Dodo ti pitite, The Man-Eating Crab Lullaby

Podcast Script: “Dodo ti pitite, The Man-Eating Crab Lullaby” by Kathryn Ellis

            Does a lullaby have more meaning in use than to just help a small child to go to sleep? Is it embedded into your culture, your being, your history, and the land around you? Is it a comforting memory of your life or is it a ghost of what you have lost and will never get back? Even the most simplest things can have profound meaning, you just have to look for it.

            Hi, I’m Kathryn Ellis, and welcome to today’s podcast where we’ll explore a famous Haitian lullaby called Dodo ti pitite or “The Man-Eating Crab Lullaby.”  But this isn’t just any lullaby. This song carries layers of history, culture, and meaning far beyond a simple tune to put children to sleep. In fact, it’s tied to Haitian folklore, survival, and even resistance against oppression. Let’s dive in.

Lullabies are often seen as soothing songs to calm children, but sometimes, they’re more than that. Take Dodo ti pitite, a song that’s been passed down through generations in Haiti. Its first documented appearance was in 1928, in a book called Ainsi parla l’oncle by Jean Price-Mars, where he uses it to highlight Haiti’s rich oral traditions and African roots. The song’s presence in the book serves as a counter to the Eurocentric narratives of Haiti’s history, showcasing the power and importance of Haitian folklore. He wants his fellow Haitian writers to take pride in their own culture and country, instead of writing more stories about places in Europe. The lyrics of the lullaby are simple, but when you listen closely, they offer a glimpse into the culture and environment of Haiti (Price-Mars, p. 213-224).

Now I will read the lullaby. Please forgive me if I mispronounce anything:

Dodo ti pitite dodo. Ti pitite si li pas dodo crab va mangé li. Si li pas dodo, crab va manger li. Mamman, li allé la rivière. Papa, li allè chaché s’lo. Si li pas dodo, crab va mangé li. Crab l’an calalou. (Translation: Sleep little one, sleep little one. If he doesn’t sleep, crab will eat him. If he doesn’t sleep, crab is going to eat him. Mama, she went to the river. Papa, he went to look for it. If he doesn’t sleep, crab is going to eat him. Crab is in the Calalou or eggplant stew.) (Price-Mars, p.224)

            At first glance, it sounds like a simple threat to encourage a child to sleep, but when you truly listen, you hear more than just words. As Roland Barthes puts it, to “hear” is to only hear the words at face value, no more, no less. To “listen,” now that’s where you get the full message of what is being said, because you are paying attention and seeking it out (Barthes, p. 245). The lullaby reveals a lot about Haitian life, about the connection to the environment, the family structure, and even the persistence of African oral traditions in the New World.

The song also tells us about the roles of parents: the father hunts crabs, possibly indicating a regular task, and the mother fetches the water, likely for cooking. This gives us insight into the daily life in Haiti, where the environment is intertwined with the family survival. The presence of the crab, a possible threat to the child, suggests a coastal environment, with both the river and the crabs nearby.

Moreover, the song could be a metaphor for slavery in Haiti. During the colonial period, slaves were forbidden to gather together, especially at night. The crab could represent the slave master, and the lullaby could be a coded warning to avoid getting caught, much like how slaves use songs as code messages to resist oppression.

You might be familiar with a similar song from Western culture: This Little Piggy. When I was young, I had no idea that when it said, “This little piggy went to the market” meant to it went slaughter. I just thought it meant the pig was going to the grocery store. Similarly, Dodo ti pitite takes on a much darker meaning when you understand its historical context. Lullabies, when examined closely, are often more complex and disturbing than we initially think.

For many, Dodo ti pitite evokes deep emotional responses. For Jean Price-Mars, it was a way to reclaim and celebrate Haitian culture. For Marie-Hélène Laforest, a writer and editor, it’s tied to memories of her grandmother, who sung the song to her. However, it’s also bittersweet, Laforest’s memories are tinged with the pain of fleeing Haiti due to the political unrest from the Duvalier regime, her and what is left of her family are scattered across the world. They are only able to gather together every couple of years or so, due to the distance. She also feels that with every passing day that she is losing her language, Haitian Creole, her culture, and her memories of the Haïti that she knew. For her, the Haïti that exists now isn’t her Haïti, her Haïti is as gone as her relatives who were killed during the Duvalier regime (Laforest, 2010).

