Once upon a time in the animal kingdom, a terrible famine struck. The famine was so severe that all the animals had nothing to eat. Hunger tormented them, and their bodies grew weak. The lion, the king of the animals, became so thin that his bones stuck out through his skin. The Ìjàpá, once plump and healthy, grew so feeble that his shell pressed tightly against his neck.
One day, the lion, as the king of the animals, called for a meeting, summoning all the creatures to gather. During the meeting, they reached a desperate resolution: since there was no food, each animal should kill and eat their own mother to survive. Without hesitation, all the animals followed the dreadful advice they killed and ate their mothers.
However, there was one exception: the Ajá refused to kill his mother. His mother, unlike the others, was his only source of food. She had always ensured he found something to eat, even in difficult times. Instead of killing her, the Ajá hid his mother high up in a tree to keep her safe.
Days passed, and soon, all the animals returned to their previous state of hunger. They had finished eating their mothers and had no more food. The Ìjàpá, who had initially regained strength after eating his mother, became weak again. Hunger tormented him even more than before.
But then, the Ìjàpá noticed something strange: the Ajá did not seem to suffer as much as the others. This puzzled him. He suspected that the Ajá had found a secret way to get food. Determined to uncover the truth, the Ìjàpá decided to spy on the Ajá.
One day, as the Ìjàpá saw the Ajá walking through the town, he quietly followed him. He was careful to remain unnoticed, hiding behind bushes and moving stealthily. He was sure that if he followed long enough, he would discover where the Ajá was getting food.
As the sun began to set, the Ajá made his way to the tree where he had hidden his mother. He had no idea that the Ìjàpá was secretly trailing him. Just as he was about to sing the special song that signaled his mother to lower a rope, the Ìjàpá suddenly appeared!
Surprised, the Ajá had no choice but to share his secret. The Ìjàpá pleaded with the Ajá to take him to the mother so they could eat together. Left with no other option, the Ajá agreed.
The Ajá began to sing:
“Mother, mother, lower the rope!”
“Alujanjankujan!”
“All the animals have eaten their mothers!”
“Alujanjankujan!”
“But I hid mine high in the tree!”
“Alujanjankujan!”
Upon hearing this song, the Ajá’s mother lowered a rope, and both the Ajá and the Ìjàpá climbed up to feast on the food she had prepared. Once they had eaten to their fill, they climbed back down.
The next day, to the Ajá’s shock, the Ìjàpá revealed the secret to the other animals. He gathered all his friends and told them about the hidden source of food. The Ìjàpá invited all his friends, boasting that he knew a place where they could eat to their satisfaction.
But then, when the time came for the song to be sung, the animals crowded onto the rope. The Ìjàpá, eager to take the lead, sang the special song:
Ìjàpá began to sing:
“Mother, mother, lower the rope!”
“Alujanjankujan!”
“All the animals have eaten their mothers!”
“Alujanjankujan!”
“But I hid mine high in the tree!”
“Alujanjankujan!”
Then the mother lowered the rope, but just as she was climbing, the dog was about to eat so she came around, she suddenly realized something was wrong. Her voice trembled as she cried out:
“Mother, mother, cut the rope!”
In a moment of terror, all the animals that had climbed the rope fell to the ground, crashing to their deaths.
She realized that the Ajá had betrayed her secret. Furious and heartbroken, she cut the rope! And so it was, the Ìjàpá’s greed and betrayal led to the downfall of many.