Why the Vulture Is Bald

Gather close, children of the village, and let me tell you a story passed down from our ancestors, when the world was younger and animals spoke as we do. This is the tale of why the vulture’s head gleams bare under the sun, a lesson written in feathers and folly.

The Great Feast of the Sky

Long ago, when Nyame the Sky God still walked among creatures on earth, a great celebration was announced in the heavens. The birds were invited to a magnificent feast that would last seven days and seven nights, where honey would flow like rivers and the finest palm wine would sparkle in golden calabashes.

Word spread swiftly through the forest canopy. The hornbill trumpeted the news with his great beak, the parrot squawked colorful announcements, and even the tiniest sunbird hummed with excitement. Every bird in the forest began preparing for this celestial gathering.

Vulture, who in those days wore a crown of magnificent feathers upon his head—feathers that shimmered like black gold in the morning light—felt a surge of pride swell in his breast. “Surely,” he thought, puffing out his broad chest, “I will be the most honored guest at this feast. Am I not the largest of all birds? Do I not soar higher than any other? The Sky God must surely intend this feast especially for me.”

His wife, a gentle creature with kind eyes, watched him preen before their nest. “My husband,” she said softly, “remember that all birds are invited equally. This feast is not about who is greatest, but about celebrating together.”

But Vulture’s head was already filled with visions of glory. “Nonsense, my dear wife. You’ll see. When I arrive at the heavenly feast, adorned in my magnificent plumage, even Nyame himself will acknowledge my superiority.”

The Preparation

As the day of departure approached, all the birds began their preparations. They polished their beaks until they gleamed, smoothed their feathers, and practiced their most graceful flights. The forest echoed with the sound of wings being preened and songs being rehearsed.

But Vulture went further than all the rest. He spent days arranging every single feather on his head, making sure each one caught the light perfectly. He found the whitest clay to polish his beak and the finest palm oil to make his feathers shine.

“Look at me,” he would call to the other birds. “Have you ever seen such magnificence? The Sky God will surely seat me at his right hand when he sees how I have honored this occasion.”

The other birds began to whisper among themselves. Hornbill shook his great head sadly. “Pride grows thick in our brother’s heart,” he murmured.

Peacock, despite his own spectacular plumage, felt uncomfortable. “I may be beautiful,” he said, “but I remember my place in the great circle of creation.”

The wise old owl, who rarely spoke during the day, opened one golden eye. “When pride flies too high,” she hooted softly, “it always finds a way to fall.”

The Flight to Heaven

When the appointed day arrived, the birds gathered at the great baobab tree, their traditional meeting place. The air thrummed with hundreds of wings as they prepared for the journey to the sky realm. Vulture positioned himself at the front of the formation, his head-feathers catching the first rays of dawn like a crown of obsidian jewels.

“Follow me,” he announced proudly. “I shall lead us to the heavenly feast, as is proper for the greatest among us.”

The journey to the sky realm was long and arduous. Higher and higher they flew, past the clouds where eagles dared not venture, past the winds that carried the rains, into the rarified air where only spirits dwelt. Vulture flew strongly, his powerful wings carrying him with ease, his magnificent head-dress streaming behind him like a banner of pride.

As they climbed toward the heavens, the very air began to shimmer with divine light. The smell of countless delicacies wafted down to them—roasted guinea fowl, sweet honey cakes, palm wine aged in celestial gourds, and fruits that grew only in Nyame’s own garden.

Vulture’s mouth watered, but more than hunger, anticipation swelled in his breast. Soon, all would see his magnificence acknowledged by the Sky God himself.

The Celestial Welcome

At last, they reached the gates of heaven, carved from clouds and decorated with rainbow light. The entrance was presided over by Osofo, the divine messenger, whose own feathers sparkled with stardust.

“Welcome, children of air and song,” Osofo called out in a voice like distant thunder. “The Sky God awaits you at his table. But know this—heaven has rules that all must follow. You must show proper respect for this sacred place and for each other.”

All the birds bowed low, their heads touching their wings in reverence. All except Vulture, who merely nodded slightly, as if greeting an equal.

Osofo noticed but said nothing. His ancient eyes held a glimmer that might have been sadness, or perhaps divine patience.

