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By Davis Ndyomugabe of Qachecks
Can the words we speak become our downfall? In Killed by Tongue, Davis Ndyomugabe of Qachecks tells a strange and humorous cautionary tale about gossip, truth and the power of words. A woman gathering firewood encounters something impossible: a laughing, talking skull. Instead of running away, she starts a conversation. Soon, however, the skull gives her a warning she finds almost impossible to obey: control your tongue before your tongue controls your fate.
“A word, once let out of the cage, cannot be whistled back.”
My mother used to tell me a story about a gossiping woman who was killed by her tongue.
Whenever she told it, I questioned whether such a story could be true.
However, as I grew older, I began to see the wisdom behind it. I heard strange stories from this country and beyond. I also witnessed bizarre and shocking events.
Eventually, I realised something.
My mother was a genius!
And this is how her story goes…
A woman went into the bush to gather firewood.
As she searched for dry sticks, she suddenly heard laughter.
She stopped.
There was no one around.
Then she looked down and saw something that made her stare in disbelief.
A skull was laughing at her.
Most people would have run away.
This woman did not.
She dropped her firewood and moved closer.
“What are you laughing at?” she asked.
Then, without hesitation, she added:
“And what killed you?”
The skull laughed again.
“Hehehe! I am laughing because I have finally found my sister—the one who inherited my traits among the living.”
The woman frowned.
“What have you said? I am not your sister! You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Leave me alone!”
But the skull continued laughing.
“My sweet little sister, you are more like me than you realise. I have been waiting to meet you so that we can laugh together.”
The woman stared at it.
“What do you mean?”
“Look at yourself,” the skull replied. “You have only just met me, yet you are already excited. I can even guess what you are thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“You are thinking about the story you will tell your gossiping friends when you return home.”
The woman’s eyes widened.
“Ehhh! How did you know?”
The skull laughed.
“You enjoy talking. You gossip about anything and everything, even things that do not concern you.”
The woman could hardly contain her excitement.
“You know me very well! It is almost as if you are there whenever I am cooking my stories.”
Then she smiled.
“Please, tell me more. You know I love a good story, especially one as strange as finding a laughing and talking skull!”
Already, she was thinking about her closest friend, Kachabarika.
She imagined the excitement.
She imagined the laughter.
Most of all, she imagined how she would add suspense, spice and exaggeration until her listeners rolled from side to side with tears in their eyes.
“That is when I know I have told a good story!” she declared.
Then another thought struck her.
“Ohhhh! If only you were my neighbour. We would form a Triple A-XYZ Gossip Club and spread the gospel of lies and spin!”
The skull laughed.
“Who am I to refuse an invitation from the chief priestess of gossip?”
The woman giggled.
“You ka-skull! You are so sweet! Nobody has ever appreciated my talent like you.”
She complained that people often called her a dirty old gossip who spread falsehoods and destroyed reputations.
“But they don’t understand!” she protested.
According to her, creating a good gossip story required talent.
It required imagination.
It required preparation.
Sometimes, she said, the best stories came to her during sleepless nights while her husband snored beside her like a satisfied king of frogs.
“Telling a fib takes courage!” she declared.
The skull laughed even harder.
“Hehehe! You truly are my sister. If only we had met when I was still alive! Together, we might have entered palaces, brought down royalty and broken empires.”
The woman was delighted.
“Let me even kiss you!”
As she bent down to pick up the skull, neither she nor her new friend noticed the African king cobra hiding in the thick grass nearby.
The cobra had been listening.
He could hardly believe what he was seeing.
“This woman has just met a skull in the bush,” he thought, “and she is already kissing it!”
At first, the cobra prepared to attack.
Then something strange happened.
His mouth became dry.
Fear seized him.
Soon, he became dizzy and blacked out.
When he regained consciousness, he saw the woman still holding the skull as tenderly as a baby.
For a moment, even the cobra was touched by the strange friendship.
But the woman had not forgotten her original question.
“My beloved friend,” she said, “you still haven’t told me what killed you.”
The skull became quiet.
“If I tell you, you may become frightened and run away.”
“I won’t,” she promised. “I will never abandon you.”
She even offered to take the skull home and keep it near her bed.
“Now tell me everything. Please!”
The skull hesitated.
Finally, it agreed.
“What killed me is a long story,” it said. “But I will tell you.”
The woman moved closer.
