The tales of two men and the evil women in their lives - An Egyptian Folktale
This weekend I'll be so glad and ready to watch my team play, oh yes, the best team in the world - Fc Barcelona. We have made so much signings and i just can't wait to see them play. I love football and i play when i get the chance as much i watch. But one interesting thing about me is that i don't let rivalry stop me from enjoying the football other teams play. The last concluded 2017/2018 season produced a spectacular player in the English Premier league - Mohammed Salah and He is an Egyptian.
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This is a video of some of his displays that even rivals must applaud.
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What intrigues me about him isn't just his skills or goals but also his conduct both on and off the pitch. We grew up with the mindset that Egypt may not actually produce good people due to our bible story knowledge and they seem not to appear in good light anytime they are mentioned. But here is Mo Salah and i wish he'd play for Barcelona though liverpool will say no.
This made me dig deep about Egypt and i had friends through social media that told me alot about their way of life and prior before then we were talking about women and how we should be careful about who we choose as our spouse and then this friend of mine who had travelled to a lot of places told me this Egyptian story about women and how they almost ruined a family.
He began..
There were once two loving brothers named Hossam and Hassan. Hossam was the elder and he was married and owned a farm. Hassan came to live with his elder brother and the wife. He worked hard and cheerfully for them. He ploughed or reaped, milked the cows, gathered wood and completed a dozen other tasks each day. There was no one to compare with him for strength and willingness and he was so wise in the ways of animals that he could understand their language.
Every morning when he drove the cattle to pasture they would tell him where the lushest and freshest of grass was to be found and he would take them there. So the cattle became fat and the whole farm prospered because of Hassan.
One morning Hossam said to his brother, ‘Yoke a team of oxen tomorrow and bring some sacks of seed to the field; it is time to begin ploughing.’
Hassan did as his older brother had ordered and the two brothers spent the next few days ploughing the fields and sowing barley and wheat. They were pleased with their work but when they came to the last field there was not enough seed left, so Hossam sent his brother back to the house to fetch some more.
Hassan looked for his brother’s wife, who was in charge of the storeroom, and found her sitting in the sun braiding her newly washed hair.
‘Get up and fetch me some seed,’ he said to her. ‘Hossam is waiting and I must hurry back.’
All she did was to tease out a tangle with her deft fingers and answered without looking up, ‘The storeroom’s open. Fetch it yourself. Can’t you see I’m busy with my hair?’
Hassan went off to find a large container and then measured out enough seed to finish the sowing.
He came out of the storeroom with a huge load slung across his shoulders, but his back was still straight and his walk sprightly. Hossam’s wife watched him through a curtain of hair and murmured, ‘How much are you carrying there?’ ‘The weight of three sacks of wheat and two of barley,’ answered Hassan.
‘How strong you are!’ said Hossam’s wife admiringly. ‘Strong and handsome.’ She got up and stroked the muscles of his arm. ‘Come into the house with me, just for an hour. I promise I will be good to you, and my husband will never know about it.’ Hassan dropped his load and backed away. ‘What are you saying ? Do you think I would betray the brother who raised me ? He’s like a father to me and you should be like a mother. I won’t tell anyone about you, but never say such things to me again !’ He picked up his load and strode off to the fields.
Hossam’s wife was furious with Hassan for rejecting her but she was also frightened that he might after all tell someone what she had done. So she ripped her own clothes, worked grease into her skin to make it look as if she was covered in bruises and lay down on her own bed to wait. When the brothers had finished ploughing, Hassan went to drive the cattle home but Hossam walked straight back to the house. He soon realised something was wrong. No fire had been lit, no food had been cooked and his wife did not hurry to greet him as she usually did. Instead he found her lying on her bed, moaning and weeping. Her clothes were torn and she seemed to be badly bruised. Hossam knelt by the bed and demanded to know what had happened.
‘When your brother came to fetch the seed, he saw me braiding my hair,’ she sobbed. ‘He tried to kiss me and make love to me but I pushed him away. I told him that you were like a father to him and that he should respect me as his mother. Then he was angry and beat me cruelly and said that he would hurt me even more if I dared to tell you what had happened. O husband, kill him for me, begged Hossam’s wife, or I shall never know a moment’s peace!’ He believed his wife’s story and his anger was as fierce as a leopard’s. He sharpened a spear and stood in the shadow behind the door to the cattle byre, waiting to kill his brother.
