ajil:
THE KOLA-NUT TREE
Ifelodun comprised of Erimo, Araka, Ilobi, Ilase and Arimu. These five small villages were in the time past put together under the name Ifelodun by the Christian Society. Ifelodun herself was part of another league of towns—each comprising of small villages. The bigger towns—Ifelodun, Irepodun, Ifesowapo and Ire-akari—were administered under the name IyaOyewa by IyaOyewa Christian Society so Ifelodun Development Union (IDU) was formed as a vanguard to argue and defend Ifelodun’s interest at the top and also to see to issues of development. When the idea of building a maternity home was brought up by the union, it was allocated to either Ilobi or Araka
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The chiefs gathered very early in the morning to deliberate on the land where the maternity home would be built. They had before chose a land near the entrance of the town via Arimu but it was rejected by the union, they wanted the land on which the sacred Goro tree stood. Onilobi was reluctant to release this land but urgent and decisive decision need be taken for hand must not stay too long in a scorpion’s hole else it gets stung so in the end in consideration for the prospective civilization and benefit that the maternity home would bring and in desperation to outwit Araka, the land was released to the union.
“Anybody who had ever taken his wife to Ekikun in Ire-akari before would know how good it is to have a maternity home close to him’’, oloye Osorun was telling another chief.
‘’Yes’’, began the other chief, “the experience is something to be scared of”.
The sacred tree was cut and work began in earnest on the land. The villagers could not believe at first when they heard the story that the tree would be cut.
‘’That is madness’’, said one villager. ‘’ If they have no consideration for their heads they should at least consider that of their families”.
This was meant for the potential cutters of the tree but in the end the tree was cut. Work was going on at a rapid rate on the building and it was getting very close to completion. Few months, the maternity home was commissioned by the president of IDU to the glory of God and benefit of mankind, and benefit of mankind it was for soon, the home began gaining popularity both at Ilobi and in the villages around.
‘’The whiteman is a witch”, said Ola following his wife been delivered of a baby at the maternity home after spending five dreadful days at the traditional delivery home without making any headway. She was wasting away on a mat, beholding her physical remnant carried neither conviction that all would proceed well nor pretence of hope. She was near moribund when taken to the maternity home and few hours thereafter she gave birth to a baby girl. The home did not handle child delivery alone it, among other things, offered first aid in case of injury and emergency, and health counselling. The trouble, indeed—in the words of the villagers—worths the end.
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Olu-Obi festival was approaching quite fast. It appeared to just dawned on the villagers from nowhere (perhaps from somewhere) that the Goro with which the festival was celebrated had had its tree felled and in its place a maternity home was planted. It was then that their eyes opened to the folly of substituting the tree: a supposed old, backward and civilization-retarding entity for a civilizing edifice. The buzz became louder and louder with each passing day bringing closer and closer the month of Olu-Obi festival. When the festival was few weeks away the chief priest of Olu-Obi visited the palace...
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THE KOLA-NUT TREE
Ifelodun comprised of Erimo, Araka, Ilobi, Ilase and Arimu. These five small villages were in the time past put together under the name Ifelodun by the Christian Society. Ifelodun herself was part of another league of towns—each comprising of small villages. The bigger towns—Ifelodun, Irepodun, Ifesowapo and Ire-akari—were administered under the name IyaOyewa by IyaOyewa Christian Society so Ifelodun Development Union (IDU) was formed as a vanguard to argue and defend Ifelodun’s interest at the top and also to see to issues of development. When the idea of building a maternity home was brought up by the union, it was allocated to either Ilobi or Araka
******************************
The chiefs gathered very early in the morning to deliberate on the land where the maternity home would be built. They had before chose a land near the entrance of the town via Arimu but it was rejected by the union, they wanted the land on which the sacred Goro tree stood. Onilobi was reluctant to release this land but urgent and decisive decision need be taken for hand must not stay too long in a scorpion’s hole else it gets stung so in the end in consideration for the prospective civilization and benefit that the maternity home would bring and in desperation to outwit Araka, the land was released to the union.
