Home Poem Bango a Musungo poem

Bango a Musungo poem

How many years have passed since then? No one knows. Only one can say with certainty that the events described took place in very ancient times, long before the Portuguese came to this land.

And despite the fact that many past years have overshadowed the main character, an ancient legend confirms the existence of Bango a Musungo.

He was the ruler of that huge part of the Angolan land that still bears his name today, he owned undivided all the expanses of steppes and forests, the waters of rivers, people and wealth. He had twelve wives, and the people, frightened by the cruel authorities, obeyed him unquestioningly. He was great, great in everything, both in courage and in anger. His power was equal to his fame and his cruelty. Everyone talked about him, but only with horror.

The leader’s desires usually bordered on madness. Slaves never made him feel sorry for him. He considered them inferior creatures, wild animals, no different from those he chased on the hunt. Why? Because he acquired them too easily – either in exchange for the same unreasonable creatures, or during frequent raids and battles with other tribes. He always had as many human lives at his disposal. And he, the great overlord, despised all people in his indomitable cruelty. Therefore, every time he sat on or rose from the throne, he leaned on two rods that had very sharp ends. Under the weight of the mighty body of the leader, these edges plunged into the hearts of two slaves stretched out on the ground on either side of his throne. And thus, every day he twice sacrificed as many people to the gods as he once descended to the throne and rose from it. But Bango a Musungo did not attach any importance to this. The number of slaves did not decrease. Some died, and others immediately appeared in their place.

He, as if petrified, did not know human feelings. I knew no remorse or regret. What did someone’s human life mean to him? Didn’t he kill buffaloes, antelopes, wild boars and other animals in a multitude? And can’t we kill people in the same way? And he killed them, killed them endlessly, finding joy in the murders.

In reckless obedience, his subjects tolerated everything. Words of condemnation were not spoken except in whispers. People knew that if anyone showed any signs of discontent, he would immediately be executed. And since no one dared to openly accuse the leader of cruelty, the deaths followed one after another. Terror shackled people. The lord of Bango a Musungo was for them the embodiment of the forces of evil and the god of death.

One day, when the earth turned red from countless victims around the throne of the leader, a strange thought came to the mind of the ruler: why do the people killed by him not return to reproach him or take revenge on him? Maybe it’s because they really like it in that world? If their souls do not come to take revenge, it means that in the other world they have found the desired refuge … They rejoice and thank the lord who killed them… So, Bango a Musungo, when he dies and is buried, will be able, if he becomes the ruler of the land of the dead… the ruler of a quite happy people, the ruler of all the people killed by him… will be able to gain even more power than he has now. And then his fame will spread even further and to the whole, not only the earthly, but also the underworld.

He pondered, pondered for a very long time. And as in the darkness of the night in the waves of the sea incomprehensible lights are lit, so from a heavy and long reflection in the head of the leader an unexpected decision arose: he commands to build himself an underground dwelling. It will be spacious and deep, it will have a place for cooking, for a hearth … The necessary food supplies and drink will be taken there, and there, under the ground, he will live with one of his many wives and with two slaves. If a god takes dead people to heaven, upstairs, and commands them, why can’t he send Bango a Musungo to command below, underground?

And then one night, when people were sleeping peacefully, he ordered a trumpet in the horns, deciding to immediately inform everyone of his intention and hear the opinion of the people. A huge crowd obediently gathered at the sacred tree. LiuDi, rubbing her sleepy eyes, was lost in conjecture. What is so important at night that the great leader is going to tell them? Maybe a war with someone begins or he is plotting another extermination of slaves?

Finally, accompanied by two chief advisers, Bango a Musungo appeared. He sat on a wooden throne and slowly, solemnly announced his final decision.

The majestic sight of the leader, illuminated by torches, caused horror. The crowd gathered at the sacred tree was like a huge anthill. Snuggling up to each other, people warily listened to an incomprehensible, amazing speech, some words of which were repeated from time to time by one of the advisers.

People listened, and wondered.the e that gripped them was replaced by fear, and fear by torpor. They could not understand what their leader was up to, why he needed everything. Didn’t the great leader Bango a Musungo go mad?

