How Beautiful Birds Lost Their Singing Voice
Long ago, when people and animals could understand each other, there was a flock of birds with feathers that were a dull, plain brown colour, like dry leaves and tree bark. They looked so ordinary that the other animals hardly noticed them. That was until they started to sing.
Every morning at sunrise, the birds filled the forest with the sweetest songs. Their beautiful voices travelled through the trees, down the paths, and along the river so that everyone could hear them. The antelope paused to listen. Monkeys gathered in the branches nearby. Even the elephants stopped beneath the trees to enjoy their songs.
The birds, however, did not realise how special their singing was. To them, it was normal.
So one afternoon, a travelling magician named Sonaike was passing through the forest when he heard them singing. Sonaike had never heard such beautiful singing before, so he sat down by the path and listened. As he listened, Sonaike grew increasingly jealous of the birds. “If I could sing like these birds,” he thought to himself, “kings and all the rich people would pay to hear me, and crowds would travel from far away to listen.”
Slowly, a wicked plan formed in Sonaike’s mind. He stood up and, with a warm smile, he greeted the birds. “Good afternoon, my friends,” he said kindly.
“I couldn’t help but notice just how plain your feathers are,” he continued. The birds looked at one another in confusion. They had never thought much about their feathers before.
Sonaike pointed toward the trees above them. “Look over there,” he said smoothly. “Those other birds are admired everywhere they go. People travel across kingdoms just to see their colourful feathers. But you? You are dull, brown, and easily forgotten.”
For the first time, the little birds felt ashamed of how they looked.
“We want to be colourful too,” one bird said in a sad voice.
Sonaike smiled to himself. “Of course,” he replied. “Luckily, I am a powerful magician. I can give you bright, colourful feathers that would make everyone jealous.”
The birds chirped excitedly.
“But,” Sonaike added carefully, “all magic requires payment.”
“What would we owe you?” asked the oldest bird.
Sonaike pretended to think deeply before answering. “Oh, it’s not much. Just your singing voices,” he said lightly. “The songs cannot be seen or touched, unlike colourful feathers, so you won’t miss them,” he reassured them.
The birds thought about it for a bit, and soon, their excitement overcame their doubts and they agreed.
Sonaike prepared a potion inside a calabash and gave each bird a sip. At once, their dull feathers exploded with colour. Some of them became emerald green, others bright yellow, deep blue, fiery orange, and shining red. The birds gasped with delight as they admired one another.
Then Sonaike opened a small calabash, and one by one, the birds’ beautiful voices flowed from their beaks like silver smoke into the container. When he had collected all their songs, Sonaike swallowed the calabash whole.
Immediately, his voice became rich and sweet. The birds opened their beaks to sing along with him, but instead of their usual sweet music, horrible, harsh squawks came out: “SQWAAAK! SQWAAAK!”
The other animals froze. The monkeys covered their ears, the antelope hurried away, and the elephants shook their heads as they left the clearing to avoid the horrible noise.
Days passed, and fewer and fewer animals visited the birds because although they were now colourful, their harsh calls kept the other animals away. Too late, the birds realised the truth: they had always been special because of their songs.
So while Sonaike got rich and famous for his amazing voice, the birds became famous only among humans. And to this day, many of them are hunted for their feathers or kept as pets in cages.
The End
The Moral of the Story:
This story teaches us why it is important to be grateful for what you have.
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