Uncle Bouchetta
Once upon a time, back when basil and iris were nestled in the bosom of the Prophet Muhammad—peace be upon him—there lived a man named Uncle Bouchetta the woodcutter. He lived in a humble hut with his wife and two daughters. Content with his life, he thanked God for his health and livelihood, chopping wood from the forest and selling it to earn his daily bread.
One day, when he couldn’t find the usual firewood, he ventured deeper into the forest and began chopping with his axe to gather whatever he could. Suddenly, a huge and tall jinn appeared before him. But Uncle Bouchetta didn’t flinch. Instead, he addressed the jinn, saying, “O jinn, you startled and woke me from my sleep!”
The jinn replied in surprise, “You sleep in broad daylight?”
Then he added, “I sleep for a year and wake for a year, so leave me be.”
Uncle Bouchetta said, “I am a woodcutter. My children await the sustenance I bring. I found my livelihood here.”
So the jinn gave him a tajine pot and said, “Whenever you lift its lid, you will find whatever your heart desires.”
Uncle Bouchetta thanked him and returned joyfully to his wife, instructing her to keep the secret.
Days passed, and the neighbors noticed signs of newfound fortune, so they grew envious and followed the matter until they learned the secret from his daughters. They snuck into his home, stole the magical tajine, and replaced it with a lookalike. That evening, when the woodcutter opened the pot to eat, he found it empty.
The next day, he returned to the forest and began chopping wood again, waking the jinn once more.
The jinn grew angry and said, “Did I not give you something to spare you from returning here? Why have you come and woken me again?”
The woodcutter replied, “The tajine no longer produces anything. I came seeking provision for my children.”
The jinn responded, “The pot was stolen by your neighbors because you did not keep the secret. Take this lamp—whenever you light its wick, gold and silver will pour from it. Along with it are three rods; place one behind each door. Inside each rod lives a jinn servant who will guard the lamp. But warn your household to keep this a secret, and your status shall rise, God willing.”
The woodcutter thanked the jinn and returned home overjoyed. He lived in peace and comfort, while the neighbors’ envy grew until they attempted to steal the lamp. But the rods sprang to life and beat them until one fell unconscious, regretting what he had done.
Time passed, and the woodcutter praised God. One day, he went to the forest and called upon the jinn. When the jinn appeared, he said, “I came to thank you and to ask that you accept my eldest daughter, Ghnou, as your wife, in gratitude for your kindness.”
The jinn laughed and said, “I am the king of the jinn, and I have thousands of wives and concubines. But I will not reject your gift—I shall wed her to my son, Ghnoush. I admire your honesty and dedication.”
The woodcutter told his wife to bathe their daughter, dress her, dye her hands with henna, adorn her with jewelry, and place her alone in a room. No one was to see her or know about the wedding. Ghnou was delighted, and preparations were made. After three days, the prince of the jinn arrived with his servants and took her without anyone seeing them. When she woke up, she found herself in a grand palace unlike anything she had ever imagined. Her husband, Ghnoush, would come at night and leave by morning, never letting her see him.
She endured this for nine months, then began longing to see her family. She asked her husband to visit them. He closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was in her family’s home. She told them everything, and they advised her to light a candle and look at him while he slept. She returned and did as they had said. When she saw him, she beheld a being of astounding beauty. But a drop of wax fell on his body, and he awoke in anger.
“You have doomed me to remain a bird for the rest of my life!” he cried. “I was under a spell—bird by day, man by night. Only three months remained until I would be cured!”
He flew away into the sky, singing in sorrow. Ghnou left the palace, weeping and lamenting her fate. She returned to her town, only to be mocked by the townspeople. She saw craftsmen making gifts that had been prepared for her wedding.
She wandered away from the city, lost and aimless, until she reached a forest and leaned against a tree. Above her was a nest with two doves. One said, “All the trees are green except this one—its leaves are yellow and wilted.”
The other replied, “Because Prince Ghnoush lives in it, and he will never return to his former self unless he drinks our blood.”
When they fell asleep, Ghnou killed them and gave their blood to Ghnoush. The sky erupted with thunder and lightning, and she fainted from fear.
When she awoke, she found herself in her palace, with Ghnoush beside her—restored and more beautiful than ever. They lived happily together, had sons and daughters, and their tale spread among the people, bringing joy back to the hearts of the kindhearted.