The spirits of the ancestors, Bango a Musungo said, revealed a great secret to him. The unknown world, the underworld, is the world where the one who dies on earth continues to live. Above, in heaven, and everyone knows this, there is a world ruled by God. But no one knows,” and he didn’t know until now, that there is another world under the ground. And let no one doubt it, the spirits said – so it is. And if anyone needs proof, here it is: after all, the dead never return to earth, even to settle scores with someone… That is why they do not return, that they feel good underground, there they find what they could not find on earth. And from now on, he, Bango a Musungo, will rule this world.

Everything he says is the truth, the great truth! People have to believe. These are not dreams, not fictions of any kind, no! This is the truth, the great truth revealed to him by the spirits of his ancestors. He pondered it, pondered many nights and days. He finally made a decision: he would take on the heavy duty of controlling the underworld, because his ancestors chose him! He is the first person to be destined for such a mission. And why was it chosen by the spirits? He doesn’t know. Maybe for his power, maybe for his bravery… In the end, what is done is done, he is appointed to rule the unknown, underworld. God will continue to rule in heaven, and under the earth, the only lord will be him, Bango a Musungo. Therefore, he calls for tomorrow to start building a royal underground dwelling for him.

People listened to the end, still not believing their ears.

But the elders immediately obsequiously approved of the decision of their leader, the great Bango a Musungo, to become henceforth the ruler of the underworld, approved of his desire to fulfill the will of his distant ancestors. And then the people, in the same feigned consent, with exclamations of warm approval wished the leader a new happy reign.

Bango a Musungo thanked his subjects who congratulated him with joy and promised to be the greatest ruler, even greater than he had been so far here on earth. And the chief ordered to distribute to everyone kalebas with sweet, intoxicating wine from fermented maize and honey.

The next day, Bango a Musungo summoned the men and ordered them to dig a hole. Deep and wide, it grew and grew before the eyes of amazed subjects. Separate halls have already appeared, and the future dwelling of Bango a Musungo was increasing, stunning with unprecedented size. People walked around and couldn’t believe their eyes. Looking into the black depths of the dungeon, everyone asked themselves: is this true, is it really in this abyss that Bango a Musungo will hide?

Everyone was looking forward to the end of the work, fearing only one thing: that Bango a Musungo would not change his mind, would not change his mind. Deaf hatred has long been raised against him in the souls of his subjects.

And then came the coveted night. The job was over. In the darkness, huge blocks of stones were visible, blocking the entrance to the dungeon. Only a small hole remained so that Bango a Musungo, accompanied by his wife and two slaves, could descend into his new kingdom. And the leader arranged an unprecedented celebration for the people that night. A celebration of farewell to him.

People, intoxicated with both drinks and joy, indulged in endless dances, emitting wild screams, hooting hoarse voices, secretly glorifying the desired moment. Men, women, young and old, were engulfed in a flame of delight. Drums rumbled, horns buzzed, it seemed that the air was saturated with a thunderstorm. In the bright light of the bonfires, bizarre shadows swept across the ground, waving their arms and wriggling with the dancers, as if doubling their number. People rejoiced: everything went the way they wanted. And Bango a Musungo, sitting proudly on the carved black throne, smiled affably at the crowd. The incredible night was coming to an end. The sky in the east brightened slightly, and the roosters sang the first greeting in the morning. And people were all dancing, all singing, and now it was no longer joy that made their bodies shudder, but a tense wait. When will it happen? Suddenly, the chief will change his mind?.. And flatteringly, humiliated, people said, bowing to the leader:

– Glory to You, Glory to You, Bango A Musungo! You will be the same great ruler of that world, the spirits will protect you from all evil!

And Bango a Musungo smiled wider, and his face, distorted by a frozen grimace of joy, resembled the mask of an evil spirit.

Finally, the long-awaited moment arrived. According to the sign of Bango a Musungo, one of the elders trumpeted a huge buffalo horn. And immediately all the unhappy, suffocating, sweaty people, with a single anxiety in their hearts, with a single thought in their heads.e, squatted down in front of the lord.

– You elders and councillors, you people, everyone who hears me, remember well what I have to say to you! I wish and command that every day, you hear? – that every day you will come to my new home! I want everyone to come, every single one of them! That’s my wish! Baigo a Musungo said, circling his subjects with a menacing look.

And a friendly cry of agreement sounded in response. Having recovered from the fright, the people moved to see off the great leader to the new place of his settlement.

