🦌 “The Hunter of Sôbi Hill” – The One Who Chased a Golden Antelope 🎤 From the Ilorin Stories Collection Narrated by _AYOLO BUSINESS ROUTE_, the story teller --- NARRATOR (V.O.) Not all warriors wear iron. Some wear silence. Some wear dried leaves. And one… wore a necklace of leopard’s teeth. --- 🌄 Act 1: The Whisper on the Hill Long ago, before engines roared and radios sang, Sôbi Hill stood tall and watching — a quiet sentinel over Ilorin. At its base lived Baba Dantala, a hunter. Not rich. Not famous. But his arrows never missed, and his ears? They could hear a squirrel blink. One harmattan morning, as white mist danced across the grass, he saw it: > A golden antelope. Not brown. Not spotted. Golden — like sunlight wrapped in skin. It bowed to him. Then ran. --- 🏹 Act 2: The Endless Chase Baba Dantala followed. Up rocky hills. Through bamboo groves. Days passed. Nights blurred. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. The villagers said: > “Leave it, Baba. That’s no ordinary animal.” But he answered: > “Some things are not for eating… they’re for understanding.” He climbed higher and higher. The hill whispered in Fulani. > “Karka ji tsoro.” (Fear not.) --- 🐾 Act 3: The Place Between Worlds At the summit, the golden antelope stopped. It turned, eyes like lanterns. Suddenly, it spoke — not with lips, but inside his head. > “You have proven patience. You have hunted not for meat… But for meaning.” Before his eyes, the antelope dissolved into golden dust. And where it stood? A scroll. Wrapped in cowhide. Sealed with royal ink. Inside were ancient writings — Ilorin’s forgotten treaties and lineage maps — long thought lost. --- 🏛️ Act 4: The Hunter Who Became History Baba Dantala returned, scroll in hand. The Emir called him forward, in the great court. > EMIR SULU GAMBARI: “You have hunted truth.” > DANTALA: “Truth hunted me, Mai Martaba. I just followed.” From that day, he was no longer just a hunter. He became Keeper of the Hill — guardian of stories, protector of the city’s oldest truths. --- NARRATOR (V.O.) Some say if you climb Sôbi Hill today, And the wind is right, You’ll hear hooves… And maybe, just maybe, You’ll see something golden disappear into the fog. --- 🏹 Moral: "Truth does not always run fast — but it never hides forever."