IN THE MAGAZINE

“THE HUNTER AND HIS DOGS”

By Saah Millimono

Published December, 2009
Saah Millimono is the chief fiction writer at the Daily Observer, which is Liberia’s most popular newspaper. We were introduced to Saah by our West African fixer, Myles Estey, a Canadian journalist who moved to the war-torn hellhole because there’s good surf there. He liked Monrovia, Liberia’s capital, so much that he ended up staying to train local journalists. Saah became one of his students. They wrote stories like this one together on a computer at the Observer offices, passing ideas to each other on scraps of paper because Saah is deaf. Each week, the Observer publishes one of Saah’s stories. They primarily deal with sorcery, witchcraft, deception, and the hardship of life. And although the literacy rate of Liberia is currently at 35 percent, he has a loyal readership that regularly sends him fan letters.

Myles told us: “Saah is amazingly positive and good-hearted, but frustrated about the situation in Liberia. There’s so little opportunity for people. He also suffers from typical writer shit. He can’t say what he wants to and no one wants to provide him with means for his work.”


Once upon a time there lived a certain hunter named Gotokai. He had four dogs: Tin, Kin, Roll, and Rally. The dogs were very loyal to the hunter and were known for their bravery, daring, and skill in hunting. But they had a weakness: They couldn’t be fed pepper.

Although this was known to everyone in the village, Gotokai never told anyone why his dogs wouldn’t eat pepper. He kept that a secret.

In the village of Bampley, where Gotokai lived together with his dogs, there was a jealous old woman who lived alone in a rickety zinc hut. Nobody ever visited her because they were afraid she was a witch.

And they might have been right. Because at midnight, Kintie, for that was the old woman’s name, sat together with wicked spirits and plotted to murder people she hated.

One of those people she hated very much in the village was Gotokai. She thought he was too honest, friendly, and generous in a way that made everyone else in the village seem like a goat, with Gotokai being the only sheep. So whenever Gotokai came from hunting, sharing his meat with the villagers, Kintie would grow livid with rage and wish he would just drop dead on the spot.

Fortunately for Gotokai, his dogs were always around. And Kinte seemed strangely afraid of the dogs. That was because she thought they had some supernatural power that made Gotokai immune to witchcraft.

Gotokai, for his part, hadn’t an inkling of what Kinte was plotting. He was, of course, a very friendly man who trusted everyone and was always doing his best for the good of all. Indeed, it was known far and wide that Gotokai would even give his life as a ransom in exchange for the villagers.

One evening, as Kinte was returning from the bush carrying a bundle of firewood, she and Gotokai met each other on a footpath. Behind Gotokai walked his dogs, loyally following their master.

Kinte recoiled in horror. “Get your dogs out of my sight, Gotokai!” she shouted, with great trembling and fear.

Gotokai was surprised by the old woman’s reaction and didn’t know what to make of it. However, he commanded his dogs to go away from him at a distance so they wouldn’t frighten the old woman. Immediately the dogs obeyed. They went away from Gotokai at about a stone’s throw and lay flat on their bellies, never taking their eyes off their master.

Kinte sighed with great relief.

“What is it about the dogs that frighten you so, old lady Kinte?” Gotokai questioned.

“I just don’t like dogs,” Kinte told him.

“Well, my dogs wouldn’t harm any soul,” Gotokai said, “except the animals they are fond of hunting. I have taught them that man is their best friend.”

“Is that so?” Kinte asked in surprise.

“Yes, that is so,” said Gotokai.

“Well, I’ve always been very much afraid of your dogs,” Kinte said.

“Why?” Gotokai inquired.

“I think they make you seem a very dangerous man.”

Gotokai laughed, “I’m sorry, old lady Kinte.”

“Well, why don’t you feed your dogs pepper?”

Gotokai smiled but said nothing.

Aha, he wouldn’t answer because that would make him vulnerable, Kinte thought.

Gotokai said, “I must leave you now, old lady Kinte. I have got to set some traps in the forest.”

“Don’t leave yet,” Kinte said. “You haven’t answered my question at all. Now tell me why your dogs shouldn’t eat pepper.”

“I’ll tell you another time,” said Gotokai, smiling broadly. And then, without another word, he turned and walked toward his dogs, who instantly sprang to their feet and followed their master into the forest.

Kinte was very dismayed and called down evil upon Gotokai.

From then onward, Kinte sought to discover Gotokai’s secret. But whenever she met Gotokai and asked him over and over why his dogs didn’t eat pepper, Gotokai would politely dismiss the question and walk away with a smile.

One day, when Gotokai was leaving the village to visit a cousin of his, he took his dogs to Kinte.

“Old lady Kinte,” Gotokai said, “I would like you to please watch over my dogs and make sure they don’t eat any pepper.”

Kinte was surprised but didn’t show it. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I’m leaving the village to visit a cousin of mine,” Gotokai told her. “He lives hundreds of miles away, and I wouldn’t like to tire the dogs on such a long journey.”

“But I am afraid of the dogs,” Kinte said.

“They wouldn’t do you any harm,” Gotokai assured her. And then, gesturing at Kinte to wait a moment, he turned and walked toward the dogs, who were waiting for him under a mango tree a few distances from Kinte’s hut.

As Gotokai reached the dogs, he said, “Tin, Kin, Roll, and Rally?”

“Yes, master,” the dogs answered in unison.

“I am going to visit a cousin of mine,” Gotokai said, as he sat on the grass opposite the dogs. “However,” he went on, “I wouldn’t like to take any one of you on the journey. It is miles away.”

“No problem, master,” the dogs echoed in one voice.

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