One day, Shindo was out in the yard, cutting vegetables for a stew. As she carried the pot from the bright sunlight into the hut, she tripped over Kitete. She fell, and the clay pot shattered. Vegetables and water streamed everywhere.
“Haven’t I told you to stay out of my way? But what can I expect? You’re not a real child at all. You’re nothing but a calabash!” The very next moment, she gave a scream. Kitete was no longer there, and in his place was a gourd.
“What have I done?” cried Shindo, as the children crowded into the hut. “I didn’t mean what I said! You’re not a calabash, you’re my own darling son. Oh, children, please do something!” The children looked at each other. Then over each other they climbed, scampering up to the rooftop. When the last child had been helped up by Shindo, they called out one last time,
“Ki-te-te, come help us!
We’ll work for our mother.
Come help us, Ki-te-te,
Our favorite brother!”
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then slowly, the gourd began to change. It sprouted a head, then arms, then legs. At last, it was not a gourd at all. It was—Kitete!
Shindo learned her lesson. Ever after, she was very careful what she called her children. And so they gave her comfort and happiness, all the rest of her days.