The skull began.
“On the day everything changed, I had gone into the bush to gather firewood. Suddenly, heavy rain began to fall.
“I became wet and cold. My teeth were clattering as I slowly made my way home.
“Then I saw someone sitting beside a fire.
“It was Death.”
The woman gasped.
“Death?”
“Yes. Death himself.”
The skull continued.
“I was frightened, but curiosity defeated fear. Instead of running away, I approached him.
“I thought about the story I would tell when I returned home. Imagine telling everyone that I had met Death himself!
“So I walked towards him and asked for some fire to warm myself.
“Death allowed me to sit beside him.
“Soon, we began talking.”
The woman listened closely.
“I asked Death why he kept taking human lives.
“He looked at me and warned that people do not always want to hear the truth.
“Then he told me something I would never forget.”
The skull paused.
The woman leaned closer.
“What?”
The skull answered:
“It is your tongue that will finally kill you.”
The woman listening to the story became silent.
However, the skull continued.
“I did not believe Death. In fact, I thought meeting him would make me famous.
“How could anyone harm a woman who had spoken to Death himself?
“Before I left, Death helped me gather enough firewood to last a very long time.
“Yet he warned me again.
“He said I might not survive another week.
“He told me that people would call me a witch and a liar. Worse still, he warned that some of my first accusers would be my closest gossiping friends.
“I still did not believe him.
“Before we parted, Death hugged me.
“Then he disappeared.
“When I reached home, I found an enormous pile of firewood neatly arranged beside the house.
“I do not remember how I reached my bed. I only remember waking the next morning to the sound of birds.
“My husband, his mother and his four sisters were standing around me.
“They looked worried.
“Then I remembered meeting Death.
“And I started laughing!”
The skull laughed as it remembered.
“I laughed until everyone became frightened.
“They thought I had gone mad.
“However, I told them there was nothing wrong with me. I simply had an extraordinary story to tell.
“Eventually, everyone became quiet.
“So I began.
“I told them about the bush.
“I told them about the storm.
“I told them about meeting Death.
“And I told them about his warning.
“But before I could finish, my husband dragged me out of bed.
“His mother encouraged him, while his sisters began beating me.
“Soon, neighbours arrived.
“Then I heard people shouting:
“Witch! Witch! Witch!”
The woman listening to the skull was now completely absorbed in the story.
“What happened next?”
“My gossiping friends arrived,” the skull replied.
The woman gasped.
“Your friends?”
“Yes. The same people with whom I had shared countless stories.
“They joined the crowd.
“Fortunately, the oldest woman in the village ordered everyone to stop beating me and allow me to explain myself.
“I was bleeding, but I was still alive.
“So I told the story again.
“I explained everything.
“I even told them how Death had helped me carry the firewood home.
“But before I could finish, three of my closest friends began shouting.
“They called me a witch.
“They demanded that I be killed.
“After all, they asked, who would dare cook using Death’s firewood?
“Then they reminded everyone that they had always warned me about my restless tongue.
“One day, they said, it would kill me.”
The skull became quiet.
“What happened?” the woman whispered.
“A stone struck me.
“I never saw who threw it.
“Then another came.
“And another.
“That was when I remembered Death’s warning.
“My tongue had finally killed me.
“The crowd did not take long to finish me.
“The last thing I remember hearing was the sound of my children crying beneath the roar of the crowd.”
The skull looked at the woman.
“My beloved sister, now you know what killed me.”
It paused.
Then it said:
“Tie your tongue.”
Nearby, the cobra had heard everything.
But before it could make a move, an eagle came racing from the sky.
The cobra saw it too late.
Within seconds, it had been lifted from the ground and carried away.
The woman jumped with excitement.
“Ehhh, my darling! Did you see that? That eagle has saved me! The cobra could have killed me!”
The skull remained calm.
“Forget about the snake. I have been watching it for some time.
“But you…”
The skull paused.
“I know what will kill you.”
The woman suddenly became serious.
“What will kill me?”
The skull answered:
“Just as I was killed by my mouth and tongue, you too will be killed by your tongue.”
The woman stared at it.
The skull continued.
“I laughed when I saw you because you cannot resist a good story. You will want to tell everyone what happened here.
“And meeting a talking skull is not the kind of story a gossip like you can keep to herself.”
The woman became angry.
“Can’t you tell me something sweet? At least tell me how I can tell my friends about you without sounding like a witch!”
