08/05/2026
MenOfArt... Bank on it
Kaakin The Mgbe Jama
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ANCESTOR🐆
WANDERER🌍
A FEW OF US HAVE BECOME FOLKLORE WRITTEN IN RHYTHMS 🪘 UNSPOKEN
08/05/2026
05/05/2026
Primitive, barbaric, occultic.
You swing incense in a lantern, gulp blood, chew flesh, paint starfish ash on the forehead, and that doesn't match the description?
Five hundred years ago on the this ancestral road, tradition not debated in ten thousand years, spirituality not negotiated got rewritten into ways unimaginable.
See how swiftly they put fire to the shrines and raised foreign buildings to replace? In the same vein these tenets will rise and fill back the hearts of men in the manner of the defiance of the machete.
This is just to stoke the embers. Change your channel.
26/04/2026
Screeding, painting, stucco works. Whatsapp+2349138469604
25/04/2026
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05/03/2026
Usually, when you run into a masquerade on the road and you're new to the masquerade thing, you fret, you step back, you even run. Children wish never to welcome the sight of the mask in their dreams.
This one doesn't care about making you feel all of that through its appearance, as it's comfortable just parading around in this dry, inflammable costume.
This nightwalker prefers stalking your backyard in the dead of night with a nasal sound that challenges the owl for the title of the loudest ambulance of the night.
In the days of true tradition, your ears could only bear witness to this exceptional sound once in a blue moon.
If you came around in the 2000s, you're a newborn and you'd probably say it needs to carry a fire extinguisher for its choice of costume.
But, nah... its spirituality alone is a firefighter's water tank.
Warning: ⚠️ DO NOT try this at home. Fire service fit tire for you.
05/03/2026
There are certain masquerades you do not see until there’s war.
It stayed that way until sometime ago.
They say the 21st century is the most peaceful time in human history. There are carnivals. There is singing and clapping. Then this two-faced warlord saunters in, staffs in both hands swinging coded nsidibi language.
The rope on its waist doesn’t cage it. The rope pleads for its sobriety. And the man wielding the rope has been made worthy enough.
08/02/2026
We grew up hearing stories of the great MGBE, founder of the forest, its ruler.
These stories have stock in the hearts of men refusing to let go. So the ancestors found a way to bring the MGBE in human form to dwell among men.
And the MGBE has been benevolent enough to share his mystery with the sons of the jungle.
Those enticing dance steps of the MGBE—they intoxicate the mind and leave you desiring more, because he speaks NSIBIDI in every move.
Leave the tarred grounds that men have made and experience MGBE in the dust. The way you view ancient aesthetics will never remain the same.
08/02/2026
She was first the choicest of maidens for a worthy suitor when she came of age to don all these red attire. She danced to tell her story. She danced to prove readiness.
Then she became a mother. The red came back to decorate, to enhance dance steps borne from one of the most ancient of cultures.
Royals of the time couldn't reduce her to a stage theatre, so they bothered not even to try.
Now, in the modern world, she blesses a crowd of hypnotized onlookers with her succulent body in carnivals and gatherings of chiefs—a far cry from the cause of her archaic inception. But her values still remain, her stories.
She sashays a step, and your heart skips.
She smiles, your pulse rate deteriorates.
She laughs... death sentence!
She narrates so much in each dance step, yet she does not tell a name except... Moninkim!
Photographer: Melanin photos
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