Rose of Numen

by Olatunde, Biola;

  “Sure,” Babatunde replied, and knew his brother did not want to say anything further about the kingship tussle.

  The tussle had been on for more than six years and he sensed that his brother was bored with the whole thing. The two ruling houses were still fighting over who was to rule the town next and that had generated quite a lot of bad blood with rival supporters of one prince or the other.

  As part of the inner circle of Ifa, Babtunde was banned from taking sides or making comments.

  The procedure was simple: a candidate was expected to be able to trace his lineage and could not be installed if his forbearer did not have a son while on the throne. Every resident had a right to claim the first king as father but these particular gladiators were determined to lay claim to the most popular deceased king, and that had started dissensions. There had been whispers about the paternity of one of them but no one had been brave enough to state who started such a rumor.

  Babatunde had a different tussle on his mind anyway. It was what type of message he was expected to send to the Ifa circle of which he had been made the young Lion. He had a problem with the timing and date. However he knew he would be the one to find time to go.

  He took Tope shopping and drove him to the garage so his brother could return to the village before nightfall.

  ~~~

  When he got to the office Babatunde went to check if the chief pharmacist was around and was told he would come back in the afternoon as the fellow was in a conference. Babatunde smiled at the secretary and returned to his office. Ngozi asked after his headache and it took him a minute to recollect what she was talking about.

  “Your blank face clearly shows the headache didn’t last long.” She laughed and walked away.

  Minutes later he was immersed in work and it took a while before he noticed Joke, the office girl tapping the side of his desk repeatedly to attract his attention. Babatunde looked up straight into the face of a fairly tall distinguished looking middle-aged man.

  The man smiled and stretched out his hand. “My name is Adewunmi. A friend said I might find you here. I am an accountant, came to make your acquaintance.”

  Babatunde stood up and asked the man to sit, his eyebrows raised. His line of work did not encourage visitors unless they were patients seeking an alternative to a prescribed drug. His visitor didn’t seem to fit into that category.

  “How may I help you?” he asked politely.

  “That will be interesting, don’t you think?” Sasa’s voice floated in and Babatunde was startled. He gave his visitor a closer look and sure enough he saw Sasa’s deep blue eyes smiling at him.

  Babatunde was stunned and stared at his mystic friend. “How did you do that?”

  Sasa grinned and sat down crossing his legs elegantly. “I have to learn how to do this you know. Something is coming up and this fellow whose coat I quickly borrowed will be visiting you in, say, two hours and we felt it was best to warn you ahead.”

  Babatunde stiffened. “Who is this fellow?”

  Sasa coughed and wiped his mouth mimicking the mannerisms of a rich spoilt man. “Eh, he fancies himself as the next king.” Sasa gave a mocking bow. “You know, we have gone so far away from seeking the truth that any type of dross gilded over with yellow paint might be confused as gold.”

  Babatunde laughed out loud not so much for Sasa’s expression but the look of disgust Sasa had on his face. Then he got serious, giving his friend a closer look. “Your eyes will give you away you know if you try this stunt with anybody else. Africans don’t have deep blue eyes.”

  Sasa retorted with spirit, “You haven’t seen all Africans, Fancy Pants.”

  They both laughed.

  “I am intrigued, really. I never thought this was possible. Used to read about our forefathers being able to take up the look and mannerism of somebody else and I was convinced it was an illusion. I called it magic but this is new for me,” Babatunde said.

  “You are actually on a different level you know and your experiences are thus different. The best Babalawo can do may never achieve what is possible, or be able to experience this kind of conscious level you know. Real healing is not just about herbs alone but a combination of all the possibilities open to the human spirit. By the way, ‘spirit’ is the key word. You are wearing a coat that depicts you as Fancy Pants but it is not your real self. And yes, come to think of it, you could call it magic, black magic in the white sense!” He laughed at his own joke.

  Babatunde nodded and stared at nothing in particular; his thoughts swirled and Sasa watched. He gave Sasa a smile. “So, what am I supposed to do when this prince comes in here?”

  Sasa dipped his hand in his pocket and brought out a soft stone wrapped in animal skin. “Let him talk as much as he wants but show him this at the end.”

  Babatunde was mystified and stared at the stone lying in the open palm of Sasa. He stretched out his hand to lift it and was shocked that try as he might, he could not lift it.

  Sasa gave a soft laugh. “Fancy Pants, your education is making you really soft. You know you do not lift things from me without giving me respect!”

  “I…”

  “You must lift the stone with a simple clear mind—that is to say without thinking of it as a stone but as an object.”

  Babatunde did that and he held the stone. He almost dropped it in shock when Sasa mentioned casually that the prayers of the last king had formed what looked like a stone. He had been taught how to use his mind to hold the will of the people. Sasa explained that the stone was then held together by the thoughts of the people.

  “What do you mean thoughts?”

  Sasa groaned and looked out. “I don’t have the time to improve your education, but you know we speak in thoughts—well it will soon be time for our friend to come in. Your office girl is about to have a heart attack because she thinks Prince Adewunmi had already come in here. We will continue this conversation later and, oh, Prince Adewunmi is not really a prince but has been led to think he is one. You will have to learn a few lessons from him.”

