20/10/2025
The Drum of Wise Words #
In the heart of Udala Forest lived a young rabbit named Ogwugwu. He was small, swift, and sharp-eyed but he had one terrible problem: he talked too much.
Ogwugwu talked when he ate, talked when he walked, talked when no one was listening, and talked even when no one wanted to listen. He interrupted the tortoise during storytelling, exposed the squirrel’s hiding place of palm nuts, and once, he spoke so much during council that even the parrots covered their ears.
“Your tongue will bring you trouble one day,” warned Nne Mbe, the wise old tortoise.
But Rabbit only laughed. “How can talking be a problem? Words are free!”
One day, the animals gathered for the annual Wisdom Festival. At the heart of the festival stood the Sacred Drum of Truth, carved from iroko wood and bound with the hide of an ancient ram. It was said that the drum only sounded when words of wisdom were spoken.
When it was Rabbit’s turn to speak, he hopped to the center proudly.
“Ha! Wisdom is easy,” he boasted. “Let me just say anything.”
But when he spoke, the drum remained silent. He tried again, faster this time, pouring out sayings, jokes, and useless words. Still silence.
“Young rabbit,” said the tortoise, “wisdom is not found in noise.”
The forest elders murmured together, then handed Ogwugwu the drum.
“You must carry this drum,” they declared, “and travel the forest to learn wisdom. The drum will only sound when you speak words worth hearing.”
Rabbit tried to argue, but it was no use. From that day, he walked with the silent drum hanging from his neck. Whenever he talked too much, the animals he met walked away. They were tired of empty words.
One evening, tired and hungry, Rabbit stopped by a lonely riverbank. A small bird sat crying on a stone her nest had fallen into the river.
For once, Rabbit did not rush to speak. He listened.
“Please,” the bird wept, “my eggs are gone. My children will never hatch.”
For the first time in his life, Rabbit felt words gather in his heart rather than his mouth.
“I am sorry,” he said gently. “But as long as the sun rises, hope is never lost. Come let us build another nest. This time, stronger.”
BOOMMM!
The drum echoed like thunder across the river. Rabbit jumped in surprise. The bird blinked through her tears.
“You made the drum speak,” she whispered.
Rabbit helped her build a new nest among the reeds, safe from the wind and water. As they worked, he spoke little. But when he did speak, the drum sounded again steadily, patiently, truthfully.
By the time he returned to the forest council, the animals were stunned to hear the once-noisy rabbit now speak with calm and meaning.
“Wisdom,” Rabbit said quietly, placing a paw on the drum, “is not in how many words you speak but in how true they are.”
And from that day, whenever Rabbit spoke, animals stopped to listen—not because he talked too much, but because he finally had something worth saying.
Moral:
The tongue has power but only wise words carry weight.