“Anybody who had ever taken his wife to Ekikun in Ire-akari before would know how good it is to have a maternity home close to him’’, oloye Osorun was telling another chief.
‘’Yes’’, began the other chief, “the experience is something to be scared of”.
The sacred tree was cut and work began in earnest on the land. The villagers could not believe at first when they heard the story that the tree would be cut.
‘’That is madness’’, said one villager. ‘’ If they have no consideration for their heads they should at least consider that of their families”.
This was meant for the potential cutters of the tree but in the end the tree was cut. Work was going on at a rapid rate on the building and it was getting very close to completion. Few months, the maternity home was commissioned by the president of IDU to the glory of God and benefit of mankind, and benefit of mankind it was for soon, the home began gaining popularity both at Ilobi and in the villages around.
‘’The whiteman is a witch”, said Ola following his wife been delivered of a baby at the maternity home after spending five dreadful days at the traditional delivery home without making any headway. She was wasting away on a mat, beholding her physical remnant carried neither conviction that all would proceed well nor pretence of hope. She was near moribund when taken to the maternity home and few hours thereafter she gave birth to a baby girl. The home did not handle child delivery alone it, among other things, offered first aid in case of injury and emergency, and health counselling. The trouble, indeed—in the words of the villagers—worths the end.
******************************
Olu-Obi festival was approaching quite fast. It appeared to just dawned on the villagers from nowhere (perhaps from somewhere) that the Goro with which the festival was celebrated had had its tree felled and in its place a maternity home was planted. It was then that their eyes opened to the folly of substituting the tree: a supposed old, backward and civilization-retarding entity for a civilizing edifice. The buzz became louder and louder with each passing day bringing closer and closer the month of Olu-Obi festival. When the festival was few weeks away the chief priest of Olu-Obi visited the palace...
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After the ritual of salutation and greeting and obeissance the chief priest went straight to the point.
“Olu-Obi festival is coming my lord, you know it is the thing that brings the people together to rejoice and do homage to their ancestors. The town’s people are beginning to say how it will be celebrated. Last year they did not say so if they should suddenly turn round now and begin to ask among themselves how will it be celebrated I will not blame them, you and I know why it is so. The year that came before the last one nobody asked such question, year before, before last year nobody did too and I believe it had been so even before the father that gave birth to my father’s father was given birth to.
‘I was told that then things were not as they are today. Our elders say it is the cloth which fits the time best that one makes for it when you are being beaten by the rain passing urine on your body is not an offence, may be the rain has come on us so we should all be prepared to start letting our urine flow freely down our thighs that is why I come here to take words from you for the head is not shaven without the owner’s consent”.
The king sat amused and confused, albeit seemingly unpertubed.
“I quite understood what you have said but one thing confused me. What role do you want me to play? You are the chief priest so I do not need to remind you how Olu-Obi is celebrated. When you are made the kite you should be competent to snatch a child-fowl from its mother’s back”.
The chief priest waited patiently and let him finished. His eyes seemed to recede even more into their sockets, he frowned with menace written all over his face. Some time passed before he spoke this time, his face had brightened up a bit he stroked the portion of his head that had hairs and let off a grin. Onilobi sat even more puzzled.
“You asked me where you come in and I will tell you. You see, everything that breathes, even those that do not breathe, knows that Goro is used to celebrate Olu-Obi in this town now that you have replaced the tree with something more interesting, I come to ask you what you want us to use to celebrate this year’s festival”.
The king’s face clouded immediately. He did not talk for some time when he finally spoke it was not to the chief priest. He called one of the palace messengers and instructed him to summon the town’s people immediately.
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“So that is it?” Alagba Kusoro asked his eldest son.
“Yes father”.
