Of Myths & gods
Of Myths & Gods
By Amanda Ilozumba Otitobunkechukwu
The night is dark; there is naught a sound to be heard except the occasional crackling noise from the burning fire. You sit far away from the flames so as not to feel its scorching heat, the fire lights up your eyes and reveals your wariness, it knows you fear it so it burns brighter, reveling in that fear. You need not fear the fire. Come closer dear reader; you must trust me, for I want to tell you a story.
A story of myths and gods.
In a far far away land during a time when humans were one with the earth, we bathed in the flowing streams and slept under the starry night skies. Our flesh was the color of obsidian; black and resplendent, our hair grew towards the sun in a mass of untamable curls. We worshipped the ones who created us, the old gods. We offered them dry spirits by morning and sacrifices of boiled yam bathed in rich red oil by night. In return, the gods blessed us with bountiful harvests and successful hunts.
With time as human nature demands, we grew lazy and became greedy. We wanted power and lusted for one another. Worst of all, we grew proud and began to believe that we were better than the old gods. We stopped offering sacrifices, stopped worshipping, and soon enough we forgot about the gods. Our belief in them waned and the old gods grew weaker, for they drew their powers from our servitude.
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The gods sent down a messenger from the heavens, by the name of Nri. He spoke to us, but we laughed and hurled insults at him. We ridiculed the old gods while we drank palm wine from the trees they provided, we made a mockery of them while we ate food from the bountiful harvests they gifted us. And so the old gods grew angry and turned against us humans.
They regretted creating humans, one by one, they reclaimed all they had gifted us and left us with nothing but our nakedness. We were plunged into eternal darkness. There was no good food to eat so we fed on leaves from barren trees and withered grass. We drank water from murky streams ripe with stench and made fires from nothing but twigs to keep warm. But that was not the worst of our punishment.
Oh, no it was not.
Without the sun, we lost our melanin. Our once beautiful, dark skin turned the color of milk. White, pale, and ghost-like. We wandered the earth like wraiths wailing and pleading with the gods, we rolled on the muddy earth and tore our hair from our scalps, pleading and pleading until the old gods took pity on our pathetic state. We were their creation, after all. They made us a promise.
“Journey through the forest of the deadly sins
Find the calabash that contains the sun
If this is done
Then the light would return.”
There was one problem with this promise. In order to recapture the sun, one would have to pass seven tests of virtue in the forest of deadly sins. Since humans had grown proud, lazy, greedy, envious, lustful, angry, and gluttonous, it was nearly impossible for any one of us to pass the test.
For years, we sent our bravest and purest of hearts into the forest but none returned. We lost all hope and had resigned to our fate.
This is where the hero of our story comes in.
A child was born. His cries were so deafening, for he was the first child to have cried in a long time. His birth drew the attention of the people. When we saw him, we danced, and rejoiced, for his skin was the color of smooth ebony. The land was again filled with merriment, our hope was renewed. We named the boy child Anyanwu-anyi meaning “our light.”
Alas, hope is a fickle thing and just like trust, it is often placed in the wrong people. It did not take long for humans to see that Anyanwu was not the chosen one to make it through the forest; he would never bring us the sun. He possessed the haughtiest of eyes and a tongue swift to lie. His heart devised wicked plans while his feet made haste to run to evil, he often desired that which did not belong to him and made effort only to thieve the belongings of others, never working for his keep. He sowed seeds of discord wherever he went; his fists were controlled by his frequent wrath.
Even a blind man could see that he was of no use to us. In fact, he must have been sent by the old gods to scorn us, to torment and remind humans that we would never see the light again.
When Anyanwu had seen just seventeen moons, he was banished. We had grown tired of his antics. He was a constant reminder of our plight so we sent him away with nothing but a knife and a gourd of fouled water.
Anyanwu was furious, he swore and stomped his feet, he cursed and he cursed until he had no more curses left in him then he said, “I will journey through the forest of the deadly sins and bring back the sun. Then you will all worship me.”
Our laughter followed close behind him as he entered the deadly forest.
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THE LAND OF PRIDE
For days, Anyanwu stumbled through the ancient forest. Ominous looking trees with bare branches spiked high into the sky. Its eerie silence was so penetrating that it threatened to suffocate him. It was so dark that Anyanwu was barely able to see where he was going. A forest devoid of life. Despite the fact that there was no sign of life, the forest of deadly sins seemed alive with little hidden secrets that only it knew.
