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FROM TRIBUNE NEWSPAPER
No farewells, Ooni never dies
Written by:
Vera Onana
TOWARDS
the tail end of the seventh month of 2015, a howling wind from alien
shores swept across Yoruba land and on its wings perched forbidden
whispers. Words that should never be heard, words that should never be
spoken were carelessly being disseminated by that abominable Albion wind
which threw the Yoruba race into a state of epic fidgeting, a
similitude of which was experienced over three decades ago. However, the
intensity of this tumultuous, careless whisper, carried by the alien
wind, was most fatal in the heart of the cradle of the Yoruba people,
Ile-Ife.
The words which should never be spoken had been broken wantonly, consequently, repercussions were evoked. It was evident in the sky that spread majestically over Ile-Ife that tradition had been defied. There was a transmogrification in the ambience of the little town. The sun hid its face within dark clouds, not sure if she would shine in all her beauty. Intermittently however, she would peep from within the clouds and a dull hue of her brilliance will cocoon the little city.
The atmosphere was saturated with water but the rain wavered between coming forth in its torrential magnitude and simply just letting down tiny drops that can be likened to the intensity of liquid flow in a drip set up. In the corners of the streets lurked mystery and a whimsical breeze that would set the hairs on a mortal’s spine at attention.
The Odo-Ogbe, a quintessential modern day market, normally characterised by enormous noise and insanity, was on the contrary being as quiet as the interior of an ancient tomb. Ironically, while children in their innocence went about their businesses in status quo, fathers and mothers were fretting, seeking desperately for a confirmation of the obnoxious tiding that had emanated from the shore of Thames. They besieged the walls of the ancient palace with questions but only if walls could talk.
On Tuesday, 11 August 2015, confirmation came riding on the back of the white horse of the Royal Traditional Council of Ile-Ife, galloping through the cradle with exigency. Every man, woman and child, indigene and non-indigene must be told of the inevitable traditional rites that would commence momentarily. As the royal emissary rode through the town in strides that could be seen by the blind, he cried out in a shrill that could not be ignored by the deaf, breaking the news. The great king of the cradle, the first of all the deities of Yoruba land, who sits on the imperial stool of Ooni, has fallen asleep and must be gracefully assisted in dumping his cloak of mortality for one which supersedes it.
So on Wednesday, 12 August, the Odo-Ogbe market was shut down; as a matter of fact, the ancient city was on lockdown in preparation for an epic event that would go down in the history of Yoruba land. His imperial majesty, Oba Okunade Sijuwade Olubuse II, the 50th Ooni of Ife, after almost four decades of sitting on the Oduduwa throne, would be transiting into immortality.
The Oro cult, took to the streets of Ife to perform the Oro rites, a necessary tradition in the series of others that would culminate in the transition of the highly revered king to the place of his ancestors. The Awara of Ifewara, head of the Oro cult, made a prior declaration forbidding every resident of the ancient city, irrespective of their gender, to stay out of sight in honour of tradition while the Oro procession took place.
On Friday, 14 August 2015, the Arole Oduduwa, the royal eagle, took its flight towards immortality and the great Iroko disappeared from the forest of ordinary men. Accolades came sprawling in like ants from a gargantuan broken anthill. Eulogies saturated the dark clouds and dirges of bards rendered a riveting rhythm, one that had never been heard in history, to the ancient town.
To these elegies danced dignitaries from across the nation, be they a part of the Yoruba nation or not. Elder statesmen, politicians, lawmakers, monarchs, educationists all in awe, danced to the rhythm that filled Ile-Ife with melody as the Arole Oduduwa was escorted to immortality.
Man’s infallibility is simply a myth, but the ultimate immortality of one who has sat on the stool of Ooni in Yoruba land cannot be argued over. Though it seems to the ordinary that the Ooni is no more, those who see with traction from the spirits will tell most assuredly that Arole Oduduwa has moved onto a higher pedestal and now sits on the throne of immortality with his ancestors.
