35. Tortoise (Ijapa) and Pig (Ẹlẹdẹ)

Many, many years ago, in a town called Lagoni, in a faraway land, there lived a tortoise, Ijapa, and a pig, Ẹlẹdẹ. Ijapa and Ẹlẹdẹ were very good friends. At that time the world was very different from the way it is today. Human beings and animals had a lot in common. They lived side by side, intermingling freely. Animals spoke like humans and generally behaved like humans – forming groups and making friends. They were even addressed and referred to as if they were humans – some animals possessing remarkable physical and mental capabilities. The tortoise, Ijapa, was an example of this phenomenon.

Although Ijapa and Ẹlẹdẹ were very good friends, they could not be more different from each other. Others – in particular Ẹlẹdẹ’s family members – could not understand how the two of them came to be such good friends in the first place, and it was of concern to them because they believed that Ijapa was using Ẹlẹdẹ. They believed that Ijapa was friends with Ẹlẹdẹ because of what he could get from him.

“Ẹlẹdẹ is extremely hard-working, whereas Ijapa is such a lazy so-and-so. He doesn’t do any work unless he can’t help it, although right now he seems to be working, and that must have something to do with Yannibo…” some of them were saying, and it was true. Ijapa was very lazy indeed. When others were hard at work, he was either sleeping or taking it easy.

“What’s more, Ẹlẹdẹ is generous to a fault whilst Ijapa is a miser. He’s not nick-named Ahun*, Abahun*, Alabahun* (miser) for nothing. What do they have in common, for goodness sake?” others were wondering.

Ẹlẹdẹ was very strong and resilient; he was well-to-do and successful at his work as a travelling trader. Ẹlẹdẹ was very popular among friends and neighbours in their town. Humans and animals alike liked him because he was kind-hearted – ready to help others, and very supportive of them – ready to lend them money for trading or to sustain themselves. He could give his last penny to someone. He hated seeing others in need, and any time this happened he felt he should intervene. Many human beings and animals borrowed from him.

Ẹlẹdẹ was kind and generous, and excessively so to his friend, Ijapa. Ẹlẹdẹ was always helping his friend out, and this was why others were concerned for him. They believed that they knew Ijapa far better than Ẹlẹdẹ did. They believed that Ijapa pretended to like Ẹlẹdẹ because of the money he was getting from him, and there was not a single day that Ijapa did not seek out his friend. But they also knew that, kind-hearted as he was Ẹlẹdẹ hated to be taken advantage of.

Everybody knew about Ijapa – about his laziness and lack of money, except Ẹlẹdẹ. Ẹlẹdẹ was new in town. He had come to Lagoni on a visit and decided to live on.

“Ẹlẹdẹ doesn’t know Ijapa very well, and if and when he does, God help Ijapa. He doesn’t know that Ijapa is a blackguard – a user” one concerned neighbour was saying to another.

“But then, Ẹlẹdẹ is not a fool and there’s a limit to how he can allow others to take advantage of him. What’s more, you know him and his temper. I hope Ijapa doesn’t experience Ẹlẹdẹ’s temper one day!” the other added.

Ẹlẹdẹ’s main fault was his temper. As kind-hearted and generous as he was those around him had noticed that he had a bad temper. He was slow to anger but would fly off the handle over things that one would not necessarily get angry about. If any one wronged him slightly he would behave like a hooligan.

“Only the other day Ẹlẹdẹ lost his temper with someone over what for goodness sake? I can’t even remember. Nothing important. He was so livid and looked as if he was going to jump at the person’s neck and grabbed him by the shirt.”

“Yes. He has to learn to control his temper. I hope it doesn’t get him into trouble one of these days and ruin an otherwise fine character”.

It was not the first time that Ijapa’s friendship with another had caused a stir. When Ijapa was living in a town called Offala, his close friendship with a squirrel, Okere, had been a source of gossip among the others there, because the two animals had nothing in common. He had once been friends with a python, Ọjọla, in this town, another animal he had nothing in common with, until Ọjọla was mean to him and Ijapa retaliated.