  Sasa stood up and adjusted his coat as he walked out. A minute later, a very agitated Joke was hesitantly asking if Babatunde was free to receive a visitor again.

  Since everything was still a puzzle to Babatunde, he simply nodded as he slid the object in his hand to a drawer.

  The man came straight to the reason for his visit. In very precise tones he mentioned his name and why he had come. He wanted to ask for Babatunde’s support in his bid for the throne of the town. Babatunde listened patiently and smiled. He explained to his guest that he was not the one to make the choice but must follow the dictate of the Oracle.

  Prince Adewunmi made a cynical gesture and brought out his checkbook. “Look, my friend, let’s not flog the issue. I understand the price is ten million and because, the way I heard it, you are the chief priest, I will offer fifteen million. That can set up your pharmacy.”

  Babatunde clenched his fist and slowly rose to his feet when he heard Sasa’s sharp cough. He sat down slowly taking deep breaths. He gave a gentle smile and pulled out his drawer and brought forth the stone.

  In the same gentle manner he invited the prince to lift the stone, explaining that there was no need for the money, that if he could lift the stone, the prince was assured of the kingship. That stopped the prince as he stared at the stone, saying nothing. There was some silence as both men stared at the stone, which seemed to gleam.

  Babatunde spoke softly, “Being king is a good thing to aspire to and Ifa chooses what the thoughts of the people have chosen. Why don’t you find out for yourself what that choice is. We consult the Oracle not to thwart but to confirm what will best serve the people. Just lift the stone and I will be sure if you are a potential candidate.”

  Prince Adewunmi stared at the stone for more seconds then stood up abruptly and slammed the door, as he exited the office.

  Babatunde sighed. Was that the real Prince Adewunmi or was Sasa up to his tricks again? He ha
d never really been sure and a sense of irritation went through his being just wondering. However if Sasa knew what the question was, he was keeping silent as well.

  For all I know the last visitor could still be you checking up on me, eh Fancy Pants?

  Chapter Four

  Going home to visit was becoming a trip Ife dreaded. She sensed very strongly that her grandma was close to departing and she felt saddened by it but also knew that there was very little she could do. She had tried on a number of occasions to sense if her grandma understood about passing and what was to happen immediately after. It was not a conversation she could initiate, yet a sense of the urgency of the matter kept her awake most nights.

  Today, as she went into the compound, she saw a Misty sitting patiently by the door. By the color of his wings she knew he was one of the service types. His wings were in variations of green and was tinted with soft hues of violet. He walked over and she smiled. “Visiting or working?” she asked.

  “Hello Numen, I am standing on service for Raingirl.”

  Ife was intrigued. “Really? So she is Raingirl. How appropriate hence she is the priestess for rain here.”

  The Misty smiled. “Yes Numen, she is Raingirl and she has been a very effective one too.”

  Ife laughed out loud. “Just imagine that.”

  “But you knew all along, yes?”

  Ife shook her head as her eyes danced in good humor. “No I didn’t, just thought of her as a very nice lovable grandma. How long is she staying before you have to go with her?”

  “I have no idea, just got instructions to be on standby.”

  “Yes of course, how remiss of me.”

  The Misty smiled and went back to his watch while Ife turned to go inside. That was when she knew she was being observed and turned slowly to see her mother watching. This time there was none of the confused bitterness of the old, just a quiet acceptance of Ife.

  Her mother had also sensed something as she had moved grandma to her personal side of the house insisting grandma needed close care now. Ife went over and smiled, curtseying to her mom. They were not close, and not likely to be, but there was less rancor now between them. They shared the odd confidences and would generally sit out together in the evenings to discuss village politics and stories. Ife becoming a medical doctor had pleased her mother. Ife noticed that her mother would tell her friends who came for prayer consultations that what she was prescribed had Ife’s approval.

  “Hello, Mother, you look well.”

  Her mother smiled. “I feel well, Ife, how was your trip?”

  Ife shrugged. “That road is still terrible and I wonder why they still think we are part of the country.”

  Her mother chuckled. “You don’t look like a militant, my dear, else I would have joined the movement to ask the government to do something about the road. Nobody comes home anymore. The road is too risky to travel on.”

  Ife nodded in agreement and went into the common sitting room. Grandma was sitting there, almost bent over now with age but still able to smile in recognition. Ife knelt down properly and gave her grandma an affectionate hug.

  “How is my favorite girl?” Ife teased.

  Grandma chuckled and placed a hand on Ife’s shoulder. “Nice to see you home, Ife.”

  “Have you been a good girl while I was away?” Ife asked, pretending to be stern and Grandma laughed.

  ~~~

  Later in the evening Ife sat out with Grandma and watched young girls telling the usual tales. Ife remembered a few years back when she had listened to those same tales, and her confusion about her own origins. She listened to the tales now but her thoughts were more on her friend Tinu and the confusion of Tinu’s emotions. She had hesitated about visiting this evening, just sending a young half-sister to take care of the things she had bought for Tinu and her children instead. There were four of them now and most times Ife could not tell who was who among the children. Tinu seemed restless now that she had stopped breeding.