Like a fool, Anyanwu had not thought to manage the water so his throat was dry and parched, his breathing shallow, and his vision was becoming blurry by the minute. Anyanwu decided to rest, he leaned against a tree and closed his eyes.
Just for a moment, he assured himself, then I will continue my journey. Oh how they would regret when I am victorious. Just then, an arrow whooshed past his head, pulling him out of his reverie. He whipped out his knife while his eyes darted to the area that he suspected the arrow had come from. “Who goes there!” he yelled, “show yourself only a coward hides behind a weapon.”
Despite his bravado, Anyanwu was afraid and fear clouded his mind so he had no chance of evading the next arrow. It struck him squarely in his thigh. Anyanwu groaned as he buckled and collapsed to the ground.
The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was a horse with the torso of a human.
When Anyanwu regained consciousness, he found himself in a recovery room, his wound had been cleaned and wrapped with banana leaves. He touched it and was surprised to find that the wound did not hurt. In fact, he felt healed. He got up, limped to the door, and pushed it open.
Bright light struck his eyes and Anyanwu instinctively shielded them as he fell to the ground screaming in pain, “What is this, what is this strange evil!”
He felt a kick in his side followed by a voice that said, “rise human, it is the day that hurts your eyes, open your eyes and take in the splendor of the land.”
Anyanwu slowly removed his hand from his eyes, was this how his land would look like when he brought the sun? Anyanwu was mesmerized. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the brightness of the day Anyanwu realized that the half horse-half men people surrounded him. He took in the majestic land of the horse people but it was not as majestic as they were. Colorful beads adorned their lower halves while their upper bodies were covered with stylish ankara.
“What sort of creatures are you?” Anyanwu asked.
The crowd parted to make way for their king who sauntered regally to the front of the clearing, the king answered Anyanwu’s question, “we are horse-men and this is the land of Pride. If you seek to pass through my kingdom, I will offer you what I offered the men and women before you.”
The king stretched out his right hand, the jewelry adorning his fingers glinted in the sunlight, “you must kneel before my people and me and kiss my hand.” However, the king knew that this would never happen, he had looked into Anyanwu’s heart and saw his pride so it did not come as a surprise to him when Anyanwu spat on his outstretched hand.
Anyanwu was taken to their latrine where he was whipped everyday and forced to haul feces.
On the fifth day, Anyanwu requested an audience with the horseman king. He was cleaned up and taken to the great hall where the king and his subjects awaited him.
Upon seeing the king, Anyanwu dropped to his knees and said, “I vowed to my people that I would bring back the sun. I vowed to make them regret their decision to banish me and that is what I must do. Therefore, I will kneel for I have discovered that I must put away my pride… for now”
The horseman king was amazed, the other humans before Anyanwu had kneeled before him but it was just so they could be granted safe passage through his land. He knew this because he had sensed the pride that remained in their hearts, yet the one who kneeled before him made no effort to do such a thing. Anyanwu had learned humility but was not yet rid of his pride. A strange thing.
The king frowned as he cleared his throat, his baritone voice rang clear and true, “Your motivation is fuelled by pride yet you kneel before me. I do not know what to make of you human, you may leave.”
THE LAND OF WRATH
The land of wrath was a wasteland. It was filled with flying debris, the ground was riddled with volcanic mounds that erupted without warning. This was the land of the bear people, half-human half bear. This group despised humans and it was here that many of the humans who came before Anyanwu had perished. Upon entering their land, Anyanwu discovered immediately that the bear people were full of rage; they fought at the slightest confrontation and killed each other without remorse.
Anyanwu demanded an audience with their king but the bear people laughed at his request. They dragged Anyanwu to an arena where they fitted him with armor and a sword and told him, “If you wish to see our king, you must fight.”
Anyanwu’s opponent was a huge bear-man that bore many scars, the bear-man wasted no time in drawing his sword. Anyanwu danced around the bear-man, his strategy was to block the blows of his opponent until his strength waned and then he would attack. This strategy backfired on him. The bear-man only seemed to grow in strength with each blow he dealt. As he hurled painful and degrading insults that made the Anyanwu see red, anger clouded the boy’s judgment and concentration.