Ijapa’s close association with others was not surprising, because, despite his faults, he was very popular in some quarters – among humans and animals alike. Ijapa was witty and amusing, which others found entertaining, especially when he fell flat on his face. He was also resourceful and resilient which others found admirable. However, Ijapa was a devious character, which got him into trouble frequently, resulting in his being punished or injured (sometimes gravely), or driven away by the Ọba*(ruler) of his town. Sometimes he would leave town of his own accord, disgraced or embittered.

Ijapa had been working for a change. His estranged wife, Yannibo, whom he had re-united with the second time around, must have been nagging and nagging at him to find work. By the time Ijapa made the acquaintance of Ẹlẹdẹ he and Ẹlẹdẹ were two travelling traders who had met when they both travelled together outside their town to trade at a neighbouring town. In talking they discovered that they lived in the same town.

“I’ve just moved to Lagoni” Ẹlẹdẹ informed Ijapa. I just came to visit my cousin and, in the end decided, to stay on. There are a lot of prospects in this town.

With Ẹlẹdẹ’s encouragement the two animals bought goods. They journeyed to other markets and sold what they had bought. They also bonded. But although their activities were the same, they were not equally successful. Ẹlẹdẹ became rich, while Ijapa grew poor. Ẹlẹdẹ was very strong and resilient; he was extremely hard-working whereas Ijapa was very lazy. There were times when Ijapa did not bother to do anything at all.

So, it was not surprising that Ẹlẹdẹ became very successful. Ẹlẹdẹ went on to have a large farm near his house, and in this farm, he planted yams and maize, and other things.

Ẹlẹdẹ tried to help Ijapa to become successful, to get him to work harder, but to no avail. Ijapa continued to do badly. Eventually he got into trouble with creditors to whom he owed a lot of money and planned to run away from them. That was how Ẹlẹdẹ saw Ijapa being rough-handled one day by a gang. He was held around the neck.

“Pay us back what you owe us. Otherwise we’ll come after you. You have a family don’t you…?”

They were threatening Ijapa in all sorts of ways, and immediately Ẹlẹdẹ felt sorry for him, and came to his rescue.

“Leave him alone!” he ordered, pushing himself into the way of the gang, who were obviously Ijapa’s creditors.

“I’ll pay back whatever he owes you” Ẹlẹdẹ intercepted.

The gang recognized Ẹlẹdẹ, whom they had heard about, and knowing that his financial situation was considerable, released Ijapa. Ẹlẹdẹ agreed to settle Ijapa’s debts, and then asked Ijapa to come and see him the following day.

“Something has to be done about you and money, Ijapa. You can’t continue like this – always in debt. I’m going to rack my brains and see what I can do for you to sort yourself out once and for all.”

Ijapa was happy to hear Ẹlẹdẹ speak in this way. He knew that Ẹlẹdẹ had always been supportive of him.

“It looks as if Ẹlẹdẹ now sees me as more than a close friend – as if we’re brothers” he could not help thinking. “Which means that he sees himself as responsible for whatever happens to me – that however I behave will reflect on him if others see us as brothers. It means that if I do anything wrong – if I bring disgrace upon myself, he’d be affected. What it all boils down to is that I can’t do wrong in Ẹlẹdẹ’s eyes, and he’ll do anything for me!” Ijapa continued thinking joyfully, not knowing that Ẹlẹdẹ did not see things quite in the same way. So, when he got to Ẹlẹdẹ’s house the following day he was very eager to tell his friends about all his financial difficulties.

“It’s not only the money I owe my creditors that’s the problem. Unfortunately, things are very bad for myself and my family. We have no money for food to eat. Yannibo has just had a baby, and I have to do the naming ceremony which involves money. So, if you can lend me enough to cover all these expenses, including the money I owe my creditors, I’ll repay you with thanks.

Ẹlẹdẹ said nothing for a while. He just nodded.

“I’ve racked my brains as to how you can sort yourself out once and for all, Ijapa. You have to stand on your own two feet. I believe that instead of risking failure in your trading as you’ve been doing, you should think of farming. There’s a small farmland near where my farm is which belongs to me where you can grow things like maize and yam like I do. I can lease it to you free of charge. I can also clear your debt with your creditors and give you some extra money to start your farming, and to live on, from the sum of money I’ve put aside for my own business, which I don’t need immediately. The only thing is that I’ll need the money back without fail. Otherwise my own business will suffer, and you know that I don’t play around with that.”

