The Tortoise and the Talking Drum

Long ago, in a small village surrounded by thick green forests and farmlands, there lived a tortoise called Ijapa.

Ijapa was clever. Very clever.

But there was one problem with his cleverness: he used it more to deceive people than to help them.

If a farmer harvested ten baskets of yam, Ijapa would find a way to make the farmer believe that one of the baskets belonged to him. If a woman cooked a large pot of delicious soup, Ijapa would somehow appear at her door with a sad face and a story about how he had not eaten for three days.

The truth was that Ijapa was hardly ever hungry.

He simply loved getting something for nothing.

The villagers knew him very well.

Whenever Ijapa came walking into the village with his slow, deliberate steps, people would quickly secure their food.

“Hide the palm nuts!”

“Cover the beans!”

“Someone should watch the chickens!”

But Ijapa never minded what people said about him. He believed that being clever was more important than being honest.

One year, the village suffered a terrible drought.

The rain refused to fall.

The streams became shallow, the leaves turned brown, and the farmers began looking at the sky every morning with worried faces.

The elders gathered under the old iroko tree to discuss what to do.

“We must conserve the little food we have,” the village chief said. “Nobody should waste food.”

Everyone agreed.

Everyone except Ijapa.

As the days passed, the tortoise became increasingly frustrated.

There was less food to steal.

One afternoon, while wandering through the forest, Ijapa noticed something unusual.

He heard a sound.

Boom!

He stopped.

Boom! Boom!

The sound was coming from deep inside the forest.

Ijapa moved closer.

Behind a group of tall trees, he saw a strange old man sitting beside a large wooden drum.

The drum was beautifully carved. Strange patterns covered its surface, and its skin was as smooth as the wings of a bird.

The old man struck the drum gently.

Boom!

Immediately, the trees seemed to shake.

Ijapa's eyes widened.

“Good afternoon, Baba,” he greeted.

The old man looked at him.

“Good afternoon, Tortoise. What brings you here?”

“I was simply passing by.”

The old man smiled.

“Are you sure?”

Ijapa scratched his head.

“Well... perhaps I was attracted by the sound of your beautiful drum.”

The old man looked down at the drum.

“This is no ordinary drum.”

Ijapa's eyes became even wider.

“What does it do?”

“It gives according to the heart of the person who plays it.”

Ijapa did not understand.

The old man continued.

“If a person with a good heart plays it and asks for food, the drum will provide enough food to feed the hungry. If someone asks for wealth to help others, the drum may grant it. But if a person plays it out of greed, the drum will turn against that person.”

Ijapa nodded slowly.

But inside his head, another thought was already growing.

Food.

Wealth.

Everything I have ever wanted.

He smiled.

“Baba, may I touch it?”

The old man shook his head.

“No.”

“Just once?”

“No.”

“Just a little?”

“No.”

Ijapa frowned.

“Why?”

“Because you have not yet learned that cleverness without wisdom can destroy the person who possesses it.”

Ijapa pretended not to understand.

He thanked the old man and walked away.

But he did not go home.

Instead, he hid behind a tree.

He waited.

After some time, the old man picked up the drum and disappeared deeper into the forest.

Ijapa crept out of his hiding place.

He looked left.

He looked right.

Then he grabbed the drum.

“My luck has finally come!”

He carried it all the way home.

That night, he locked his door.

He placed the drum in front of him.

“What should I ask for first?”

He thought about it.

“Food!”

He struck the drum.

Boom!

Nothing happened.

He struck it again.

BOOM!

Still nothing.

Ijapa became angry.

“Stupid drum!”

He hit it harder.

BOOM!

Suddenly, there was a loud crash.

A basket of ripe mangoes appeared in front of him.

Ijapa's mouth fell open.

“Ah!”

He quickly ate one.

Then another.

Then another.

Before long, the entire basket was empty.

Ijapa rubbed his stomach happily.

“This is better than stealing.”

The next morning, he tried again.

This time, he asked for yams.

Boom!

Yams appeared.

He asked for plantains.

Boom!

Plantains appeared.

He asked for palm nuts.

Boom!

Palm nuts appeared.

Soon, Ijapa's house was overflowing with food.

But he did not share any of it.

Instead, he built a small storehouse behind his house and filled it with everything the drum produced.

Every morning, the villagers watched him carry food into the storehouse.

One day, a hungry little boy approached him.

“Uncle Ijapa, please, can I have some food?”

Ijapa frowned.

“Go away.”

“But I am hungry.”

“Then find food.”

The boy lowered his head and walked away.

Ijapa watched him leave without feeling any pity.

The villagers became suspicious.

“How is Ijapa getting so much food when our farms are dry?”

Nobody knew.