The bear-man called Anyanwu a weakling, which was the last straw. Anyanwu bellowed and attacked but the bear-man easily deflected his blow, his sword flashed as he raised it high above his furry head to deal the final blow that would kill Anyanwu.
Anyanwu nimbly jumped out of the way and crossed his arms signalling a sign of peace, “I yield.” The bear-man spat at him and the bear people who watched the fight booed. They called him a coward and tossed him out of the arena.
Anyanwu solicited to see the king again but the bear people told him, “then you will fight again.”
They left him at the entrance to the battlefield; where a fight was taking place. Anyanwu watched the duel. It was between his former opponent and another bear-man. Again, he hurled insults at his new opponent who reacted to the slurs by lashing out in any direction he could.
His rage made him sloppy as well as careless, just like I had been, Anyanwu realized. An angry person was an easily controlled person; with the right words, you could disarm him. It was not long before the angry bear-man was defeated. Cheers rang in the arena as the bear people chanted the victors’ name. He beat his chest three times and roared and the cheers became louder.
A strong paw gripped Anyanwu’s arm, “Your turn,” the bear-man grunted before he pushed Anyanwu into the arena to face the victor.
The bear-man laughed when he saw Anyanwu, “The flesh thing has come to play again.”
They danced once more, clashing swords and exchanging insults sharper than any blade. Anyanwu did not let his anger distract him this time, instead, he let it fuel the strength of his attacks, and the duel went on for hours until the bear-man showed his first sign of weakness. With one strong thrust, Anyanwu pushed his sword into the heart of his opponent, the bear-man fell. As Anyanwu threw down his sword, he beat his chest three times just as his dead opponent had done, and he roared, “Take me to your king!”
The king was a bear-man of little patience, “What does the filthy flesh-thing want?”
Anyanwu dampened the anger that surged through him in reaction to the insult; he took a few moments to collect his thoughts before he said anything. He now understood why his people hated him. While they were not without their own flaws, his were worse. He was just like the bear people, swift to anger and violence. At that moment he made up his mind to express his anger better in the future.
“Bear people, I now see that I must control my anger before it controls me and that is a lesson you all must learn too. I offer my sincere gratitude for having been able to learn this in your land.” Anyanwu finished his speech with a bow.
The hall was silent for a moment then the silence was broken by the clap of the bear king. He rose from his throne and lumbered over to Anyanwu, “You have seen the error of your ways, anger is good but destructive when not controlled. You have passed the test. I grant you safe passage through my lands.”
THE LAND OF SLOTH, ENVY AND LUST
Anyanwu was now aware of his many flaws and he was frightened by them. It was with this fear that he approached the land of sloth, envy and lust occupied by fairies.
The fairies lived in grand castles; they had a natural sunny glow and yellow coily hair the hue of butter. Their wings were shimmery and sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow.
Upon his arrival, the fairies threw a huge party for Anyanwu, they sang and danced for him, plied him with juicy berries and sugary wine that sent him into a heady stupor. Anyanwu soon forgot about his quest and settled in comfortably with the fairies in the land of sloth, envy and lust.
He partied day and night without a care, there was overflowing food and wine so Anwanyu did not need to lift a finger except to stuff his belly full. He hopped and skipped with the beautiful fairy women that flocked around him while the men envied him. Anyanwu was having the time of his life.
Occasionally he would remember the calabash containing the sun but then a fairy woman would smile ever so sweetly at him and he would brush the memory away and return to his merriment.
On the eighth day, Anyanwu happened upon another human who was so pale and gaunt, the slightest breeze could have blown him away. Anyanwu approached the man and asked, “Who are you and why are you here?” Anyanwu was jealous to see another human receiving attention from the fairy women. He intended to send the man away.
“My name is Odinaka and I am on a journey to find the sun and return light to my people.” His reply shocked Anyanwu out of his drunken state. He gazed down at his hands to see that his flesh had withered and was beginning to resemble that of Odinaka. He backed away from the man slowly at first before his legs began to pick up pace until he was running.
The fairies watched him run away, the fairy women were sad to see their human plaything go but the men were happy because it meant their women would return to them. The fairies resumed their jollity and before long, they forgot about Anyanwu.