Ẹlẹdẹ then went on to name the sum of money that he was willing to lend Ijapa, and how Ijapa would pay the money back.

“You can grow your yam and maize etc, harvest them, and sell them at the market. You can give me half of the proceeds and keep the other half for spending money. You’ll have more than enough to pay my money back and yet live comfortably. I’ll expect you to pay back the money within a year – within twelve consecutive harvests.”

Ijapa agreed to Ẹlẹdẹ’s proposal. In fact, he was so overwhelmed, and had tears in his eyes. He thanked Ẹlẹdẹ profusely, saying:

“I’ll pay you back, don’t worry. I’ve done some farming before but owing to circumstances beyond my control…I’ll start farming again, and very soon I’ll harvest some yams and maize, and sell them at the market.”

Ijapa was not new to farming. He remembered the farming he had done in the past – how he had let it go to waste but hid this fact from Ẹlẹdẹ. He also remembered when he was married briefly to the daughter of a snail, Igbin, who was a farmer, how he had pretended to have a farm, and how he had succeeded in knowing everything that was going on at Igbin’s farm, including harvest times. Eventually Ijapa had stolen from Igbin and was disgraced publicly. There was also the time when he had leased a small portion of land from a kind farmer elsewhere and pretended to be hard at work when all along, he was observing a young lady, Kerebuje, whom he had designs on.

Ijapa paid back his debtors and celebrated the naming ceremony, inviting neighbours, friends and acquaintances to a party. It was marked well, and the following day all the people he entertained came back to thank him, bringing all kinds of presents for the new-born and its mother: money, food, clothes, gold.

After this Ẹlẹdẹ did not see or hear from Ijapa every day as he used to. In fact, Ijapa started to avoid him gradually.

“Well, that’s good! Let him get on with it!” Ẹlẹdẹ said to his wife. From then on, each time it was harvest time, Ijapa dug the yam and maize, sold them, and kept the money. He spent the money lavishly, putting nothing aside for Ẹlẹdẹ. It was not that he did not remember his agreement with Ẹlẹdẹ, but he had borrowed the money with no intention of paying it back, firmly believing that his friends would always help him out no matter what, not caring what difficulties he might put his benefactor in.

Ẹlẹdẹ had his own farm, as we know, not far from Ijapa’s farmland, where he grew yams and maize and other things, and he knew when it was harvest time. He had grown fresh yams and maize for Ijapa and himself after leasing the farmland to Ijapa, free of charge, and had his eyes on things. He knew each time that Ijapa reaped and harvested his yams and maize and sold them at the market. So, he expected Ijapa to pay him back as agreed after one year. After a year had passed, he waited for his money, and nothing happened.

Ẹlẹdẹ waited and waited for Ijapa to return the money borrowed after another harvest. When this did not happen, he got up and went past Ijapa’s farmland, and was surprised that Ijapa’s yams and maize had been fully harvested again. When he got back home, he sent one of his workers to Ijapa to remind him of his promise to pay back the money borrowed.
Ijapa sent back word:

“Please tell Ẹlẹdẹ not to be angry. I’ve not forgotten our agreement, but something serious cropped up – some unforeseen difficulties at the time of harvesting, and this is why he hasn’t heard from me. Tell him to please be patient, and as soon as some more maize and yams are ripe for plucking, I’ll sell them, and add the money to the amount put aside without delay.

Ẹlẹdẹ swallowed whatever anger he felt, and exercised patience, although he was counting on getting back the money from Ijapa so that he would not put himself in any financial in difficulties.

“There’s no one who doesn’t have difficulties at times. How long does it take for crops to harvest? Not long. I’ll be patient, and it’ll be worth it in the end” he thought.

The crops grew and matured, and it was harvest time again, and Ijapa sold everything completely, put the money in his pocket to spend on all sorts of things – most of them unnecessary. He forgot about Ẹlẹdẹ. He had really no intention of paying back the money owed.

