ACT 1: ORIGIN
ACT I: ORIGINS
Setting: Obanliku, pre-colonial era. Ancestral hills surround the stage—layers of rocks, forest foliage, and a symbolic ancestral tree at center stage. Hanging calabashes, ancestral masks, and woven mats mark the sacred space. Traditional music plays in the background—flute and ekpe drum rhythm.
Scene 1: The Mountain Remembers
Lights dim. Fog rolls in. A low hum vibrates as SPIRIT ENSEMBLE circles slowly. Elder NKUM stands beneath the sacred tree, illuminated in soft gold. He taps his carved staff on the ground rhythmically. The sound echoes.
ELDER NKUM
(intoning)
Ebɔ́ Obanliku, ọnyi etɛ…
Obanliku remembers.
This land, this mountain… it is not silent.
It speaks in wind and rain.
It sings in footsteps of those who came before.
It grieves when we forget.
Tonight, the calabash opens.
The mountain will speak.
(He raises his staff. The SPIRIT ENSEMBLE begins to chant softly.)
SPIRIT CHORUS
Obanliku... Obanliku...
Where stories live in stones...
Where yam is life, and life is rhythm.
Lights transition. Festival sounds slowly rise.
Scene 2: Festival of the First Yam
The village square is alive. Villagers wear bright woven attire with raffia accents. Children dance, women carry decorated calabashes, and young men beat talking drums in sync with rattles and flutes.
BEBI (laughing as he dances)
Let the gods smell the yam today!
If you don’t dance, your harvest will sleep in the ground!
CHILD 1 (mocking him)
Then your yam must be snoring, Bebi!
(Laughter. Drums intensify. Mma YEFON emerges with a ceremonial wrapper and begins a slow, spiritual dance.)
MMA YEFON
(singing softly)
Eke lo yɔm…
Where the yam breathes,
There, the ancestors eat.
(She kneels and places the first yam in a sacred basket before the tree.)
MMA YEFON (cont’d)
To Etigidi, spirit of rain…
To Enyi-Ebe, keeper of the mountain wind…
To our ancestors who walk with us unseen…
Eat with us.
VILLAGERS (in unison)
Eat with us!
CHIEF UGBE (stepping forward)
This is Obanliku.
Where our sweat becomes yam,
Our yam becomes festival,
And our festival becomes a promise:
We do not forget.
Scene 3: Smoke on the Horizon
Suddenly, the drums fade. A cloud of dust enters as a lone figure—MESSENGER OKIM—arrives, barefoot, with a leather bag and a foreign Bible tucked in it.
MESSENGER OKIM
(panting)
They are coming.
Men in boots. With guns… with crosses.
They speak of light. But they bring shadows.
(The music shifts. The SPIRIT ENSEMBLE circles him, whispering as wind.)
SPIRIT VOICES (Whispered)
Change… change… beware…
CHIEF UGBE
They came last moon. Promising roads and schools.
But roads lead away.
And schools do not teach our children our names.
BEBI
They asked me my clan. I said “Obanliku.”
They laughed.
They gave me a name that isn’t mine.
MMA YEFON (touching her chest)
They say our drums are demons.
But who do they call when their blood cries out?
We call the ancestors.
We call the mountain.
Scene 4: The Rift Begins
(Night. Villagers gather around the sacred fire. Ayina, a bold young woman, enters carrying a scroll—symbol of “education.” She has been to the mission school.)
AYINA
(earnestly)
I learned things. Words they’ve written in books.
History… science… letters.
But none of them write about us.
We are invisible in their learning.
BEBI
Then what did they teach you?
To speak like them? Dress like them?
To forget who we are?
AYINA
No, Bebi!
To remember—with eyes wide open.
To return with our names intact.
MMA YEFON
(singing)
If you forget the drum…
Who will sing for your bones when you are gone?
Scene 5: A Warning from the Spirit World
(The SPIRIT CHORUS hums louder. A flash of thunder. Elder NKUM kneels at the base of the tree.)
ELDER NKUM
The ancestors are stirring.
They say the river will split.
Some will follow the current.
Some will hold the roots.
(He holds up a calabash.)
ELDER NKUM (cont’d)
Inside this calabash is tomorrow.
But if we do not know yesterday…
Will we know how to drink it?
Scene 6: Final Chant – The Mountain Speaks
(All characters gather. Drums rise. A call-and-response chant begins.)
ENSEMBLE (Call & Response):
CALL: Obanliku!
RESPONSE: We are here!
CALL: Whose name do you carry?
RESPONSE: The mountain’s!
CALL: Who speaks when the wind cries?
RESPONSE: The ancestors!
CALL: What do we remember?
RESPONSE: Everything.
(Lights fade to blue. Ancestral masks glow. Flute plays a farewell tune as the calabash is closed.)
