The Drummer Who Played at Midnight

There was a village in Ekiti where nobody drummed after 9pm. Elders said the spirits come out at midnight to dance.

One young drummer, *Dele*, didn’t believe it. “Superstition,” he said. “I need money for my sister’s school fees.”

So on market day eve, he took his talking drum to the town square at exactly 12am. Nobody was around.

He started playing. _Gbe gbe gbe... gbo gbo gbo..._

After 3 minutes, he heard footsteps. Then another drum answered him from the bush. _Gbe gbe gbe... gbo gbo gbo..._
Perfect rhythm. Better than his.

Dele got excited. “Who’s there? Come and jam!”

A group of people in white walked out. Their faces were blurred, like smoke. They were dancing, but their feet didn’t touch the ground.

The lead one said, “You called us. Now dance with us until the cock crows.”

Dele wanted to run but his legs were moving on their own. He drummed and danced till his hands bled.

Right when the first cock crowed — _ko-ko-ro-ko!_ — the spirits vanished. Dele collapsed.

Villagers found him at dawn, alive, but his hair had turned white. And his drum? It was full of sand.

From that day, Dele became the best drummer in the land. But he never played after 9pm again. And he always leaves a plate of kola for “his midnight band” before any performance.

*Moral:* _Respect the rules of a place, even if you don’t understand them. Some audiences pay in ways you don’t expect._

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