This tale that originated in west Africa is a reminder for all of us to heed Jesus’s admonition: “Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.”
In the town of Tendella in the kingdom of Seno, north of the Gulf of Guinea, there lived a rich man whose name was Kaddo. His fields spread out on every side of the town. At plowing time hundreds of men and boys hoed up his fields, and then hundreds of women and girls planted his corn seed in the ground for him. His grain bulged in his granary, because each season he harvested far more than he could use. The name of Kaddo was known far and wide throughout the kingdom of Seno. Travelers who passed through the town carried tales of his wealth far beyond Seno’s borders.
One day Kaddo called all of his people in the town of Tendella together for a big meeting in front of his house. They all came, for Kaddo was a very important man, hence they knew that what he had to announce was surely equally important.
“There is something that bothers me,” Kaddo said. “I’ve lain awake worrying . I have so much corn in my granary that I don’t know what to do with it.”
The people listened attentively and pondered Kaddo’s words. Then a man said:
“Some of the people of the town have no corn at all. They are very poor and have nothing. Why don’t you give some of your corn to them?”
Kaddo shook his head and said, “No, that isn’t a very good idea. It doesn’t satisfy me.”
Another man said to Kaddo:
Well, then you could lend your excess corn to the people who have had a bad harvest and have no seed for spring planting. That would be very good for the town and would keep poverty away.”
“No, Kaddo answered, “that’s no solution either.”
“Well, then, why not sell some of your corn and buy cattle instead?” another asked.
Kaddo shook his head.
“No, that’s not very good advice. It’s hard for common people to advise a rich man with problems like mine.”
Many others in the gathered crowd made suggestions, but nobody’s advice suited Kaddo. He thought for a while, and at last he said:
“Send me as many young girls as you can find. I will have them grind the corn for me.”
The people went away. They were angry. But the next day they sent a hundred girls to work for him as he had asked. On a hundred grindstones they began to grind Kaddo’s corn into flour. All day long they put corn into the grindstones and took flour out. All day long the people of the town heard the sound of the grinding at Kaddo’s house. A pile of corn flour began to grow. For seven days and seven nights the girls ground the corn without pause.
When the last grain of corn was ground into flour, Kaddo called the girls together and said:
“Now bring water from the spring. We shall mix it with the corn flour to make mortar out of it.”
So, the girls brought water in pots and mixed the water with the flour to make thick mortar. Then Kaddo ordered them to form bricks out of the mortar.
“When the bricks are dry, then I shall make a wall of them around my house,” he said.
Word spread throughout Tendella that Kaddo was preparing to build a wall of flour around his house, and the people of the town gathered at Kaddo’s door to protest.
“You can’t do a thing like this; it is against humanity!” they said. Another shouted out loudly, “It’s not right, people have no right to build walls out of food!”
“Ah, what is right and what is wrong?” Kaddo replied. “My right is different from yours because I am so very rich So leave me alone.”
“Corn is to eat, so that you may keep alive,” another shouted. “It is not meant to taunt those who are less fortunate.”
“When people are hungry it is an affront to shut them out with a wall of flour,” shouted another.
“Stop your complaints,” Kaddo said. “The corn is mine. It is my surplus. I can’t eat it all. It comes from my own fields. I am rich. What good is it to be rich if you can’t do what you want with your own property?”
The people of the town went away, shaking their heads in anger over Kaddo’s madness. The hundred girls continued to make bricks of flour, which they dried in the sun. And when the bricks were dry, Kaddo had them begin building the wall around his house. They used wet dough for mortar to hold the bricks together, and slowly the wall grew. They stuck cowry shells into the wall to make beautiful designs, and when at last the wall was done, and the last corn flour used up, Kaddo was very proud. He walked back and forth admiring his wall. He walked around it. He went in and out of the gate. He was very happy.
And now when people came to see him, they had to stand by the gate until he asked them to enter. When the workers who plowed and planted for Kaddo wanted to talk to him, Kaddo sat on the wall by the gate and listened to them and gave them orders. And whenever the people of the town wanted his opinion on an important matter, he sat on his wall and gave it to them, while they stood below and listened.
Things went on like this for a long time. Kaddo enjoyed his reputation as the richest man for mile around. The story of Kaddo’s wall spread to the farthest part of the kingdom.
And then one year there was a bad harvest for Kaddo. There wasn’t enough rain to grow the corn, and the earth dried up hard and dusty like the road. There wasn’t a single ear of corn in all of Kaddo’s fields or the fields of his relatives.
The next year it was the same. Kaddo had no seed corn left, so he sold his cattle and horses to buy corn for food and seed for a new planting. He sowed corn again, but the next harvest time it was the same, and there wasn’t a single ear of corn on all his fields.
