In a remote village nestled between the green shoulders of Guinea’s Fouta Djallon mountains, there lived a boy named Demba. He was known for two things: his stubborn curiosity and his whistle, carved from the bone of a gazelle. It was not an ordinary whistle. When Demba blew it, it made a sound that could make the birds freeze in midair and the goats stop chewing. It was as if the earth paused to listen.
His mother warned him, “That whistle carries more than sound, Demba. It calls things from beyond.”
But Demba laughed. “Mama, it’s just a bone with holes.”
He would walk through the rice fields at dusk, blowing it proudly. The farmers shook their heads. “The boy plays with fire.”
One evening, as the moon lifted like a silver eye, Demba stood by the stream and played a new melody. The whistle sang out in strange, winding notes that echoed through the forest like the hiss of snakes. Suddenly, the night fell silent. Not a cricket, not a leaf stirred. Then, from the bushes, came a low growl — A hyena.
But not like any Demba had seen before. Its eyes glowed blue. Its fur shimmered like night oil. It stood upright and spoke.
“You called me, boy.”
Demba dropped the whistle. His heart hammered. “I didn’t mean— I was just playing.”
“But you used the Song of the Hollow Bone. That’s not just music. That’s an invitation.”
Demba stammered, “Who are you?”
The hyena grinned, its teeth long and yellow. “Once, I was a man like you. I found the same whistle. I played its song. But I loved the power too much. The spirits changed me. Now I serve the Bone Song.”
It crouched low. “And so must you.”
Demba ran.
He ran through the banana groves, past the silent huts, all the way to the old griot’s house. The griot, Papa Kouyaté, had seen many things in his years, and he knew the legends.
“The Song of the Hollow Bone,” the old man muttered, “is not a toy. It was made by the first drummer to call spirits in the time of famine. Only one who knows the right counter-melody can send the creature back.”
Demba begged, “Teach me.”
Papa Kouyaté nodded and began to drum. A slow rhythm at first, then faster, then soft again. “This is the melody of farewell. Learn it with your heart.”
The next night, Demba went alone into the bush. The whistle was cold in his hand. The hyena waited, crouched on a boulder like a shadow made real.
“You returned,” it said.
Demba raised the whistle to his lips, but instead of the summoning tune, he played the counter-melody. Soft, winding, like a breeze through old trees.
The hyena froze.
“No…” it whispered. “That song… it releases me…”
The creature howled once, and its form began to ripple. Fur turned to smoke. Eyes faded. In seconds, the hyena was gone, and in its place lay only an old bone, hollow and smooth.
Demba picked it up and buried it under a baobab.
From that day, he never played the whistle again. But at night, the baobab sometimes hummed when the wind passed through it — as if the spirit of the song still lingered, waiting.
✧ Commentary
This Guinean folktale blends mystery, music, and morality into a story that warns against the misuse of spiritual tools. The whistle, made from a bone and carrying ancient power, represents the allure of control without understanding. The tale also celebrates oral traditions and the wisdom of elders like the griot, who hold the knowledge needed to restore balance. It reminds us that some melodies are better left unplayed and that curiosity without humility can awaken dangers best left sleeping.
✧ Moral
Not every gift is a blessing — true wisdom is knowing when not to use power.
✧ Questions & Answers
1. Q: What made Demba’s whistle special? A: It was carved from a gazelle bone and could summon supernatural beings through its unique melody.
2. Q: What happened when Demba played the strange tune? A: He unknowingly summoned a spirit-possessed hyena that had once been human.
3. Q: Who helped Demba understand the whistle’s danger? A: Papa Kouyaté, the village griot, taught him the counter-melody to undo the summoning.
4. Q: How did Demba defeat the hyena spirit? A: He played the farewell melody, which released the hyena’s spirit and turned it back to a bone.
5. Q: What did Demba do with the bone afterward? A: He buried it beneath a baobab tree and never played the whistle again
