Why the Lizard Keeps Nodding His Head

Why the Lizard Keeps Nodding His Head

Not far from where the clever Anansi lived stood a great city. In its very center rose a palace with a wide courtyard, shady trees, and colorful little flags above the gate.

The city’s ruler had three daughters. They loved music, riddles, and joyful festivals. They also kept an old family tradition: they never told anyone outside the family their private names.

One year, before a great festival, the ruler made an announcement:

“Whoever can honestly and cleverly discover the three secret names will open our festival, receive an honored golden sash, and sit at the first table with my family.”

The news raced through the city faster than the morning breeze.

“Three names?” Anansi smiled. “This is a task made just for me.”

He thought for a long time about how to solve the riddle. Asking directly would be no use. It would not do to listen in by the palace either; guards were always walking about. At last, Anansi bought a large jug of fragrant honey and went to the place where the ruler’s daughters took their daily walk by the garden.

At the edge of the path grew a tree with round, ripe fruit. Anansi climbed up, settled among the thick leaves, and waited.

Soon the three sisters came down the path. They chatted and laughed, never noticing the little spider high above their heads.

Anansi picked a fruit, drizzled honey over it, and quietly dropped it to the ground.

“Look!” cried one of the girls. “What a lovely fruit!”

She tasted it and, delighted, called one sister by her private name, then the other.

Anansi could hardly keep from clapping his little hands.

He drizzled honey over another fruit and dropped it closer to the second sister. She tasted it too and called to both the others. A third fruit confirmed what Anansi had heard.

“I’ve got them!” he whispered. “All three!”

When the sisters had gone, Anansi climbed down and hurried to visit his friend, Lizard.

Lizard was famous throughout the city for playing a long brass trumpet beautifully. At festivals, he gave signals, announced the start of dances, and called the guests to the table.

“My friend,” Anansi said, “I’ll need your trumpet at the palace tomorrow. I’ll tell you the three names, and when the ruler asks, you can sound them out one by one. It will be much grander that way.”

“All right,” said Lizard. “If it’s just to help with your presentation, I agree.”

Anansi told him the three secret names, and Lizard remembered them well.

The next morning, the palace courtyard was full of people. Musicians, craftspeople, traders, elders, and children had all come closer so they would not miss a thing.

Anansi stepped forward.

“Your Highness, the riddle has been solved!” he announced.

“Then tell us the names,” said the ruler.

Anansi turned to Lizard and gave him a signal.

Lizard raised his trumpet.

Toot-a-loo!

The first name rang across the courtyard.

Toot-a-loo!

The second followed.

Toot-a-loo!

Then the third.

For a moment everyone was still. Then the courtyard burst into applause.

The ruler looked straight at Lizard.

“So you know the secret names! Well done. You shall open today’s festival.”

Before Anansi could explain, the golden sash had already been tied around Lizard’s neck.

“Wait!” Anansi cried. “I’m the one who discovered them! Lizard only played what I told him!”

The ruler was surprised.

“Then why didn’t you explain that beforehand?”

Anansi was at a loss. He had been so eager to put on a grand show that he had not agreed with either the ruler or Lizard about who would be called the winner.

“Then give the sash to me!” Anansi demanded.

“Not today,” replied the ruler. “I will not take a prize away from someone I have just declared the winner. We can sort it out calmly after the festival.”

But Anansi did not want to wait.

He went home in a terrible temper.

“It’s all Lizard’s fault!” he grumbled. “I should never have trusted him with the trumpet. Now everyone thinks he’s the hero, not me.”

In truth, Lizard had stolen nothing from him. But when hurt feelings settle on someone’s shoulder, they often whisper very bad advice.

That evening, Anansi came up with a trick.

A little bronze bell shaped like a rooster hung beside the palace door. Every morning its ring announced that a new day had begun.

Anansi went to the ruler and said, “Tomorrow I want to set out on a journey before sunrise. Could your morning bell wake me in time?”

“Of course,” the ruler agreed.

When the city had gone to sleep, Anansi quietly returned to the palace, took the bronze rooster from its hook, and carried it to Lizard’s house.

He hid the bell in a large basket beside the door.

Early the next morning, before anyone had noticed it was missing, Anansi hurried to Lizard.

“My friend,” he whispered, “there will be a funny game for the heralds at the palace today. When anyone asks you a question, don’t speak. Just nod your head. Those are the rules.”

Lizard was surprised.

“Strange rules.”

“Very ancient!” Anansi said solemnly. “The important thing is not to say a word until I give you a signal.”

Lizard still thought Anansi was his friend, so he believed him.

Meanwhile, the palace discovered that the morning bell had disappeared.

“Who could have taken it?” the ruler wondered.

Anansi made the most innocent face he could manage.

“I’m not accusing anyone,” he said, “but Lizard was here for a long time yesterday. Perhaps we should ask him?”

The ruler sent a servant to Lizard’s house. The servant spotted the bronze rooster in the basket and brought it straight to the palace, along with Lizard.

“This was found by your door,” said the ruler. “Did you take the bell?”

Lizard remembered Anansi’s words and obediently nodded.

Everyone gasped.

“You really took it?” the ruler asked again.

Lizard nodded once more.

“And hid it in the basket?”

Lizard nodded again, though he was beginning to suspect that this was no game.

Anansi stood to one side, barely holding back a smile.

But this time Lizard looked at him carefully. He saw the sly glint in Anansi’s eyes, understood everything, and said loudly:

“That’s enough! I did not take the bell. Anansi told me this was a game and that I should answer only by nodding!”

The courtyard fell silent.

The ruler turned to Anansi.

“Is that true?”

Anansi shifted from one foot to the other.

“Well… I only wanted to… play a little joke.”

“A joke that could make your friend take the blame for something he did not do is a bad joke,” said the ruler.

After a short conversation, everything was clear. Lizard’s good name was restored. Neither he nor Anansi kept the golden sash that day.

“You both helped solve the riddle,” said the ruler. “One discovered the names; the other announced them. But cleverness must go hand in hand with honesty. So my daughters will open the festival themselves.”

The sisters stepped onto the balcony, laughed, and rang three little bells.

The music began, the guests danced, and the festival was a success after all.

From then on, Lizard was more careful. Whenever Anansi suggested another “wonderful plan,” Lizard first looked at him closely, then slowly nodded, as if to say:

“Yes, yes. I hear you. But this time I’ll check everything first.”

And old storytellers joke that this is why lizards so often move their heads up and down. Perhaps they are still reminding themselves: you can be friends with anyone, but you should not believe every tricky suggestion.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