The Tale of AGBALUJALA

I will be telling you a story tonight. A story my father told me, and his father told him. It is a story about a monster, a demon-man that walked on this earth many years ago. It is the story of Agbalujala. So sit back, relax and enjoy as I take you down memory lane, to a village far, far away, where this monster lived. 

I heard of a man, a long time ago; a man with fish hands and snake eyes. They said he lived in the same village my great grand parents lived in. Nobody ever says where this man came from or how he got to the village, so I can’t tell you that. But all they talk about are his fish hands and snake eyes. I will tell you this tale as it was told to me. You see, his hands were so scaly that tiny things could get trapped between the scales, and his eyes, like the colour of wet grass and the size of a dangerous black python (sounds of snake hisses and water), was like the eyes of the gods! His eyes would pierce through the dark forests as he took his nightly, mighty stroll. It almost seemed as if the forest was echoing around him, welcoming a long lost friend.

                It is said that during his strolls, he would turn into a snake or a fish if he was by the river, and he would feed on what snakes feed on and eat whatever it is that fishes eat. A few women in the village witnessed his transformations and that’s how they know! They were terrified!

They said: “as we were on our way to the stream, we saw him standing at the bank of the river, wriggling his body like a snake!”

“yes! It is true oh! He was moving his arms up and down and before we knew it, right in front of our eyes, he transformed into a green monster! a sea-creature!”

Hmmm. Imagine that!

Even the villagers that refused to believe these women still could not explain his pattern of behaviour. First of all, nobody ever saw him work; he never sold fish even though he was always by the river, so he was not a fisherman; he never hunted with the other hunters, never tapped palm wine, but he always bought things at the market. Where did he get his money? He would stop at the village market once a week on market days, early in the morning as the very first market women to arrive shed their goods, before anyone else was up. He would buy a lot of things, some things normal, like soap and fire wood, but others, just random, like raw spices, oil, green leaves, local herbs and sometimes dried cassava grains. Yes, a man can live on these things, but not a real man! Isn’t that so? Real men don’t just eat leaves! Do they?

“(laughter). Leaves for what? a man says. To clean my mouth after my meal, maybe”

“ah! I am a man! A warrior for that matter! When I want to eat, I eat pounded yam, goat meat, cow hide and stock fish in the same meal! What is this spices and garri nonsense?”

 No. This was not a real man. In fact, the real men of the village, those that eat well and do what real men do had had enough of him! After all, they had defeated a monster before! Once, a tiger had made this same village its home and its people its food! For months, the villagers had lived in terror of this monster. It raided huts both during the day and at night. Nobody could step out of their huts to fish or farm.

“this woman stay here! Where do you want to go that is more important than staying alive?”

“I have to go and get water for our daughter. I cannot just watch her cry and do nothing!”

“it is better for her to cry and have her mother alive until the warriors defeat that animal than for her to be motherless! Will her cries stop then?”

“I have decided already. I am going. I”ll be back soon. You’ll thank me then”

She Never returned but was killed by the Tiger!!!

Ah! People starved. The cries of the little ones rang through the village like music from the under world. Until they killed it. Ah! That glorious day of jubilation when the strongest warrior in the village majestically stood at the village square, the tiger’s head sitting on his stick, dead eyes wide open! Ha! How they danced! How they danced!

How did they kill it? Hmmm. That’s a story for another day.

So, filled with courage from this historic victory, the warriors of the village got up! They called a meeting!

They decided to confront this man-like monster that was terrorizing their women and children. They had done it before and they would do it again! At his moment of weakness, when he was just about to transform by the river, they would capture him; they would find out why he was in their village and what he wanted from them. But they would not go foolishly without expecting him to attack. The strongest man in the village would lead the pack, (warrior comes on stage), the same warrior that had defeated the tiger before! They picked up their machetes and cutlasses. Enough was enough! This was war!

So they marched, that fateful night, they marched to victory. They sang their war songs at the top of their voices and beat their chests while their wives, mothers and sisters cheered them on as they headed towards the forest (increased momentum of war song and singing; drums). They marched. They sang. They beat. They Marched. They Sang. They Beat. Marched. Sang. Beat. Marched. Sang. Beat. 

WHOOSH!!! Water! Everywhere!!! The beast arose from under the water flanked by other viscous sea creatures. They were going to attack! Scattered feet everywhere! The men took off! They ran so fast that they left a screen of dust as high as the tallest tree in their wake! None of them looked back. None of them dared. 

 The women shook their heads in shame but the warriors did not care. They were alive.

