In the days of long, long ago, when the Good Lord N’gai first made his plans for all the creatures upon the earth, he crafted the hippopotamus as an animal of the forests and plains. In those ancient times, the hippo roamed freely across the land, browsing on the abundant grasses and vegetation that grew thick and green under the equatorial sun.
Life seemed perfect for the hippopotamus. Food was plentiful all around him, stretching as far as his eyes could see. No enemies troubled him, for what creature would dare challenge such a massive beast? But there was a problem with this easy life: the hippopotamus was greedy. He ate and ate and ate, finding no reason to stop when such abundance surrounded him. And so he grew fatter, and fatter, and fatter still.
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As the hippopotamus swelled to an enormous size, a new difficulty emerged. The larger he became, the more he suffered from the relentless heat of the equatorial midday sun. His thick hide offered no relief, and there was precious little shade to be found on the open plains. The sun beat down mercilessly, day after scorching day, until the poor hippopotamus thought he might melt like fat in a cooking pot.
Each day, when the heat became unbearable, the hippopotamus would waddle down to the river on his short, sturdy legs to take his drink. There, as he lowered his massive head to the water’s edge, he would gaze with deep envy at the little fishes that swam gracefully in the cool pool. The water was refreshed by the melted snows from the distant peak of Mount Kenya, that sacred mountain that touched the sky itself. The fishes seemed so content, so comfortable, darting about in their liquid world without a care.
“Oh,” the hippopotamus would sigh heavily, his breath rippling the water’s surface, “how wonderful it would be if I could live, like N’gai’s little fishes, in the clear, cool, refreshing water! If only I could escape this terrible heat!”
The hippopotamus pondered over his trouble for many days and many nights. He considered the problem from every angle, turning it over in his mind as he lay panting in whatever shade he could find. Finally, he came to a decision. He would approach the Lord of All Creation himself and make his plea.
One particularly hot day, when the sun blazed like a furnace in the cloudless sky and heat waves shimmered across the plains, the hippopotamus could bear it no longer. He lifted his great head toward the heavens and cried out loudly, “Please, Good Lord N’gai! Allow me to leave the forests and the plains. Let me live instead in the clear, cool waters of your rivers and lakes, for the heat of the fiery sun is killing me! I cannot endure another day of this suffering!”
From the heavens, the voice of Lord N’gai descended, clear and firm. “No,” replied the Great Creator. “My little fishes are very dear to me, precious beyond measure. If you were to live in the rivers and lakes, you might grow tired of eating only plants and grasses. You might try a change of your eating habits and begin to eat those little fishes. That would never do. No, you must continue to live upon the dry land where I placed you.”
The hippopotamus’s heart sank with disappointment. He stayed sadly in his home in the forests and plains, where the sun continued to beat down mercilessly on his unprotected hide, baking him like clay in a potter’s kiln. Days turned into weeks, and the hippopotamus grew more and more miserable.
“This is more than I can bear!” moaned the poor creature at last, his voice filled with desperation. “Please, please, Good Lord N’gai, let me leave the forests and plains and become a creature of the rivers and lakes! I promise most faithfully that I will not eat your little fishes. I give you my sacred word!”
The Great Lord N’gai heard the anguish in the hippopotamus’s plea. He looked down upon the plains, watching them bake in the intense heat of the tropical sun. He saw the hippopotamus suffering under the relentless glare, and slowly, gradually, his heart softened with compassion.
“Very well,” N’gai agreed after much thought. “I will allow you to live in my rivers and lakes, where the water will cool your hide and ease your suffering. But tell me this: how will you prove to me that you are not eating my little fishes? How can I trust that you will keep your promise?”
The hippopotamus thought carefully before answering, for he knew this was his one chance to convince the Creator. “I will lie in the cool of the water by day,” he explained, “and at nighttime I will come out to browse along the banks of the rivers and in the vleis, those marshy grasslands where vegetation grows thick. I promise most solemnly that I will not eat your little fishes.”
“But that will not be proof to me that you are keeping your promise!” pointed out The Great Lord N’gai with the wisdom of one who knows all things. “How will I know what you eat when darkness covers the land and I cannot see your actions?”
The hippopotamus considered this challenge. Then his eyes brightened with an idea. “Well then,” he answered with growing confidence, “I will come out of the water every time that food passes through my body, and I will scatter my dung on the earth with my tail. All that I have eaten will be spread out in your sight, laid bare for your inspection. You will see for yourself that there are no fish bones among it. Surely this will be proof enough that I am keeping my sacred promise!”