  “You know what to do when I depart, don’t you?” Grandma said, and Ife was jerked into the present. Startled by the abruptness of that quiet voice she spun round to stare at her grandma.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I am not some curio you put out in the sun to dry out, I will leave sometime and I think very soon,” Grandma snapped.

  Ife nodded. “But you will have to sort out the kingship tussle before you go.” Ife had said this without thinking and shuddered knowing she had spoken as Numen.

  “I have been relieved of that since you came round; you as Numen will have to approve the new king and even bless him. That is all I am permitted to tell you, girl,” Grandma replied softly.

  Most times now Ife’s personalities and experiences merged. It no longer shocked nor frightened her but she knew she had to consciously separate the two personalities that lived within her. Her grandma was still talking.

  “Promise you are not going to put me on ice while you look for ways to waste your money in the name of funeral rites. My funeral will be taken care of appropriately,” Grandma said firmly and they both turned round startled by the wail of Ife’s mother who had overheard the comments. Grandma was not impressed and sniffed wondering what kind of religion her daughter practiced that made the thought of death so terrifying.

  “Timor mortis conturbat me,” Ife whispered softly, and grandma raised her eyebrows asking if Ife now spoke in tongues. Ife shook her head but accepted that she would be sad at the departure of her grandma.

  “You know I kind of like you and will miss you; will I know when you have passed? Will you inform me somehow?”

  Grandma shrugged. “It will be a new and old experience, Ife. I wouldn’t know what would happen until I get there will I? However I do know what the process will be here. Just watch and allow the tradition to fulfill itself. There will be no need for you to be scared.”

  They were both silent each with their private thoughts and simply did not attempt to explain anything to Ife’s mother.

  For the first time ever, Ife was given a peep into Raingirl’s world and she saw a very beautiful and lively girl with blue flowers in hair that fell in long lustrous waves. Her eyes were the color of rain and they had a merry twinkle in them. Ife was entranced. She smiled, then still in that frame, she told Raingirl how beautiful she was. Raingirl laughed and curtsied.

  You are very young, aren’t you?

  Yes, Numen, I am, but then I am your grandma over there. I am looking forward to leaving.

  I can see that.

  Jasmine is in good hands, Princess.

  Thanks, you will know where you are headed?

  I am sure I will get help, Princess.

  Have a safe trip and oh, do visit if and when you can.

  Raingirl laughed pointing out that Numen just got permission or else they wouldn’t be communicating now. Numen thanked her and expressed her appreciation for all that she has done. The experience faded and Ife was startled into the present by the call of Tinu from the door. Grandma stood up and quietly went to her room.

  The next day Ife returned to town knowing she had taken formal leave of her grandmother. She knew within her that she would not see her in the physical again. It was kind of sad and at the same time comforting that the right thing in terms of burial will be carried out.

  A week later Grandma passed. A masqueraded figure dragging a long stick wailed into town. The keen was followed by thunderclaps, lightning and a fierce storm that soon settled into a gentle drizzle. Old women of grandma’s age group came in to the house and started hitting on small drums as they started a dirge. The women did not cry, just traced the story of Grandma, what she had done for the village. Younger women came with big bowls of bean cakes that they had fried and put in front of the ladies. Old men who had been hunters also came. They did not shoot in the air but raised their fist up, feet together, and gave a thunderous one-word salute—“AKE!”

  Ife watched all the ceremonies, intrigued, as Grandma
was laid out in her room, a single white native cloth over her and the small gong placed on her chest.

  The whole town was ready to bid the chief priestess goodbye. They commented on the power of Yeye Agba, how she had helped the women of the town as well as gently guided the kings and chiefs in making wise choices. They said her priesthood had helped the town and wondered who was going to be the next priestess. Ife was intrigued by all the stories. Her mother, between tears, talked about Grandma always being able to bring rain anytime there was a severe drought.

  One old woman seemed particularly upset about Grandma’s passing and Ife recognized her as the most constant visitor to her grandma. Ife estimated her to be in her nineties. There was a sudden stir as the symbol of the king was brought in, led by a retinue of white clad chiefs who looked very solemn. Ife watched them wondering if they knew what they had to do. They came into the room that grandma was laid and sat quietly in a semi-circle. Bowls of kolanut were brought, one of the chiefs said a few words, made some circular movements with the kolanut in his hand, and put it on the floor with his hands covering it. The men all stood up and in one voice thundered the one word greeting again. Somebody brought in a gourd of foaming palm wine and poured it into individual calabash bowls. The apparent chief officer stood up and invited grandma to drink with them. They delivered the king’s message in a long song.

  Ife, who was almost hidden in a corner where she sat, felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise at the song. But which king are they talking about? There is no king now.

  She wondered at the meaning of the song as she could not make out the words. She sensed it was a death song, a kind of release from death into another existence, and sure enough she saw the rising form of Raingirl and saw the Misty holding her hand as Raingirl floated out of the room. The song seemed to float away too and Ife knew the funeral was complete. She was awed. It was a funeral service like no other she had ever seen and it seemed very peaceful.