Alagba Kusoro was the oldest person in the whole IyaOyewa he had the history of not one but nearly all the towns that made up IyaOyewa at the tip of his fingers. No single hair was left on his head and his eyes appeared to peep at things from a very narrow broomstick-girth-sized hole that was his eye sockets. His skin was wrinkled in tens places.
“So people have now gone into the forest to search for Goro tree?”
“That is so father and I am going to join them”
“That is good but before you go sit down and let me tell you few things about Ilobi”. ...
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The young man sat down. He listened only with his ears, his mind had gone very far.
“Before houses were as many as they are now in Ilobi, when my father was not yet born; then, when people were free to move as they liked without fear of being kidnapped, as we have today; when you could be rest assured that your tubers were safe in the heaps and barns and as it was the last time you visited your farm; then, when one could be sure to be the first and the only one to pluck the fruit from between the thighs of one’s bride, when such virtue had not yet been thrown to the dog; when peace was still peace and only little, very little crime was known, some group of people came and changed the way of our people. Many of the people were not different from our people few of them were different in that they were afin or something close. Then, Olu-Obi was celebrated with Obi¬¬—the real kola-nut, not Goro—its slave and that was where the name of the festival came from Olu-Obi means the owner of Obi. The way it was done was different from what we have today. There was a groove called igbo Olu-Obi it was there that seven virgins—three girls and four boys—were sacrificed to the gods of the land. When those people came, they told us it was bad to sacrifice people to things that neither talk nor eat, they said our ways were bad so they changed everything and our people complied because they had nothing to fight these intruders.
‘The killing of virgins to celebrate Olu-Obi was stopped, they cleared the groove and in its place they built their own shrine where they converged on every eighth days to sing and dance. Singing and dancing, that’s what sacrificed meant to them.
‘Our people have their own dances and songs too and the strangers did not mind these so they allowed them to sing and dance the rest, we were told, were bad. They cut the only obi tree that was in the town and in its place set up a building where they taught our people their own way of doing things. Soon, the white man’s ways began gaining ground.
‘The Onilobi of that time, so that our own way did not die out completely declared the Goro tree, the only one in Ilobi, sacred for celebrating Olu-Obi festival which had been reduced to dancing, singing and rejoicing.
‘When houses began to increase and iron-roofed houses started appearing, our people had become familiar with the white man’s way so much that they were bringing and mingling our ways with the white man’s. It is said that when a leaf stays too long in contact with soap it becomes soapy. Olu-Obi survived all these times and today it stood side-by-side with the white man’s way.
‘The Whiteman’s delivery home is a good thing I have nothing against it but it is equally good that our people do not discard the tradition their fathers passed down to them’’.
Akinkunmi’s face clouded and he appeared to be deep in thought. He shook his head.
‘’I am not stopping you’’, kusoro continued, ‘’no. It is a good thing that we do not forget our root. The river that forgets its root dries up, a ritual performance that children must not attend will sooner or later dies out. I am closer to my ancestors, grey hair will not permit me to go with you. It will be great if you can find the real tree—the kola-nut itself—and not its slave. The little thing which I am capable to offer I have offered. I don’t have much days to live but I am happy I gave you something which my father gave me, which his father gave him and which his father’s fathers gave his fathers before him.
‘I told you that a leaf that contacts soap for long becomes soapy but that does not make the leaf a soap. If it is thoroughly washed with water it looses the soapiness and becomes a leaf again.
‘I am not telling you to go back to the olden, olden days of doing things altogether, no, but again do not forget where you are coming from. I have known good days and I have seen bad days, both the old ways and the Whiteman’s ways of doing things have their good sides, and bad sides too. Go now!...” There was a violent shriek to his voice and fire seemed to shine through his deep-set eyes. “...Go now and rediscover your root!”.
Akinkunmi appeared to discover himself suddenly and jerked to life. He picked his machete from the ground and with steps laddened with urgency and determination exit the house to join his people in the forest.

END.