ep8-2

The year was 1897. The ancient Kingdom of Benin had fallen,

and a new, cold order was established in the wake of the fire.

Every corner of the once-vibrant city now felt the heavy tread of the occupier's boot,

as silence replaced the rhythms of trade. The people stood in shadows,

their dignity tested by foreign laws, while the elders watched their heritage being swept away

into history. Among the ruins, young Igue touched the cold ash of his father's

workshop, the weight of a thousand years of art now resting on his

shoulders alone.