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Benedict

Once upon a time, in a quiet village nestled between seven hills and a wide, winding river, there lived a wealthy farmer named Baba Ogidi. Baba Ogidi was known throughout the land for his vast farmlands, his many goats and cows, and most especially, his wisdom. He was a man of great respect and honor, but he had one great sorrow—his three sons were the laziest boys anyone had ever known. The first son, Oba, loved to sleep. Morning, afternoon, and night, you would find him curled up under a raffia mat, snoring like a bush drum. The second son, Dede, was a smooth talker. He could talk his way out of anything but would lift no finger to help with any task. The third son, Kolapo, was the worst. He loved nothing but food. He would eat and eat, then sleep, and wake up only to eat again. Baba Ogidi tried everything he could to train them. He sent them to the farm. They ran back. He gave them land. They let it waste. He even brought elders to speak wisdom into them. The boys nodded and yawned. So, Baba Ogidi grew tired and sad. One dry season evening, as the red sun dipped behind the hills, Baba Ogidi called his sons. His voice was firm. “My sons,” he said, “I am growing old. My bones are tired, and my eyes no longer see like they used to. One day soon, I will go to the ancestors. I have decided that the one among you who shows he has sense and strength will inherit all that I own—my farmland, my cows, my goats, and my compound. The rest will receive only my blessing.” The three sons looked at each other in shock. Oba scratched his head, Dede frowned, and Kolapo belched. Oba asked, “Baba, what must we do?” Baba Ogidi smiled. “I will give each of you a task. Whoever completes it best shall become my heir.” The next morning, he took them to the edge of the forest and handed each a small pouch of cowries. “Take this,” he said, “and go out into the world. In seven days, return with something that will benefit this household greatly. Use your sense, not only your money. Go!” So the three sons set out, each in a different direction. --- Oba’s Journey Oba walked lazily down a dusty road, yawning every few steps. He soon came upon a woman selling mats. He thought to himself, If I buy mats, we can sleep more comfortably at home. So he spent all his cowries on thick mats and headed back to the village to sleep for the remaining days under a tree. --- Dede’s Journey Dede wandered until he found a town market bustling with people. He began talking to traders, charming women, and debating loudly in the square. He did not spend a single cowrie—he only talked and talked. After six days, he remembered Baba’s task. In a panic, he bought a large talking drum with all his money and headed home, thinking, With this drum, I can call people to our compound. That will make Baba happy. --- Kolapo’s Journey Kolapo was hungry by the second hour. He spent some cowries on roasted yam, some on palm wine, some on fried plantain. By the fifth day, he had only a handful of cowries left. Tired and broke, he sat under a tree near a small village. An old woman walked by, bent with age and carrying firewood. Kolapo waved her down. “Old woman,” he said, “I have no strength. Can you help me?” The woman stared at him. “Young man,” she replied, “you ask for help while I carry a burden twice my size. What have you done with your strength?” Ashamed, Kolapo offered to carry her firewood. As they walked, the woman asked him questions about life, farming, and responsibility. Something in her words touched him deeply. When they reached her hut, she gave him three magic beans. “Plant these,” she said, “and they will teach you something your father never could.” He planted the beans near a dry stream bed. Overnight, they grew into three large yams with golden skin. He dug them up and took them home, wondering if his father would understand their worth. --- The Judgment On the seventh day, the sons returned. Oba laid out the mats. “With these,” he said, “we shall sleep in comfort.” Dede banged on his talking drum. “With this, we shall attract people, make announcements, and hold great festivals!” Kolapo placed the three golden yams before his father and said nothing. Baba Ogidi asked, “What did you learn?” Oba yawned. “That sleep is sweet.” Dede smiled. “That talking is powerful.” Kolapo looked into his father’s eyes. “That nothing comes from laziness. I helped an old woman. She gave me these yams. I want to learn how to farm and grow more.” Baba Ogidi rose slowly. His eyes shone with tears. “At last,” he said, “one of you has listened.” He turned to the villagers, who had gathered to watch. “From this day, Kolapo is my heir. For he has learned the true wealth of a man: work, humility, and wisdom.” And so, Kolapo became a great farmer, wiser than even Baba Ogidi had been. Oba and Dede—after sulking for a while—began to change their ways too. The household prospered, and the village remembered for generations the tale of The Three Lazy Sons and the boy who became a man.