In ancient times, when Europeans had just begun to appear in Africa, the local residents did not like them and left the cities where the newcomers settled.
There lived an old man in Zanzibar at that time. When he saw that there were more and more Europeans around, he decided to go to the mainland.
The old man was about to settle in a new place, but one evening he heard the ringing of a bell.
- What is this? he asked. He was told that in a neighboring house a European teacher was teaching the natives.
“Well, this is exactly what I was running from,” said the old man.
He rested for a few days and moved on. Arriving in another city, he asked about Europeans and was very happy to learn that they were not here. He gradually settled down, opened a trade, and his business went well. Six months passed like this. And then one day he heard the sounds of a drum.
- This is a caravan! - said the people.
And everyone saw a caravan entering the city. The head of the caravan rode behind.
Arriving at the place, he called the ruler of the city and told him:
“I was sent by my government to plant our flag here because this land belongs to my country.”
Then our poor old man realized that he could no longer stay here. He set off again and reached Nyasa.
[Nyasa is a lake in East Africa.]
But even there he met Europeans - rulers, traders, teachers, hunters, who had long lived in these places.
In deep grief, the old man set off again and returned to Zanzibar.
When he returned, he told the locals his story.
“But I’m not giving up yet,” he added. “Africa is great, I will settle in Uganda.”
“Father, there are even more Europeans in Uganda than here,” his friends told him.
“Now I understand why they were called “wazungu,” said the old man, “they surrounded us.”
[Here is a play on words: in Swahili, “to surround” is “zunguka”; “wazungu” - “surrounded”.]
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru