The Monkey and the Shark. Once upon a time, Keema the Monkey lived in a tall tree by the sea. His friend Papa the Shark would visit every morning and ask, “Throw me some food, my friend!” Keema gladly tossed him fruits from the tree, and soon they became great friends. One day, Papa said, “Keema, come to my home so I can repay your kindness.” Keema worried because monkeys couldn’t swim, but Papa promised to carry him safely on his back. So Keema agreed, and off they went across the sea. Halfway there, Papa told the truth: “Our king is very sick, and only a monkey’s heart can heal him. That is why I need you.” Keema was shocked but quickly thought of a clever plan. He said, “Oh dear, why didn’t you tell me earlier? I left my heart back in the tree!” Papa believed him and hurried back so Keema could fetch it. As soon as they reached the shore, Keema climbed high into his tree. From the branches he laughed, “Did you really think I’d give you my heart? You are like a washerman’s donkey—no heart and no ears!” Papa the Shark realized he had been tricked. From that day on, Keema stayed safely in his tree, while Papa swam away in shame. And the lesson was clear: clever thinking can save you, but selfish friends are not true friends at all. The Hare and the Lion’s Honey One sunny day, Soongoora the hare found a calabash tree full of honeybees. He wanted the honey but didn’t want to share fairly, so he tricked his friend Bookoo the rat into helping. Together they smoked out the bees and ate happily. But Simba the lion, who owned the honey, appeared below and demanded to know who was up there. Scared, Bookoo admitted it, and Soongoora quickly had him wrap him in straw and throw him down. The hare escaped, but poor Bookoo was caught and eaten by the angry lion. Later, Soongoora tried the same trick with his friend Kobay the tortoise. Again, they climbed the tree and feasted on honey. When Simba came, Soongoora asked to be wrapped in straw, but this time clever Kobay shouted, “Here comes Soongoora!” The lion caught the hare, but Soongoora tricked Simba into swinging him by the tail. He slipped away once more, and Simba was left furious. The lion then turned to Kobay, but the tortoise fooled him too. “Rub my shell off in the mud, and then I’ll be good to eat,” he said. Simba tried and rubbed until his paws bled, while Kobay slipped into the water and escaped. Simba roared in anger—outwitted again! Still hunting for the hare, Simba followed tracks to Soongoora’s house. He crept inside to wait. But when the hare came home, he noticed the paw prints and guessed the lion was hiding. Standing outside, he called, “How d’ye do, house?” When Simba answered, “How d’ye do?” Soongoora laughed. “Houses don’t talk, silly lion!” Then he ran away, leaving Simba tricked yet again. And so, Soongoora the hare and Kobay the tortoise lived free, while Simba learned that strength alone is not enough. Cleverness and quick thinking can save the small from the mighty. The Lion, the Hyena, and the Rabbit Once upon a time, Simba the lion, Feesee the hyena, and Keeteetee the rabbit decided to become farmers. They cleared a piece of land, planted all sorts of seeds, and then went back home to rest while their crops grew. After some time, when the food was almost ready to harvest, they agreed to visit the farm together to see how everything was coming along. On the morning of their trip, clever little Keeteetee made a suggestion. “Let’s make a rule,” he said. “As we go, no one must stop on the way. If anyone stops, that one will be eaten.” Simba and Feesee laughed, thinking they were stronger and faster than the rabbit, and quickly agreed. As they walked, Keeteetee suddenly stopped. Feesee growled, “Ha! The rabbit stopped first—he must be eaten!” But Keeteetee calmly replied, “I was just thinking about something. Look at those two stones—one big, one small. The little one never goes up, and the big one never goes down.” Simba and Feesee paused, puzzled. “Well, that’s true,” they admitted. And while they were thinking, Keeteetee had rested enough to continue. After a while, the rabbit stopped again. Simba and Feesee were ready to eat him this time. But Keeteetee said, “Wait! I was thinking again. When animals like us put on new coats, where do the old ones go?” The question was so strange that the lion and hyena both exclaimed, “Well, I wonder!” and forgot all about eating him. The rabbit smiled quietly to himself and hopped along, rested once more. Not long after, Feesee the hyena decided to be clever. He stopped and said, “I’m thinking too!” Simba asked, “What are you thinking