Year after year Kaddo’s crops failed. Some of his relatives died of hunger, and others moved away to other parts of the Kingdom of Seno, for they had no more seed corn to plant, and they couldn’t count on Kaddo’s help. Kaddo’s workers left because he was no longer able to feed them. Gradually, Kaddo’s part of the town became deserted. All that he had left were a young daughter and a mangey donkey.
With his cattle and money now all gone, Kaddo became very hungry. He scraped away a little bit of the flour wall and ate it. The next day he scraped some more and ate that. The wall got lower and lower. Little by little it disappeared. Finally, a day came when the wall was gone. Nothing was left of Kaddo’s elegant structure that he had built to surround his house and on which he sat when the townspeople would come and ask him to lend them a little seed corn.
Finally, Kaddo realized that if he was to survive, he must get help from someone somewhere. He wondered who might help him. Not the people of Tendella, for he had insulted and mistreated them and they would have nothing to do with him. There was only one who he could go to—Sogole, the king of the Ganna people, who had the reputation of being as generous as he was rich.
So Kaddo and his daughter got on the mangy, underfed donkey and rode seven days until they arrived in the land of the Ganna.
Sogole sat before his royal house when Kaddo arrived. He had a soft skin put on the ground next to him for Kaddo to sit upon and had millet beer brought for the two of them to drink.
“Well, stranger in the land of Ganna, take a long drink, for you have a long trip behind you if you come from Tendella,” Sogole said.
“Thank you, but I can’t drink much,” Kaddo said.
“Why is that?” Sogole asked. “When people are thirsty, they drink.”
“That is true,” Kaddo replied. “But I have been hungry too long, and my stomach is shrunk.”
“Well drink in peace then, because now that you are my guest you won’t be hungry. You shall whatever you need from me.”
Kaddo nodded his head solemnly and drank a little of the millet beer.
“And now tell me,” Sogole said. “You say you come from the town of Tendella in the Kingdom of Seno? I’ve heard many tales of that town. The famine came there and drove out many people because they had no corn left.”
“Yes,” Kaddo said. “Hard times drove them out, and the corn was all gone.”
“But tell me, there was a rich and powerful man in Tendella named Kaddo, wasn’t there? What ever happened to him? Is he still alive?”
“Yes, he is still alive,” Kaddo replied.
“A fabulous man, this Kaddo,” Sogole said. “They say he built a wall of flour around his house out of his surplus crops, and when he talked to his people, he sat atop the wall by his gate. Is this true?”
“Yes, it is true,” Kaddo answered sadly.
“Does he still have as many cattle as he used to?” Sogole asked.
“No, they are all gone.”
“It is an unhappy thing for a man who owned so much to come to so little,” Sogole said. “But doesn’t he have many servants and workers still?”
“His workers and servants are all gone,” Kaddo said. “of all his great household he has only one daughter left. The rest went away because there was no money and no food.”
Sogole looked melancholy.
“Ah, what is a rich man when his cattle are gone and his servants have left him? But tell me, what happened to the wall of flour he built round his house?”
“He ate the wall,” Kaddo answered. “Each day he scraped a little of the flour from the wall, until it was all gone.”
“A strange story,” Sogole said. “But such a life.”
And he thought quietly for a while about the way life goes for people sometimes, and then he asked:
“And were you, by chance, one of Kaddo’s family?”
“Indeed, I was one of Kaddo’s family. Once I was rich. Once I had more cattle than I could count. Once I had many cornfields. Once I had hundreds of workers cultivating my crops. Once I had a bursting granary. Once I was Kaddo, the great personage of Tendella.”
“What! You yourself are Kaddo?”
“Yes, once I was proud and lordly, and now I sit in rags begging for help.
“What can I do for you?” Sogole asked.
“I have nothing left now. Give me some seed corn, so that I can go back and plant my fields again.”
“Take what you need,” Sogole said. He ordered his servants to bring bags of corn and to load them on Kaddo’s donkey. Kaddo thanked him humbly, and he and his daughter started their return trip to Tendella. They traveled for seven days. On the way Kaddo became very hungry. He hadn’t seen so much corn for a long time. He took a few grains and put them in his mouth and chewed them. Then he took a few more and did the same. Then he put a whole handful in his mouth and swallowed. He couldn’t stop. He ate and ate. He forgot that this was the corn that was given to him to plant his fields. When he arrived at Tendella, he went to his bed to sleep, and when he arose the next morning, he ate again. He ate so much of the corn that he became sick. He went to his bed again and cried out in pain because his stomach had forgotten what to do with food. And before long Kaddo died.
Kaddo’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren in the kingdom of Seno are poor to this day. And to the rich men of the country the common people sometimes say:
“Don’t build a wall of flour around your house.”
Have an AWE-full Weekend!
William “Bill” Bacque