In a vibrant village nestled between Ghana’s rolling hills, every evening was alive with the rhythms of drums, the melodies of flutes, and the voices of the villagers singing in harmony. Every evening, that is, except in Anansi’s home. For, while Anansi loved stories, he couldn’t understand the allure of music. “Why does the village spend night after night lost in songs? What’s in a tune?” he’d often wonder aloud.
One evening, driven by his ever-present curiosity, Anansi decided he would uncover the secret behind the village’s love for music. He concocted a plan and invited the entire village to a grand feast at his house the next evening, with a promise of a musical surprise.
As the villagers gathered, dining on the finest dishes Anansi had prepared, they waited in anticipation for the promised musical extravaganza. But when the time came, Anansi revealed a large, sealed pot. “Inside this pot,” he declared, “I have captured all the music of the world. And now, I will release it!”
But when Anansi opened the pot, there was only silence. Confused, Anansi peered inside, but there was nothing to be seen or heard. The villagers whispered among themselves, puzzled.
An elderly woman, her face etched with the wisdom of many years, approached the front. “Anansi,” she began gently, “music cannot be captured or contained. It lives in our hearts, in the laughter of children, in the rustling of leaves, and in the rhythm of our footsteps. You cannot lock it away, for its true essence is to be felt and shared.”
Ashamed, Anansi realized his mistake. In his quest to understand music, he had tried to control and possess it, missing the very essence of its beauty and universality.
The wise old woman, sensing an opportunity for a lesson, handed Anansi a drum. Hesitantly, he began to tap it. Slowly, a rhythm emerged, the villagers began to clap, and soon, the night was alive with spontaneous music, more beautiful than ever before.
The next day, as the sun rose, the sounds of Anansi’s drumming could be heard, blending harmoniously with the village’s daily symphony.
Moral: True beauty and joy cannot be captured or owned; they are to be experienced and shared.