about?” Feesee grinned and answered, “I’m thinking about nothing at all.” The rabbit shook his head. “That won’t work. You’re breaking the rule!” So Keeteetee and Simba pounced on Feesee, and that was the end of the hyena. Now only the rabbit and the lion continued. Soon they came to a dark cave. Simba licked his lips and said, “Well, Keeteetee, you’ve stopped again. I think it’s your turn to be eaten.” But the rabbit laughed. “Oh no, brother Simba, I’m just thinking. Long ago, our ancestors used to go into this cave and come out the other side. Let me show you.” Keeteetee hopped in and out of the cave easily. Then he challenged Simba to try. But when the great lion squeezed in, he got stuck fast! Quick as a flash, the rabbit jumped on his back and began nibbling away. When Simba groaned, “Come eat from the front so I can see you,” Keeteetee replied, “Oh no—I’m too ashamed to look you in the face!” And so the clever rabbit became the only farmer left, the proud owner of the farm and its rich crops. The Kites and the Crows Once upon a time, there was Koongooroo, the sultan of the crows, and Mwayway, the sultan of the kites. One day Koongooroo sent a message to Mwayway that said, “I want your people to be my soldiers.” But Mwayway quickly replied, “No, never!” Angry, Koongooroo threatened war. Mwayway answered, “That’s fine—if you win, we will serve you. But if we win, you must serve us.” And so, the two groups prepared for battle. When the fight began, the crows were no match for the kites. They were beaten badly and feared they would all be destroyed. Just then, an old crow named Jeeoosee suggested, “Let us fly far away to another land.” The crows agreed, and they quickly left their town behind. When the kites entered Crowtown, they found it empty and claimed it as their own. But Koongooroo was not ready to give up. He told his people, “Pluck some of my feathers and throw me into the kites’ town. Do not worry about me—just wait for my signal.” So the crows obeyed, and Koongooroo lay in the street until some kites found him. He groaned, “My people beat me because I wanted them to obey Mwayway, the sultan of the kites.” The kites, pleased with his words, took him to Mwayway. Koongooroo bowed and said, “Though my people cast me out, I still believe you are my true sultan.” Mwayway was flattered and welcomed him to live with the kites. Koongooroo pretended to be loyal. He praised their ways, even telling them, “The kites have the best religion, far better than the crows!” The kites were so happy with his answer that they began to trust him completely. Then came the day of the great kite festival. Koongooroo secretly slipped away to his people and told them, “Tomorrow all the kites will be in their church. Gather wood and fire, and be ready.” At dawn, every kite went to the festival, leaving Koongooroo at home pretending to be sick. When no one was watching, he flew to the waiting crows and called, “Now is the time!” The crows hurried and piled wood around the church, setting it on fire. Soon the flames grew fierce. The kites, trapped inside, could not escape, and most of them perished, including their sultan, Mwayway. Koongooroo and the crows returned to their old town in triumph. From that day on, the kites feared the crows and always flew far away whenever they saw them. And so the clever plan of Koongooroo saved his people and restored their home forever. Goso, the Teacher Long ago, there lived a kind man named Go′so. He loved teaching children how to read, not in a classroom, but under the wide shade of a calabash tree. One quiet evening, while he was studying lessons for the next day, Paa the gazelle crept into the tree to steal fruit. A calabash slipped, fell, and sadly struck Go′so, ending his life. In the morning, the children came happily to learn, but instead found their teacher lying still. Their hearts were filled with sorrow. After giving him a proper burial, they promised each other that they would discover who had caused his death. They first thought it must have been the south wind that shook the tree. So they caught the wind and beat it. But the south wind cried, “It was not me! If I were that strong, would a mud wall stop me?” The children then turned to the mud wall. The mud wall said, “Don’t blame me. The rat makes holes in me.” So the children beat the rat. The rat said, “It isn’t my fault. The cat eats me.” Then the cat blamed the rope, the rope blamed the knife, the knife blamed the fire, the fire blamed the water, the water blamed the ox, and the ox blamed the tiny fly. At last, the fly whispered, “The gazelle