The Tortoise and the Pot of Wisdom

"The Tortoise and the Pot of Wisdom"

In the heart of ancient Yorubaland, where the sun shone brightly on the sacred city of Ilé-Ifè, lived all the animals. Among them was Ìjàpá, the Tortoise. Ìjàpá was famously clever, a trickster who used his sharp mind to get whatever he desired, often at the expense of others. He was also terribly proud of his intelligence and believed himself the wisest creature in all the land.

One day, Olódùmarè, the Supreme Being who ruled the heavens, decided to test the wisdom of the earth dwellers. He sent down a single, perfect clay pot, filled with all the world’s wisdom, and left it in the village center for anyone to take.

Ìjàpá found the pot first. He immediately recognized it as the ultimate treasure. "With all the world's wisdom inside me, no one will ever question my superiority!" he boasted to a passing squirrel.

He quickly tried to pick up the pot, but the heavy, round vessel was difficult for his small, clawed hands to hold. Determined, he decided the only way to carry it safely was to strap it onto his back, using strong vines.

He struggled and strained, trying to loop the vines over his shell and around the pot, which kept rolling and slipping from his grip. He finally managed to get the pot secure on his back, but realized he could not walk, as the pot was pressing down over his shell and blocking his view of the ground.

Ìjàpá was stuck. He pushed and pulled, huffed and puffed, trying every trick he knew, but the pot remained firmly in the way. He was in a comical, frustrating bind, and his pride kept him from calling for help.

A young boy, walking home from fetching water, came upon the struggling tortoise. The boy didn't laugh; he simply observed the predicament.

"Ìjàpá," the boy said respectfully, "why do you try to carry the pot on your back? The top of your shell is curved and round."

Ìjàpá paused, embarrassed that a child was witnessing his failure.

"Turn the pot over," the boy suggested gently. "Rest it on your head. That way, the flat bottom rests securely, and you can see where you are going."

Ìjàpá, swallowing his pride, did as the boy suggested. The pot fit perfectly on his head, the weight balanced, and he could walk with ease.

"No, Ìjàpá," the boy smiled. "I am just a boy. I learned that problem shared is half solved. Someone who picks the brains of others will never be short of wisdom".

In that moment, Ìjàpá realized the truth of the boy's words. All the wisdom in the world, stored in a pot on his head, was useless without the humility to listen to others and the community to share the load. From that day on, Ìjàpá became a little less boastful and a little more willing to ask for help.

The moral of Ìjàpá’s story: No matter how clever you think you are, no one knows everything. Humility and the willingness to learn from others are the greatest wisdom of all.