The Night the Drum Spoke Back

In the village of Obodo, there was one old drum. The elders said nobody should beat it after `Ezi abalị`. They said the drum belonged to the ancestors.

One boy called Obi didn’t believe it. He was the loudest boy in the village. One night, he and his friends dared each other. `Make we go beat the drum. Nothing go happen.`

It was 11:55pm. The village was quiet. Only crickets were singing. Obi carried a stick and walked to the village square. The drum was big, dusty, and old.

His friends were shaking. `Obi, let’s go home.`
Obi laughed. `Cowards.` He raised the stick and hit the drum once. _Boom._

Nothing happened.
He hit it again. _Boom. Boom._

Then the wind stopped. The crickets stopped. It became too quiet.

From inside the drum, a voice answered: `Onye kpọrọ m? Who called me?`

Obi’s legs turned to water. `Ezi mgbede... sir. I... I meela nke ọma... I was just playing.`
The voice said: `Children of today. You have no respect. Because you said "ezi mgbede" with fear, I will let you go. But never touch me again.`

_Whoosh._ A cold wind blew, and Obi found himself back in his bed. The drum was still in the square.

The next morning, Obi was the first person to greet every elder. `Ezi ụtụtụ. Ezi ehihie. Ezi mgbede. I meela.` He said it to everyone.

The elders smiled. `This boy don learn.`

*Moral:* Respect is a language. Even drums understand `Ezi mgbede` and `Daalu`.

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