The land had been suffering for three long years. A terrible famine gripped every village, and hunger gnawed at the bellies of men, women, and children alike. Fields that once bloomed with yam and maize now lay barren, and the people grew weaker by the day.
Kweku Tsin, a young man known for his persistence, wandered into the forest each morning hoping, just hoping, that he might stumble upon food. His steps were heavy, his body frail, yet determination carried him forward.
One day fortune smiled on him. As he searched beneath the tall trees, he spotted three palm kernels lying on the ground, their smooth brown shells glistening faintly in the dim light. His heart leapt. He quickly gathered two stones to crack them, eager to quiet the ache of his hunger. But fate played a trick: the first nut slipped and rolled into a hole behind him. The second followed the same way, and then the third.
Kweku Tsin’s frustration boiled over. He cursed his clumsiness and, desperate not to lose his find, decided to climb down into the hole. What he discovered astonished him. The hole was no mere hollow in the ground but the entrance to a hidden town, silent, empty, and unfamiliar.
“Is there nobody in this place?” he called.
His voice echoed until a soft answer came from one of the houses. Inside sat an old woman, her eyes deep with wisdom. She listened patiently as Kweku explained his misfortune. The old woman, kind and sympathetic, promised to help him, if only he would obey her instructions.
“Go into the garden,” she told him, “and listen carefully to the yams. Some will say, ‘Dig me out, dig me out!’ Do not take those. Choose instead the one that says, ‘Do not dig me out.’ Bring it to me.”
Kweku followed her advice. The yam he brought seemed ordinary, but the woman told him to peel it, discard the flesh, and boil only the rind. Though puzzled, he obeyed. To his amazement, the rind transformed into yam, rich and plentiful. They ate together, but only after she warned him not to look at her while she ate. Respectful and obedient, he kept his eyes lowered.
That evening she sent him again to the garden. This time she told him to choose one of the drums resting there. “Touch them,” she instructed. “Take the one that says ‘Ding-ding.’ But beware of any that sound ‘Dong-dong.’”
Kweku obeyed once more. He brought back the proper drum, and the old woman smiled. “Whenever hunger strikes,” she said, “beat this drum, and food will come in abundance.”
Grateful beyond measure, Kweku thanked her and returned home. When he gathered his family and beat the drum, food of every kind appeared before their eyes. They ate until they were satisfied, rejoicing at this miracle.
The next day, Kweku called the whole village to the Assembly Place. When he struck the drum again, mountains of food appeared, feeding every household. The people praised him, thankful for his gift.
But Anansi, Kweku’s father, felt no joy. Jealous and resentful, he believed he should be the one receiving the villagers’ gratitude. He pestered Kweku until his son reluctantly revealed how he had come by the drum.
Without delay, Anansi set off toward the hidden town. Carrying an old palm nut, he pretended to crack it and threw it into the hole before jumping in after it. He shouted at the first house, “Is there nobody in this town?” The old woman appeared once more.
But unlike his son, Anansi was rude and demanding. “Hurry up, old woman, and give me something to eat,” he snapped.
The woman quietly told him the same instructions she had given Kweku: choose the yam that said ‘Do not dig me out.’
Anansi sneered. “You must think me a fool. I will take the one that asks to be dug up.” And so he did.
When she instructed him to boil the rind and discard the flesh, he laughed at her. “Who would throw away the yam? I will eat the good part.” He boiled the flesh, but it turned into stones. Angry, he was forced to do as she had first said. Though the rind eventually became yam, he muttered bitterly, calling her a witch.
At the meal, she gave him a small table and told him not to watch her while she ate. But Anansi defied her. “I will sit at your table,” he declared, and not only ate his share but hers as well.
Finally, she told him to choose a drum, warning him again to take only the one that said ‘Ding-ding.’
“You think you can trick me,” he sneered. “I will take the one that says ‘Dong-dong.’”
He seized it and left without a word of thanks.
Back in the village, Anansi proudly called everyone to the Assembly Place, boasting that he would provide food. The people, eager and excited, came with bowls and trays. He struck the drum.
But instead of food, out poured beasts and serpents of every kind, creatures never before seen on the earth. Lions roared, serpents hissed, leopards snarled, and the people fled in terror. Only Anansi stood frozen, punished by the consequences of his arrogance and greed.
From that day forward, the beasts and serpents scattered across the forests, roaming the earth as they still do today.
Moral Lesson
The tale teaches that obedience, humility, and respect bring blessings, while arrogance and greed invite chaos and ruin.
Knowledge Check
Q1: Who was Kweku Tsin in the Ashanti folktale?
Kweku Tsin was the humble, obedient young man who discovered the magical drum that produced food.
Q2: What role did the old woman play in the story?
She acted as a guide and test of character, rewarding obedience and punishing pride.
Q3: How did Anansi’s behavior differ from his son’s?
Anansi was greedy, rude, and disobedient, while Kweku was respectful and obedient.
Q4: Why did beasts and serpents first appear on earth in this legend?
They emerged when Anansi struck the wrong drum, unleashing wild creatures instead of food.
Q5: What moral lesson does the story teach?
The tale emphasizes humility, respect for wisdom, and the dangers of arrogance and greed.
Q6: What is the cultural origin of this folktale?
This story originates from the Ashanti people of Ghana.
Source: Ghanaian Folktale
