Òyì nke e mepụtara

When the fire is low and the night is quiet… the ancestors speak. Not always in thunder. Not always in storms. Sometimes… in silence. Sometimes… in stories. Stories of those who were doubted… before they were destined. Stories of those who were broken… before they became unshakable. Tonight… we remember one of them. A child who could not stand in a world that expected him to rise. A name that would one day echo across kingdoms… Sundiata Keita. Before he became a king… before he became a legend…