Hassan returned with the cattle at dusk and drove them towards the cowshed but the leading cow turned her head and lowed softly, ‘Your brother hides with his spear behind the door. He means to kill you. Run while you can.’
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Hassan could not believe such a thing. He patted the cow on her rump and sent her into the cowshed, but when the next cow gave him the same warning he stooped down and saw his brother’s feet behind the door. He became afraid and he began to run. His elder brother pursued him, spear in hand, and anger gave him speed and strength.
Swiftly as Hassan ran, his brother began to gain on him. Dripping with sweat and gasping for breath, he prayed to Dra,
‘O my good lord, who judges between the wicked and the innocent, save me now!
Dra heard Hassan’s plea and caused a river to flow between the two brothers. The river was wide and deep and full of hungry crocodiles so Hossam dared not cross it. He was so furious that he struck his own hand for failing to kill his brother. Hassan paused on the far bank and shouted, ‘Brother, Ra delivers the wicked to the just, but we must be parted.
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Why have you tried to kill me without even giving me a chance to explain?’ ‘Do you deny that you tried to seduce my wife?’ yelled Hossam, full of rage and pain.
‘By Dra, it is a lie,’ declared Hassan. ‘You have the story crooked. When I came back from the fields it was your wife who tried to seduce me and I who refused her. You almost murdered your brother for the sake of a worthless liar. By my own blood, I swear that this is the truth!’ In his distress, Hassan took a reed knife and wounded himself. When he saw the blood gush out, Hossam believed his brother and was sick at heart. Hassan sank to the ground, weak with loss of blood and Hossam longed to help him, but he could not cross the river. ‘We must part,’ repeated Hassan in a feeble voice. ‘I shall go to the Valley of the Cedar to find healing.
Remember me kindly and listen now. I shall hide my heart in the cedar tree and if that tree is ever cut down I shall be in danger of death. If a jug of beer suddenly ferments in your hand, you will know that the worst has happened. Then you must come to the Valley of the Cedar and search for my heart, even if it takes you seven years. When you find it, place the heart in a bowl of cool water and, though I seem dead, I will revive.’ Hossam promised to obey his brother’s words and went sadly home. He killed his wife with the spear he had sharpened for Hassan and threw her body to the dogs.
Many days later Hassan reached the Valley of the Cedar that lay in the desert hills close to the sea and rested there till his wound was healed. He lived by hunting the desert game and slowly built himself a fine house in the shadow of the great cedar tree that gave the valley its name. Among the branches of the tree he hid his heart. He soon had everything he wanted; except a companion.
One day the Ennead - a company of gods were walking in the valley and came upon the house of Hassan. The nine gods pitied his loneliness and Dra ordered one of the gods named Khnum to make a wife for Hassan on his potter’s wheel. When the gods had breathed life into her she was the most beautiful woman ever created, but even the Ennead could not give her a loving heart.
The Ennead were pleased with her beauty and they gave her to Hassan. ‘Your brother has killed his wicked wife,’ said Dra, and you are avenged. Now, virtuous Hassan, here is a wife for you, to be your companion in this lonely place.’
As soon as Hassan saw her, he loved her and he knew that whoever met her would desire her. ‘Stay in the house while I am out hunting,’ he warned his wife, ‘or the sea itself may try to carry you off and there would be little I could do to save you.’
Hassan’s wife nodded meekly but she soon grew bored with being shut up in the house and one day while Hassan was hunting she went outside for a walk. As she stood beneath the cedar tree, the sea saw her and surged up the valley to embrace her. She screamed and turned to run but the sea bellowed to the cedar tree, ‘Catch her for me!’ The cedar bowed down and its lowest branch caught in her hair. She struggled free and fled into the house, leaving a single lock of her hair tangled in the branch. The sea tore the lock from the cedar tree and carried it away to the very shores of Egypt, where the Nile seized it. Caressed by the river, the beautiful hair floated to the place where the royal washermen were laundering the clothes of Pharaoh. They dipped his fine linen tunics in the Nile, beat them on the rocks and spread them out to dry but the scent of the lock of hair had filled the river and it perfumed the clothes, too.
