The story I am about to tell you is a true story.
Well to some extent. If you are from the enchanting land of Agbokim, or have heard tales from that land you have an unfair advantage.
Agbokim is the home of seven waterfalls. Very close to the border of Cameroon. It is a beautiful place.
You can pay for a tour. You will be regaled with a fantastic tale by the ‘curator’ as he is wont to call himself. These tales are generally too fanatic to believe depending on how much of an idiot you are.
One of these tales takes place in a natural cave to the left of the waterfalls. I am shown the thrones of deities. One male, one female. A king and his queen.
His throne has a thick jute rope on top of it. Doubled like you would a lasso.
No not you… I am not acknowledging you in any way. I am only looking to describe the rope…
Her throne has the tip of a spear driven into the rock representing her seat. Pointed end of said spear upwards.
The curator described how the king was dressed. Between you and me, I do not give two flying pieces of excrement. What is my business how the king is dressed.
The queen was dressed in beads he told me. Beads from neck down. I do not want to insult the curator, but I question his skills at describing things