THE LAND OF COVETOUSNESS AND GLUTTONY
The dwarves governed the land of covetousness and gluttony. They were greedy little things that dwelled in the mountains and mined underground tunnels and caves for gold and precious stones. Their land had piles of gold scattered throughout, and their miniature bodies were covered head to toe in glittering jewelry. Yet, they craved more.
Compared to the other lands where Anyanwu had had to ask to see their king, the dwarves welcomed him as if he was a long expected visitor. They put him in a carriage made of gold and pulled by magnificent horses.
The dwarves took him to the throne hall where their king presided. The king sat upon a throne fashioned out of a single bar of gold, and on his large head he wore a great golden crown. In one hand, he held a diamond staff and in the other a silver sword. On either side of him stood dwarves arranged according to size, from the tallest of dwarves to the tiniest, about the size of Anyanwu’s thumb.
Anyanwu begged the king for passage through his lands so he could find the calabash that contained the sun.
However, the dwarf king said, “Why look for a stupid sun when you can live here with us, you wish to return the light to your people who banished you, ha! I will fill your pockets with gold and your house with gemstones. Food and wine would be overflowing, you will never have to lift a hand, never have to want for anything. All that you desire is here.” The dwarf king exclaimed as he spread his hands across the expanse of the hall.
To this, Anyanwu replied, “In the land of sloth, envy and lust, I came across another human who had embarked on this same quest. He had the most beautiful women feeding him, he did not need to do any work. He seemed to be living the life I always wanted but he was losing his soul. My journey here has shown me that as a human, I am full of flaws but my flaws do not define me unless I let them. I know now what I must do; it does not matter if I get the sun. I return to my people and show them the error of their ways, to teach them seven virtues in place of the deadly sins. I will show them that where there is kindness and love, hard work and humility, and then there will be light. The boy I was before would have wasted no time in accepting the riches you offer, but I must refuse. My people need me, I cannot live here in splendor while they suffer, I cannot taste your sumptuous meals while they feed on grass and leaves.”
“You are no boy, little flesh thing.” The dwarf king praised, “A boy would never have passed the seven tests; a boy would not have understood what the old gods have been trying to teach you humans for years. You are a man, Anyanwu.” With this, the throne hall changed into the heavens and the dwarf king transformed into Chukwu, the supreme beings, the God of gods.
Chukwu beckoned Anyanwu to follow him, he took Anyanwu into a chamber where he washed him in heavenly water to cleanse him of his old self, and then Chukwu carved lines from the centre of Anyanwu’s forehead down to the centre of his chin, then from his right cheek to the left. The lines met at the centre of his nose forming a perfect cross.
Chukwu drew another line from the left side of Anyanwu’s forehead down to the right side of his chin. When Chukwu finished, the pattern looked like the rays of sun. Sixteen straight lines and eight crosses that mirrored the rays of the sun.
Chukwu stepped back and admired his work, he then placed a golden crown on Anyanwu’s head. It was the crown of virtues. Chukwu declared, “You are now Anyanwu. The sun god, god of wisdom and foresight.”
HOME
When Anyanwu returned to us, we did not recognize him. Had it not been for his ebony skin we would have never believed it was him. Apart from the scarification on his face, Anyanwu physically appeared the same as when we had banished him but upon closer examination, one could see the ethereal glow of his skin. Chukwu, an immortal, had bathed Anyanwu so he was no longer one of the earth.
One by one, we fell in line behind him, following him in awe. Anyanwu stood in the middle of our land, there he opened the calabash, “Behold!” Golden light spilled out of the calabash into the dark sky. It was bright and hot. It had been long since our eyes had seen light so we turned away, shielding our eyes. Where the light touched, the darkness dispelled.
For the first time in years, the sun, the daughter of the sky, took her place on the horizon and let her rays cascade onto the world. Where her rays touched, flowers blossomed and trees grew. Dry land turned to streams of clear flowing water and the animals that had long abandoned us emerged from the forest of deadly sins. With them came the horsemen and the bear people, the fairies and the dwarves. They joined us to stand behind Anyanwu.
Together, we bowed down on our knees before him and proclaimed, “Long live Anyanwu, the sun god, the one who brought the light!”