Dr. Marie-José Nzengou-Tayo, on the other hand, associates the song with fond memories of her grandfather, who used to sing it on his radio program. For Dr.Nzengou-Tayo, the lullaby brings a sense of nostalgia and joy, a stark contrast to Laforest’s sense of loss. Dr. Nzengou-Tayo doesn’t even really remember the Duvalier regime, only the memory of her grandfather singing Dodo ti pitite on the radio during that time, she is one of the lucky ones to have lived during that dark time to not remember it that way (Nzengou-Tayo, 2007).

 This lullaby’s emotional impact isn’t just felt in personal memories, though it extends into cultural and even political spheres. In Assassin’s Creed: Freedom Cry, a video game expansion set in 18th– century Haiti, Dodo ti pitite plays a pivotal role. The game follows Adéwalé, a former slave turned assassin, who uses the lullaby as a coded song to communicate covertly with fellow slaves (Ubisoft, 2013; Hammar, 2016). The song’s lyrics are a signal that Adéwalé is in search of someone, and only those who understand its hidden meaning and can guide him. In this context the lullaby becomes more than just a song, it’s a tool for survival and resistance. The slaves who sing it know that while the overseers may “hear” the song, they won’t “listen” to its true meaning. This echoes Barthes’s idea of listening versus hearing (Barthes, p. 245). While the oppressors only hear the song as background noise, the slaves are actively listening for messages of hope, direction, and safety (Raber, 2018).

The song, Dodo ti pitite, is woven deeply into the fabrics of Haiti’s history. Whether it’s a lullaby passed down through generations, a song of resistance in the face of oppression, or a reminder of what has been lost, it holds a significant place in the culture. For some, it’s a comforting connection to family and heritage, while for others, it’s a ghost of a past that can never be reclaimed.

 Ultimately, Dodo ti pitite teaches us that lullabies are more than just simple songs for children. They are vessels of history, culture, and resistance. They hold the stories of those who sang them and the struggles they endured. So, next time you hear a lullaby, take a moment to listen. You might find that there’s more to the song than you first thought.

 Thank you for listening to this episode. Remember, lullabies often carry with them more than meets the eye. I am Kathryn Ellis, sleep well and watch out for those man-eating crabs.

 Work Cited

Barthes, Roland. The Responsibility of Forms: New Critical Essays on Music, Art, and Representation. Hill and Wang, 1984.

Hammar, E. L. (2016). Counter-hegemonic commemorative play: marginalized pasts and the politics of memory in the digital game Assassin’s Creed: Freedom Cry. Rethinking History, 21(3), 372–395. https://doi.org/10.1080/13642529.2016.1256622

Jean Price-Mars, Price-Mars. Ainsi Parla L’Oncle Jean Price-Mars, Price-Mars. Memoire d’encrier, 1928.

Laforest, Marie-Hélène. “Sounds of Haiti.” Journal of Haitian Studies, vol. 16, no. 1, 2010, pp. 108–11. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41715470. Accessed 26 Mar. 2025.

Nzengou-Tayo, Marie-José. “Haitian Callaloo: What You Ask for Is Certainly Not What You Get!” Callaloo, vol. 30, no. 1, 2007, pp. 175–78. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/30135890. Accessed 23 Mar. 2025.

Raber, R. (2018). Conducting the Coded Message Songs of Slavery: Context, Connotation, and Performance Preparation. https://doi.org/https://library.ndsu.edu/ir/items/6dde07d3-806a-46cd-9d41-5f71c0e70efb

Ubisoft. (2013). Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag- Freedom Cry [Assassin’s Creed video game]. Montreal, Quebec: Ubisoft.