“Everyone knows where his shoes pinch. I’d better look to myself first. It’s all right for Ẹlẹdẹ. He’s rich. He’s not in want for anything because he has everything. I, on the other hand, live from hand to mouth”.

That was how Ijapa started to think of himself only, sitting on Ẹlẹdẹ’s money, and did not pay it back.

It was not true that Ijapa was living from hand to mouth. On the contrary. Since Ẹlẹdẹ’s kind financial gesture, Ijapa had been doing better, and had been spending money lavishly recently, which did not surprise Ẹlẹdẹ who had been hearing rumours. Ijapa had, apparently been seen on a shopping spree, and had been heard talking carelessly about Ẹlẹdẹ. All the same the latter stuck to his firm belief that Ijapa would be paying back his money with no promptings from him. He decided to ignore the rumours and give Ijapa benefit of doubt.

Ẹlẹdẹ’s wife was sceptical. She had been against Ẹlẹdẹ lending Ijapa the money from the beginning. She was one of those who were uncomfortable about Ẹlẹdẹ’s relationship with Ijapa. Ẹlẹdẹ had been arguing with her that Ijapa would soon show up with the money.

“Why haven’t we heard from him all this time? If he has any intention of paying you back, surely he would have been to see us from time to time.”

“Ijapa had better not mess with me!” Ẹlẹdẹ replied after giving the matter some thoughts. “Ijapa doesn’t know me. I can give someone a long rope, but if I’m pushed too far…Well!”

Yannibo, Ijapa’s wife, on the other hand, was apparently appalled by her husband’s spending spree and his attitude towards Ẹlẹdẹ and had been urging him to let them go and see Ẹlẹdẹ, and explain things to him, and promise to pay back the loan as soon as possible, but Ijapa was not bothered.

“Don’t worry about Ẹlẹdẹ. He’s my friend. He has a lot of money, and this loan wouldn’t make any difference to him. He can afford to overlook it!”

When the next harvest came and Ijapa dug his yams and maize and sold them at the market without still paying Ẹlẹdẹ’s money back, Ẹlẹdẹ saw red, and sent word to Ijapa once more.

“Ijapa, please send the money to me. I want to use it without delay. You’ve dug some yams and maize, and sold them, and yet you’ve not paid back my money. I’ve been more than patient with you. You have to give me back my money; I’ve worked hard for it. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”

Ijapa sent word back to Ẹlẹdẹ, asking him to be patient a while longer.

“I’ll send the money to you in seven days’ time. I’ve some yams which I’m planning to sell in the market”.

Ẹlẹdẹ agreed reluctantly.

After seven days Ẹlẹdẹ waited and waited to hear from Ijapa to no avail. He got angry and went to Ijapa’s house. When he got there, he found Ijapa near the fire seemingly unwell.

“I’ve not been well, as you can see, Ẹlẹdẹ. Didn’t you get my message? Please bear with me and go home. I’ll come and see you as soon as I’m better. I hope this illness will not be the end of me!”

However, Ẹlẹdẹ was not buying any of that. It was either Ijapa had the money or he did not.

“What has your not being well got to do with it? Do you think I don’t know what’s going on, why you are friends with me? Do you think that I don’t know that you’ve been spending a lot of money on yourself, buying unnecessary things, on entertaining others using the proceeds from the yams and maize that you regularly harvest and sell at the market? I’ll come back in five days’ time, and you’d better have my money ready!”

“Let me make myself clear, Ijapa.” he continued. I’ve put up with all this because of my nature. But enough is enough. You’ve your own two hands, why don’t you do something with them? Just make sure you have my money ready for me in five days’ time. Otherwise you’ll be sorry.

You remember what your creditors were going to do to you before I rescued you? That’d be nothing compared with what I’ll do to you, you lousy, good-for-nothing creature. I’ve made a mistake in lending you the money, especially from my business account which I don’t play around with, and it’s affecting my work already, but I won’t let you drag my business down any further, because this is what creatures like you try to do. Just find my money for me, otherwise…”

“Ijapa thinks he can take me for a ride, but he’s wrong. He doesn’t know me” Ẹlẹdẹ was indeed thinking. He was completely beside himself with anger saying all sorts of nasty, insulting, horrible and threatening things to Ijapa one after the other – giving his temper full reins.