That was the last time anyone tried to confront the man-like monster. What he was, they did not know, where he was from, nobody dared ask, why he was in this village of all places, the king would not say, then add his looks to the list too!!! Ah… this was no ordinary man. They called him… they called him… they called him… AGBALUJALA…

                

After that night, nobody walked past his house for fear of what he might do. They only ever heard him come out for his nightly walk. And if at that time he raised his fish hands to wave at any unlucky passer-by, it was advised to quickly duck and avert your eyes. Who knows if his powers were stronger just before he transformed? Into the monster that he really was and not this… this … monster-like man shape that he deceived us with. We knew better, he was no ordinary man. 

                When the people of my village tell this story, it is to remind us that we are not alone in this world. That there are beings unlike us in this world, and if they are unlike us, they must be dangerous; if they are unlike us, they must be mysterious; if they are unlike us, they must be against us. Therefore, always stick with what you know and who you recognize. That’s what my father told me, and that’s what his father told him. This has been a guiding principle for me all through my life, and I have turned out ok, at least in my opinion. I have a family, no crushing debts to pay, no unlawful charges against me and a few friends I can call true. Occasionally, I enjoy a good book. It relaxes me.

                In fact, it was on one of my usual book hunts in a library not far from here, a few years ago, that I stumbled on a story about a young researcher who had found a certain breed of water creatures thought to be extinct, in the waters surrounding my village.

“Sir, I believe they are there. All the evidence supports my theory. Let me go myself. If I’m wrong, I’ll take full responsibility. It won’t come back to you in any way. But if I’m right! Just imagine sir! You will be the talk of the next dozen centuries! Maybe more!”

“(Sighs) Alright. You can go. But if this turns out to be a hoax, I’ll have your head, and you know I mean it”.

I was intrigued! No one ever mentioned anything to me about this!!! Extinct water creatures. Who would have known? So I read on. This young man moved to the village he deemed close enough to the creatures, my village, and lived there until his research was complete. Amazing! This could be life changing for me and the people of my village! If there really was this extinct creature that a researcher had found in my village, we would be rich! People will come from all over the world just to see these things and they will pay big bucks too! Finally! Wealth had come.

                I was excited as I read on to get my answer. According to him, these creatures only emerged at night and towards dawn. So he would put on his night goggles that glowed green and wear his diving suit under his clothes. However, his sleeves would stop at his wrists, revealing his diving-gloves and he always had them on! He would then head out into the forest that led to the water every night. At the water, he would undress, put on the rest of his diving suit, dive into the river and study the creatures.

It was at this point that I started to remember the tale of Agbalujala. I could not believe it. Fish hands, monster-green eyes, sea creature, came out only at night… I did not want to believe it. Impossible. But the description of this researcher, his story, the time in history…I could not believe it. If I did, one big principle that I had up to that moment, built my life on, would be false. Everything I knew to be true about life, about living, about identities, passion, dreams, people, relationships, seemed to shift before my very eyes. No! It was not him. If it was him, if Agbalujala was this…man…then who was I? who am I?

                His name was Andrew Bacht Ajala. He was a marine biologist. He had been funded by a body that cared for animals facing extinction so he had no need for money or work. He was a vegetarian. No need for meat. He studied the creatures every night as they only came out at that time, and he always went in full diver’s gear. He had an accent, so every time he tried to introduce himself, his name came out sounding like…

“Andrew Bacht Ajala”

“(Whispering someone said to the other) he spoke! Did you hear him! What did he say?”

“I wasn’t standing close enough so I didn’t hear. If you want to hear, go closer”

“Do you want me to die? Can’t you see his hands and feet? Do you know what will happen if he touches me?”

“No oh! What will happen?”

“Well, I don’t know and I don’t want to find out!”

“I’m Andrew Bacht Ajala”

“He said it again!”

“ehn?”

“He said it again. He said Agbalujala”

“Agbalujala”.

“Yes. Agbalujala”

‘What kind of name is that?”

“I told you he is not normal. Please let’s go. He is coming closer. Hurry!”

 I felt my throat tighten and my pulse race faster and faster as it seemed I had unravelled the mystery of my people. The mystery of the being that walked amongst my ancestors. It could not be…. Could it? At the end of the story, there was an insert. It was the image of a man, a man just like you and me.

                Sometimes, I wonder how Andrew must have felt, living amongst a people that saw him as a monster, people that turned away when he walked past or ducked when he tried to wave…being misunderstood like that. I will never know what it was like for Andrew Bacht Ajala, but I know what it is for me now. I know my life will never be the same again.