Impatience burned my heart. Will a miracle really happen? Will Bango a Musungo really hide in this dark hole and be buried alive? We’ll see, we’ll see! Is it possible to believe his words? After all, in his heart may be hiding a completely different intention! And what if he only planned to test the unfortunate subjects… Oh, if he really died and you could bury him!

And so the elders turned to the chief, who was standing near the gaping hole, with a brief parting word. They called him a great son of the earth, wished him to successfully rule the new kingdom. And then the crowd began to sing, and in the voices of the people there was a fervent plea for deliverance. It swept in the darkness of the night across the wide expanses, over huts and cultivated fields.

A jubilant, smiling Bango a Musungo finally descended into the dungeon. Following him in the darkness disappeared his beloved wife, then slaves … And a huge heavy stone closed the entrance to the new dwelling of the leader. Only a small hole into which air passed was blackened.

The next morning, leaving everything behind, the people moved to visit Bango a Musungo. The eldest of the elders tapped his rod on the stone and, humbly bent over the dark hole, respectfully exclaimed:

– Bango a Musungo, Bango a Musungo, how do you feel there?

“Okay,” the leader’s deaf voice came from the depths. Only darkness I don’t like!

The next day, the men returned to the dungeon. And, just like the day before, the elder asked:

– Bango a Musungo, Bango a Musungo, how do you feel there?

– Truth be told, not at all what I thought. I’m tired of being here. If it doesn’t get any better, I’ll get back to you.

Respectfully bowed subjects looked at each other, whispered, and the same thought was simultaneously born in everyone: everything must be done so that Bango a Musungo does not return to earth. It seemed that all people fell ill with the same disease: all their faces were distorted, everyone waved their hands, making irreverent movements, all with hoarse voices pronounced curses. No one wanted to see Bango a Musungo as chief anymore. The discontent that the people had harbored for many years has now turned into unstoppable hatred.

Parents lost their children, children lost their parents, women lost their husbands… Why? Because Bango a Musungo craved only blood, killing was his need. Who wanted such a leader? Maybe someone loved him? No! No, no one! He was feared, yes… And now… Now he will receive a well-deserved reward under the ground and underground for the evil he has sown. He wanted it. He will receive a fatal blow inflicted by his own hand.

How can people now feel sorry for Bango a Musungo, if he has never taken pity on anyone in his many years of power? No, he should stay in this dungeon. The dwelling he has chosen for himself will become his grave. All hearts were filled with cruelty. People waited so long for his death that now that the desired moment approached, no one wanted to prolong the life of the leader, no one wanted to help him return to earth.

No! No, never! Parents lost children, children lost their parents, women lost their husbands…

Every time he had a desire to possess a woman, he could simply demand that she come to him – this was allowed by the old law, but he had previously killed his husband, even if he did not express dissatisfaction. All the chiefs wanted to have beautiful women and got them without killing anyone. This one surpassed everyone else! Now he will get what he deserves – he will forever remain in the dungeon. Let him rule the dead!

On the third day, the crowd again headed for the leader’s underground dwelling. Leaning over the hole, the same elder repeated the old question:

– Bango a Musungo, Bango a Musungo, how do you feel there?

And from the dungeon came a still menacing, but noticeably weakened voice:

– Ayue! I can’t be here anymore! Remove the stones, I want to get out of here, otherwise I’ll die! How long have I been screaming, calling you! How long do I ask to be let out and no one is coming! Ayueh, quickly, quickly remove the stone! Oh, I’m dying!

But instead of oSome brave men ran up to the hole and, before anyone could stop them, threw down a few blocks of stone.

Complete silence reigned all around. It was as quiet as if Bango a Musungo was still ruling the people.

And suddenly, it was as if someone had pushed all the people at once. They rushed to the underground dwelling, gripped by one desire at all costs to prevent the hated leader from ever coming out. Overwhelmed with anger and horror, people dragged stones from all sides and piled them one on top of the other, one next to the other, until a huge monument grew above the last dwelling of Bango a Musungo, and today still visible from afar.

How many years have passed since then? No one knows. Only one can say with certainty that the events described took place in very ancient times, long before the Portuguese came to this land.

And despite the fact that many past years have overshadowed the main character, an ancient legend confirms the existence of Baigo a Musungo.

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