When Pharaoh next put on a clean tunic he complained that it smelled of a woman’s scent. The washermen protested that they had added no perfume but every day the clothes of Pharaoh came out of the river smelling sweetly. One morning the overseer of the royal washermen paced the riverbank, making sure that everything was done as it should be. Suddenly his eye was caught by a shining lock of hair tangled in a clump of reeds. The overseer waded into the river to fetch it and as soon as he touched it he knew that he had found the source of the mysterious perfume. When the-lock was dry it was taken to Pharaoh and he and all his court were sure that they had never seen hair of such a lustrous black, that felt so soft or smelled so sweetly. ‘Surely such hair must belong to a daughter of Dra,’ said the wise men of the court and Pharaoh longed to make such a woman his queen. ‘Let envoys travel to every foreign land to search for her,’ suggested the wise men, ‘but we have heard that the most beautiful of all women lives in the Valley of the Cedar, so send twenty envoys there.’ Pharaoh was delighted with their advice and eagerly awaited the return of his messengers.
One by one the envoys came back from the foreign lands to say that their search had failed. Last of all a single wounded envoy returned from the Valley of the Cedar. Hassan had killed all the rest when he had discovered their errand. The surviving messenger promised Pharaoh that Hassan’s wife was the woman he sought, so a great army was sent to fetch her. With the army travelled an old woman whom Pharaoh had chosen for her cunning tongue. When they neared the Valley of the Cedar the old woman went ahead of the army and persuaded Hassan’s wife to let her into the house while he was away hunting. The old woman took out a casket of precious jewellery that Pharaoh had sent as a gift for Hassan’s wife. There were golden anklets, bracelets of lapis-lazuli, amulets of silver and turquoise; the old woman told Hassan’s wife that Pharaoh loved her and waited to make her Queen of all Egypt. Greedy for the jewels and bored with her life in the lonely valley, Hassan’s wife agreed to go to Egypt but she was afraid of her husband’s vengeance. Long before, Hassan had told his beloved wife where his heart was hidden and now she used the secret to destroy him. The Egyptian soldiers were summoned and told to hack down the cedar tree. As it fell, Hassan clutched his chest and died and his wife decked herself in Pharaoh’s jewels and went with the soldiers. When Pharaoh saw her, his heart leaped with joy and he made her his chief queen. At the very moment when Hassan was killed, Hossam saw the beer in his jug bubble and froth and he knew that something terrible had happened. He put on his sandals, snatched up a staff and a spear and set out for the Valley of the Cedar. There he found his younger brother stretched out on the ground. Hassan’s limbs were stiff and cold and he no longer breathed. Hossam carried his brother into the house and wept over him, but he did not yet despair. Remembering Hassan’s words, he began to search for his brother’s heart amongst the branches of the fallen cedar.
For three years he searched in vain. By the beginning of the fourth year he was longing to be back in Egypt and he said to himself, ‘If I don’t find the heart tomorrow, I shall go home.’ He spent all the next day bent-backed amongst the fallen branches and, just as he was about to give up, his foot struck against something. He thought at first that it was only a withered cone but when he took it into the house and lit a lamp he saw that he was holding his brother’s heart. Hossam put the heart in a bowl of cool water, placed the bowl beside his brother’s body and settled down to wait. All through the night his heart swelled as it absorbed the water and when it reached its true size, Hassan’s body twitched and his eyes flew open. He stared up at his brother, still too weak to speak. Hossam held the bowl to Hassan’s lips and he drank the remaining water and swallowed his heart. Then all his old strength returned to him and Hassan leaped up and embraced his brother.
They spent the day talking over the past and planning revenge on Hassan’s cruel wife. ‘Tomorrow, I shall transform myself into a fine bull of a size and colour that no-one has ever seen before,’ said Hassan. ‘Then you must ride on my back to Egypt. When Pharaoh hears about us, he will want me for his own. Take the rewards he will offer you and go home. Then my revenge will begin.’
The next morning Hassan changed himself into a huge golden bull with markings as blue as lapis and Hossam mounted on his back. As they travelled through Egypt people flocked to see the marvellous bull and when Pharaoh heard about it he gave thanks to the gods because he was sure that the bull must be their messenger. Hossam rode his brother to the gates of the palace and Pharaoh rewarded him with gold and silver, land and slaves. Hassan was garlanded with flowers and allowed to wander wherever he liked in the palace and its grounds. At first everyone was in awe of him but they soon learned to trust his gentleness. In all his wanderings Hassan was only looking for one person and at last he found her.
