Dearest General (I)

I hope this letter finds you well, sir, and that Anglon is making great strides in establishing her colonies in regions beyond the Ogbi. I am writing to report what I have seen here with my own two eyes, as well as what I have learned from the priests and the few locals I have brought into our fold. This place, Ogbiland, is unlike anything I have ever seen. In fact, dare I say it, there may be no place like it in all the known and new world.

I will start with the basics—power and government. After all, that is why we are here, isn’t it? To overthrow the existing power and claim the government. If we do not, how can we hope to civilize them in the ways of Anglon through faith in Xrist?

The Ogbis do not know kings, at least not as other tribes do. They run a decentralised government with regional rulers they call Ezes or Obis. In rare cases, these noble rulers are built on paternal lineage, but more often, they are selected by a council and can only rule for seven years. Their sons, should they wish to rule, must earn their own place. This applies as much to their highest offices as it does to their chiefs and councilmen, widely known as ndichie—titled men. There is a story among the locals of a king who was taken to the forest, tied to a tree, and left to die. His crime? Claiming the land for himself and acting as lord when he was meant to serve. In Ogbiland, it is forbidden to kill a king, but apparently, it is not forbidden to let him die. As you can see, they are a technocratic race—they will not be easy to break. It doesn’t help that even outside of the kings, if I may call them that, there are groups like the Umu Ada, the order of first daughters, who are in charge of women affairs. Power is very decentralized.

On the military front, they have developed many armies scattered across their lands, but they aren’t standing armies, as they do not see war as often or as bloody as we do. If they were ever to unite as one, even without the other tribes, they would be too much to bear. As it is now, they are weakened by divisions that stretch back to the slave era. Our supplies of arms have done well to fuel the conflicts that exist, but we must not relent. At least their weapons are still no match for the Maxim Gun, but we must take their ability to plan, and their advantage of the terrain, very seriously. We do not want a repeat of what happened with the Oba in Idoland. If we are to take this land, I have no doubt that bloodshed is a price that must be paid. From all accounts, they are not the kind of people to go quietly, as pride is strong in them. So is knowledge.

The soul of the average Ogbi is at home in who they are, and to truly grasp it, you must first understand their language—it is the root of their culture. My learning of the language continues to prove difficult; the curved mouthfuls they speak are often too heavy for my Anglon tongue, but I know enough to understand that it is very different from ours. For example, the Ogbis find it offensive when a word from a foreign language is introduced into theirs—not like Anglon with root words from Latine or Griik. If we do not take this language and its meaning from them, we will never be able to break them.

As for religion, like everywhere else, understanding exists on a spectrum. I have met with the wiser of them, and they have demonstrated a sophistication in philosophy that breaks down what we call their gods into concepts that map the internal human environment. I have also met the less esoteric who worship in a manner you may think of as idolatry—making gods of their symbols and even offering animal sacrifices, like Abrahem of the Old Law in the Xristian tradition. Just as we can tell esoteric Anglons from the blue of their eyes compared to the grey-eyed blind followers, you can also distinguish the esoteric Ogbis by the brownness of their eyes. No grey-eyed Ogbi can ever dream of becoming a titled man. They even have orders of cults one must pass through to gain knowledge of their own enlightenment before opportunities for such roles arise.

As a people, they are civil, generally welcoming, and prone to artistic impulses like dance, poetry, and theatre. Their oldest writings appear phonographic compared to the current iconographic system in use. Fortunately, there is no paper technology, so their history should not be very difficult to erase. I have attached a map of their land in this letter, along with notes on what we will need for military action, should it come to that, as I fear it will. After all, a people hard to rule even by one of their own will not easily bend to the will of another, especially an outsider.

They are yet to discover the power of light energy crystals and sometimes regard guns as dirty. But they have mastered many things, including the art of metal bending, agriculture, textile, and the like. It is their belief that technology is separate from civility. The wise among them think us mentally advanced but spiritually blind. These ones must be the first to go.

God bless the Queen. Long live the Anglon Empire.

Yours truly,
Commander James Stones

P.S. Of all the Ogbis, we must be most vigilant with the Eke region. If for no other reason, they are the kind to look one in the eye and never blink. They are snake whisperers, a people of great ancestral veneration—their memory is long, and their priests are wise.

The General read the letter once, then again, and again, his brows furrowed and his nose crinkling in certain parts. When he was done, he folded the paper gently and found a file for it, adding to his stack of many. He placed his hand on a black contraption on the large oak table and dialled its knobs until it made a crackling sound.

'Reverend Snow here,' a voice called from the contraption.
'Deploy protocol Canna. What is brown must first go grey.'
'Understood, General Sax. Consider it done.'

The contraption crackled again, orange light emanating from the corners of the black box, not sealed tightly enough.