The myth of Anansi, the trickster spider - Emily Zobel Marshall

As the sun sets on a plantation in Jamaica,

children flock to Mr. Kwaku for a story.

They all know he’s full of tales from Ghana, the land of their ancestors.

But what they don’t know, Kwaku winks,

is how their ancestors got those stories in the first place.

Long ago, all stories belonged to Nyame, the all-seeing Sky God.

People on Earth were bored and knew nothing about their history.

But one creature decided enough was enough.

Anansi, the tricky, shapeshifting spider,

resolved to bring the stories down to Earth.

He spun a web that stretched into the clouds

and climbed up to confront the Sky God.

Crouching at Nyame’s feet, Anansi shouted at the top of his lungs

that he had come to take ownership of the world’s stories.

Looking down from his golden stool,

Nyame hooted with laughter at the spider’s absurd request.

Nyame told Anansi that he could have all the stories he wished—

but only if he could complete an impossible task.

If Anansi brought him Osebo the Leopard, Onini the Python,

Mmoboro the Hornet, and Mmoatia the Forest Spirit,

then he could take the stories.

Anansi humbly accepted.

Nyame didn’t see him grinning as he scuttled away.

Back on Earth, Anansi grabbed his magic bag and set to work.

Anansi found Onini the Python bathing in the sun.

Anansi scoffed that Onini couldn’t be the longest animal,

saying he looked no longer than a piece of bamboo cane.

Enraged, Onini stretched himself across the bamboo to prove his lengthiness.

Anansi quickly bound him tight-tight to each end and placed him in his bag.

Next, Anansi dug a great pit in the middle of the path

Osebo the Leopard usually prowled, and covered it with banana leaves.

Sure enough, mighty Osebo soon fell in.

Anansi scolded Osebo for his carelessness, but offered to rescue him.

As he helped Osebo out of the pit, Anansi swiftly jabbed him with his knife.

Osebo fell back to the ground

where Anansi wound him up tight-tight in spider thread.

Then, Anansi heard Mmoboro and his hornets buzzing.

He cautiously approached them.

This would be tricky— their stings could make someone swell up and die—

but Anansi knew they hated rain.

He filled his mouth with water and spat it at the swarm.

As they panicked, Anansi urged the hornets to shelter in his gourd,

where they found themselves trapped.

Anansi had one more task: to capture Mmoatia

the elusive and mischievous Forest Spirit.

She usually hid herself deep in the woods, but Anansi knew she was lonely.

So, he made a little doll covered in sap and left it in her path.

When she came upon it, Mmoatia spoke to the doll

but became enraged when it didn’t answer.

She hit the disrespectful doll

and her small fists stuck to its sticky surface.

Anansi wrapped Mmoatia up tight-tight and scooped her into his bag

along with the other creatures.

Triumphantly, he climbed his web back into the clouds.

When the Sky God saw that Anansi had completed the impossible task,

he was amazed.

Nyame told Anansi that he had earned the world’s stories.

Dancing for joy, Anansi gathered them up, stuffed the stories into his bag,

and descended to Earth.

There, he scattered the stories throughout the world for people to share.

And they did, Kwaku tells the children.

Generations have continued telling and reimagining Anansi’s stories

even after being stolen from Africa and enslaved.

Anansi may be small, but “cunning’s better than strong,” Kwaku says,

and tells the children to take Anansi’s stories with them wherever they go.

Looking at his audience, Kwaku knows that Anansi will persist

as a symbol of resourcefulness and resistance in the face of oppression,

and a testament to the enduring power of storytelling.