By
Obododimma Oha.
If there is anything that Mbe nwa Aniga (Mbe son of Aniga), or Mbekwu, is known for in Igbo folklore, it is that he takes advantage of others, applying his wisdom the wrong way to defraud others. Mbe expects others to be the victims of his tricks. In other words, he does not expect that he himself would fall victim to his own very machinations. We normally do not set out to work against ourselves! Far from it, it is always the other.
Mbe knows the politics of otherness at his fingertips, having a high idea of his wisdom, or that he is wiser than others and can deal with them. Gradually, the name has become a semiotic of the dubious.
Perhaps, driving this feeling of superiority is the desire to use the wisdom to benefit oneself, even at the expense of others. So, Mbe is selfish through and through, apart from his pride that he is better than other animals. But, to make sure that this selfishness appears to belong to wisdom, look at what Mbe nwa Aniga does: he goes and collects all wisdom in the land (so he thinks!) and puts them in a calabash, carries the calabash of wisdom and wants to go and hide it, so that only he would have access to it (to consolidate his false cerebral superiority!
All right, let’s see how Mbe makes the historic journey to the selfish monopoly of wisdom. He gets to a tree trunk that has fallen across the road. To get over the trunk, Mbe must put down the calabash of wisdom. If he does that, he considers, the wisdoms may spill and passers-by would access them. He just does not want people to know that that there are wisdoms in the calabash. He is not Father Christmas and won’t make any gift to any fellow or share it. You know, selfishness believes it is wisdom! But it is one of the unwise things on earth. Well, imagine Mbekwu struggling to get over the tree trunk with the calabash of wisdom. No success.
Then, a man comes along. He considers what Tortoise is doing; then, offers this advice. “No, friend, you have to put down the calabash and climb over first. Then, you can take the calabash alone, maybe from where you placed it on the trunk.” What? Tortoise sees this option as better but gets angry with himself. His anger gets excess, the type the Igbo refer to as ariri, and not just iwe (anger). In his ariri, he lifts the calabash and dashes it to pieces on the ground. I thought I had become the wisest person in the land, carrying all the wisdoms in a calabash! What is the use carrying all the wisdoms in a calabash when one is not wise enough to navigate one’s way over a tree trunk and is given wise advice by another person, he concludes. With that, he abandons the project and walks homes, feeling defeated.
How often we play mbekwu in our political and social dealings with others. Mbekwu puts his interest first, not minding how it affects the other. But the things of the world are not always a question of who has thrown the other in a bout and who is in a position to carry the other home as meat. What if our plans expose our rotten underbellies and turn us to victims? Onye buru aso n’elu buru onwe ya (The person who spits at the sky spits at self). For the spittle shot will obey the law of gravity and descend on the one who spits. The sky moves away, untouched!
The Mbekwu of today’s Nigeria looks for the way it would benefit him. It would appear that he is after how it would benefit his tribe; but, no. Mbekwu would rather eat and shit to eat again than give his own son a piece of bone. Actually, Mbekwu is also devouring his tribe in the tricksterhood.
Mbekwu would use the tribe and the family for own gain; in fact, for self-flagellation. It is everyone for themselves! Every Mbekwu ought to learn the art of tricksterhood. Is Ayuga his wife and the kid Mbekwus hoping to depend on his aghugho forever? Shouldn’t they begin at home, at least for practice? Like charity that begins at home, tricks and selfishness and greed also have to begin at home!
But when Mbe becomes the victim of his own tricks, his own attempt at protecting self-interest, something must have happened in the kingdom of conspiracy. The problem may be that Mbekwu has no control over the turn of events. Onye ma echi? Who knows tomorrow? Uwa na-eme ntughari. The world keeps turning, so the affairs of people. Yes, onye ma echi?
Uwa na-eme ntughari, not because it is basking in the sun; although it moves round the sun, your harmattan becoming my winter. Uwa na-eme ntughari, your night becoming my day. Have you not heard it said that Nne nwata lo ahia, o di ka nke ibe ya agaghi alota? When your own mother returns from the market and you are dancing and singing ‘Mama alota, oyooyo!” it would look as if mine won’t; that mine has gone to obodo afudebe, the land of no-return.
But everyone’s mother would return from the market. Meet me at the playground and let’s sing “Mama alota” together.
Mbekwu is already a personification (animalization?) of self-inflicted misery. It is not a praise name to be called a trickster. It is not a happy thing either to outwit oneself in this cerebral celebration of oneness.
