Anansi and Thunder’s Gifts: An Akan Folktale

General Location: Southern Ghana (Akan) / Map data ©2019 Google

This Akan folktale tells the tale of Anansi, who received a wonderful gift from Thunder and selfishly kept it to himself. 

A long and severe famine struck the land where Anansi lived, and he was unable to obtain food for his poor family. One day, gazing desperately out to sea, he saw rising from the midst of the water, a tiny island with a tall palm-tree upon it.

Anansi determined to reach this tree and climb it, in the hope of finding a few nuts. When he reached the beach, there lay an old broken boat. It certainly did not look very strong, but Anansi decided to try it.

His first six attempts were unsuccessful—a great wave dashed him back on the beach each time he tried to put off. He was persevering, however, and at the seventh trial was successful in getting away. He steered the battered old boat as best he could, and at length reached the palm-tree of his desire.

Having tied the boat to the trunk of the tree—which grew almost straight out of the water—he climbed toward the nuts. Plucking all he could reach, he dropped them, one by one, down to the boat. To his dismay, they all missed the boat and fell into the water until only the last one remained. This he aimed even more carefully than the others, but it also fell into the water and disappeared from his hungry eyes.

Anansi had not tasted a single nut and now all were gone.

Anansi could not bear the thought of going home empty-handed, so, in his despair, he threw himself into the water. To his complete astonishment, instead of being drowned, he found himself standing on the sea-bottom in front of a pretty little cottage.

An old man emerged and asked Anansi what he wanted so badly that he had come to Thunder’s cottage to seek it. Anansi told his tale of woe, and Thunder showed himself sympathetic. He went into the cottage and fetched a fine cooking-pot, which he presented to Anansi, telling him that he need never be hungry again. The pot would always supply enough food for himself and his family.

Anansi was most grateful and left Thunder with many thanks.

Anxious to test the pot at once, Anansi only waited till he was again seated in the old boat to say, “Pot, pot, what you used to do for your master do now for me.”

Immediately good food appeared, and Anansi ate a hearty meal.

On reaching land, his first thought was to give his family a good meal from his wonderful pot. But a selfish, greedy fear took hold of him. “What if I used up all the magic of the pot on them, and have nothing left for myself?”

So Anansi hid the pot.

Anansi reached home pretending to be utterly worn out with fatigue and hunger. There was not a grain of food to be had anywhere. His wife and poor children were weakened, but selfish Anansi took no notice of that. He congratulated himself at the thought of his magic pot, now safely hidden in his room.

From time to time when he felt hungry, Anansi went to the pot and enjoyed a good meal. His family got thinner and thinner, but he grew plumper and plumper. They began to suspect some secret and determined to find it out.

Anansi’s eldest son, Kweku Tsin, had the power of changing himself into any shape he chose; so he took the form of a tiny fly and accompanied his father everywhere.

At last, Anansi, feeling hungry, entered his room and closed the door. He took out the pot and had a fine meal. Having returned the pot in its hiding-place, he went out on the pretence of looking for food.

As soon as he was safely out of sight, Kweku Tsin fetched the pot and called all his hungry family to come at once. They had as good a meal as their father had had. When they had finished, Mrs. Anansi—to punish her husband—said she would take the pot down to the village and give everybody a meal.

But alas! in working to prepare so much food at one time, the pot grew too hot and melted away. What was to be done now? Anansi would be so angry! His wife forbade everyone to mention the pot.

Anansi returned, ready for his supper, and went into his room, carefully shutting the door. He went to the hiding-place—it was empty. He looked around in consternation. No pot was to be seen anywhere. Someone must have discovered it. His family must be the culprits; he would find a means to punish them.

Saying nothing to anyone about the matter, he waited till morning. As soon as it was light he started off towards the shore, where the old boat lay. Getting into the boat, it started of its own accord and glided swiftly over the water—straight for the palm-tree.

Anansi attached the boat as before and climbed the tree. This time, unlike the last, the nuts almost fell into his hands. When he aimed them at the boat they fell easily into it—not one, as before, dropping into the water.

Anansi then deliberately threw them overboard, immediately jumping after them. As before, he found himself in front of Thunder’s cottage, with Thunder waiting to hear his tale. This he told, and the old man showed the same sympathy as he had previously done.

This time, however, he presented Anansi with a fine stick. Anansi could scarcely wait till he got into the boat to try the magic properties of his new gift. “Stick, stick,” he said, “what you used to do for your master do for me also.”

The stick began to beat Anansi so severely that, in a few minutes, he was obliged to jump into the water and swim ashore, leaving the boat and stick to drift away. Anansi returned home sorrowfully, bemoaning his many bruises and wishing he had acted more wisely.

If you enjoyed reading this Akan folktale, then please consider keeping it alive by sharing it with your friends. You can find many more Ghanese folktales by visiting our dedicated collection. 

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