by Antonio Napoli

In Cameroon, there is a proverb that says, “A thing given by a friend is never to be despised.” It is a much more direct saying than the Western proverb “ Don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth “
The following story embodies the meaning of both.

When Kuume, king of an ancient African city, achieved a great victory over his enemies, he organized a lavish banquet. His allies stepped forward to offer him precious gifts as a sign of friendship and gratitude. Among them was the kingdom’s sorcerer, Addia, who presented an unusual offering: a heap of desert sand, wrapped in a goatskin cloth.

The king concealed his disappointment. Such a humble gift was hardly worthy of a sovereign. Yet, he accepted it without protest.

A few months later, a new enemy approached with his mighty war chariots, coming almost to the very gates of the royal palace. The king was in despair when the sorcerer asked him:
“Have you kept my gift?”

The king, who had forgotten all the other gifts—no matter how rich and magnificent—had not erased from his memory that wretched sack of sand, which had seemed almost an insult.

“Of course, I have kept it.”

“Then take it, stand atop the walls, and throw a handful of sand into the air. Then order your archers to stand ready.”

The thunderous roar of the enemy’s massive, enclosed chariots, drawn by armored horses, was already making the walls tremble. With no other options left, the king did as he was told. And then, as if it were raining from the sky, the sand spread across the hardened ground, mysteriously multiplying. The wheels of the enemy chariots sank, the horses reared in an attempt to move forward, and the soldiers, leaping from their chariots, found themselves sinking ever deeper into the shifting sands.

That was the moment the archers unleashed a hail of arrows, leaving countless dead upon the golden sea.

The king now understood the true value of that gift.

After that unexpected victory, he held another banquet. Once again, princes, allies, and dignitaries presented him with magnificent gifts. But the king eagerly awaited what the sorcerer would offer him this time.

Addia stepped forward and handed him a necklace woven from a simple jungle vine.

This time, the king’s disappointment was immense. It was not just an affront—it was an outright insult.

It was then that the king of a neighboring kingdom—an ambiguous, untrustworthy man—stepped forward. He had already given his gift, but now he exclaimed:

“What an outrageous discourtesy! O my king, I shall take off my diamond necklace and offer it to you instead! And I shall bring this wretched vine necklace to my people, so they may witness the ingratitude of your servants!”

The sorcerer barely smiled and said:

“Do as you please. And if you truly consider yourself a loyal ally of our beloved sovereign, prove it by wearing my necklace… the one that chokes out falsehood.”

The foreign king hesitated, then, forcing a smile, placed the necklace around his neck.

And at that moment, it tightened, strangling him.

King Kuume rose to his feet, astonished. Then Addia approached him and whispered these words:

“Sire, I shall give you another gift instead: a lesson. When you receive a gift, simply say thank you.”