Orunmila, the Yorubas ancient deity, sit still within the flushing greenery of the crusty hills of Olota in Ado-Ekiti – a green bottle with most of the content gone, fading before him.
I first saw the picture when the handsome Jamaica, son of the very brilliant Prof Rasaki Ojo Bakare sent it to me by what’s app. He stood very proudly by the stone works with a group of tourists and I knew I had to see the thing myself.
Prior to this Prof Ojo Bakare had told me a lot about the Yoruba gods. He told me the story of Sango explaining how he fled across the River Niger and all of that. The story of the yoruba gods which he explained where actual people who did phenomenal things caught my very attention in a way that I could not inagine.
I love the Yoruba traditional system. It’s turgidity making it withstand the stress of the centuries, resisting the watering down effect that comes with interferance from other cultures and it’s exposure to so called modern influences.
The other day, I was at the Alake of Egbaland’s palace and although I wasn’t that impressed with it’s neatness, the beautiful display of so many figurines representing these wonderful gods made me smile with pride.
So I landed Ekiti for Fajuyi and Jamaica landed with his brother the equally handsome Jide Fajuyi and we were ready for the expedition.
I couldn’t wait for the morning movement and throughout the Play, I was just wondering how come the Yorubas not only have preserved their culture and religion but have attained a strict homogeneity in its passage over centuries.
All Yoruba believe in Ile Ife and the supremacy of Oduduwa. You get an almost uniformity in the story of Orunmila and all other gods and you begin to marvel.
As a student of history, I had heard of Orunmila’s progenity, His decision to live on the Olota Mountain for over 400years, the strain in his relationship with his neighbours which led him to leave and later come back to the mountain as his final resting place.
Jamaica the previous night had sent me a list of things I would need for the hike. He asked me to come with extra clothes, hiking shoes and must not litter the trail.
We were ready. We got to the summit of the mountain and he did a quick recee. His team was ready they were three and were 8 making us 11.
They had walkie talkies and I had refused to pay for the trail to be cleared, a decision I regretted because of the bush that almost truncated our movement.
Jamaica the leader of the team now brought out hot gin in a pack and gave me to say the initial prayers and give libation to the gods. I did, he poured it in my palms and asked me to rub it, I did it and we moved.
As we moved, I saw a church on the foot of the mountain and the contradiction of it all made me smile.
The trial was treacherous, the bush path had been covered by the rain although the little stream in the path had dried up. Jamaica continued to communicate with Jide who as at the end of the trail with us in between them but not seeing either of them.
The cackle from the walkie talkies giving me confidence that one Yoruba monkey will not suddenly jump out and eat my head. I asked for snakes as we got to a point where the bush had but swallowed us all up as we could no longer see our heads any more.
They explained that by this time, all animals would have rushed away since we were not in their food chain. I really hoped so cos I had seen documentary where the animals being very territorial would attack or a jealous monkey seeing a very handsome Duke approach and fearing the lose of his wife would now attack.
We needn’t worry as we saw no animal, not even a rodent except for a battalion of soldier ants who went about their business and gave us a guard of honour as we moved along the trial.
Finally after about one hour we came upon the statue. It was magnificent in its age. It was carved out of a stone. It is an ifa priest sat in the way those priests in my plays sit.
I recognise it cos I have seen the ifa priest in Aremu, in Fajuyi, in Isale Eko and in almost all of my Yoruba plays, pushing the very importance of the Ifa priest as the core of the Yoruba socio-cultural , political and religious structure.
There was a circle in front of him and in between his legs and he had a cap on. The type that would fall to one side of his head.
Jamaica now told us his story and also poured libation around him. He said he was a god of peace, unity and Justice. He explained that the Ifa religion started from here and that once a year Ifa adherents came there to worship and pay obiseance.
He took a bottle of Schnapps – which I still don’t understand how the drink now came to be the drink of the gods. But make I mind my business– prayed over it, turned it around Orunmila’s head and poured the drink all over him and kissed his forehead.
Handed over the bottle to Jide who is Fajuyi’s grandson who did the same thing and told me that Fajuyi was actually shortened from ifajuyigbe and handed the bottle over to me.
I said to Orunmila, I have come to ask for National Unity on the back of the sacrifice his son Adekunle Fajuyi made for the country. I told him to knock the head of not only his sons who were fighting against national unity but to also reach out to his colleagues in other tribes to assist him in knocking the heads of their own children who were also working against Nigeria for personal gain.
I poured the drink all over him and placed it in between his legs and kissed his forehead and smiled.. I liked that.. I liked the sense of calm that pervaded me Immediately after and at the end, I asked Jamaica if I was now an Ifa worshipper.
He laughed and said its like him vsiting my church and giving offering, did that make him a member of the church and I got it.
He then said we should continue on the trail to the highest peak so we could see Ado Ekiti in all of its splendour. This was the most treacherous part of the hike, since it was made up of steep rock faces that could pull you down and make you tumble into the dense forest below.
Our brother Ifeanyi by this time, begged to be allowed to stay with Orunmila while we continued.
Goddddd! the site was beautiful, the air fresh making us drunk with excitement. By this time Jide brought out his stereo and started hitting us with Fela Kuti and we broke into dance and merry as our Mopol looked on in amazement.
We could see all of Ado including the Governors magnificent abode. Jamaica went into spiritual Yoga and we went into a photo taking frenzy.
It was now time to rush to the water fall they had just discovered along the beautiful express way that led to Lagos.
It was dense foliage. More treacherous than Orunmila’s trail and even me gave up. Jamaica urged us on but ifeanyi and our pilot stayed back. This was for men.
Our diligent security released a volley to scare away any animals as the forest was really thick. I wanted to give up, but the sounds of the splashing falls pulling me to it.
Finally after another thirty minutes of pushing into the forest we saw it. I felt like David Livingston. It was small but very exclusive. The water was fresh and inviting, cold and healing. Pristine and clear and Jamaica jumped in and I jumped in and Nelson jumped in and the beautiful girl from Rivers jumped in and Duchess drank the water.
I didn’t want to come out again o as the water hit my skin with the smooth alluring caress only an experienced damsel with pointed Nipples can manage.
After 39 minutes, we drove into Ekiti for a well deserved round of pounded yam and egusi soup garnished with a slew of meat that made me promptly forget doctors orders.
You should all visit Ekiti and see all their mountains, caves, trails and the people.
I enjoyed myself.
– Duke of Shomolu ( Joseph Edgar )