eats me.” Suddenly, the children remembered—yes, it was Paa the gazelle who had climbed the calabash tree that night. Their hearts grew heavy, but they knew the truth at last. They found Paa, the gazelle, and asked him to explain. But he stood silent, too guilty and too afraid to speak. The children looked at one another and knew that he was the one who had caused the death of their teacher. So the children punished the gazelle and felt that they had honored Go′so’s memory. And as they lay under the calabash tree that evening, they whispered a lesson to themselves: every action, no matter how small, carries a consequence. And with that gentle thought, they closed their eyes, remembering their teacher with love, and drifted into dreams. The Ape, the Snake, and the Lion Long, long ago there lived, in a village called Keejee′jee, a woman whose husband died, leaving her with a little baby boy. She worked hard all day to get food for herself and child, but they lived very poorly and were most of the time half-starved. When the boy, whose name was ’Mvoo′ Laa′na, began to get big, he said to his mother, one day: “Mother, we are always hungry. What work did my father do to support us?” His mother replied: “Your father was a hunter. He set traps, and we ate what he caught in them.” “Oho!” said ’Mvoo Laana; “that’s not work; that’s fun. I, too, will set traps, and see if we can’t get enough to eat.” The next day he went into the forest and cut branches from the trees, and returned home in the evening. The second day he spent making the branches into traps. The third day he twisted cocoanut fiber into ropes. The fourth day he set up as many traps as time would permit. The fifth day he set up the remainder of the traps. The sixth day he went to examine the traps, and they had caught so much game, beside what they needed for themselves, that he took a great quantity to the big town of Oongoo′ja, where he sold it and bought corn and other things, and the house was full of food; and, as this good fortune continued, he and his mother lived very comfortably. But after a while, when he went to his traps he found nothing in them day after day. One morning, however, he found that an ape had been caught in one of the traps, and he was about to kill it, when it said: “Son of Adam, I am Neea′nee, the ape; do not kill me. Take me out of this trap and let me go. Save me from the rain, that I may come and save you from the sun some day.” So ’Mvoo Laana took him out of the trap and let him go. When Neeanee had climbed up in a tree, he sat on a branch and said to the youth: “For your kindness I will give you a piece of advice: Believe me, men are all bad. Never do a good turn for a man; if you do, he will do you harm at the first opportunity.” The second day, ’Mvoo Laana found a snake in the same trap. He started to the village to give the alarm, but the snake shouted: “Come back, son of Adam; don’t call the people from the village to come and kill me. I am Neeo′ka, the snake. Let me out of this trap, I pray you. Save me from the rain to-day, that I may be able to save you from the sun to-morrow, if you should be in need of help.” So the youth let him go; and as he went he said, “I will return your kindness if I can, but do not trust any man; if you do him a kindness he will do you an injury in return at the first opportunity.” Haamdaanee Once upon a time, in a quiet little village, there lived a poor man named Haamdaanee. He was so poor that he searched through the dust heap every day, hoping to find a few grains of millet to eat. One day, while scratching around, he found a shiny dime. Though it wasn’t much, it felt like treasure to him. Soon after, a kind countryman passed by, carrying a basket of gazelles. With his dime, Haamdaanee bought one small gazelle and named it Keejeepaa. From that day forward, they became the best of friends. Haamdaanee cared for Keejeepaa as if it were his own child. He shared his millet grains, and at night, they curled up together in his tiny hut. Then, one magical evening, Keejeepaa spoke! At first, Haamdaanee was frightened, but the gazelle calmed him. Keejeepaa explained that he would go out each day to find food for himself, and promised always to return by evening. And just as he said, every night Keejeepaa came back, faithful and true. One day, while roaming far into the forest, Keejeepaa discovered a sparkling diamond hidden under some grass. He knew it was too precious for his poor master, who might be harmed if people accused him of stealing. So Keejeepaa carried the diamond all the way to the great sultan of the land. The