New Beginnings

It just dawned on me that I didn't actually answer the third question. Like most things that occur in nature, there is a male version of my species. When people say "maame wata", there's the automatic assumption that there is "papa wata" but "Maame Wata" to us is the personification of all the values we believe. We worship her not because it is our subconscious wiring but because she is love, peace, passion, warmth, fertility all in one and all at once. So, in a way because we are her creations, we are all "Maame Wata". Gender has a reduced importance with us.

I suppose the question on all your minds is what I am doing here. To be honest, these days I wonder. The West African gods of old have been shelved to the past. We have become less than mythology, a thing of former remembrance. We spend our days in the asoro conversing about better days, glorious days. Imagine being the god of thunder and lightning but your life is immersed with mortal-like activities: chatting, gardening, painting and the like. What's a god without a body of worshippers? There was a time in my memory where I used to be formidable. I could fill rivers with scores of life with a thought. It is not the as if I lost the power to perform such acts but it's more of there is no need. At the time, we placed ourselves out of reach with our mortal worshippers. We made it in such a way that they wouldn't need us anymore. The more we punished them, the more resilient they got. The more knowledge they got, the more the polluted, cut and destroyed what we had created. Mankind was created to our delight yet at every turn, they have sought to destroy us. We are immortal beings, physical representations of sentiments come to life. Our lives are infinite and for some, several. Being mortal is far from our grasp, it's hard for us to appreciate human lives or to understand their woes. I had an encounter recently and it gave me a different perspective. For a thing as old as me, this is quite refreshing.

The views from my previous video have skyrocketed since I last posted. The mortal mind works very differently and I guess I can understand it better now that I am human. A lot of you asked me questions about my origins and I have decided to share one personal story and I hope it is enough to satiate your present curiosities.

Mother

I never knew my father so in more ways than one my mother was both parents: father and mother.

I never knew my father yet I shared a remarkable sense of closeness with him. It was his heart that beat steadily in my chest and I acknowledged his presence.

I never knew my father yet in varying forms, I was my father. His presence was tangible in every aspect of my identity.

Losing my father nearly destroyed my mother but after having me she regained her will to survive. Against all odds, she built a kingdom within the heavenly realms. She created a world where we could thrive in a world where the gods were losing their foothold. Other gods who believed that another era was coming followed my mother's lead into a safe haven which was to remain unvisited by other gods and untouched by mortals.

Eons passed and my mother grew lonelier. The safe haven wasn't enough to quiet the loud presence loneliness had in her life. I remember narrating all the stories that had been passed down to my ears from the most skilled orators to her in the hopes that it would lift the cloud of gloom all around her. I became a jester for her sake because seeing my mother smile would mean everything. At the time, I didn't know that the thing she was missing from her life was love. "Love" was not a concept we experienced. We understood obedience, punishment, sacrifice, reverence and above all devotion but not love. I hoped that my devotion would be enough to lift her spirits but I was as misguided as I was foolish.

On this day, the universe conspired to have my mother meet Xevisoso. The Benin gods had fled their hometown because their shrines were being burnt by believers in the new religion. Their alters had been desecrated with their root being almost destroyed. They arrived in our realm on a prayer. The moment she laid her eyes on Xevisoso, she rose with purpose. He was like fire and lightning; and she was the radiance of the storm. It was as if there was nothing in between them as they gravitated toward each other. You would've thought it was love at first sight. They were opposing ends of the same coin and every act of love was deliberate. Over time, they became consumed with love for none other but themselves and their love brought forth my half-brother, Kano.

The early days were happy. Mother's courtyard was filled with guests who had come to witness my mother's bundle of joy. With Kano's arrival, my mother transformed to a softer, kinder version of herself. Sadness and despair were no longer her companions. Kano did what I never could, he made her happy. It was impossible to feel anything but love for my little brother because his natural earnestness. For me, it felt like there was no room. For centuries, my mother had been my closest friend and confidante. I looked forward to sharing my mornings with her as we had done before but my mother had become even more devoted to her new family. Her absence forced me to seek out new company and so I did.