How many years have passed since then? Nobody knows. One thing can be said 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 obscured 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, which today still bears his name; he owned undividedly all the expanses of steppes and forests, river waters, people and wealth. He had twelve wives, and the people, frightened by the cruel power, obeyed him unquestioningly. He was great, great in everything - both in courage and in anger. His power was equal to his glory and his cruelty. Everyone talked about him, but only with horror.
The leader's desires usually bordered on madness. Slaves never aroused his pity. 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 as he wanted at his disposal. And he, the great ruler, despised all people in his indomitable cruelty. Therefore, every time he sat on the throne or rose from it, he leaned on two rods that had very sharp ends. Under the weight of the leader's mighty body, these points pierced the hearts of two slaves prostrate on the ground on either side of his throne. And thus, every day he twice sacrificed as many people to the gods as he sank to and rose from the throne. 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 seemed petrified and did not know human feelings. I knew neither remorse nor regret. What did someone's human lives mean to him? Did he not kill many buffaloes, antelopes, wild boars and other animals? And isn’t it possible to kill people in the same way? And he killed them, killed them endlessly, finding joy in the killings.
His subjects endured everything in reckless submission. Words of condemnation were never spoken except in a whisper. People knew: if anyone showed even signs of dissatisfaction, he would immediately be executed. And since no one dared to openly accuse the leader of cruelty, deaths followed one after another. Horror gripped the people. Lord 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 around the leader’s throne from countless victims, a strange thought occurred to the ruler: why don’t the people he killed return to reproach him or take revenge on him? Maybe 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 ruler who killed them... This means that 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 completely happy people, the ruler of all the people killed by him... will be able to gain even greater power than he has now. And then his glory will spread even further and to the entire, not only earthly, but also the underworld.
He thought and thought for a very long time. And just as strange lights light up in the darkness of the night in the sea waves, so out of heavy and long thought an unexpected decision arose in the leader’s head: he orders an underground dwelling to be built for himself. It will be spacious and deep, there will be a place for cooking, for a hearth... The necessary food supplies and drink will be taken there, and there, underground, he will live with one of his many wives and two slaves. If God takes dead people to heaven, above, and commands them, then why can’t he send Bango and Musungo to command below, underground?
And then one night, when people were sleeping peacefully, he ordered the horns to be blown, deciding to immediately inform everyone of his intention and hear the opinion of the people. A huge crowd obediently gathered at the sacred tree. People, rubbing their sleepy eyes, were at a loss. What is so important that the great leader is going to tell them at night? Maybe a war is starting with someone or he is plotting another extermination of slaves?
Finally, Bango a Musungo appeared, accompanied by two chief advisers. He sat down on the wooden throne and slowly, solemnly announced his latest decision.
The majestic appearance of the leader, illuminated by torches, caused horror. The crowd gathered at the sacred tree looked like a huge anthill. Huddled close 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 the surprise that gripped them was replaced by fear, and fear by numbness. They could not understand what their leader was up to, why he needed everything from him. Has the great chief Bango a Musungo gone mad?
The spirits of the ancestors, said Bango a Musungo, revealed to him a great secret. The unknown world, the underworld, is a world where those who die on earth continue to live. Up in the sky, and everyone knows it, there is a world ruled by God. But no one knows—he also still didn’t know—that there is another world underground. And let no one doubt this, the spirits said - that means it is so. And if anyone needs proof, here it is: after all, the dead never return to earth, even to settle scores with someone... That is precisely why they do not return because they feel good underground, there they find something that 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 must believe. These are not dreams, not some kind of fiction, no! This is the truth, the great truth, revealed to him by the spirits of his ancestors. He thought about it, thought about it for many nights and days. Finally he made a decision: he will take on the difficult responsibility of ruling the underworld, because his ancestors chose him! He is the first person to whom such a mission is predetermined. Why did the perfume choose him? He doesn't know this. Maybe for his power, maybe for his courage... In the end, what's done is done, he is appointed to rule the unknown, underworld. God will continue to rule in the sky, but under the earth, he, Bango a Musungo, will become the only ruler. Therefore, he calls for tomorrow to begin building a royal underground dwelling for him.
People listened to the end, still not believing their ears.
But the elders immediately obsequiously approved the decision of their leader, the great Bango a Musungo, to henceforth become 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 agreement, with exclamations of warm approval, wished the leader a new happy reign.
Bango a Musungo, beside himself with joy, thanked the subjects who congratulated him, and promised to be the greatest ruler, even greater than he had been here on earth. And the leader ordered that calabashes with sweet, intoxicating wine made from fermented maize and honey be distributed to everyone.
The next day, Bango a Musungo called the people and ordered them to dig a hole. Deep and wide, it grew and grew before the eyes of its amazed subjects. Separate halls had already appeared, and the future home of Bango a Musungo was growing, stunning with unprecedented dimensions. People walked around and couldn’t believe their eyes. Looking into the black depths of the dungeon, everyone asked themselves: is this really true, is it really possible that Bango a Musungo will hide in this abyss?
Everyone was looking forward to the end of the work, fearing only one thing: that Bango a Musungo would change his decision, change his mind. Silent hatred had long been rising against him in the souls of his subjects.
And then the desired night came. The work was finished. In the darkness, huge blocks of stones were visible, blocking the entrance to the dungeon. Only a small opening remained so that Bango a Musungo, accompanied by his wife and two slaves, could descend into his new kingdom. And the leader organized an unprecedented celebration for the people that night. Celebration of farewell to him.