What was happening between Ẹlẹdẹ and Ijapa became the talk of the town, and Ẹlẹdẹ was being laughed at behind his back, although it was glaring that sooner or later Ẹlẹdẹ would retaliate. Ẹlẹdẹ was hot-tempered and was capable of behaving very badly when angry.

“Ijapa thinks he can take me for a ride, but he’s wrong. He doesn’t know me. Ẹlẹdẹ was indeed thinking, mindful of the concern shown by some others about his relationship with Ijapa – that Ijapa was taking advantage of his friendship.

“He should not have lent him the money, but his being too kind-hearted got in the way. He could not have done otherwise” they were saying.

Unfortunately, kind-hearted or not when pushed too far, Ẹlẹdẹ’s temper always took over. We should not forget that Ẹlẹdẹ had a bad temper, and whenever he lost his temper, he would lose his head and would be capable of anything. He hated to be taken advantage of, and now he was the talk of the town. Even his wife held him in contempt over the whole issue.

“Better say goodbye to the money” she had said, again and again. Little did Ẹlẹdẹ know that worse was to come.

Ijapa knew the kind of behaviour Ẹlẹdẹ was capable of if he did not have his money ready for him on the agreed day, so he started to rack his brains as to how to outsmart him.

Then an idea struck him, and he called his wife, so that they could put their heads together.

“Yannibo! Ẹlẹdẹ is coming back for his money in five days’ time. Listen carefully to how we can escape from him.”

“I don’t want to hear! I won’t do it! I’ve advised you countless of times to return Ẹlẹdẹ’s money. I’ve warned you again and again that Ẹlẹdẹ would get very angry with you, but you wouldn’t listen. You’d better find a way of getting his money ready for him…” Yannibo lamented, turning her back on Ijapa.

“But I don’t have anything to give him, and he has threatened me – in much worse a manner than those creditors he rescued me from! You know how the creditors got a gang to rough-handle me. They held me around the neck, and asked me to pay back what I owed, otherwise they would come after me. They also asked me if I had a family. They threatened me in all sorts of unimaginable ways…”

Yannibo turned back to face Ijapa, in shock. She had not known about any creditors threatening Ijapa, or about Ẹlẹdẹ’s threats either. She knew that Ẹlẹdẹ was very angry about Ijapa’s treatment of him, and rightly so, but she would not have imagined that Ẹlẹdẹ would actually cause bodily harm to anyone. Suddenly Yannibo remembered hearing others saying that Ẹlẹdẹ had a bad temper, and that whenever he lost his temper, he would lose his head and would be capable of anything.

“What have you done, Ijapa? What have you done?” Yannibo asked Ijapa shaking her head in despair. “You know how much I hate the way you play tricks on others, and some of the other ways you behave. How often have you promised to change your ways, just to get me back? You’re despicable, and I’m ashamed to be dragged down to your level, by going along with whatever you have up your sleeves. You leave me no choice but…”

“In five days’ time, you’ll sit close to our front door and look out for Ẹlẹdẹ’s arrival” Ijapa interrupted before Yannibo could change her mind.

“As soon as Ẹlẹdẹ appears in the distance, run inside quickly, lay me down on my back and cover me with mud so that I look like ọlọta (grinding stone). I’ll draw my hands and feet into my shell, so that I do indeed look like ọlọta. Then put a few seeds – you know melon seeds and perhaps some peppers – on my chest, get hold of an ọmọ ọlọta (small stone used for grinding), and start grinding. Just grind away no matter what Ẹlẹdẹ says, and don’t answer him if he asks questions. Pretend to be hard at work, and whatever he says or does, don’t stop; just keep grinding.

