NOT ME

By OLAYIWOLA Faith Adedolapo

Onibodes festival was never without fun and events. It brought in villagers and visitors from other villages to Ilu Balogun. Ilu Balogun had a unique smell. It uniqueness lay in the combination of various smells unlike the other famous villages. Ilu Arewa smelt of locus and fermented palm wine. It was said that the people lost themselves to their desires while they got drunk; mixed their locus with the palm wine and called it their god. Ilu Opon, on the other hand, gave in for all sort of food smell. It housed the largest market among its neighbouring villages.  Every five days, you would begin to hear the call for sales as early as the second crow and it lasted till the sun went behind the cloud.  The stains of pepper, smell of fishes, dried pepper, melon and withered vegetables, rottenness of onions, groundnuts, yams, and potatoes, drops of fallen gains, walls stained by mud and forgotten slippers lingered on in the air that moved around the village.

The uniqueness in Ilu Baloguns smell was felt only once a year; during the Onibodes festival. The early morning announcement of the date chosen by the gods through the chief priest brought in several preparations by the villagers. No one ever asked why the chief priest had to announce the festival in lieu of the village town crier. It was said that the chief priest had fulfilled the orders of the gods and would be rewarded for it. Once, a well sickened priest had walked round the village to do same but died struggling to breathe. It was rumoured that he had announced a wrong date against the gods silence. Ilu Balogun smelled only during the festival. It was usually held two months past the new yam festival. Then, the freshness of the yam and softness of vegetables emitted not only from the ground but also, from the pots; gracefully emboldened with junks of meats and locally made seasonings and spices. Everyone came for the Onibode festival; from the royalty to the priesthood, merchants, laborers and paupers. No one went to the market a week to the festival and women were followed to the lower side of the river. Children were disallowed. Hence, they rebel and met Onibode drinking from the upper side of the river in all fierce and fury.

Ajike carefully soaked afinrin and efo green into the hot water and let it ooze out of the bowl while she attended to the fufu she was preparing. She pulled backwards the royal bead, which was given to her by Akanji as a sign of her engagement to him, as she struggled against the fire, smoke and hotness of the pot. She remembered her friend told her of how Akanji, the Baale of Aremo had beaten his wife the previous night and rebuked her from his presence for the next two months. She wondered on how that would affect her. If only she would be allowed to make a choice of husband. But now, she had to marry him as a payment for her fathers loan, she thought. She carefully brought down the pot from the fire and held her iro carefully from falling. Mtcheww. Now, those wives would say I am the reason for his misbehaviour, she said aloud. Ehn and if that be it, ko? She heard a voice from behind her, turned and saw Shade, her childhood friend beaming with smiles and heavily pregnant. Shade, she smiled, kaaro. Oko ko?’ Adupe lowo Eledumare, Shade replied and sat on the low stool at the end of the Ile Idana, And what bothers you about Akanji? You should be happy you are getting married into a royal and wealthy father despite you background. Look at me! Do you know how much I wish I am in your shoes?

Ajike watched her dance around the thoughts of being a royal wife when she had always been jealous of Shade who had the opportunity of marrying the love of her life. She wondered what it meant to cuddle in the arms of ones lover under the palm wine when the south sun was up; beaming with romance and silent love lyrics. She wished she could experience the feeling of being chased around by a man. She would then say ‘no’ and let him plead with her friends to speak to her on his behalf. She had done the same for Shade. Who would do so for her? Akanji was a family man. In two decades, he successfully wedded the village head’s only child and daughter, the Baloguns last child, and the widow of Akinwole. Akinwoles death was not unknown throughout the four clans that made up the Ilu Balogun. Akanji had sat on a mortal under the rain after he made a bet with Ajilo. The bet was a smite-if Sango failed to strike Akinwole, he would collect a plot of land from Ajilo and take his last daughter home; if not, Akinwole would release his Otuns title to Ajilo. Ajilo was known to be a lazy man; whose sweet talks always brought doom to whoever listened to them. But Akinwole thought he was wise. Having fortified himself, he took the bet. At first, Sango refused to show himself. Excitedly, Akinwole, comfortably positioned himself on the mortal and sipped from his calabash of palm wine. Sango then decided at this point to smite Akinwole. His body was thrown to the evil forest and tagged as an abomination to the gods. Two days later, Ajilo was made the next Otun while Akanji went in to his wife.

Are those not footsteps I hear in the front yard?, Shade brought her back to life. Who is there? Ajike called out loud. It is me, my wife. Ajike and Shade looked at each other and turned to watch Akanji appear before them. E kaaro sir, they both called out in unison. ‘Haa ha! Shade, you are also here? How are you? Shade softly smiled and said, ‘Beeni sir. Gbogbo Ile ko? Akanji replied, Adupe Adupe. Ajike Aya mi, I hope, you have not become the moon that sleeps at night.’ Ajike saw Shade admiring his attire and rotten teeth. Tell your father to come see me before nightfall. I am on my way to the Obas  palace.’

The chief priest walked into the palace with his cowries and strings announcing his presence. He wore a long saaki around his neck and walked with no footwear into the palace. The voice of the gods; they speak in fear and sorrow. Hearken, all who hear. Let no blood spill He said as he walked into the palace and greeted the king. May the gods bless the king. He turned, gave a long stare at Akanji and walked out of the palace. What does this mean? the king asked as the chiefs shook their heads in response.

A night to the Onibode festival, Ajike danced slowly into Akanjis bed while Akanji forced his way through her. It was tight and sticky; a hard nut to crack. The path way was narrow and dry. Ajike screamed and bled. Scared, Akanji forced himself out and ran out, screaming in fear. Akanji’s pregnant wife ran into the room with her stomach pushing in front of her. She watched Ajike bleed till she stopped breathing. Ode! Shebi you wanted to marry?, she hissed.  Ewo!,a sound came out of the shrine with flames reaching to the sky.

‘Well, how does that stop me from being called black? I am not black; I am African’, Tayo said as he scrubbed the orange beneath the running tap. ‘All the other children laugh at me. They call me a lost ape. Do you know what that means?’

Tracy kept mute and looked at the ceiling as though she was counting them. ‘So, how does that story have to do with me being bullied at school?’ he calls her back to life.

‘You won’t listen Tayo’ I was about to tell you. Listen  Tayo.’

Shortly after Ajike’s death. The chief priest wept till he got to the palace. He met the king in handcuffs. The white men in their peeled skin came and took over the land. Most of the royalties were taken. That was how we got here.’

Perplexed, Tayo asked, ‘how does that affect me? Who was my grandmother? Ajike?’

‘No, Akanji’s third wife, the pregnant one, the widow of Akinwole.’

‘That can’t be. I cannot be the son of the African woman who watched another woman die’

‘Black’

‘I am not black. I am African!’

‘Black African then’

Tayo walks away.

Kaaro- Good morning

Oko ko?- How is your husband?

Adupe lowo Eledumare- We thank God

Ile Idana- Kitchen

Beeni- Yes

Aya mi- My wife

Ode!- Fool!