Category Archives: Myths

Sacred narratives

The Igbo Creation Story

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Story:

Me: Could you tell me about the Igbo beliefs on the creation of the world?

PA: Ah, my child, in our Igbo way, we know that the world was made by Chukwu, the supreme god. Chukwu is the source of all things before anything existed, there was Chukwu. He created the heavens, the earth, the seas, the sky… everything you see and even what you cannot see.

Me: So Chukwu created not just the world but also the people?

PA: Yes, yes. He made the land and placed people on it to live, to care for it. But he did not leave the world empty, he also created the Alusi, the gods, to oversee different parts of life. Each one has their own role.

Me: Can you tell me more about these gods?

PA: There is Igwe, the god of the sky and the sun. Ala, the earth goddess, she is the one who gives life and watches over fertility. Then Amadioha, the god of thunder and justice. These are just a few. They serve Chukwu’s will, making sure the world stays in order.

Me: Was Chukwu worshiped directly?

PA: Hmm, not in the way people worship today. Chukwu is beyond us, too great, too vast for human understanding. He is in the sun, in the earth, in the breath we take. The people honored him by respecting the balance of the world, by making offerings to the gods he placed in charge. That was our way, before the white man came with his own beliefs.

Me: So before colonization, these beliefs were very strong?

PA: Oh yes. People knew that to live well, you must respect the forces that Chukwu put in place. There were shrines, prayers, sacrifices. Not for fear, but to keep harmony. It was how we lived, how we understood the world. Chukwu made all things, and so all things belong to him. That is what we believed.

Context:

This belief system was shared with me by a local elder from the Igbo community, who recalled the creation story passed down through generations. The elder explained that this creation story was part of the pre-colonial Igbo worldview, before the introduction of European influences and Christianity, which altered many indigenous beliefs. The informant shared that, in their youth, this story was commonly told in family settings, especially during ceremonies and celebrations, to help young members understand the origins of life and their place in the universe.

The informant described this creation story is integral to the Igbo community’s understanding of spirituality, nature, and morality. They emphasized that Chukwu’s creation of the world was seen as a model of harmony and balance. The elders in their community used this creation story to teach values such as respect for nature, harmony with other deities, and the importance of maintaining balance in one’s life.

My Interpretation:

The myth of Chukwu and the creation of the world is central to the Igbo worldview. It explains the origins of existence and highlights Chukwu as the supreme creator who maintains balance and order. This story not only describes the beginning of humanity but also reinforces the Igbo people’s deep spiritual connection to the earth and the cosmos. It reflects their belief that the physical and spiritual worlds are closely linked, with humans, ancestors, and spirits influencing one another.

Chukwu represents divinity in all aspects of life including creation, fertility, and governance. The emergence of other deities from Chukwu shows a structured spiritual system. Though Christianity and colonization changed many religious practices, the core ideas in this myth which are respect for a supreme god and the connection between the natural and spiritual worlds, still shape Igbo spirituality today.

Obanje Child

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Story:

PA: “Ah, my child, in the old days, people feared the Ogbanje. These were children who came from the spirit world, but they were never meant to stay. A mother would give birth, love the child, care for them, and just when she thought they would grow strong, eh, just like that, the child would fall sick and die. But it wouldn’t end there, no. That same mother would take in again, and when she gave birth, the baby would look the same, act the same, even carry the same stubborn ways.

People knew what was happening. It was the same child coming back to torment the family, to bring sorrow again and again. That is why they would go to the dibia, the healer, to find a way to stop it. Sometimes, they would cut a mark on the child’s body small, small scars, so that if they died and returned, they would see the mark and know they had been caught. Other times, the dibia would search for the child’s Iyi-uwa, a secret thing the Ogbanje hides in the earth, tying them to the spirit world. If they found it and destroyed it, ah, the child could stay. They would become like any other child, no more running away.”

Context:

The informant is an Igbo elder who grew up hearing about Ogbanje children from their own elders and witnessed how deeply people believed in them. They first heard about it as a child from older relatives and saw families who lost children seek out traditional healers for help.

My Interpretation:

The Ogbanje story is a really interesting way that Igbo people explained something as painful as losing a child. Instead of seeing it as just bad luck or illness, they believed some children were spirits that came and went, causing grief for their families. The idea of marking the child or finding their Iyi-uwa was a way to stop the cycle and make sure the child stayed.

Even today, some people still believe in Ogbanje, or at least know someone who does. It shows how strong traditional beliefs can be, even when times change. Whether or not someone believes in spirits, this story makes it clear how much families struggled with repeated child loss and how they tried to find ways to protect their children.

黄仙” (Huáng Xiān) Beijing weasel

AGE: 55
Date_of_performance: May 1, 2025
Language: Mandarin Chinese
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Editor
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada (formerly lived in Beijing, China for 20 years)

Folklore Explanation:
“When we were living in Beijing, we started hearing stories about something called ‘黄仙’—the weasel spirit. It wasn’t something you’d see in tourist guides or museums. It came up more when you talked to older locals or cab drivers, or if you spent time in the older hutongs. Apparently, weasels—especially yellow ones—were believed to have spiritual power. People said they could turn into humans or possess people, especially if you disturbed them or disrespected their territory.

There was this kind of unspoken rule about not messing with weasels. If one came into your house, you were supposed to leave it alone, maybe even light incense. It wasn’t fear, exactly—more like respect. A lot of people referred to them as one of the ‘Five Immortals,’ and they’d warn you that strange things might happen if you upset them. It was never presented as superstition so much as something you just knew not to challenge. Like, don’t risk it. It made the city feel layered—modern on the surface, but still holding onto these old beliefs right underneath.”