sultan was amazed by the gazelle’s gift and, thinking it came from a mighty king, promised his daughter in marriage to Keejeepaa’s master, who he now believed was Sultan Daaraaee. Back home, Keejeepaa told Haamdaanee the news. The poor man could hardly believe his ears! The clever gazelle dressed him in fine clothes and guided him to the sultan’s palace. Everyone welcomed Haamdaanee as a king, and soon, he married the princess. The poor beggar had become a royal, all thanks to his faithful gazelle friend. But Keejeepaa’s adventures didn’t stop there. The gazelle traveled to faraway lands and even battled a giant seven-headed snake to win a grand palace for his master. With each brave act, he made sure Haamdaanee had more than enough—a home, food, and honor. The once-poor man lived in comfort, while everyone marveled at Keejeepaa’s loyalty and courage. Time passed, and people whispered that perhaps Haamdaanee did not appreciate the gazelle as much as he should. Keejeepaa had done so much for him, yet the master often forgot to show gratitude. Still, the gazelle’s heart remained kind. He forgave Haamdaanee again and again, for deep down, he cared for him as a true friend. Every evening, after all the adventures of the day, Haamdaanee and Keejeepaa would rest in their great palace. The gazelle would curl at his master’s feet, and together they would drift to sleep, safe and warm. Though many things changed in Haamdaanee’s life, one thing always stayed the same—his loyal gazelle, Keejeepaa, who never broke his promise to return. And so, dear child, remember this: sometimes the smallest kindness, like buying a gazelle with a single dime, can bring the greatest blessings. And true friends—no matter their shape or size—are treasures brighter than any diamond. Mkaaah Jeechonee, the Boy Hunter Once upon a time, there was a sultan named Maaj′noon who had seven sons and a cat he loved very much. The sultan was proud of his family and proud of his cat, but the cat had a strange habit. It began to catch animals—first a calf, then a goat, then a cow. Each time the people complained, the sultan only said, “The cat is mine, and the animal is mine.” So nothing was done. The cat grew bolder and caught bigger animals—a donkey, a horse, even a camel. When the people warned the sultan, he grew angry and told them not to speak against his cat. Before long, the cat was no longer just catching animals. It began to attack people too. But still, the sultan refused to stop it. One day, the cat leapt from the forest and killed three of the sultan’s sons. Only then did the sultan realize this was no ordinary cat. It was the noondah—a fierce and terrible beast known as the “eater of the people.” Soldiers tried to kill it, but the noondah was too strong. The sultan mourned his sons, and the land was filled with fear. The youngest son, Mkaaah Jeechonee, was always left at home and called “Mr. Sit-in-the-kitchen.” But when he heard what had happened, he said, “I must go and face the noondah. Either I will defeat it, or it will defeat me.” His mother begged him to stay, but he was brave and determined. She gave him food for his journey, and off he went with his attendants. At first, Mkaaah Jeechonee mistook other animals for the noondah. He brought home a dog, a civet cat, a zebra, even an elephant, but each time his mother said gently, “My son, this is not the noondah, eater of the people.” Still, he refused to give up. He was determined to protect his family and his people. At last, he climbed a great mountain. From its peak, he looked down and saw a strange beast, broad and short, with small ears, blotches on its body, and a thick tail. His heart told him this was truly the noondah. Carefully, he and his attendants crept close and fired their weapons all together. This time, the mighty beast fell and did not rise again. With great effort, they dragged the noondah back to the town. As they arrived, Mkaaah Jeechonee sang, “Oh, mother, I have killed the noondah, eater of the people.” His mother looked out and cried with joy, “Yes, my son, this is the noondah, eater of the people!” The people gathered to celebrate, and the land was safe again. From then on, Mkaaah Jeechonee was no longer “Mr. Sit-in-the-kitchen.” He was the hero who had saved his people. When his father passed away, he became sultan, and he ruled with wisdom and courage. The people loved him, and he lived a long, happy life, with the memory of his great adventure always in his heart. The Magician and the Sultan’s Son There was once a sultan who had three little sons. Try as they might, no one could