Ota Benga – African Pygmy Tribesman Kept in Zoo

Verner was low on dosh and ended up giving Ota to the Bronx Zoo where he was allowed to roam around free and soon became a massive draw to the public. On one day alone it’s reported that 40,000 people came through the gates to oggle and harass him. He had a full time guard to make sure people didn’t pull him to bits with their idiotic curiosity, but was eventually kept full time in the monkey house where he befriended the chimps and the orangutans. It seems amazing to our modern brains that keeping a human in a cage was ever thought of as OK?

Darwin’s evolutionary theory was misapplied back then. People thought there were different levels of evolution in humans, the whites obviously being the most evolved because we had invented petticoats, cricket and table manners. Pygmies were considered little more than apes. Eventually, partly thanks to the complaints of black ministers, he was given free reign to wander the zoo again but became less and less impressed with idiot gawpers poking him in the ribs, tripping him over and laughing at everything he did. Fair enough.

One day he kicked off big time because the soda salesman wouldn’t give him a soda, it took three guards to get him back to his cage, apparently he fought like a “tiger”. Later he made a bow and arrow and opened fire, injuring the gawkers he hated so much. After that escapade it was time for him to leave the zoo, he had become more trouble than he was worth. Take the power back my friend.

He ended up at an orphanage for a while where he learned English, then, in 1910 he was taken to live in a black community in Lynchburg, VA. There he was accepted by the black families and popular with the little boys who he taught bush craft and helped collect honey. Apparently he thought it was hysterical anytime any of them got stung. I bet it was. He had his teeth capped and got some western style clothes in an effort to blend in but became progressively more and more homesick. He realised that he could never afford the boat fare home and this troubled him.

One lonely day in 1916 he lit a ceremonial fire, took the caps off of his teeth and shot himself in the heart with a stolen gun. Whitey has a lot to answer for. Ota Benga I salute you.

This is a book about him written by Verner’s grandson: