The Hunchback's Tale

In the bustling city of Baghdad, during the reign of the great Caliph Harun al-Rashid, there lived a hunchbacked man whose presence brought joy to everyone who encountered him. Despite his physical deformity, or perhaps because of the way he had learned to find humor in life’s challenges, this remarkable man had become the most beloved entertainer in all the city.

His name was Abu Hassan, though everyone simply called him “the Hunchback,” and he possessed a gift for storytelling, singing, and comedy that could make even the most melancholy soul burst into laughter. His jokes were clever without being cruel, his songs were beautiful without being pretentious, and his stories were engaging without being lengthy. Children would clap their hands when they saw him coming down the street, merchants would pause in their bargaining to listen to his tales, and even the city guards would smile and wave when he passed by on his rounds.

The Hunchback made his living by performing at weddings, festivals, and private gatherings, but his true joy came from the spontaneous performances he would give in the marketplace or at street corners, simply for the pleasure of seeing people’s faces light up with laughter. He was known for his kindness as well as his humor—often using his earnings to help families in need, and never refusing to perform for those who could not afford to pay him.

On this particular evening, as the muezzin’s call echoed across the city and the sunset painted the sky in shades of gold and rose, the Hunchback was making his way home after a successful day of performances. His pouch jingled with the coins he had earned, and his heart was light with the memory of the laughter and applause he had inspired.

As he passed through the cloth merchants’ quarter, he encountered a tailor named Mustafa and his wife Khadija, who were just closing their shop for the day. The couple had seen the Hunchback perform many times and had always admired his cheerful spirit and entertaining skills.

“Peace be upon you, Abu Hassan!” called Mustafa warmly. “We have just finished preparing our evening meal, and we would be honored if you would join us. My wife has made her famous lamb stew, and we could use some of your wonderful stories to season the food with laughter.”

The Hunchback’s face lit up with genuine pleasure at this invitation. Though he was welcomed in many homes throughout the city, he never tired of the simple joy of sharing a meal with kind people. “The pleasure would be mine, my friends,” he replied with a gracious bow. “Good food is made even better by good company, and I have many new stories that are eager to find appreciative ears.”

Khadija bustled about their modest home, setting out the best dishes and utensils they owned, while Mustafa and the Hunchback settled themselves on cushions around the low table. The aroma of the lamb stew filled the air—fragrant with cardamom, cinnamon, and other exotic spices that made their mouths water in anticipation.

As they began to eat, the Hunchback entertained his hosts with a series of amusing anecdotes about the characters he had encountered during his performances that day. He told of the pompous merchant who had demanded that all his jokes be about his competitors, the nervous bride who had worried that laughter at her wedding would be inappropriate, and the group of children who had tried to pay him with buttons and pretty stones because they had no coins.

His imitations of these various characters were so accurate and hilarious that Mustafa and Khadija found themselves laughing until tears ran down their cheeks. The Hunchback had a remarkable ability to capture not just people’s voices and mannerisms, but also the essence of their personalities, making his audience feel as if they had been present for the original encounters.

“Truly, Abu Hassan,” gasped Khadija between fits of laughter, “Allah has blessed you with a gift that brings joy to everyone around you. How fortunate we are to have such entertainment with our dinner!”

The Hunchback beamed with pleasure at this compliment, for he took genuine pride in his ability to brighten people’s lives. “My dear friends,” he replied, “the gift is yours as much as mine. A performer without an audience is merely a man talking to himself, but an audience like yourselves makes even simple stories seem like magic.”

As the evening progressed and the lamb stew disappeared from their bowls, the conversation grew more animated. The Hunchback launched into one of his most popular routines—an elaborate tale about a conversation between a camel and a donkey who were arguing about which of them was more essential to human civilization.

He was in the middle of describing the camel’s haughty declarations about the nobility of carrying merchant caravans across the desert when he took a particularly large bite of meat. In his enthusiasm for the story, he began speaking again before he had finished chewing properly, and suddenly he began to cough violently.

Mustafa and Khadija watched with growing alarm as their guest’s face turned red, then purple, as he struggled to dislodge whatever was blocking his throat. They leaped up and tried to help—patting his back, offering him water, attempting various remedies they had heard might help a choking person.

But despite their efforts, the Hunchback’s struggles grew weaker and weaker until finally he slumped forward onto the table, completely still and silent. His face had turned a terrible blue color, and no amount of calling his name or shaking his shoulders could rouse him.

“By Allah,” whispered Mustafa in horror, “I think he is dead! The poor man has choked to death at our table!” The realization of what had happened struck them both like a physical blow, and they stared at their beloved friend’s motionless form in shocked disbelief.

Khadija began to weep, covering her face with her hands. “This is a disaster beyond imagining! Abu Hassan was loved by everyone in the city. When people learn that he died in our home, they will say we are cursed, or worse—they may even suspect that we poisoned him!”

Mustafa’s practical mind began to work through the implications of their situation. “You are right, wife. Even though we are completely innocent of any wrongdoing, people will always wonder about the circumstances of his death. Our business will be ruined, our reputation destroyed. We must think of some way to handle this situation that will not bring suspicion upon us.”

As they sat in stunned silence, each trying to think of a solution to their terrible predicament, Mustafa suddenly snapped his fingers. “I have an idea! You know our neighbor, the Jewish doctor who lives three houses down? He is always boasting about his medical knowledge and his ability to cure any ailment. Perhaps if we take Abu Hassan to him, claiming that our friend has suddenly fallen ill, the doctor will be blamed if he fails to save him.”

Khadija looked at her husband with a mixture of admiration and horror. “But that would be dishonest! We would be deceiving an innocent man!”

“Would it be more honest to let our own family suffer for something that was clearly an accident?” Mustafa replied. “Besides, we are not really lying—we are simply not mentioning that Abu Hassan is already beyond help. The doctor will discover that for himself soon enough.”

After much debate and soul-searching, the couple decided that they had no choice but to attempt this deception. They carefully lifted the Hunchback’s body and carried him through the dark streets to the home of Dr. Ibrahim, the Jewish physician.

Mustafa knocked urgently on the door, and when the doctor appeared, still dressed in his nightclothes, the tailor spoke in a voice filled with apparent desperation. “Doctor Ibrahim! Thank Allah you are home! Our dear friend Abu Hassan has suddenly been taken terribly ill during dinner at our house. He collapsed without warning and will not respond to our attempts to revive him. Please, you must help him!”

Dr. Ibrahim, who was indeed a skilled and compassionate physician, immediately invited them to bring the patient inside. “Quickly, bring him to my examination room,” he instructed, lighting additional lamps to better see the patient’s condition.

But as they carried the Hunchback through the narrow hallway leading to the doctor’s study, Mustafa deliberately stumbled in the darkness, causing the body to fall heavily down a steep flight of stairs that led to the lower level of the house.

“Oh no!” Mustafa cried out in feigned horror. “He has fallen down your stairs! I fear this may have made his condition even worse!”

Dr. Ibrahim rushed down the stairs to examine his patient, but when he knelt beside the motionless form and checked for signs of life, he found none. The man was clearly dead, and from the position of his body and the severity of his apparent injuries, it appeared that the fall down the stairs had been the cause of death.

“This is terrible!” the doctor moaned, wringing his hands in despair. “This poor man has died from the injuries he sustained falling down my stairs! Even though it was an accident, when people learn that he died in my house, they will say that my medical incompetence was responsible for his death!”

As a member of the Jewish community in a predominantly Muslim city, Dr. Ibrahim was especially conscious of how any scandal might reflect not just on himself but on his entire people. He knew that some residents were always looking for reasons to stir up religious tensions, and the death of a beloved entertainer in a Jewish doctor’s house could provide exactly the kind of incident they might exploit.

“I must find a way to remove this body from my house,” the doctor decided, “and place it somewhere that will not implicate me in his death.” After much thought, he conceived a plan that seemed to offer a solution to his dilemma.

Late that night, Dr. Ibrahim carried the Hunchback’s body to the shop of Hassan the butcher, a Muslim man who lived several streets away. The doctor knew that Hassan often worked late into the night, preparing meat for the next day’s sales, and he hoped to place the body in the shop in such a way that it would appear the man had died there.

Using a spare key that Hassan had once given him when the butcher had asked the doctor to treat an injury (doctors and butchers sometimes had professional relationships, as both dealt with anatomy), Dr. Ibrahim entered the shop and carefully positioned the Hunchback’s body near the butcher’s block.

Unfortunately for the doctor’s plan, Hassan the butcher arrived at his shop earlier than usual the next morning and immediately discovered the body. The sight of a dead man in his place of business filled him with terror and confusion.

“What is this?” Hassan exclaimed, staring at the motionless figure. “How did this man get into my shop? And why is he dead?” As he examined the body more closely, Hassan recognized the deceased as the famous entertainer who was known and loved throughout the city.

Hassan’s mind raced as he tried to understand how this tragedy could have occurred. The doors to his shop had been locked, yet somehow this man had gotten inside and died. The only explanation that made sense to the frightened butcher was that Abu Hassan must have been a thief who had broken into the shop to steal meat, and had somehow been killed in the process.

“If people find his body here,” Hassan reasoned, “they will certainly blame me for his death. They will say that I killed him to protect my property, or worse, that I murdered him deliberately. My life and livelihood will be ruined!”

Like the others before him, Hassan concluded that he needed to move the body to a location that would not implicate him in the death. After much consideration, he decided to take the corpse to the house of Yusuf the Reeve, a Christian tax collector who was widely disliked by the people of the city.

Hassan’s reasoning was that if the body were found at the tax collector’s house, people would be more likely to believe that Yusuf had killed the entertainer, perhaps during some dispute over taxes or money. The Christian official was unpopular enough that few would question such an accusation.

Under cover of darkness, Hassan carried the body through the winding streets to Yusuf’s house and managed to prop it up against the front door in such a way that it would appear the man had died while attempting to enter the dwelling.

When Yusuf the Reeve returned home from a late evening of collecting taxes, he found what appeared to be a drunken man slumped against his door. Assuming the person was simply intoxicated and blocking his entrance, Yusuf gave the figure a firm push to move him aside.

To his horror, the “drunk” toppled over and lay completely motionless on the ground. When Yusuf knelt to examine him more closely, he realized that the man was not drunk but dead, and he recognized him as the beloved entertainer Abu Hassan.

“This is a catastrophe!” Yusuf muttered, looking around nervously to see if anyone had witnessed this scene. “If my neighbors find a dead body outside my house, especially the body of someone as popular as Abu Hassan, they will immediately assume that I killed him! My position, my reputation, everything will be destroyed!”

As a Christian tax collector in a Muslim city, Yusuf was already viewed with suspicion by many residents. He knew that some people resented both his religion and his profession, and would be quick to believe the worst about him. The discovery of a murdered entertainer at his doorstep would provide his enemies with exactly the ammunition they needed to destroy him.

Desperate to avoid this fate, Yusuf decided that he must move the body to yet another location. After much thought, he chose to take it to the shop of Abdul Rahman the barber, reasoning that since barbers sometimes performed minor medical procedures, it would be plausible that someone might have brought an injured person there for treatment.

Yusuf carried the body through the dark streets and positioned it inside the barber’s shop, arranging it so that it would appear the man had collapsed while seeking medical attention. Then he hurried home, hoping that his involvement in this tragic situation was finally at an end.

When Abdul Rahman the barber arrived at his shop the next morning, he was shocked to discover the body of the famous entertainer lying on his floor. Like all the others before him, his first thought was about how this death would affect his own life and reputation.

“People will say that Abu Hassan died because of my incompetent medical treatment,” the barber lamented. “Even though I never agreed to treat him and have no idea how he came to be in my shop, I will be blamed for his death!”

Following the pattern established by his unwitting predecessors, Abdul Rahman decided that he too must move the body to avoid suspicion. But by this time, it was broad daylight, and he could not simply carry a corpse through the streets without being seen.

Instead, the barber decided to dress the body in a hooded cloak and position it so that it appeared to be a living person sitting quietly in a corner of his shop. When customers arrived, he would explain that the figure was a patient waiting for treatment, and he hoped to maintain this deception until nightfall, when he could safely move the body elsewhere.

But this plan was doomed to failure, for among Abdul Rahman’s regular customers was a young man who recognized the Hunchback despite the concealing hood. When the customer realized that the supposedly living patient was actually a corpse, he began screaming and ran from the shop to alert the authorities.

Within minutes, the city guards arrived at the barber shop and discovered the body of Abu Hassan. Under intense questioning, Abdul Rahman confessed that he had found the corpse in his shop that morning but had no idea how it had gotten there or what had caused the death.

The guards, faced with the mysterious death of one of the city’s most beloved figures, arrested Abdul Rahman and brought him before the qadi (judge) for immediate trial. The barber, terrified and confused, could offer no satisfactory explanation for how the entertainer had died in his establishment.

“This man stands accused of murdering Abu Hassan the entertainer,” the qadi announced to the assembled crowd that had gathered to witness the proceedings. “The evidence suggests that the victim died in the defendant’s shop, and the defendant has offered no credible explanation for these circumstances.”

The crowd, which included many people who had loved the Hunchback’s performances, began calling for justice. Some shouted for Abdul Rahman to be executed immediately, while others demanded that he be tortured until he confessed to the full details of his crime.

Just as the qadi was preparing to pronounce a sentence of death upon the terrified barber, a commotion arose at the back of the courtroom. Yusuf the Reeve was pushing his way through the crowd, his face pale with guilt and determination.

“Stop!” Yusuf called out in a loud voice. “This man is innocent! I am the one responsible for Abu Hassan’s death!”

The crowd fell silent in shock as the tax collector made his way to the front of the courtroom. “Your Honor,” Yusuf continued, “I found Abu Hassan collapsed outside my house last night. In my confusion and fear, I moved his body to the barber’s shop, hoping to avoid suspicion. But I cannot allow an innocent man to die for something I did.”

The qadi stared at Yusuf in amazement. “Are you confessing to the murder of Abu Hassan?”

“I am confessing to causing his death,” Yusuf replied carefully. “Though I did not intend to kill him, my actions resulted in his demise, and I must take responsibility for that.”

But before the qadi could respond to this unexpected development, another voice called out from the crowd. Hassan the butcher was making his way forward, his face wracked with guilt.

“No, Your Honor!” Hassan protested. “The Christian speaks falsely! I am the one who moved Abu Hassan’s body to Yusuf’s house. The man died in my shop, and I was too cowardly to report it immediately!”

The courtroom erupted in confused murmuring as the crowd tried to understand what was happening. How could multiple people be responsible for the same death?

Before the qadi could restore order, a third voice joined the confession. Dr. Ibrahim the physician had arrived at the courthouse and was pushing through the crowd with desperate urgency.

“Your Honor!” the doctor called out. “These men are protecting each other unnecessarily! Abu Hassan died in my house when he fell down my stairs. I was the one who moved his body to the butcher’s shop because I feared being blamed for his death!”

The qadi looked from one confessor to another in complete bewilderment. “This is highly irregular,” he muttered. “Three men claim responsibility for the same death, yet their stories contradict each other. How can this be?”

At this point, the crowd parted once more to admit Mustafa the tailor and his wife Khadija, both of whom were weeping and appeared to be in great distress. They approached the bench and prostrated themselves before the qadi.

“Your Honor,” Mustafa said in a broken voice, “we can remain silent no longer. Abu Hassan was our guest for dinner last night when he choked on a piece of meat and died at our table. We were the ones who took his body to the doctor’s house, claiming he was still alive but ill. All of these good men are innocent—we are the ones truly responsible for this tragedy.”

The qadi sat back in his chair, completely overwhelmed by this unprecedented situation. In all his years of dispensing justice, he had never encountered a case where multiple defendants were competing to confess to the same crime.

“Let me understand this correctly,” the qadi said slowly. “The entertainer Abu Hassan choked to death during dinner at your house, whereupon you took his body to Dr. Ibrahim, claiming he was ill. The doctor, believing the man had died from falling down his stairs, moved the body to Hassan’s butcher shop. The butcher, assuming the man had died while burglarizing his establishment, moved the body to Yusuf’s house. And Yusuf, thinking he had accidentally killed the man by pushing him, moved the body to Abdul Rahman’s barber shop, where it was finally discovered.”

“That appears to be correct, Your Honor,” Mustafa replied miserably.

The qadi pondered this extraordinary chain of events for several minutes while the courtroom waited in tense silence. Finally, he spoke: “This case is too unusual and complex for my judgment alone. It must be brought before the Caliph himself for a final decision.”

When the entire group was brought before Harun al-Rashid and the full story was related to him, the great Caliph listened with expressions of amazement, amusement, and compassion crossing his features in turn.

“This is indeed a remarkable tale,” Harun al-Rashid said when the recitation was complete. “We have here a man who died of natural causes—choking on food—yet his death has created a web of deception involving multiple innocent people, each trying to protect themselves from blame they did not deserve.”

The Caliph paused, considering the implications of what he had heard. “The original death was clearly accidental, and each subsequent action, while misguided, was motivated by understandable fear rather than malicious intent. However, the attempts to deceive and shift blame, while human and comprehensible, cannot be entirely overlooked.”

“Therefore,” Harun al-Rashid continued, “my judgment is this: All parties involved will contribute to a fund for the support of Abu Hassan’s family, as he was the sole provider for several relatives. Additionally, each person involved in moving the body will perform community service for one month, helping to care for the poor and sick of the city.”

“Most importantly,” the Caliph concluded, “this entire incident will serve as a reminder that honesty, even when it seems dangerous, is always preferable to deception. Had Mustafa and Khadija immediately reported the accidental death, much trouble and heartache could have been avoided.”

The crowd, which had expected executions and harsh punishments, was amazed by the wisdom and mercy of the Caliph’s judgment. The various defendants were so relieved to escape with their lives that they embraced each other and vowed to become lifelong friends.

In the months that followed, an unexpected friendship indeed developed among all the people involved in the incident. They began meeting regularly to share meals and stories, and they often spoke of Abu Hassan’s memory with fondness and laughter.

The tale of the Hunchback’s death became one of the most famous stories told in Baghdad, serving as both entertainment and moral instruction. People would recount it as an example of how fear and deception could complicate even the simplest situations, and how honesty and trust in justice were always the best policies.

And though Abu Hassan was greatly missed throughout the city, his legacy lived on not only in the memories of his performances, but also in the lesson his death had taught about the importance of community, honesty, and the understanding that sometimes the truth, however complicated, is far more beneficial than the most clever deception.