Obododimma Oha.
If there is anything that Mbe nwa Aniga (Mbe son of Aniga), or Mbekwu, is known for in Igbo folklore, it is that he takes advantage of others, applying his wisdom the wrong way to defraud others. Mbe expects others to be the victims of his tricks. In other words, he does not expect that he himself would fall victim to his own very machinations. We normally do not set out to work against ourselves! Far from it, it is always the other.
Mbe knows the politics of otherness at his fingertips, having a high idea of his wisdom, or that he is wiser than others and can deal with them. Gradually, the name has become a semiotic of the dubious.
Perhaps, driving this feeling of superiority is the desire to use the wisdom to benefit oneself, even at the expense of others. So, Mbe is selfish through and through, apart from his pride that he is better than other animals. But, to make sure that this selfishness appears to belong to wisdom, look at what Mbe nwa Aniga does: he goes and collects all wisdom in the land (so he thinks!) and puts them in a calabash, carries the calabash of wisdom and wants to go and hide it, so that only he would have access to it (to consolidate his false cerebral superiority!
All right, let’s see how Mbe makes the historic journey to the selfish monopoly of wisdom. He gets to a tree trunk that has fallen across the road. To get over the trunk, Mbe must put down the calabash of wisdom. If he does that, he considers, the wisdoms may spill and passers-by would access them. He just does not want people to know that that there are wisdoms in the calabash. He is not Father Christmas and won’t make any gift to any fellow or share it. You know, selfishness believes it is wisdom! But it is one of the unwise things on earth. Well, imagine Mbekwu struggling to get over the tree trunk with the calabash of wisdom. No success.
Then, a man comes along. He considers what Tortoise is doing; then, offers this advice. “No, friend, you have to put down the calabash and climb over first. Then, you can take the calabash alone, maybe from where you placed it on the trunk.” What? Tortoise sees this option as better but gets angry with himself. His anger gets excess, the type the Igbo refer to as ariri, and not just iwe (anger). In his ariri, he lifts the calabash and dashes it to pieces on the ground. I thought I had become the wisest person in the land, carrying all the wisdoms in a calabash! What is the use carrying all the wisdoms in a calabash when one is not wise enough to navigate one’s way over a tree trunk and is given wise advice by another person, he concludes. With that, he abandons the project and walks homes, feeling defeated.
How often we play mbekwu in our political and social dealings with others. Mbekwu puts his interest first, not minding how it affects the other. But the things of the world are not always a question of who has thrown the other in a bout and who is in a position to carry the other home as meat. What if our plans expose our rotten underbellies and turn us to victims? Onye buru aso n’elu buru onwe ya (The person who spits at the sky spits at self). For the spittle shot will obey the law of gravity and descend on the one who spits. The sky moves away, untouched!
The Mbekwu of today’s Nigeria looks for the way it would benefit him. It would appear that he is after how it would benefit his tribe; but, no. Mbekwu would rather eat and shit to eat again than give his own son a piece of bone. Actually, Mbekwu is also devouring his tribe in the tricksterhood.
Mbekwu would use the tribe and the family for own gain; in fact, for self-flagellation. It is everyone for themselves! Every Mbekwu ought to learn the art of tricksterhood. Is Ayuga his wife and the kid Mbekwus hoping to depend on his aghugho forever? Shouldn’t they begin at home, at least for practice? Like charity that begins at home, tricks and selfishness and greed also have to begin at home!
But when Mbe becomes the victim of his own tricks, his own attempt at protecting self-interest, something must have happened in the kingdom of conspiracy. The problem may be that Mbekwu has no control over the turn of events. Onye ma echi? Who knows tomorrow? Uwa na-eme ntughari. The world keeps turning, so the affairs of people. Yes, onye ma echi?
Uwa na-eme ntughari, not because it is basking in the sun; although it moves round the sun, your harmattan becoming my winter. Uwa na-eme ntughari, your night becoming my day. Have you not heard it said that Nne nwata lo ahia, o di ka nke ibe ya agaghi alota? When your own mother returns from the market and you are dancing and singing ‘Mama alota, oyooyo!” it would look as if mine won’t; that mine has gone to obodo afudebe, the land of no-return.
But everyone’s mother would return from the market. Meet me at the playground and let’s sing “Mama alota” together.
Mbekwu is already a personification (animalization?) of self-inflicted misery. It is not a praise name to be called a trickster. It is not a happy thing either to outwit oneself in this cerebral celebration of oneness.
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