Ever wonder how some random guy came up with this, BELL LARGER, THE SPIRIT THAT BINDS US??’

Well, it has been told of that man. He walked the face of the earth when the only alcohol was local brew. ‘Malwa’!

This man loved his drink.

He woke up to it, and slept on it.

He even got tuberculosis and refused to go to the witchdoctor, so that he would not share straws and have the pot all to himself.

He incurred debts.

Debts he could not pay, because he had desserted his duties. His duties being the only thing that could allow him get the only form of payment acceptable, a slave.

Thus because he could not pay his debts because he had neglected his duty of sleeping with his wife so she could bear him a son whom he would have given to the chief as payment for the brew, he run away.

This man run away so far, that he was never found.

Day passed and night fell.
The mornings were counted til the months were no more.
Years went by, and the chief became ill.
At 10000024 years of age, it was such a premature death, but he knew his time had come.
He decided to consult the gods on what wrong he had done to deserve a death so early in his lifetime.

To this the gods replied, ‘You separated one from many!’

With this the chief wondered.
For sure he had kept his people close together. For those who had wronged him, he had killed, and had their blood mixed in the brew so they still lived amongst them.

He then remembered the one who had run away and never been found.

Knowing he had no hope of ever finding this man, he ordered for the largest pot to be made and filled with brew.
The brew was to be left outside so the soul of the man who run away would return.

Three days later, this was done.

Immediately the brew had been poured, drums begun to sound in the distance.
Afraid that the gods were angry, many begun to scatter.
The chief however, remained in place and awaited his fate.
He would die knowing he had tried in vain, but he had tried his best.

A few minutes later, an old man appeared.
It was the man who had run away.
The celebrations were put to a halt, so everyone could hear the tale

‘As an old man, i have no tale to tell.’ he said!

‘We want to know what brings you back after all these years!’ they asked.

‘The smell my brethren! The brew has a spirit of its own, and this spirit forever binds us!’
And from that day, it was named…

‘MALWA, THE SPIRIT THAT BINDS US’

And when bottles were introduced, the name was changed, but no one ever forgot…
BELL Larger, THE SPIRIT THAT BINDS US!

how pathetic!

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