Analysis:
The legend of 黄仙 (Huáng Xiān), or the Yellow Weasel Spirit, is part of a broader category of animistic and transformation folklore rooted in Daoist cosmology and folk religious beliefs. In Northern China—especially in and around Beijing—黄仙 is one of the “Five Immortals” (五大仙), a group of animal spirits (fox, weasel, hedgehog, snake, and rat) believed to possess supernatural powers, often associated with both protection and trickery.

These spirits occupy a liminal role in Chinese folklore: part deity, part ghost, part moral enforcer. The belief in Huáng Xiān is a form of vernacular belief folklore, transmitted primarily through oral storytelling, neighborhood custom, and superstitious behavior rather than written texts or organized religion. It reflects a blend of animism, moral caution, and the uncanny, often surfacing in everyday life situations—someone’s illness, odd behavior, or even unexplained luck—providing a framework for interpreting the unknown. Though not officially recognized in modern state narratives, it continues to persist in urban folklore, especially in areas with a strong connection to traditional community life.

The Wendigo (Anishinaabe/Algonquian Legend)

Title: The Wendigo (Anishinaabe/Algonquian Legend)

AGE: 18
Date_of_performance: May 1, 2025
Language: English
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Student
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada

Folklore Explanation:
“We learned about the Wendigo in high school—it came up in our Canadian literature and history classes. The story really stuck with me. It’s this creature from Anishinaabe and other Algonquian Indigenous traditions, and it represents hunger and greed taken to an extreme. The Wendigo is said to be a spirit that possesses people during harsh winters, especially when they’re starving. It turns them into monsters—cannibals, basically. Some versions say it used to be human and was cursed, others say it’s always been a spirit.

The teachers were careful about how they presented it—not just as a scary myth, but as something sacred that comes from a specific worldview. It was treated with respect. What really got to me was how it wasn’t just a horror story—it was also a warning. A moral. It shows what happens when you let desperation or selfishness take over. Some of the other kids thought it was just creepy, but I thought it was way deeper than that.”

Analysis:
The Wendigo is a powerful example of Indigenous spiritual and moral folklore, primarily found in Anishinaabe, Cree, and other Algonquian-speaking nations. It functions as both a mythological being and a cautionary symbol, representing excess, greed, and the breakdown of social and natural order. Stories of the Wendigo are traditionally transmitted orally, as part of sacred storytelling practices that blend spiritual knowledge, survival ethics, and moral education.

It is classified as narrative folklore, but also carries characteristics of belief folklore, particularly in the way it intersects with historical experiences of famine, colonial disruption, and environmental change. In contemporary Canadian society, Wendigo stories have also entered literary and pop culture, sometimes problematically removed from their original context. However, within Indigenous communities, the figure remains a respected and often feared presence—not merely a monster, but a reflection of imbalance between humans, nature, and spirit. Its continued telling reinforces cultural identity, ethical restraint, and intergenerational knowledge.

monkey king 孙悟空 (Sūn Wùkōng)

Title: 孙悟空 (Sūn Wùkōng / The Monkey King)

AGE: 54
Date_of_performance: May 1, 2025
Language: Mandarin Chinese
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Retail worker and teacher
Primary Language: English
Residence: Toronto, Canada (lived in Beijing, China for 20 years)

Folklore Explanation:
“The Monkey King was everywhere when you were growing up in Beijing. You couldn’t walk into a bookstore or turn on the TV without seeing some version of him. The classic Journey to the West was part of school curriculum, of course, but it wasn’t just that—there were cartoons, puppet shows, live-action remakes, even branded snacks with Sun Wukong on them. He’s clever, a bit of a troublemaker, but always brave. Kids loved him. You and your sister had picture books with him flying around on clouds, fighting demons, and transforming into animals.

One of the most surreal experiences was getting to visit the film set for one of the big-budget remakes. That was the 2015 version, the one with Fan Bingbing. My friend Li—she translated some of Ai Weiwei’s work—her husband, Cheang Pou-soi, directed it. She invited us out to the set one day. You probably don’t remember all the details, but it was massive. Elaborate costumes, green screens, big lighting rigs—it was a whole operation. Seeing this ancient story being brought to life with modern technology really showed how deeply rooted the Monkey King is in Chinese culture, but also how adaptable he is. He’s survived for centuries, and he keeps changing with the times.”

Analysis:
Sun Wukong, or the Monkey King, is a central figure in Chinese mythological and narrative folklore, best known from the 16th-century novel Journey to the West (西游记). His character draws from Daoist and Buddhist cosmology, embodying themes of rebellion, transformation, and eventual enlightenment. He is classified as a heroic trickster figure, blending moral lessons with comedic mischief, and has been used historically to explore tensions between individuality and authority.

The Monkey King’s story has been transmitted through oral storytelling, written epic, shadow puppetry, television, and cinema, making him one of the most recognized figures in Chinese folklore. His presence in modern media—especially through state-supported educational programming and commercial films like The Monkey King (2015)—shows the way traditional folklore evolves into mass-mediated folklore, reaching audiences across generations and geographies. In the context of childhood in early-2000s Beijing, Sun Wukong functioned both as a cultural icon and a moral exemplar—accessible through entertainment, but still rooted in complex spiritual and historical traditions.