Why the Sky Is Far Away

Long, long ago in the ancient kingdom of Benin, the sky hung so low that little Adese could reach up and touch its soft, blue belly with her fingertips. The sky was not empty then—oh no! It was filled with the most delicious foods you could imagine: sweet plantains, juicy mangoes, tender yams, and rice that sparkled like tiny pearls.

Every morning, Adese would wake to the gentle rumble of Sky's voice, warm as thunder after rain. "Take what you need, little ones," Sky would whisper to the village. "I am here to feed you." The beads in Adese's braids would tinkle softly as she reached up to pluck just enough food for her family's breakfast, her small hands careful not to take too much.

In the village square, families gathered each day beneath Sky's generous canopy. Mama Kemi showed Adese how to reach up gracefully, taking only what their family needed for the day. "Sky gives us everything," Mama said, her coral beads catching the light. "We must honor this gift."

The Village Elder sat on his carved wooden stool, watching the children learn. His kind eyes crinkled as he saw Adese carefully select three small yams, leaving the rest for others. The whole village moved like a gentle dance—reaching, gathering, sharing. No one went hungry, and Sky smiled down upon them all, its blue face shimmering with joy.

But as seasons passed like whispered stories, some villagers began to forget Sky's kindness. Their hands grew greedy, grabbing more and more. They pulled down whole bunches of plantains when they needed only one. They seized armfuls of yams that would surely spoil before they could eat them.

Adese watched with worried eyes as her neighbor filled basket after basket, far more than his family could ever eat. The leftover food rotted in the corners of huts, and still the greedy hands reached for more. Sky's gentle rumble began to change, becoming deeper, sadder, like distant storm clouds gathering.

One morning, Sky's voice boomed across the village like thunder rolling over the hills. The shimmering blue face appeared in the clouds, eyes twinkling sadly like stars fighting through storm clouds. "My children," Sky said, its voice heavy with disappointment, "you take more than you need. You waste my gifts."

Adese felt her heart flutter like a bird in her chest as Sky's cloud-robes swirled with warning winds. The Village Elder stepped forward, his white agbada fluttering. "Forgive us, great Sky," he called out. "We will teach our people to be grateful again." But would it be enough? The air itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

The Village Elder called everyone to the great iroko tree in the center of the village. Adese sat close to Mama Kemi, her small fingers nervously touching her glass beads. "We must change our ways," the Elder said, his voice gentle but firm. "Sky has been generous, but we have been wasteful."

Some villagers nodded sadly, understanding their mistake. Others grumbled, their eyes still hungry for more than they needed. Adese stood up, her voice clear as morning birdsong: "Sky feeds us like a loving grandmother. We should only take what fills our bellies, not our greed." Her words drifted up like sweet incense, and for a moment, Sky's rumbling softened.

But the very next day, the greedy villagers returned to their wasteful ways. They grabbed and snatched, their arms full of more food than ten families could eat. Rotten plantains and spoiled yams piled higher around their huts like small, smelly mountains.

Sky's patience finally broke like a calabash dropped on stone. The blue face in the clouds grew dark with hurt and anger. "I have warned you," Sky's voice boomed, shaking the very earth. "Since you will not learn to be grateful, I will move where your greedy hands cannot reach!" The cloud-robes began to swirl faster and faster, lifting Sky higher and higher into the heavens.

Up, up, up Sky rose, its shimmering robes streaming like silver rivers through the air. Adese reached her small arms toward the departing Sky, tears rolling down her cheeks like tiny rivers. "Please don't go!" she called, but Sky was already too far to hear her gentle voice.

The villagers watched in shock as their source of easy food disappeared into the vast blue above. Where once they could simply reach up for a meal, now they saw only empty air and distant clouds. The greedy ones finally understood what their waste had cost them all. The Village Elder shook his head sadly, knowing that Sky's decision could not be undone.

From that day forward, the people of the village had to work for their food. They planted seeds in the rich earth, tended growing plants under the hot sun, and harvested crops with their own hands. Adese learned to help Mama Kemi in their small garden, her beads catching the light as she carefully watered each seedling.

Though the work was hard, Adese discovered something wonderful: food earned through care and patience tasted even sweeter than Sky's gifts. And sometimes, when the evening breeze was just right, she could hear Sky's gentle whisper from far above: "Remember to be grateful, little ones. Remember to take only what you need." The beads in her hair would tinkle softly, as if agreeing with the ancient wisdom floating down from the heavens.