Long ago, a great drought covered the land. Rain had not fallen in months. The sun baked the earth until the rivers dried into dusty scars, the crops wilted in the fields, and the animals wandered in search of water and shade. The people of the village grew thin and weary. Hunger was no longer a warning but a constant companion.
In the corner of the village, sat Anansi the spider, muttering to his family. “There is no food left,” he complained. “But I would rather starve than work in the fields.” Though Anansi never considered himself lazy, he believed hard labour was for others. He preferred cleverness over effort and would rather trick his way to comfort than toil in the sun.
One afternoon, while wandering the shoreline hoping to stumble upon something edible, Anansi spotted a curious glint in the distance. Far out in the ocean, he saw what looked like a small island crowned with a single palm tree. It had not been there before. His curiosity awakened, and with desperation growing in his belly, Anansi found an old canoe left to rot near the beach. Though it leaked and creaked, he pushed it into the sea and paddled toward the strange island.
After hours of slow, tiring effort, he arrived. At the foot of the palm tree lay a scatter of large, ripe nuts—the first food he had seen in weeks. Anansi quickly climbed the tree and began shaking the branches. Dozens of nuts fell, but to his dismay, they bounced off the rocky ground and into the sea. One by one, they sank.
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Determined not to lose everything, Anansi dove after them. He expected to swim or drown, but instead, he sank straight down. Down past the seabed, deeper still, until he landed gently on something warm and glowing. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in water but standing inside a luminous cottage beneath the ocean.
A tall spirit stood before him. His eyes shone like polished silver, and his voice echoed like distant thunder. “Why have you come to my home?” asked the spirit.
Anansi bowed. “I am hungry,” he said. “My family is hungry. The land above has dried, and we have nothing left.”
Thunder, the spirit, looked upon Anansi and took pity. He reached for a small pot from the hearth and handed it to him. “Say the words, ‘Cook, my little pot, cook,’ and it shall feed you. When you are full, say, ‘Stop, little pot, stop.’ But remember this: greed ruins what generosity creates.”
Anansi thanked him and returned to the village, the pot hidden beneath his robe.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed with empty stomachs, Anansi lit a small fire, placed the pot above it, and whispered, “Cook, my little pot, cook.” At once, the pot filled with warm food—stewed yams, roasted fish, and thick spicy soups. He ate until he could eat no more, then whispered the second phrase and the pot ceased.
For days, Anansi repeated this ritual in secret. By day he played the part of a starving villager, moaning with his neighbours and sighing before his children. But each night he ate alone, hidden in the dark.
Eventually, his wife noticed. She followed him one night and saw him whispering to the pot. Her heart was torn. Their children were hungry, and the village was suffering. She took the pot the next day and fed her family. Then she cooked enough to feed the neighbours. Word spread quickly, and soon the pot was feeding the whole village.
When Anansi returned and saw what had happened, he was furious. He snatched the pot from his wife and shouted at those who had eaten. In a panic, he tried to use the pot again, but it had been used too often and too hastily. It cracked from the heat and shattered into pieces.
Once again, the village went hungry.
Ashamed but still hungry, Anansi returned to the sea and asked Thunder for another pot.
Thunder looked at him with quiet understanding and handed him a stick. “Say the words,” he said.
Anansi paddled home and, as before, waited until night. Then he whispered, “Cook, my little stick, cook.”
But instead of food, the stick sprang to life and began to beat him. He fled, but the stick chased him through the village, striking him again and again. He begged it to stop, and eventually, it did, leaving him bruised and broken.
From that day on, Anansi never forgot the lesson. Generosity builds. Greed destroys.
Story Source:
This tale comes from the oral traditions of the Ashanti people of Ghana, where Anansi the spider appears as a symbol of wit and cunning. His stories are passed down through generations to teach lessons about human behaviour, morality, and community.
Moral Lesson:
Hoarding blessings leads to loss. Sharing them creates abundance.
This story reminds us that when we use gifts only for ourselves, they lose their value. Anansi was given a magical pot that could have fed his entire village. Instead, he hid it and feasted alone while his children and neighbours starved. Only when others discovered the pot did it serve its true purpose—bringing life and nourishment to many. His refusal to share led to its destruction and brought punishment instead of reward.
The tale also illustrates that selfishness does not go unnoticed and often leads to public disgrace. Meanwhile, generosity multiplies. One pot fed a village. One selfish act led to pain.
Knowledge Check: Questions and Answers
- What caused Anansi to search for food across the sea?
A long drought had left his village with no food or water. - Who did Anansi meet in the underwater home?
A powerful spirit named Thunder. - What did Thunder give to Anansi the first time?
A magical pot that produced food when given a command. - Why did the magic pot break?
It was overused and mistreated after others in the village began using it. - What did Thunder give Anansi the second time?
A stick that beat him when activated. - What lesson does the story of Thunder and Anansi teach?
It teaches that selfishness and greed can destroy what generosity was meant to provide.