Kabiyesi, Oba Alayeluwa has fallen asleep, for when ordinary men fall, it is described as death, but when the king lands softly on his royal back, it is simply sleep, which is a necessary portal through which he must pass to get to another realm of royalty. Oba Okunade Sijuwade, Olubuse II has embarked on the journey of immortality and so we must felicitate, for the Ooni never dies.
The words which should never be spoken had been broken wantonly, consequently, repercussions were evoked. It was evident in the sky that spread majestically over Ile-Ife that tradition had been defied. There was a transmogrification in the ambience of the little town. The sun hid its face within dark clouds, not sure if she would shine in all her beauty. Intermittently however, she would peep from within the clouds and a dull hue of her brilliance will cocoon the little city.
The atmosphere was saturated with water but the rain wavered between coming forth in its torrential magnitude and simply just letting down tiny drops that can be likened to the intensity of liquid flow in a drip set up. In the corners of the streets lurked mystery and a whimsical breeze that would set the hairs on a mortal’s spine at attention.
The Odo-Ogbe, a quintessential modern day market, normally characterised by enormous noise and insanity, was on the contrary being as quiet as the interior of an ancient tomb. Ironically, while children in their innocence went about their businesses in status quo, fathers and mothers were fretting, seeking desperately for a confirmation of the obnoxious tiding that had emanated from the shore of Thames. They besieged the walls of the ancient palace with questions but only if walls could talk.
On Tuesday, 11 August 2015, confirmation came riding on the back of the white horse of the Royal Traditional Council of Ile-Ife, galloping through the cradle with exigency. Every man, woman and child, indigene and non-indigene must be told of the inevitable traditional rites that would commence momentarily. As the royal emissary rode through the town in strides that could be seen by the blind, he cried out in a shrill that could not be ignored by the deaf, breaking the news. The great king of the cradle, the first of all the deities of Yoruba land, who sits on the imperial stool of Ooni, has fallen asleep and must be gracefully assisted in dumping his cloak of mortality for one which supersedes it.
So on Wednesday, 12 August, the Odo-Ogbe market was shut down; as a matter of fact, the ancient city was on lockdown in preparation for an epic event that would go down in the history of Yoruba land. His imperial majesty, Oba Okunade Sijuwade Olubuse II, the 50th Ooni of Ife, after almost four decades of sitting on the Oduduwa throne, would be transiting into immortality.
The Oro cult, took to the streets of Ife to perform the Oro rites, a necessary tradition in the series of others that would culminate in the transition of the highly revered king to the place of his ancestors. The Awara of Ifewara, head of the Oro cult, made a prior declaration forbidding every resident of the ancient city, irrespective of their gender, to stay out of sight in honour of tradition while the Oro procession took place.
On Friday, 14 August 2015, the Arole Oduduwa, the royal eagle, took its flight towards immortality and the great Iroko disappeared from the forest of ordinary men. Accolades came sprawling in like ants from a gargantuan broken anthill. Eulogies saturated the dark clouds and dirges of bards rendered a riveting rhythm, one that had never been heard in history, to the ancient town.
To these elegies danced dignitaries from across the nation, be they a part of the Yoruba nation or not. Elder statesmen, politicians, lawmakers, monarchs, educationists all in awe, danced to the rhythm that filled Ile-Ife with melody as the Arole Oduduwa was escorted to immortality.
Man’s infallibility is simply a myth, but the ultimate immortality of one who has sat on the stool of Ooni in Yoruba land cannot be argued over. Though it seems to the ordinary that the Ooni is no more, those who see with traction from the spirits will tell most assuredly that Arole Oduduwa has moved onto a higher pedestal and now sits on the throne of immortality with his ancestors.
Kabiyesi, Oba Alayeluwa has fallen asleep, for when ordinary men fall, it is described as death, but when the king lands softly on his royal back, it is simply sleep, which is a necessary portal through which he must pass to get to another realm of royalty. Oba Okunade Sijuwade, Olubuse II has embarked on the journey of immortality and so we must felicitate, for the Ooni never dies.
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