Producer of Yogurt

There once was a woman called Mamasilo, who went out one day to cultivate a new field. But she did not know that this field actually belonged to a powerful god—or spirit, if you prefer that word—who sometimes appeared in the form of a bird. To Mamasilo, the field was just wilderness, weeds, and shrubs—a place to make a garden—so she proceeded to clear it away with her hoe. But after she had worked an entire day, Mamasilo was suddenly startled by a sound: “rrrr …” It was a little bird perched on a shrub that she had not cleared away yet. The bird sang a song in a human voice:

I am Senyamafi!
This field belongs to me.
Weeds grow tough! Shrubs come back!
Of the hoeing leave no trace or track!

At once, all of Mamasilo’s work was undone. The grass that she bad uprooted with so much effort grew back as thick as before, and the shrubs she had pulled out with all her might sprouted back in place, more firmly rooted and thornier than ever. As the sun was setting, it was too late for Mamasilo to start all over again. So, sadly, she returned home and told her husband about the bird that called itself Senyamafi (which roughly translates “Producer of Yogurt”).

However, her husband was undaunted, and he devised a plan. The next day they went out to the field together. Following her husband’s instructions, Mamasilo dug a deep hole, in which her husband set down. Then she filled the hole back up with dirt until only his hand stuck out of the earth. Once again, she began to hoe and clear the field. And once again, as her labors came to an end and sunset approached, the bird returned to sing its little song. But this time, Senyamafi perched on the hand that stuck out of the ground, thinking it was a branch. The hand quickly closed and caught the bird. Mamasilo dug up her husband and together they set out for home with their prize.

The bird protested: “I am Senyamafi, I can make you yogurt. Set me free and I will give you food, I will fill your pots!”

“At home,” said the man. “We go home first!”