teach the boys to read or write, and this made the sultan and his wife very sad. One day, a magician came and offered to teach the children. The sultan agreed, and in a short time the magician taught them to be fine scholars. Then, as promised, the sultan kept two sons, and the magician took the third—whose name was Keejaanaa. The magician’s house was big and filled with many locked rooms. Before leaving on a journey, he gave Keejaanaa the keys and told him he could explore. In one room, Keejaanaa found gold, and in others, he discovered piles of bones—goats, oxen, horses, and even people. At last, in the seventh room, he found a live horse named Faaraasee, who whispered, “This magician is not your father. He eats everything he can catch. You and I are the only ones left.” Faaraasee made a plan. He told Keejaanaa to set him free, and then to trick the magician when he returned. The horse explained everything carefully: pretend not to know how to fetch wood, how to light a fire, or how to play the magician’s games. Then, when the magician showed him how, Keejaanaa must push him into the great pot of boiling butter. Keejaanaa agreed, though he was nervous. When the magician came back, he asked Keejaanaa to gather wood, light the fire, and stir the pot. Each time, Keejaanaa only shook his head and said, “I don’t know how.” The magician grew impatient and did the work himself. Finally, he tied up a swing and told Keejaanaa to play. Keejaanaa asked him to show first. As soon as the magician swung high, Keejaanaa gave one strong push—and into the boiling pot the magician fell. Keejaanaa quickly ran to the big tree where Faaraasee was waiting. He climbed onto the horse’s back, and together they fled. Meanwhile, the magician’s guests arrived, looking for their host. Hungry, they found the stew in the pot and ate it all up, never knowing it was the magician himself. After waiting in vain for days, they left the house empty. Far away, Keejaanaa and Faaraasee stopped near a large town. There, Faaraasee coughed up all the gold he had swallowed, and with it, they built a fine house and bought all they needed. The people marveled at their wealth and told their sultan. Soon, the sultan came to meet the young stranger, and the two became good friends. In time, Keejaanaa married the sultan’s daughter, and they had a son. He and Faaraasee lived happily in their new home, safe at last from the wicked magician. Keejaanaa was no longer the little boy taken from his father’s house, but a wise man with a family of his own. And so, with courage, cleverness, and the help of a faithful friend, Keejaanaa’s life became full of peace and joy. And every night, as he rested, he remembered the horse who had once whispered, “We are the only ones left”—and who had helped him find a new beginning. The Physician’s Son and the King of the Snakes Once there was a kind woman who had a little boy named Hasseeboo Kareem Ed Deen. His father had been a wise physician, but he had passed away when Hasseeboo was just a baby. As Hasseeboo grew, his mother tried to teach him many trades—tailoring, silversmithing, and others—but he never seemed to learn them. So at last, she said, “Stay at home for a while,” and that suited him just fine. One day, Hasseeboo asked about his father’s work. When he learned his father had been a great physician, he searched for the old books of medicine. But they were ruined and hard to read. Soon after, four neighbors invited him to join them in cutting wood, and his mother bought him a donkey so he could work with them. For days he chopped wood and earned money. But one rainy day, they sheltered under rocks, and Hasseeboo found a hollow sound beneath the ground. When they dug, they discovered a deep pit full of honey. The men lowered Hasseeboo down to gather the honey, while they carried it away to sell. For three days, they became rich from the honey. But when little remained, they pretended to fetch a rope for Hasseeboo, then left him trapped at the bottom of the pit. Alone for days, he ate scraps of honey and wondered what would happen to him. At last, he noticed a scorpion fall from a crack, and with his knife, he dug a hole large enough to escape. Outside, Hasseeboo found a strange path that led to a shining golden house. Inside, everything glittered with pearls and jewels. He lay down on a soft couch, but soon felt himself gently lifted. When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by snakes. One wore royal colors and spoke kindly: “I am Sultaanee Waa Neeoka, king of the snakes. Who are you?” Hasseeboo told his story, and the