Chapter 4: History Torn

I draw deep breath, just wan talk—

Suddenly, one foreign small pikin voice just cut me.

"I—I know this monkey!"

E talk am, people begin look.

At first, nobody send am.

Until the yellow hair, blue eye boy bring out one old book from him bag.

E raise am up, system project am for big screen.

The book na old African style, pages don nearly finish, e no complete again.

For the rough cover, you fit see one monkey, e dey loose horse.

Na the same monkey wey dey candidate list.

"Hehe, I find am for one store. This monkey get senior and junior brothers..."

The pikin dey talk with pride.

Naija people just dey vex.

One old man with white hair and glasses just stand, teeth dey grind:

"I no remember book name, but from the style, na old Benin wood carving be this. You dey spoil cultural treasure!"

One precious book wey show Naija glory don enter foreign hand—

Dem dey treat am like trash, throw am anyhow.

How person chest no go pain?

But the things dem thief from Naija pass this one.

Over hundred years ago—

If dem no thief our things, we no go forget our gods.

We no go dey near extinction today.

Old man vex, but the pikin parent just dey mock:

"You Naija no fit keep una ancestors things."

"Na we go dey remind una about una own myth. Who suppose shame?"

Old woman for back dey cry, "Chei! See as dem dey disgrace us for public!"

"Oya, pikin, tell these Naija people—wetin be this monkey name?"

The boy talk with funny accent, "Book say this monkey name... Bi something, eh, Bi Ma Wen."

Other country people still confuse, dey ask wetin Bi Ma Wen mean.

But some Naija people know, shame just dey their ear.

"Bi Ma Wen—na ordinary stable worker for Naija gods, na bottom job."

Sakura people, wey get East Asian culture too, just expose am for open.

Arena scatter with laughter.

Dem dey talk say if Bi Ma Wen try show, Yamata no Orochi go do monkey brain show for everybody.

One Naija pikin vex, stand, face red, reply:

"No be only him get brother? Bring dem out, dem go beat your gods scatter!"

Foreign boy laugh again.

E tear one page from the old book, raise am. Na so dem dey tear our history, piece by piece, carry am go museum for obodo oyibo.

E show one black pig wey dey carry rake.

"That monkey brother na black pig!"

Arena laughter just loud more.

Somebody dey shout, "Why all Naija gods be animal—monkey, black pig? Una myth na zoo?"

As people hear am, Naija face just pale.

National pride don finish.

As shame dey, millions of Naija people just dey boil.

Some dey shout, swear to fight die.

Some dey curse me, say I be traitor, curse my ancestors join.

Even old people dey cover face, dey cry, dey kneel for sky.

Naija gods, where una dey?

For all the noise, system just ask me again, "Who be am?"

If I no answer, nothing go happen.

But now, I no be the focus again—

Drama dey happen for stand:

Mock, shame, fight, anger... just small push remain make everybody scatter.

I ignore them, talk with clear voice:

"Him name na Ogbo!"

My voice loud, system carry am everywhere, all ear hear am.

But nobody send me.

Blood dey rush, I talk more:

"He na Ogbo the Trickster, the one wey dey wear golden ring for head."

"He na Handsome Monkey King from Palm Grove Hill."

"He na ancestor of ten thousand spirits, boneless relic."

"He na disciple of Elder Baba."

"He na Fighting Spirit for Western Realm."

"He na Great Sage Equal to Heaven, wey scatter Celestial Palace..."

...

My voice dey loud, like big bell for sky.

As I finish—

White rainbow just flash for cloud, thunder blast for clear sky, all the world electronics just off for one second.

Six billion people look up, fear catch dem.

That moment, everybody just realise something.

"E fit be—Naija god don show?"

"No, na sign from olden days. For Naija old stories, e dey happen only when big thing wan happen."

"Just to call him name, everywhere change. This monkey na real power?"

"Old John, we don offend something we no suppose touch..."

World just quiet, time freeze.

After small time, everybody look me again—

Because I never finish.

I calm myself, small smile just dey my mouth.

I talk with passion, "We Naija people dey call am—Monkey Brother."

This talk, for Naija ear—

Na thunder for sky.

Plenty heart just dey shake, e dey move everybody.

Some people even dey cry, dem no know why.

Dem just feel say the name ‘Monkey Brother’ too sweet, too familiar, too normal.

Like say everybody don call am like that since.

Some people begin remember, their eye dey shine, dey dull.

I quiet, but voice dey ring for everywhere:

"Baba Elder dey call am Naughty Monkey."

"Chief Zainab dey call am good brother."

"Priest Tunde na him master."

"Sky King dey scold am Monkey Head."

"Piggy dey call am Senior Brother."

"Prophet dey call am Demon Monkey."

...

All of us just get goosebumps.

Story, both strange and familiar, dey rush our mind.

"I want sky never block my eye again; I want ground never bury my heart."

"From the start of time, no surname. To break ignorance, you must become Ogbo."

"If I become Prophet, no demon go remain. If I become demon, wetin Prophet fit do me?"

"If sky press me, I go break sky; if ground block me, I go scatter ground..."

Thousands of voice join, like say na angel choir.

For darkness, something dey move, wan break free.

No be only me—now, all of us dey hail Great Sage name.

System ask again: "Abeg, talk him story."