Every Beat has a story.

Mbeku

“It talks its way into every feast and out of every consequence — almost.”

In Igbo folktales the tortoise is the archetypal trickster: clever, greedy and talkative. In the widely told tale of the tortoise and the birds (retold in Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart), Tortoise borrows feathers to attend a feast in the sky, renames himself 'All of you' so that everything offered 'to all of you' becomes his, and is abandoned by the angry birds. He falls, his shell shatters, and a medicine man pieces it back together — which is why the tortoise's shell is not smooth. Trickster tales are used to teach children moral lessons.

Mbeku gather where the tortoise's tales are still told — courtyards, market benches, moonlight story circles — as if they like to hear about themselves. Young Mbeku have glossy, unbroken shells and a bottomless appetite for other Beats' good fortune.

Patchshell Mbeku

“Every crack in its shell is a lesson. It has learned most of them.”

The tortoise after his fall from the sky feast: his shattered shell was gathered and stuck back together by a medicine man, leaving the cracked, patterned shell tortoises have today.

Mbeku that have fallen hard and been nursed back by an herbalist set in a patchwork of mismatched plates. They are humbler, tougher and — the herbalists say — only slightly less greedy.

Oilhound

“It was on its way somewhere important. Then it smelled the oil.”

In an Igbo myth of the origin of death, the people sent the swift dog to Chukwu with the plea that the dead should return to life, while a slower messenger carried the opposite message. On the way the dog stopped to help itself to fresh palm oil a woman was pressing, and arrived too late — so death became permanent. Versions differ on the slower messenger (chameleon or toad).

Handling note: Chukwu is the Supreme Being in Igbo religion; 042beats references the tale but never depicts Chukwu. 'Nkịta' simply means 'dog'; the Beat's game name is the English 'Oilhound'.

Oilhound are rangy roadside Beats with oil-glossed coats. Loyal, fast and hopelessly distractible, they will abandon any errand for a palm-oil seller — and somewhere deep down they know what that once cost the world.

Egbe

“Let it perch.”

Egbe is the Igbo word for the kite, the bird of prey that circles over markets. It appears with the eagle (ugo) in a well-known Igbo proverb: 'Egbe bere, ugo bere; nke sị ibe ya ebela, nku kwaa ya' — let the kite perch and let the eagle perch; whoever says the other should not perch, may its wing break. The proverb is usually read as 'live and let live'.

042beats' Egbe is a market-wise kite Beat that circles above Ogbete and New Market waiting for its chance. Strike one to drive it off its perch, and the proverb tends to come true.

Ugo

“Honour doesn't need to shout.”

Ùgò is the Igbo word for the eagle; it also means honour, and eagle feathers are worn as a mark of distinction. The eagle shares the proverb 'Egbe bere, ugo bere' with the kite.

Handling note: Eagle feathers carry real meaning in Igbo title culture. 042beats shows Ugo as a proud wild bird; it never shows feathers taken for status.

042beats' Ugo is a rare eagle Beat that nests on the Udi escarpment and soars over the whole city. It lets the kites have the markets; it has the sky.