High in the Haraz Mountains of Yemen, where stone villages cling to steep slopes and terraced fields rise like steps toward the sky, there lived a young man in the town of Manakha. He was known among his neighbors for his dreams rather than his deeds. While others worked the land from dawn until the call to prayer echoed across the valleys, he sat in the shade, gazing upward, imagining a life far greater than the one he believed had been given to him.
From childhood, his eyes were drawn to the sun. Each morning it climbed over the ridges, flooding the terraces with light, and each evening it disappeared behind the mountains as if retreating to a hidden kingdom. The young man became convinced that the sun held power beyond human reach. If he could only touch it, he believed, its strength and glory would become his. In his thoughts, the heat of the sun promised greatness without labor, authority without patience.
One evening, as he sat alone above the fields, a stranger appeared beside him. The man’s presence was sudden, yet silent, and his eyes gleamed with knowing amusement. He spoke softly, as if continuing a conversation already begun.
“You dream of the sun,” the stranger said. “I can help you reach it.”
The young man felt no fear, only excitement. He understood at once that this was no ordinary traveler but a jinni, one of the unseen beings known to wander the mountains and valleys. The jinni promised to build a ladder that would reach from the earth to the sky itself. It would be made of qat branches, green and flexible, bound together by the strength of ambition alone.
“There is only one condition,” the jinni warned. “As you climb, you must never look down at your home. The ladder will hold only as long as your desire points upward.”
Without hesitation, the young man agreed.
At dawn, the ladder appeared, rising from the rocky ground and disappearing into the bright blue sky. The young man began his climb. Below him, Manakha grew smaller with each step. Days passed as he ascended. The air thinned, and the heat of the sun pressed closer, burning his skin and stealing his breath. Yet his determination drove him onward.
As he climbed, the world below faded into silence. Then, carried on the wind, a familiar sound rose from the valley. It was the call to prayer, the أذان, echoing from the village mosque. The voice was distant but clear, flowing across the terraces and stone houses as it had every day of his life.
His heart tightened. Without thinking, he paused.
The sound awakened memories he had long ignored. He pictured his mother’s small house, its worn stones warmed by countless mornings. He saw the terraces where he had once played as a child and the fields where his family labored season after season. Love and longing rushed through him, stronger than ambition had ever been.
He looked down.
In that instant, the qat ladder trembled. The green branches dried and crumbled, stripped of the force that had held them together. The ladder collapsed, and the young man fell, the sky spinning above him.
Before fear could claim him, powerful wings swept beneath his body. A giant eagle, vast and steady, caught him in its talons and slowed his fall. The bird spoke with a voice as deep as the mountains.
“You looked back with love, not regret,” the eagle said. “That saves you.”
The eagle carried him gently down and set him upon the soil of his own field. The sun still burned overhead, distant and untouchable. The young man lay on the earth, shaken but alive.
As he rose, he understood what his journey had revealed. The power he had chased in the sky had nearly destroyed him. The warmth that truly sustained him came from the land beneath his feet, from the people and place that had shaped him. He spoke quietly, as if to himself and the mountains alike.
“The power you seek far away often melts in the heat of forgetting where you come from.”
From that day on, the young man no longer gazed at the sun with hunger. He worked his fields, answered the call to prayer, and carried his ambition with humility, rooted firmly in the soil of home.
Moral Lesson
This Yemeni folktale teaches that unchecked ambition can lead one away from what truly sustains life. Remembering one’s roots, family, and community provides a strength greater than distant power or glory.
Knowledge Check
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Who is the main character in The Ladder to the Sun?
He is a young man from Manakha who dreams of gaining power by reaching the sun. -
What does the ladder made of qat branches symbolize?
It represents ambition sustained only by desire, without grounding or balance. -
Why was the young man told not to look down?
Looking down would reconnect him to home, breaking the ambition that held the ladder together. -
What role does the call to prayer play in the story?
It reminds the young man of his roots, faith, and community, awakening love and longing. -
Why does the eagle save the young man?
The eagle recognizes that he looked back with love rather than regret, showing wisdom and humility. -
What lesson does this Yemeni folktale convey?
True strength comes from honoring one’s origins rather than abandoning them for distant power.
Source: Adapted from the Yemeni folktale “The Ladder to the Sun,” Haraz Mountains, cited in the doctoral thesis Folklore of the Yemeni Highlands, available on Academia.edu.