But the chief decided to investigate.

Meanwhile, Ijapa's greed grew.

He no longer wanted just food.

“I want gold!”

He struck the drum.

BOOM!

Gold appeared.

His eyes almost jumped from their sockets.

“I am rich!”

He asked for more.

BOOM!

More gold.

Soon, his house was filled with gold.

He bought beautiful clothes.

He bought beads.

He bought expensive horses.

He even built a large house for himself.

The villagers could not understand how Ijapa, who had been poor only a few weeks earlier, had suddenly become wealthy.

Then one evening, the chief summoned him.

“Ijapa,” the chief said, “tell me the truth. Where are you getting all this wealth?”

Ijapa smiled innocently.

“I am simply lucky.”

The chief stared at him.

“Luck does not usually fall into a man's lap every morning.”

Ijapa laughed.

“Perhaps the gods favour me.”

The chief said nothing.

But he watched him carefully.

That night, Ijapa returned home.

He sat beside the drum.

“I have enough food. I have gold. I have clothes. I have a beautiful house.”

He smiled.

“But I want more.”

He thought for a while.

“I want the whole village to belong to me.”

He raised the drumstick.

Boom!

Nothing happened.

He struck again.

BOOM!

Nothing.

He struck it a third time.

BOOM!

The drum suddenly began shaking.

Ijapa stepped back.

“What is happening?”

The drum began speaking.

Not beating.

Speaking.

“You have taken and taken,” it said.

Ijapa froze.

“You have eaten while others went hungry. You have gathered wealth while others suffered. You have asked for everything but given nothing.”

Ijapa's body trembled.

“Please, I can change.”

The drum replied,

“Can you?”

Ijapa nodded quickly.

“Yes! Yes! I can!”

But it was too late.

The drum suddenly exploded with a deafening sound.

BOOOOOOM!

Every basket of food in Ijapa's storehouse disappeared.

The gold vanished.

His beautiful clothes disappeared.

His expensive furniture vanished.

Even the large house he had built began to shake.

Ijapa ran outside.

CRASH!

The house collapsed behind him.

He stood in the dust, staring at the ruins.

By morning, the whole village had gathered.

The chief looked at him.

“What happened?”

Ijapa could no longer lie.

He told them everything.

He told them about the old man.

He told them about the magical drum.

He told them how he had stolen it.

The villagers were angry.

But before they could punish him, the old man appeared at the edge of the village.

Everyone became silent.

The old man walked toward Ijapa.

“I warned you.”

Ijapa bowed his head.

“I know.”

“You thought being clever meant taking from others.”

Ijapa said nothing.

The old man turned to the villagers.

“This drum was never meant to make one person rich. It was meant to provide for the community.”

He picked up the drum.

“Greed made Ijapa believe that having everything meant having enough. But a person who wants everything will never have enough.”

He struck the drum once.

BOOM!

Suddenly, dark clouds gathered over the village.

The villagers looked up.

A drop of rain fell on the chief's forehead.

Then another.

Then another.

Within moments, rain began pouring from the sky.

The villagers shouted with joy.

Children danced in the rain.

Farmers lifted their faces toward the sky.

Women laughed as they ran to collect water.

Ijapa stood quietly beneath a tree, watching.

For the first time in his life, he understood something.

He had spent so much time trying to have more that he had forgotten how to appreciate what he already had.

The following morning, Ijapa went from house to house.

He apologized.

He helped the farmers clear their fields.

He carried water for the elderly.

When food was harvested, he shared his portion with those who had less.

At first, nobody trusted him.

And they had every reason not to.

But Ijapa continued.

Day after day.

Month after month.

Slowly, the villagers began to see that something had changed.

One afternoon, the little boy who had once begged Ijapa for food approached him.

“Uncle Ijapa.”

Ijapa smiled.

“Yes?”

“Can I have a mango?”

Ijapa laughed.

“Of course.”

He gave the boy two.

The boy smiled and ran away.

Ijapa watched him go.

For the first time, giving something away made him happier than keeping it.

Years later, whenever children gathered around the fire at night, the elders would tell them the story of Ijapa and the talking drum.

And whenever they reached the part where Ijapa asked the magical drum for the whole village, the children would laugh.

But the elders always ended the story with the same words:

“Cleverness may open a door, but wisdom teaches you which door to enter. Greed may fill your hands, but only generosity can fill your heart.”

And from that day onward, Ijapa was still known as the cleverest creature in the village.

But this time, people added another word to his name.

They called him Ijapa the Wise.

Because he had finally learned that the greatest treasure is not what a person can gather for himself, but what he can give to others.

Moral: Greed can make a person lose what truly matters. True wealth is found in kindness, contentment, and the willingness to share with others.