“We know that Ẹlẹdẹ has a bad temper, and I’m sure that after a while he’ll get angry and throw the ọlọta away through the window. If he does that, grab him and ask him to give you back your ọlọta – the ọlọta that your husband bought for you and paid a lot of money for. You must insist on getting the ọlọta back and not the money paid for it. If he throws me out thinking he’s throwing our ọlọta away, I’ll quickly enter by the back door, and the two of us will grab him, tell him to give us back the ọlọta, and refuse to pay back his money unless he does so.

“You can tell him that I’m out, owing to circumstances beyond my control, that you know I’d been keeping his money aside somewhere – in a safe place but don’t know exactly where. I’d, unfortunately, not mentioned where exactly. Then later when we both grab him and ask him to give us back our ọlọta, I can tell him that his money is kept in an opening in the ọlọta! Keep a straight face so that he doesn’t get suspicious.”

Yannibo was not surprised by what Ijapa had just said. After all she knew her husband very well by now – knew that he was capable of any tricks to get by. However, she was very reluctant to comply with Ijapa’s wishes, even though she knew that she had no choice. Intercepting her reluctance, Ijapa begged her and promised that from then on, he was going to sit down and take stock of his life so far, in order to find a way forward.

“This is the first and the last time I’ll do this type of thing” Yannibo said, shaking her head vigorously.

Thus, Yannibo agreed, reluctantly, to comply with her husband’s wishes, and prepared for Ẹlẹdẹ’s arrival. Very early in the morning of the day that Ẹlẹdẹ was coming, Yannibo sat at the entrance of their house, looking out for Ẹlẹdẹ. Very soon they heard Ẹlẹdẹ greeting neighbours and co-tenants, but when he got to Ijapa’s house, he was fuming, muttering under his breath, ranting and raving.

“Now! Remember what I told you the other day…” Ijapa started.

Yannibo went inside quickly and did as Ijapa had instructed her to do, grinding away on Ijapa’s chest. Ijapa had laid quickly on the ground and withdrawn his legs and arms inside, and his back did look like ọlọta.

“Where’s your husband?” Ẹlẹdẹ asked Yannibo, not bothering to offer the usual customary greetings. He was very angry.

Yannibo continued with her grinding – grinding away – saying nothing, as agreed.

“What a hard-working woman? Where’s your husband? Where’s Ijapa?” Ẹlẹdẹ asked Yannibo again. I’ve come for my money – the money I lent him.”

Yannibo said nothing.

“Didn’t you hear me, woman?” Ẹlẹdẹ roared.

“It’s better for you to wait for Ijapa. He had to go out unexpectedly, but he’ll soon be back. I’ll just get on with my grinding if you don’t mind.

Ijapa will expect to eat as soon as he comes. I’m grinding melon seeds, pepper and some medicine, which I’ll put inside the stew I’m making. Ijapa hasn’t been in good health for quite a while, you know…”

Yannibo said nothing. She continued to grind as though Ẹlẹdẹ had not spoken.

“Answer me, woman!”

“Get on with your grinding if I don’t mind and ignore me!” Ẹlẹdẹ wailed. Do you think I care about what you’re grinding – that it’s more important than my money?” he demanded, trying to hold on to his temper.

Yannibo did not answer. She continued grinding away, without even looking up at Ẹlẹdẹ, and Ẹlẹdẹ lost his temper completely.

“Grind away then. Is the pepper, melon seeds and medicine you’re grinding so important to you that you forget your manners and don’t answer me? All right, I’ll show you that you can’t be rude to older people than yourself in this way. I’ll throw your grinding stone and whatever you’re grinding away into the bush.”

Ẹlẹdẹ moved fast towards Yannibo and snatched the ọlọta from underneath her.

“To hell with what you’re grinding” he roared as he threw the ọlọta out of the window as far as possible into the bush nearby. He did not know that he had actually thrown Ijapa out. Yannibo grabbed Ẹlẹdẹ, wailing about her ọlọta.
Ijapa got up promptly, shook off the mud from his body, and the pepper and melon seeds, and pretended that he was just on his way back home. He heard Yannibo wailing about her ọlọta when he got there. By now, the neighbours and co-tenants had gathered round.

“What’s all this din? Yannibo, what on earth is going on here? Why are you wailing, woman?” Ijapa cried out.

