The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind

Audio Transcript Auto-generated

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  Welcome back to Earth Month storytime.

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  This is the true story of a young boy who

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  saw the problems in his community in Malawi, Africa and

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  decided to do something to fix it, proving you don't

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  have to be wealthy or even be an adult to

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  solve big problems.

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  This is the story of the Boy Who Harnessed the

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  Wind, written by William Camp Wamba and Brian Miller, and

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  pictures by Elizabeth Zonin.

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  In a small village in Malawi where people had no

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  money for lights, nightfall came quickly and hurried poor farmers

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  to bed.

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  But for William, the darkness was best for dreaming.

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  He dreamed of building things and taking them apart, like

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  the trucks with bottle cap wheels parked under his bed

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  and pieces of radios that he had cracked open and

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  would wonder if I can hear the music.

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  And where is the band?

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  His grandpas, Tales of magic also whispered in the pitch

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  black of his room, which planes passed through the window

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  while ghost dancers twirled around the room as if 100

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  men were inside their bodies At dawn in the fields,

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  Williams scanned the maize rows for magical beings, then wondered

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  as trucks rumbled past.

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  How does this engine make it go?

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  Pay attention where you throw that ho, his father shouted.

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  You'll cut off your foot.

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  For all its power, over dancers and flying things, magic

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  could not bring the rain without water.

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  The sun rose angry each morning and scorched the fields,

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  turning the maze into dust.

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  Without food, Malawi began to starve.

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  Soon, William's father gathered the Children and said, From now

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  on, we eat only one meal per day.

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  Make it last.

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  In the evenings, they sat around the lantern and ate

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  their handful, watching hungry people pass like spirits along the

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  road. Money also disappeared with the rain.

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  Be penny, his father said.

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  I'm sorry.

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  You will have to drop out of school now.

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  Williams stood on the road and watch the lucky students

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  pass alone with the monster in his belly and the

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  lump in his throat.

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  For weeks, he sulked under the mango tree until he

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  remembered the library down the road, a gift from the

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  Americans, he found science books filled with brilliant pictures with

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  his English dictionary close by, William put together how engines

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  move those big trucks and how radios pulled their music

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  from the sky.

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  But the greatest picture of all was a machine taller

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  than the tallest tree with blades.

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  Like a fan, a giant pen will something to catch

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  magic. Slowly, he built the sentence.

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  Windmills can produce electricity and pump water.

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  He closed his eyes and saw a windmill outside his

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  home, pulling electricity from the breeze and bringing light to

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  the dark valley.

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  He saw the machine drawing cool water from the ground,

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  sending it gushing through thirsty fields, turning the maze tall

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  and green even when farmers prayers for rain went unanswered.

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  This windmill was more than a machine.

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  It was a weapon to fight hunger.

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  My cat, C and football, he whispered.

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  I will build electric wind in the junkyard.

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  Pieces appeared like rusted treasures in the tall grass, a

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  tractor fan, some pipe and bearings and bolts that required

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  every muscle to move.

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  Tonga. He shouted to the birds and spiders, holding up

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  his prize.

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  But as William dragged his medals home, people called out,

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  This boy is Messala.

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  Only crazy people play with trash.

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  After many weeks, William arranged his pieces in the dirt,

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  a broken bicycle, roasted bottle caps and plastic pipe.

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  Even a small generator that powered a headlight on a

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  bike. For three days.

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  He bolted, banged and tinkered while chickens squawked and dog

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  sparked and neighbors shook their heads, saying, What's measles are

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  doing now?

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  His cousin Jeffrey and his best friend, Gilbert, soon appeared.

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  You really want me?

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  They greeted.

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  Can we help with the electric wind?

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  Grab your pen doesn't follow me, he said, and he

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  took them to the forest.

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  Together. They swung their sharp blades into the trunks of

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  blue gum trees, then hammered them together to make a

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  tower. Standing atop, William shouted, Bring it up!

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  While the boys tugged and heaved.

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  A crowd gathered below and gazed at this strange machine

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  that now leaned and wobbled like a clumsy giraffe.

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  Some giggled, others tease, but William waited for the wind.

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  Like always.

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  It came first a breeze, Then a gusting Gail.

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  The tower suede and the blades spun round with sore

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  hands. Once slowed by hunger and darkness, William connected wires

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  to a small bulb, which flickered at first, then surged

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  as bright as the sun.

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  Tonga, he shouted.

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  I have made electric wind!

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  We cheetah!

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  Buena! A man yelled, Well done!

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  As the Doubters clapped and cheered.

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  William knew he had just begun.

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  Light could not fill empty bellies, but another windmill could

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  soak the dry ground, creating food where once there was

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  none McGee, etc.

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  Um peple.

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  Electric wind can feed my country, William Thought.

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  And that was the strongest magic of all the end.

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  Well, that's the end of the book.

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  But this was really just the beginning for William and

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  his family and neighbors when his family couldn't pay the

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  $80 a year for his school fees anymore and he

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  could no longer attend school.

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  He didn't let that stop him.

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  And so he taught himself how to generate wind energy.

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  Using cast off thrown away items.

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  William went on to college and then having books and

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  movies made about him.

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  What might you do to think of something simple yet

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  great to help your family and neighbors?

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  We'll see you next time.

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  Bye