One morning the queen herself was in the palace kitchens, overseeing the preparation of sweetmeats for Pharaoh. Hassan came up behind her and touched the queen with the tip of his horns. ‘Look at me; I am alive.’ The queen turned and stared at the bull in amazement. ‘Who are you?’ she whispered. ‘I am Hassan,’ said the bull. ‘I know that it was you who told Pharaoh’s soldiers to chop down the cedar tree. You wanted me dead but I am alive.’ Then, as the queen stood trembling with horror, Hassan paced slowly out of the kitchen. In the cool of the evening, Pharaoh sat down to feast with his queen. She wore her filmiest dress and her finest jewels and as she poured out his wine, Pharaoh thought her more beautiful than ever.
‘Sovereign, my lord,’ murmured the queen, ‘will you swear by the gods to grant whatever I desire? Do you love me enough for that?’ Pharaoh kissed her and promised that he would. The queen smiled. ‘I desire to eat the liver of the great bull. He does nothing but wander about the palace all day, so why not slaughter him?’
Then Pharaoh was angry and upset at her request but he had given his word and the queen refused to change her mind. The very next morning Pharaoh proclaimed that the marvellous bull was to be sacrificed to the gods. The royal slaughterers seized Hassan, roped his legs, threw him to the ground and cut his throat. As the bull died, his blood spattered the pillars on either side of the palace gate. The body was cut up and offered on the altars of the gods but the liver was cooked and given to the queen and she ate it with pleasure.
At dawn the next day the palace gatekeeper ran to Pharaoh’s bedchamber and said, ‘O, Sovereign, my Lord. A great marvel has happened! Two beautiful persea trees have sprung up in the night in front of the pillars before the great gate!’
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Then Pharaoh rejoiced, sure that this was another sign of the favour of the gods; and no one knew that the trees had sprung from Hassan’s blood. A few days later Pharaoh and his queen rode in golden chariots to the palace gate and made offerings to the marvellous persea trees. Then thrones were brought and Pharaoh sat in the shade of one tree and his queen beneath the other while priestesses sang and danced in honour of the gods.
Pharaoh sat smiling but amongst the rustling of leaves his queen heard a voice: ‘False one, you told Pharaoh’s soldiers to cut down the cedar tree, you made Pharaoh slaughter the bull, but I am Hassan, I am alive!’ Then the queen was very much afraid. The next time she was alone with her husband the queen used all her womanly arts to please him and made him promise to grant any wish she named.
‘Those two persea trees are useless standing at the gate,’ she said. ‘Have them chopped down and made into furniture for me.’ Pharaoh was uneasy at the thought of cutting down the mysterious trees but the queen sulked and wheedled until he agreed. The following morning she went with Pharaoh to watch the royal carpenters cut down the persea trees. At the first axe stroke, a splinter of wood flew up and entered the queen’s lips and the moment she swallowed it she became pregnant.
After many months the queen gave birth to a handsome boy but she did not know that her son was Hassan. Pharaoh loved the child and made him crown prince and as the years passed he grew up to be strong and handsome and wise. If the queen found that her son was cold towards her and noticed a growing resemblance to her murdered husband, she dared not speak.
In due time Pharaoh died and rejoined the gods and the crown prince succeeded him. No sooner was the coronation over than the new Pharaoh summoned the queen his mother. In front of the whole court Hassan recounted the story of his strange life. He told of his flight from his brother’s house, of the woman the gods had given him for a wife and how she had betrayed him.
‘Surely such a woman is worthy of death,’ said Hassan and his courtiers agreed. The queen was led away, weeping, to die by the knife.
Then Hassan sent for his beloved brother and together they ruled Egypt for thirty years.
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End of story.
I looked at my friend and shook my head, he then said, 'trust no woman, they are evil'. I retorted, did you tell me this exceedingly long story to scare me?
I Agree you need to be careful about the women in your life, but as for me, i am blessed with one, her name is Blessing and we are cool.
My friend then said, 'you are lucky, anyway if Mo Salah is a good man, there must be good women in Egypt, i'll definitely find one'. I wished him good luck and we parted ways.
I'm no fan of stereotypes. However that's the world we live in apparently.
I enjoyed this story a lot. It is very well written and amazing
I guess since @dante31 is here, i shouldn't be afraid.
Thanks boss