing what else to do, the dog fell silent. With drooping ears and his muzzle resting on his front paws, he watched sadly as everyone in the courtyard went about their business, walking, resting, or wandering without concern.
But then, as our two lizards twisted and struggled, they fell from the ceiling and landed on the oil lamp. The burning wick slipped out of the lamp, brushed against the mosquito net, the mosquito net caught fire, and soon the bed was in flames.
The old mother cried out for help… Cries arose from all over the compound… People rushed in, pulled the poor woman away, and by throwing calabashes full of water onto the bed, they managed to extinguish the fire. Alas, the poor old woman was gravely burned. She was still breathing, but her life hung by a thread.
The village healer was called in haste. He examined the patient and shook his head.
“The burns must be coated with chicken blood,” he said. “Find me one, I will sacrifice it and pronounce the ritual words over it. Then make a broth with its remains and try to make the patient drink it.”
“There is a rooster in the courtyard!” someone exclaimed.
They rushed out and chased the rooster, who ran in all directions, flapping his wings and crying out in protest. In vain! Soon a man caught him, seized him by the legs, and carried him away to be sacrificed. As he passed in front of the dog, hanging upside down, his head dangling, his voice hoarse from crying, the rooster groaned:
“Ah, dog! If only I had taken care of that quarrel of the lizards! Now I am going to lose my life because of it!”
“Yes indeed,” said the dog. “I told you there is no such thing as a small quarrel. If you had listened to me, you would not be here now.”
After the rooster was sacrificed, the patient’s burns were treated with the collected blood, and a good chicken broth was prepared. Someone threw the bones to the dog.
“Poor rooster!” said the dog. “If you had agreed to use your authority to stop that fight, I would not be eating your bones today…”
Alas! Before even managing to swallow a sip of broth, the old mother, too gravely injured, breathed her last.
While everyone lamented in the house, a man went to fetch the thoroughbred horse, saddled it, and had a young boy accustomed to horse racing mount it. He handed him a whip.
“Hurry!” he said. “Ride to the village where the head of the household is, inform him of his mother’s death, and bring him back immediately. Only he can take care of the funeral.”
The young boy, delighted to ride the thoroughbred, leapt onto its back, struck it with the whip, and, with a loud cry, sent it off like an arrow. For hours he made it gallop, gallop, gallop…
By force of cries, whip strokes, and kicks, he drove the poor horse so hard that, panting, foam streaming from its jaws, it reached the neighboring village by late morning, just as the sun stood overhead.
The boy spotted the head of the household among the assembled men and told him the tragic news. Devastated, the man had only one thought: to return home without delay to pay his final respects to his mother. Without seeking a fresher mount, he leapt onto the still-sweating thoroughbred, took the boy behind him, and, with heavy blows of the whip, set the horse racing back toward the village.
Poor thoroughbred, who had considered himself too noble to deal with a mere quarrel of lizards! Never before had he been subjected to such an ordeal! Whipped, spurred, carrying a double load, he was forced to gallop back along the long road he had already covered with such difficulty that morning.
Covered in foam, his flanks bleeding, his eyes bulging, by late afternoon he finally reached the family compound. The master and the boy jumped down and joined the household members. As for the poor horse, his lungs burning, spitting reddish foam, he took a few more steps… Then, his heart giving out, he collapsed beside the dog. As they say in Africa, “his heart burst.”
Before dying, he still found the strength to say in a final breath:
“Ah, dog! If only I had listened to your advice, I would not be losing my life today over that quarrel of the lizards!”
“Alas, my friend!” sighed the dog. “These are the sad consequences of a ‘small quarrel’!”
Meanwhile, the head of the household, after paying his respects to his mother’s body, ordered the grave to be dug. According to the custom of the village, before burying the deceased, the grave must first be ritually “opened” by pouring goat’s blood into it. The animal’s flesh is then used to feed the visitors who come to offer their condolences.
Immediately, two men seized the goat, who was peacefully lounging in the courtyard, and dragged it by the horns to the place of sacrifice. As it passed by the dog, the goat bleated sadly:
“Oh, dog! How right you were! If only I had taken care of that quarrel of the lizards, I would not be sacrificed today!”
“Alas, yes, my friend!” replied the dog. “If you had taken the trouble to stop that small fight, you would be alive today!”
Once the goat was slaughtered, an elder collected its blood and went to ritually “open” the old mother’s grave. She was finally buried according to custom, with all the honors due to her rank and age. The rest of the meat was roasted to feed the visitors, and the dog was given a generous portion of meat and bones…
Forty days after the death, the moment when the souls of the deceased are believed to free themselves from their last ties to the earthly world, people arrived from all the surrounding villages to participate in the great ceremony of the “fortieth day.” To feed all these people, the head of the household had to sacrifice the ox. Before dying, it said to the dog:
“Ah, dog! If only I had agreed to take care of that quarrel of the lizards!…”
Full of pity, the dog let out a deep sigh. But when, a little later, he was given a huge portion of bones and pieces of meat, he devoured them without hesitation…
Thus, because of the fight between two small lizards over a dead fly—a modest quarrel that no one wanted to deal with—not only did our proud friends the rooster, the goat, the ox, and the horse lose their lives, but it also resulted in a fire and a death that plunged the entire household into mourning…
Only the dog, faithful to his duty, came out unharmed from this turmoil—and even found in it an unexpected reward…
~ Amadou Hampâté Bâ, “The Quarrel of the Two Lizards,” There Is No Such Thing as a Small Quarrel, New Tales of the Savannah © Éditions Stock, 1999, 2000.