People, drunk both from drinks and from joy, indulged in endless dancing, emitting wild screams, laughing in hoarse voices, secretly glorifying the desired moment that had come. Both men and women, both young and old, were engulfed in a flame of delight. The drums were thundering, the horns were blaring, and it seemed as if the air was thick with a thunderstorm. In the bright light of the fires, bizarre shadows rushed along the ground, waving their arms and wriggled along with the dancers, as if doubling their number. People were jubilant: everything was going the way they wanted. And Bango a Musungo, sitting proudly on a carved black throne, smiled welcomingly at the crowd. An incredible night was drawing to a close. The sky in the east brightened a little, and the roosters crowed their first greeting to the morning. And the people were still dancing, everyone was singing, and now it was no longer joy that made their bodies tremble, but tense anticipation. When will it happen? What if the leader changes his decision?.. And flatteringly, humiliatingly, people repeated, bowing before 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 wider, and his face, distorted by a frozen grimace of joy, resembled a mask of an evil spirit.
Finally the long-awaited moment arrived. At a sign from Bango a Musungo, one of the elders blew a huge buffalo horn. And immediately all the unfortunate, breathless, sweating people, with one anxiety in their hearts, with one thought in their heads, squatted down in front of the ruler.
- You, elders and advisers, you, people, everyone who hears me, remember well what I tell you! I wish and command that every day - do you hear? - so that every day you come to my new home! I want everyone to come, every single one! This is my wish! - said Baigo a Musungo, looking around at his subjects with a menacing look.
And a friendly cry of agreement sounded in response. Having recovered from their fright, the people moved to accompany the great leader to his new place of settlement.
Impatience burned our hearts. 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! Can you trust his words? After all, a completely different intention may be hidden in his heart! What if he was just planning to test his unfortunate subjects... Oh, if only he really died and it would be possible to bury him!
And so the elders turned to the leader, standing near the gaping hole, with a brief parting word. They called him the great son of the earth and wished him to successfully rule the new kingdom. And then the crowd began to sing, and in the voices of the people there was an ardent plea for deliverance. It echoed in the darkness of the night across wide open spaces, over huts and cultivated fields.
A jubilant, smiling Bango a Musungo finally went down into the dungeon. Following him, his beloved wife disappeared into the darkness, then his slaves... And a huge heavy stone blocked the entrance to the leader’s new home. Only the small hole through which air passed was black.
The next morning, leaving all their work, the people went to visit Bango a Musungo. The eldest of the elders tapped his staff on the stone and, humbly bending over the dark opening, respectfully exclaimed:
- Bango a Musungo, Bango a Musungo, how are you feeling there?
“Okay,” the leader’s dull voice was heard from the depths. “I feel good.” I just don't like the dark!
The next day people came to the dungeon again. And, just like the day before, the elder asked:
- Bango a Musungo, Bango a Musungo, how are you feeling there?
“To be honest, it’s not at all what I expected.” I'm already tired of being here. If it doesn't get better, I'll come back to you.
The respectfully bowed subjects looked at each other, whispered, and the same thought was born to everyone at the same time: everything must be done to prevent Bango a Musungo from returning to earth. It seemed that all the people were sick with the same disease: everyone's faces were distorted, everyone waved their arms, making disrespectful movements, everyone uttered curses in hoarse voices. No one wanted to see Bango a Musungo as leader anymore. The discontent that the people had harbored for many years has now turned into uncontrollable hatred.
Parents lost their children, children lost their parents, women lost their husbands... Why? Because Bango a Musungo only thirsted for blood, killing was his need. Who wanted such a leader? Maybe someone loved him? No! No, no one! They were afraid of him, yes... And now... Now he is underground and underground he will receive a well-deserved reward for the evil that he sowed. He wanted it himself. He will receive a fatal blow from his own hand.
Can people now feel sorry for Bango a Musungo if he has never taken pity on anyone in the many years of his power? No, he must stay in this dungeon. The home he chose for himself will become his grave. All hearts were filled with cruelty. People had been waiting for his death for so long that now, when the desired moment approached, no one wanted to prolong the leader’s life, no one wanted to help him return to earth.
No! No, never! Parents lost children, children lost parents, women lost husbands...
Whenever he had a desire to possess a woman, he could simply demand that she come to him - the old law allowed this, but he would first kill the husband, even if he did not express dissatisfaction. All the leaders wanted to have beautiful women and got them without killing anyone. This one surpassed everyone! Now he will get what he deserves - he will remain in the dungeon forever. Let him rule the dead!
On the third day, the crowd again headed to the leader's underground dwelling. Leaning towards the opening, the same elder repeated the previous question:
- Bango a Musungo, Bango a Musungo, how are you feeling 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 will die! How long have I been screaming, calling you! How long have I been asking to be let out, and no one comes! Ayue, quickly, quickly, remove the stone! Oh, I'm dying!
But instead of answering, some brave men ran up to the hole and, before anyone could stop them, threw several blocks of stone down.
Complete silence reigned all around. It became so quiet, as if Bango a Musungo still continued to rule the people.
And suddenly it was as if someone pushed all the people at once. They rushed to the underground dwelling, seized by one desire at all costs to prevent the hated leader from ever coming out. Seized 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 over the last dwelling of Bango a Musungo, and today is still visible from afar.
How many years have passed since then? Nobody knows. One thing can be said 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 obscured the main character, an ancient legend confirms the existence of Baigo a Musungo.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru