The tale of the boy who tricked a tyrant - Paschal Kyiiripuo Kyoore
Shock seized the West African Dagara
village as word traveled of a new decree.
Completely disregarding
time-honored naming rituals,
the tyrannical chief declared that,
going forward,
he alone would name
the village’s children.
But an unlikely challenger
eventually appeared...
One day, a mother was taking her newborn
to the chief’s house to be named
when her baby asked where they were
going from his crib.
She told him, and he responded
that they could return home
because he already had a name
and it was Yagangnaa,
meaning “wiser than the chief.”
So, they did just that.
Years later, while hunting lizards
near the chief's house,
a friend called Yagangnaa’s name,
which caught the chief’s attention.
He knew he hadn't given any child a name
that insulted his own authority.
When he asked Yagangnaa who named him,
and the boy replied that he named himself
the chief grew furious.
He committed himself
to proving his superiority—
and punishing Yagangnaa’s family.
First, he called on Yagangnaa and gave him
a huge basket full of millet and pebbles.
He told Yagangnaa to have his mother brew
“pito,” or millet beer,
by the end of the day, so the chief
could entertain his farm workers.
Upon hearing the chief’s orders,
Yagangnaa’s mother wept.
It was impossible to separate
the millet from the pebbles.
And everyone knew it took
weeks to make pito:
the millet had to be soaked, dried,
ground, boiled, then fermented
in days-long stages.
So, Yagangnaa decided to retaliate
with another insurmountable task.
He sent the chief gourd seeds
and asked him to prepare calabash cups
that same day to hold the pito
his mother was making.
The chief would have to wait
for the seeds to germinate
and the plants to bear fruit, then
harvest, carve, and dry them—
the work of an entire farming season
all in one day.
Realizing Yagangnaa was onto him—
and one step ahead—
the chief ordered him
to return the millet.
Next, he instructed Yagangnaa to look
after his bull
until it produced enough cattle
to fill his kraal
and pay his sons’ bridewealths.
Without protesting that he’d need a cow,
not a bull, to do this,
Yagangnaa agreed.
The next day, he began cutting dry
wood near the chief's house.
When the chief asked what he was doing,
Yagangnaa said he needed wood
to cook and warm his house
because his father had
just delivered a baby.
The chief laughed and said
that was impossible,
to which Yagangnaa asked why
it should be impossible
for his father to deliver a child
if the chief thought his bull
was going to produce cattle.
One-upped once again, the chief ordered
Yagangnaa to return the bull—
and decided to take extreme measures.
He told Yagangnaa to accompany his son
on an errand
and provided him a beautiful horse
and expensive clothes.
Meanwhile, the chief's own son wore
tattered clothing and rode a weak horse.
Sensing the chief's new trick brewing,
Yagangnaa offered to trade
with the chief’s son, who agreed.
But the chief had given
his men grisly orders.
And moments later, a poisoned arrow flew
towards the well-dressed boy
on the beautiful white horse,
striking and killing the chief’s son
while Yagangnaa escaped.
Ever fixated on eliminating Yagangnaa,
the defiant boy who named himself,
the chief invited him over for
a pito drinking spree.
He dug a well and covered it
with a cowskin
to create a deceitfully decorative seat.
But, by now, Yagangnaa knew
the chief’s plans,
and dug a tunnel connecting his house
with the chief’s well.
Later, when Yagangnaa arrived
and graciously took his seat,
he fell into the pit.
The chief ordered his wives
to pour hot pito into the hole.
But Yagangnaa swiftly escaped
through the tunnel
and asked his mother to collect
the pito that soon followed.
The chief thought he’d finally succeeded—
until receiving a message from Yagangnaa
the next day
asking to reciprocate the
chief’s generosity,
inviting him for pito.
Realizing that Yagangnaa had
outwitted him again,
the chief conceded.
And finally he abolished his decree
and returned the power of naming
back to his people,
where it belonged.
