Jake – White man, 29, an ex–dog walker with too much gel in his hair and not enough experience. Nervous. Just trying to do his job.
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Bangwa Queen – Sacred. Watchful. Royal statue spirit from Cameroon.
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Amanirenas – Kandake of Kush. Unbowed. Regal fury.
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Tabot – A sacred relic from Ethiopia. Glows faintly. Voice of divinity.
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Pokomo Drum – Rhythmic, echoing voice. Once ceremonial. Now forgotten.
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Child Spirit – Gentle voice of future generations.
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Statue – Deep voice. Represents the forgotten makers.
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Imhotep – Spirit of ancient knowledge. Stern, poetic.
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Nyasha – A weaver spirit, bearer of memory and folklore. (A public address announcement echoes through the gallery. Dim lighting. Security doors click shut in the distance. Enter JAKE, holding an energy drink, checking his phone. He walks slowly, reading the plaques on display.)
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PA SYSTEM (O.S.)Ladies and gentlemen, the Museum will be closing in 30 minutes. Please begin to make your way to the nearest exit. We hope you have enjoyed your visit today at the British Museum.
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JAKE Alright, first night. Don’t touch anything. Don’t break anything. Easy enough.(He reads plaques out loud as he walks.)
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JAKE (cont’d)“Sainsbury African Galleries”… dope… “Sacred Tabot of Axum”—sounds intense… “Pokomo drum, origin unknown”… “Royal crown, possibly decorative”… ohhh—Sculpture of—
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(The lights flicker. A faint tremble in the floor.)
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BANGWA QUEEN (O.S.)Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch the sacred?
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JAKE (stumbling back) Okay! Okayyyyy I didn’t realize it was interactive!
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STATUE (O.S.) I did not agree to be encased in dust and glass for two hundred years.
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JAKE Nope. Nope. What in Margaret Thatcher’s ghost is going on—
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STATUE Your ancestors plundered kingdoms. And you fear statues?
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(A figure begins to take form—AMANIRENAS, regal and silent, emerges from shadow.)
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AMANIRENAS They called me Kandake.
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JAKE (backing up)Listen, Your Majesty or—I’m just here to—
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AMANIRENAS They called me Kandake. I buried kings. I defied Rome. And now I gather dust beside my children’s stolen bones.
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JAKE (reading label nervously)Well… technically it says “acquired” on your label.
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AMANIRENAS (stepping closer)I was acquired by…gunpowder and gospel. By treaties signed in blood. I was taken in 1736 — hacked from my resting place while my people fled flame.
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(A soft rhythm begins to build.)
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POKOMO DRUM (O.S.)I sang weddings into being. I summoned rain. Now I sit behind glass while my land forgets my voice.
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JAKEOkay, that’s a drum. That is a talking drum.
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TABOT (O.S.)No eyes but the priest’s should behold me. And yet here I am. Spectacle. Souvenir.
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STATUEEvery label reads “origin unknown.” But we remember.
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AMANIRENASWe remember.
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BANGWA QUEENWe remember the flames. The chains. The quiet prayers under stolen stars.
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CHILD SPIRIT (O.S.)They took my mother’s beads. Now children search for themselves in foreign tongues.
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JAKE (gripping walkie-talkie)Central, uh, we got a… we got a spiritual breach in the African Galleries—
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STATUE You wear the keycard. You hold the codes. But you don’t hold the story.
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POKOMO DRUM We have waited in silence. But silence is not our name.
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TABOT Return is not a favor. It is justice.
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AMANIRENAS And if the living do not return us, the dead will.
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(The room begins to shift. The glass displays fade. Warm light spills in. Trees. Drums. Laughter.)
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BANGWA QUEEN You think us relics. But we are prophecy. The earth still sings us. The sky still waits.
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JAKE (softly)What do you want from me?
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CHILD SPIRIT To listen.
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STATUE To remember. To return what was never yours.
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AMANIRENAS I would like a refund.
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(Enter IMHOTEP, ancient and slow.)
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IMHOTEP We built pyramids not just from stone, but from memory. And you built walls to forget. You say 'civilization' like we were not the blueprint.
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NYASHA (O.S.)I was a weaver. My fingers spun stories into cloth. Where is that cloth now? Framed behind glass. Labeled anonymous.
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JAKE (to himself) This isn't happening…
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IMHOTEP It is always happening. You just stopped noticing. You stopped listening.
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NYASHA The loom still turns. The spirits still hum. Even in silence, we create.
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TABOT Behold us not as prisoners. We are archives. We are breath.
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JAKE Okay… okay. I hear you. What can I do?
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BANGWA QUEEN Do not write us off in plaques. Write us back into your memory.
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CHILD SPIRIT Tell our stories to your children. Let them learn the truth not from exhibits, but from ancestors.
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JAKE (steps toward Tabot)What happens if I… release you?
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TABOT (glowing faintly)Then the covenant is restored. Not with kings, but with the people.
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AMANIRENAS Return begins with a single step.
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JAKE But I’m just a night guard.
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STATUE You are a door. Be a door that opens.
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(The gallery walls shimmer again. The relics seem to breathe.)
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NYASHA The looms spin again. The songs rise.
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POKOMO DRUM The beat remembers. The beat forgives.
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(A long silence. Jake looks around. He kneels.)
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JAKE Then I return what I can. Beginning with truth.
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(He picks up the plaque: “Unknown Artisan.” He places it on the floor.)
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JAKE (reading aloud) Unknown no more. Known. Remembered.
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ALL (O.S., in harmony)We remember.
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(Lights dim. The gallery stills.)
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BLACKOUT.
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