The skull laughed.
“You see? You are already planning how to tell them.”
Then it gave the warning again:
“You shall be killed by your tongue!”
The woman began to cry.
Soon, however, sadness turned into anger.
She grabbed the skull and threw it against a tree.
It shattered into several pieces.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then every broken piece began laughing.
“Hehehe! Hehehe! Hehehe!”
The pieces shouted together:
“You don’t want to know the truth!
“You will be killed by your tongue!
“You will be killed by your tongue!
“Don’t even carry that firewood home!
“Your tongue is already itching to tell everyone about the skull, the cobra and the eagle!
“Your tongue will kill youuuuuuu!”
Suddenly, a mighty wind swept across the hill.
Plants bent.
Weak ones were uprooted.
Even the woman fell to the ground.
Eventually, the wind disappeared.
Silence returned.
The woman stood up, furious.
She abandoned the firewood and hurried home.
When she arrived, her children were hungry and crying.
Her husband was angry because she had returned without firewood.
Soon, the two were arguing.
Then he slapped her.
The woman exploded.
“If you slap me again, my talking skull friend will kill you!”
The moment those words left her mouth, a whirlwind appeared.
Dust filled the air.
Plants shook.
Then everything became calm.
At the gate sat a skull.
“I told you!” it shouted.
The husband froze.
The skull continued:
“Didn’t I tell you that your tongue would kill you?
“Look at what it has already done!
“Instead of gathering firewood, your tongue led you to me. Now it has followed you home.
“Your tongue is dangerous.
“If you allow it to lead you, it will lead you into the pit of death.
“The tongue has divided families.
“It has destroyed friendships.
“It has separated relatives, neighbours and lovers.
“It has divided tribes, clans, races and nations.
“It has even helped start wars.
“Beware of the tongue!”
The husband stared at the skull in terror.
A talking skull was sitting in his compound.
His wife had threatened to call it.
And now it was there.
“Is my wife a sorceress?” he cried. “Am I living with a witch?”
The woman suddenly felt powerful.
“I have warned you about beating me!” she shouted.
Then she challenged him to touch her again.
By now, their neighbours had started gathering.
People whispered among themselves.
Some were frightened.
Others were simply curious.
Then Kachabarika arrived.
She was the woman’s closest friend and favourite gossiping companion.
Instead of calming the situation, Kachabarika added her own dramatic advice.
The crowd burst into laughter.
The husband became even more embarrassed.
More neighbours arrived.
Then the woman raised her hand.
“Everybody, listen!”
The crowd slowly became quiet.
“I have the freshest and strangest story you have ever heard.”
Immediately, everyone wanted to know more.
The woman looked around.
“But before I tell you, promise me that you will not kill me after hearing it.
“I am only going to tell you what I saw.
“Okay?”
The crowd became impatient.
“Just tell us!”
“Stop wasting time!”
So the woman began.
“Today, I went to Rwendareiguru to gather firewood.
“As I was picking dry sticks…”
She paused.
Everyone leaned closer.
Then she said:
“I saw a talking skull.”
And once she began, she could not stop.
She told them everything.
The skull.
The cobra.
The eagle.
The warning.
The broken pieces.
The wind.
Everything.
When she finished, the crowd went silent.
Then someone shouted:
“A witch!”
Another voice followed.
“A sorceress!”
Then another:
“An evil woman!”
Within moments, the crowd turned against her.
Even Kachabarika slapped her.
Another gossiping companion struck her.
Soon, stones began flying.
People kicked and beat her.
Before she could escape—
She breathed her last.
Silence fell.
Then came laughter.
A strange, shrill laugh.
It grew louder.
And louder.
And louder…
Suddenly, a skull appeared on top of the woman’s body.
Everyone froze.
The skull began speaking.
Word by word, it repeated the same story the woman had just told.
The crowd listened in horror.
Finally, the skull repeated the warning the woman had refused to believe:
“I told you that you would be killed by your tongue…”
No one laughed anymore.
Guilt settled over the crowd.
They had killed an innocent woman because they thought her story was impossible.
Yet the talking skull was now before their own eyes.
One by one, they remembered something else.
They had condemned her for gossiping.
But they gossiped too.
They had condemned her restless tongue.
Yet many times,
they too had failed to still their tongues.
— Davis Ndyomugabe of Qachecks
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