Why the Sun and Moon Live in the Sky

Long ago, before people looked up at the sky and saw the sun and the moon fixed forever in their places, Sun and Moon lived on the earth in a fine, spacious house built of mud brick and thatch, much like any other prosperous family's home. They were the best of friends with Water, who lived some distance away near the mouth of the great river, though the two friends had never actually visited each other's houses, since Water always claimed it was too difficult to travel so far from home.

One day, Sun said to Moon, 'It troubles me that Water has never once come to see our house, though we have visited every other friend we have. Let us invite Water properly, with a formal invitation, so that Water can no longer make excuses.'

Moon agreed, and together they sent a messenger, the swift dragonfly, to carry their invitation to Water. 'Come and see our new house,' the invitation said, 'and bring your family with you, as is only proper for such an important guest.'

Water received the invitation and sent back a reply through the dragonfly. 'I would be glad to visit,' Water said, 'but I must warn you, my family is very large, and I fear we may not all fit comfortably inside your house. Are you certain you wish for all of us to come?'

Sun and Moon, eager and a little proud of their fine new home, laughed at this warning. 'Our house is large and welcoming,' Sun replied. 'Surely there is room enough for our dear friend Water and whoever comes along.'

So on the appointed day, Water began to arrive. First came a small trickle, no wider than a stream, flowing gently in through the front door and settling on the floor of the house. Sun and Moon greeted this trickle warmly. 'Welcome, Water! Come in, come in!'

But behind the trickle came more water, and more, rising steadily around their ankles, and with the water came fish of every size, darting between the legs of the furniture, and then crabs scuttling sideways along the walls, and then eels sliding beneath the mats on the floor.

'Come in, come in,' Sun and Moon called again, a little less certainly now, as the water rose past their knees.

Still more of Water's family arrived — turtles paddling through the doorway, frogs leaping onto the windowsills, and then, with a great deal of splashing and commotion, several enormous crocodiles slid in through the widened doorway, their long snouts nudging aside the household pots and baskets. The water in the house had now risen to Sun and Moon's waists.

'Water, my friend,' Sun called out nervously over the rising din, 'perhaps this is enough of your family for one visit!'

But Water, from somewhere out in the yard, called back cheerfully, 'I did warn you, dear friends, that my family is very large. There is still my grandmother, the deep river, and my many cousins, the streams and lagoons, and my great-uncles, the crashing waves of the sea, all eager to greet you properly!'

And sure enough, more water came pouring through every window and doorway, rising and rising, until it reached Sun and Moon's shoulders, then their chins, filling the house from floor to roof beam with churning, living water, alive with fish and crocodiles and eels and the endless motion of the tide.

Sun and Moon, gasping and dripping, realized there was only one place left to go. They scrambled up onto the roof of their own house, but even there the water continued to rise beneath them, lapping hungrily at the thatch.

'We must go higher still!' cried Moon, and so the two friends leapt from the roof of their flooding house up into the open sky above, climbing higher and higher until they found themselves floating safely above all the rising water, farther from the ground than they had ever been in their lives.

From up in the sky, Sun and Moon looked down and saw their fine house completely submerged, water pouring from every window, Water's enormous family filling every room and spilling out across the yard and beyond, turning the whole valley into a great gleaming lake.

'We cannot go back down there now,' said Sun, looking at the flood below with a mixture of dismay and grudging admiration. 'Water's family is simply too large for any house that exists on earth.'

'Then we shall have to stay here,' said Moon, settling into the vast, comfortable darkness of the sky, 'where there is room enough for everyone, and no risk of flooding at all.'

And so Sun and Moon made their permanent home in the sky from that day onward, taking turns crossing the great open expanse above the earth, never again inviting a friend to visit without first asking exactly how large that friend's family truly was. And that is why, to this day, the Ga and Akan people say, the sun rules the daytime sky and the moon rules the night, both of them forever a comfortable, respectful distance from the boundless, ever-growing family of Water below.