snake-king shared his own tales of travelers, magicians, and wandering princes. The snake-king welcomed Hasseeboo, fed him sweet fruits, and kept him safe. But one day, he warned, “When you return home, danger will follow. Do not bathe with many people, or harm will come.” Hasseeboo promised he would remember. The king then sent him home, where his mother wept with joy to see him alive. But the sultan of the land was very ill, and the vizir whispered that only the soup made from the king of the snakes could cure him. Guards watched the public baths for a boy with a mark upon his body. When Hasseeboo forgot the warning and went to bathe, they seized him and forced him to lead them back to the snake-king’s home. The king sighed, “Didn’t I say you would return to bring my death?” Yet he forgave Hasseeboo and gave him secret instructions. Just as the snake-king foretold, his body was cooked into medicine. The vizir gave Hasseeboo the first skimming, but Hasseeboo saved it in a bottle. He drank the second, which gave him wisdom as a physician. The third healed the sultan, who grew well again. When the vizir asked about the first skimming, Hasseeboo tricked him into drinking it—and the wicked man fell dead. From that day forward, Hasseeboo was honored as a great physician, wise and kind, and he lived a life full of peace, healing, and gentle respect. The Physician’s Son and the King of the Snakes Once there was a wise physician who passed away, leaving his wife with a little baby boy. When the boy grew old enough, she named him Hasseeboo Kareem Ed Deen, just as his father had wished. Hasseeboo went to school and learned to read, but he could not master any trade. His mother sent him to a tailor, a silversmith, and many others, but nothing suited him. At last she sighed and said, “Stay at home for now,” and Hasseeboo was content. One day Hasseeboo asked about his father’s work, and his mother told him he had been a great physician. Curious, Hasseeboo searched for his father’s old books, but they had been ruined by insects. Soon after, four neighbors invited him to join them in cutting wood. His mother bought him a donkey, and he worked with them for several days, earning good money. On the seventh day, rain drove them under the rocks for shelter. As Hasseeboo tapped the ground with a stone, he discovered a hollow sound. The men dug and uncovered a deep pit full of honey! They lowered Hasseeboo into the pit to gather it, and for three days they sold honey and grew rich. But when only a little was left, they left him trapped at the bottom and never returned. Alone, Hasseeboo ate scraps of honey and tried to sleep. On the fourth day, he noticed a scorpion falling through a crack. With his knife, he widened the hole and escaped into a strange new land. Following a path, he found a shining house with golden doors, pearl keys, and jeweled chairs. Inside, he lay upon a fine couch and soon was lifted gently into a chair. When he awoke, he was surrounded by snakes—one wearing royal colors. The snake said kindly, “I am Sultaanee Waa Neeoka, king of the snakes. This is my home. Who are you?” Hasseeboo told his story, and the king welcomed him with fruit and rest. They shared tales of wandering men and enchanted adventures. The snake-king warned Hasseeboo before sending him home: “Never bathe where many people gather, or danger will follow.” Hasseeboo promised to remember. Back home, his mother wept with joy. But the sultan of the land was gravely ill, and the vizir whispered that only the body of the king of the snakes, boiled into a soup, could cure him. Guards searched the baths for a boy with a mark on his stomach. Hasseeboo forgot the warning and was seized. Beaten by the vizir, he finally agreed to lead them to the snake-king. When the snake-king saw Hasseeboo, he sighed, “Didn’t I say you would come back to bring my death?” Hasseeboo showed his bruised back and cried, “I could not help it.” The king forgave him and gave him secret instructions: “When I am cooked, the vizir will offer you the first skimming. Save it in a bottle. Drink the second, for it will make you a great physician. The third will heal your sultan. When the vizir asks, pretend you drank the first. Then give it to him, and he will perish.” Everything happened just as the snake-king foretold. The vizir drank the deadly potion and died, the sultan was healed, and Hasseeboo gained wisdom from the second skimming. From that day on, he was loved and honored as a great physician, and he lived with kindness and peace, never forgetting the king of the snakes who had once been his friend.