Lord N’gai considered this proposal and found it acceptable. “So be it,” he declared. “You may make your home in the rivers and lakes, but you must keep this agreement for all time.”
And so the hippopotamus joyfully entered the water, feeling the blessed coolness envelop his overheated body. What relief! What pleasure! He had found paradise at last.
From that day forward, the hippopotamus has lived in the rivers and lakes as N’gai permitted. True to his ancient promise, he spends his days submerged in the cool water, with only his eyes, ears, and nostrils showing above the surface. When night falls and the cruel sun disappears below the horizon, he emerges to graze on the grasses and plants along the riverbanks.
And whenever nature calls and it is time to scatter his waste, the hippopotamus comes out of the water onto the land. There he spreads his dung with his tail, scattering it wide so that it lies open and visible. As he does this sacred duty, he looks up to heaven and calls out, “Look N’gai, no fishes! See for yourself, I have kept my promise!”
And that is why, to this very day, the hippopotamus lives in the water but comes out to defecate on land, spreading his dung with his tail as proof of his faithfulness. And that is why hippos don’t eat fish!
The Moral Lesson
This Kikuyu folktale teaches us the importance of keeping our promises, especially those made to higher powers or authorities. The hippopotamus’s story shows us that earning trust requires not just words but tangible proof of our faithfulness. It also reminds us that when we ask for special privileges or changes to our circumstances, we must be willing to demonstrate our worthiness through consistent action. The hippo’s willingness to provide visible evidence of his promise-keeping even when that evidence is humble and unglamorous shows true integrity and accountability. Sometimes the price of getting what we want is eternal vigilance in proving we deserve it.
Knowledge Check
Q1: Who is N’gai in this Kikuyu folktale from Kenya? A: N’gai is the Good Lord and Creator in Kikuyu mythology, referred to as “The Lord of All Creation” and “The Great Lord.” In this story, N’gai is the divine being who created all animals and has the power to grant or deny the hippopotamus’s request to live in the water. N’gai is portrayed as wise, caring about his creations (especially the little fishes), and willing to show compassion while requiring accountability.
Q2: Why did the hippopotamus want to leave the land and live in the water? A: The hippopotamus suffered terribly from the heat of the equatorial midday sun because he had grown extremely fat from eating the abundant food around him. His thick hide offered no protection from the relentless sun on the hot plains. When he went to the river to drink, he envied the little fishes swimming in the cool water refreshed by melted snow from Mount Kenya, and he desperately wanted to escape the burning heat.
Q3: Why was N’gai initially reluctant to let the hippopotamus live in the water? A: N’gai was concerned that if the hippopotamus lived in the rivers and lakes, he might change his eating habits and begin eating the little fishes, who were very dear to the Creator. N’gai wanted to protect his beloved fishes from becoming the hippo’s prey, so he initially refused the request to ensure their safety.
Q4: What promise did the hippopotamus make to convince N’gai? A: The hippopotamus promised that he would not eat N’gai’s little fishes. To prove this promise, he agreed to come out of the water every time food passed through his body and scatter his dung on the earth with his tail. This way, N’gai could see all that the hippo had eaten spread out in plain sight and verify that there were no fish bones, providing visible proof of his faithfulness.
Q5: What does the hippo’s behavior of scattering dung symbolize in Kikuyu culture? A: The hippo’s behavior of coming onto land to scatter his dung represents accountability, transparency, and the keeping of sacred promises. It symbolizes the idea that when we make commitments—especially to divine or higher authorities—we must provide concrete evidence of our faithfulness. This behavior demonstrates integrity and the willingness to be held accountable for our actions in a visible, verifiable way.
Q6: What is the cultural significance of Mount Kenya in this story? A: Mount Kenya holds sacred significance in Kikuyu culture and is referenced as the source of the melted snows that cool the river waters. The mountain is traditionally considered a holy place in Kikuyu belief, often associated with N’gai’s dwelling or presence. Its mention in the story connects the natural landscape to the spiritual realm and emphasizes the divine origin of the cool, refreshing waters the hippopotamus desired.
Source: Adapted from Kikuyu oral traditions and folklore, Kenya
Cultural Origin: Kikuyu People, Central Kenya, East Africa