Yannibo held on to Ẹlẹdẹ.

“You’ve thrown my ọlọta away! Give it back to me! After all I’m not the one who owes you money. You’re not going anywhere. My husband has just bought this very expensive ọlọta for me; it is precious to me, and I can’t part with it! I won’t even accept money from you for it if you offer it. It’s my ọlọta I want…”

“You’ve to agree that I was patient with you all the time you shouted at me. I didn’t say anything until you threw the ọlọta out…” she continued.

“Oh hello, Ẹlẹdẹ, my good friend!” Ijapa turned to Ẹlẹdẹ pretending to be aware of him for the first time. I was called out unexpectedly, and instead of keeping you waiting here I thought I should bring your money to you. However, I needed to change clothes before doing so.”

“Well I am here, so let’s get a move on. Where is my money?” Ẹlẹdẹ answered.

Yannibo continued to wail, still holding on to Ẹlẹdẹ, and Ijapa turned to her.

“Stop wailing Yannibo” he commanded.

“No, I won’t” Yannibo answered between sobs. “Didn’t you hear me? Ẹlẹdẹ threw my ọlọta away with what I was grinding on it for you.”

“No way!” Ijapa replied.

“I was very angry”, Ẹlẹdẹ said. “She ignored me when I was talking to her and provoked me by not answering my questions. I am sorry. I’ll go and get the ọlọta.”

The neighbours and co-tenants who had descended upon them to see what was going on blamed Ẹlẹdẹ for his temper.

“Ha Ẹlẹdẹ! What’s happening here? Isn’t it Ijapa who owes you money? Why have you quarrelled with his wife to so an extent that you had to throw her ọlọta away? It’s not her fault at all. You’re over the top! You should have controlled your anger. It’s true that Ijapa should have paid you back your money all this time, and no one can blame you for being angry. But to come to someone’s house, get angry and throw away something precious to them. Why couldn’t you have waited calmly for her Ijapa’s return. You’d better go and find her ọlọta and give it back to her.”

Ijapa rushed towards Ẹlẹdẹ to grab him.

“It’s unfortunate that you’ve thrown the ọlọta away because without it I can’t pay back your money. My goodness, what have you done? You’ve thrown away not only the ọlọta, but your money – the money I was going to give you.” He then went on to explain that he had hidden the money at a secret place in the ọlọta.

Ẹlẹdẹ said “Nothing is lost. All I have to do is to go to your backyard and look for the ọlọta. I didn’t throw it that far away.”
“Surely if the money’s inside the grinding stone as Ijapa claims, you can’t expect Ijapa to pay it back unless you can find the ọlọta – ọlọta that’s also very precious to the couple. If you can find the ọlọta that’d be a different story, so off you go” one of the people present remarked to Ẹlẹdẹ.

That was how Ẹlẹdẹ went into the bush and started to look for the ọlọta, not knowing that the ọlọta was, of course, Ijapa – that after throwing him into the bush thinking he was throwing Yannibo’s ọlọta away Ijapa had merely turned himself over and came back home. How or where was Ẹlẹdẹ going to find the ọlọta? That was a very big problem.

Ẹlẹdẹ started to search everywhere in the bush, digging the ground with his snout. He was frantic on two levels. Unless the ọlọta was found, he would not get his money back from Ijapa, and Ijapa did not want money in exchange for his ọlọta. He wanted his wife’s ọlọta back.

“Where on earth is this ọlọta if it’s not in this bush? I threw it away just now. It can’t be lost!” he kept on saying to himself as he searched and searched every nook and corner of the bush digging out the soil with his snout, thinking each time “It must be here!”

Unfortunately, the ọlọta could not be found anywhere.

“Well you can’t expect your money back from Ijapa unless you find the ọlọta, Ẹlẹdẹ. In fact, you should be the one to pay him for the lost ọlọta which by the sound of it is very expensive. See where your temper has landed you” everyone was now saying.
Since then Ẹlẹdẹ has been digging the ground everywhere with its snout. It’s Yannibo’s ọlọta that he threw away in anger that he’s been looking for up till today, and he’s never found it!