The feast hall of heaven stretched beyond imagination. Tables made of crystallized cloud held foods that sparkled with their own inner light. Rivers of honey flowed in channels carved from precious stones, and the air itself seemed to sing with harmonious melodies.

Nyame the Sky God sat upon a throne that appeared to be carved from a single star. His presence filled the hall with warmth and light, and when he smiled, it was like the dawn breaking over the world.

“My beloved birds,” his voice resonated through the celestial hall, “you honor me with your presence. Please, partake of this feast as equals, for in heaven, all creation shares the same table.”

The Moment of Revelation

As the feast began, something wonderful happened. Each time a bird tasted the celestial food, their own natural beauty was enhanced. The peacock’s tail became even more iridescent, the cardinal’s red deepened to ruby brightness, the canary’s yellow grew rich as molten gold.

Vulture, watching this transformation, felt a surge of excitement. If the divine food enhanced natural beauty, surely his magnificent head-feathers would become even more spectacular. He would become the most beautiful creature in all creation!

He approached the table with great ceremony, walking slowly so all could admire his plumage. But as he reached for the first morsel of heavenly food, Nyame’s voice stopped him.

“My son,” the Sky God said gently, “I see pride has taken root in your heart. You have forgotten the most important truth—that true beauty comes from humility, not from the magnificence of your outer covering.”

Vulture felt his chest swell with indignation. “Great Nyame, surely you can see that I am the most magnificent of all your birds. My head-feathers alone are worth more than the entire plumage of lesser creatures.”

A hush fell over the celestial hall. Even the rivers of honey seemed to pause in their flowing.

Nyame’s expression grew infinitely sad. “My child, you have missed the point of this gathering entirely. This feast was meant to celebrate the unity and equality of all my creatures. Instead, you have let vanity blind you to the beauty in others and the importance of humility.”

The Divine Lesson

The Sky God rose from his throne, and his radiance filled every corner of the hall. “Since you believe your head-feathers are so precious, let us see how precious they truly are.”

With a gesture so gentle it was like a breeze, Nyame touched Vulture’s head. Instantly, every single feather that had been his pride began to fall. One by one, they drifted down like dark snow, each one carrying away a piece of Vulture’s arrogance.

“Great Sky God!” Vulture cried out in horror. “My beautiful feathers! How can I show my face without them?”

“Now you understand,” Nyame replied with infinite compassion. “External beauty means nothing without the beauty of a humble heart. Your head shall remain bare as a reminder to all who see you that pride comes before a fall, and that true magnificence lies not in what adorns us, but in how we treat our fellow creatures.”

The other birds watched in stunned silence as Vulture’s magnificent crown disappeared completely, leaving his head as bare and wrinkled as we see it today.

The Journey Home

The feast continued, but Vulture could eat nothing. Shame burned in his throat more bitter than any hunger. He sat apart from the others, his bare head hidden under his wing, listening to the gentle conversations and shared laughter that he had thought himself too good to join.

When it came time to return to earth, Vulture flew at the back of the formation, no longer wanting to be seen. The flight that had begun with such pride ended in the deepest humility he had ever known.

His wife met him at their nest, and though she gasped at his appearance, her eyes held no reproach, only love. “My husband,” she said gently, “now you look as you truly are—not a creature of vanity, but one who can learn wisdom from his mistakes.”

The Lesson Lives On

From that day to this, all vultures have borne the mark of their ancestor’s pride. Their heads remain forever bare, a reminder that true beauty lies not in magnificent feathers or proud appearances, but in the humility to treat all creatures with respect and equality.

And though children sometimes laugh at the vulture’s bare head, the wise ones among us remember this story. We learn that when we think ourselves better than others, when pride puffs up our hearts like a bird fluffing its feathers, we would do well to remember the vulture who flew too high on wings of vanity.

So speaks the wisdom of our ancestors, children. Let this tale remind you always—the most beautiful adornment any of us can wear is a humble heart, for pride may lift us for a moment, but humility keeps us strong forever.

This is why, even today, when the vulture soars highest of all birds, his bare head catches the sun—not as a crown of magnificence, but as a reminder of wisdom learned, a lesson written in the very flesh, passed down through generations so that all may remember: true greatness comes not from what we wear upon our heads, but from what we carry in our hearts.