Rose of Numen

by Olatunde, Biola;

  “One of the princes that are with you has a reason to complete a circle but he is not your king. Also, Ifa says that not all the princes that have incarnated here on Earth are present. There is one whose circle has opened for a fulfillment and his time is now. This is what has happened. Close your eyes so you may see the truth.”

  Babatunde closed his eyes.

  He was in a palace divining for a dying king. The king was talking in faint whispers so he had to lean over to listen. The king explained to him that the wrongs done to a strange visitor had to be corrected.

  The king wheezed. “When Ifa predicted I was going to depart in great pain, that my reign was going to be short lived, I was very upset and asked what I could do, so we decided to buy a life. I asked my son to discretly find a woman I can make pregnant but he was not to search amongst the slaves but a female amongst the simple folk. In order to avoid a scandal I had her brought to the palace in the night. She slept over so my part could mingle with hers. When she woke, she was not sure what had happened and kept quiet.

  “I realized the mistake I made when we noticed that the woman’s husband had gone to war for me and was therefore not available to pin the resulting pregnancy on him. He came back three months later and immediately noticed what was wrong because we had used our magical powers to put the woman in a deep sleep so I could lay with her. He brought the matter to a head when he chased her out of the house and she ran to the palace for help.

  “I granted her asylum in the palace. I had begun to like her a lot even though she never knew what we had been doing to her under the power of the drug. She had a son and we marked the child down for the appropriate sacrifice so we could buy more time for me. I was not supposed to lie with her again, but I could not help it. The child was to be sacrificed early dawn so I wanted to do one last thing because I felt sorry for her. That night while still under sleep she abruptly woke up and saw me. I was alarmed and quickly called the priest who tried to put her back to sleep but the damage was done. So we seized her voice and took the son away.

  “The priest never came back and the rotting disease started. I would see rotten blood and smell it over me. I could not ascertain what happened to that child till today.”

  Babatunde was impassive as he listened to the story, but there was pain in his heart. He knew that was the riddle of the boy his Princess had befriended, Kunle. So the boy had been intended for sacrifice but how had he escaped? What was the meaning of the blood in the story? The old king coughed again. Babatunde could see he was ready to go but was held back by his guilt. He knew now there was a connection between the boy and Prince Adewunmi but did not know yet what it was. He knew he would be shown the connection in good time.

  By the dictates of his community Prince Adewunmi would have to prove his lineage as a prince. Sasa gave a satisfied grunt and told Babatunde that unless a ritual of forgiveness was done Adewunmi will never be able to sit on a throne.

  Babatunde sat in stunned shock when the same lady he had seen on his travels in the other realm approached him. He had suspected that she might have been his mother but the woman smiled and shook her head; obviously, she had picked up his thoughts. He became wary as she approached.

  She stood inches from his face and placed the bowl of water she was carrying down before him. “Take a drink for your journey is a long one and you may still have to defend your right to love the Princess. You will need to be swift and patient for the feathered queen of the wolf-men is determined that the union will not hold and has decided to sow confusion into the hearts of men gathered.”

  “Queen of the wolf-men?”

  “Drink the water.”

  Babatunde made to drink and suddenly stopped. Everything around him went still. He looked up—the picture was changing. Babatunde fell violently sick.

  He jerked his hand out of the grasp of the old man and fell on his face exhausted and weakened.

  Babatunde awoke in his room under the glare of his mother, who appeared to have been crying. She drew in her breath sharply. He croaked a desire for water and she rushed out to fetch it just as Ife walked in. She silently held his hand while he stared at her uncomprehending for some seconds. Ife accepted the bowl of water his mother brought, sprinkled his face with it and then gave him the water to drink. There was no need for words. They both knew Babatunde would be alright now.

  Ife continued to hold his hand and finally Babatunde slept.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ife watched the young women and their rapt faces. She decided to teach them a different way today. She was beginning to look forward to these village sessions. It was getting fuller each time she came around.

  “Let me tell you a story—it will explain something you need to know and come to terms with. It is the missing knot—you can’t make a wrap tie well if you just wrap it round your body—it needs the knot.

  “In the mists of the history of our race, a king was supposed to perform in a festival. He was no longer very strong and he was worried that if he did not perform none of his children would be allowed to set foot on the soil nor be buried in the king’s burial courtyard.”

  Ife looked at the faces of the young girls sitting around. She had dispensed with telling tales that amused her when she was young and had decided to find ways to reach the minds of the young girls and give them dreams that they would be able to want to emulate. The young girls liked her and she wanted to use the affection in a positive way. When she had first started speaking to them, she had been shy herself but the impulse to help was too much for her to ignore.

  A girl coughed and blinked and Ife knew her mind was drifting, so she coughed herself and made dramatic faces. The girls laughed.

  “If no one gets the moral at the end of the story I am going to seize the pounded yam meant for that girl and add it on to mine.”

  The girls watched her slim figure and laughed.

  “So,” Ife continued, “the king thought very hard and called his chief priest to ask him if he knew the day that was set aside for the celebration of woman. The chief priest was stunned and stared at his king wondering if his majesty had bought it finally.”

  The rapt girls looked at each other in surprise as well.

  “The king was upset that his chief priest did not know the date that woman was to have a festival so he told his priest the story that Olodumare had given him. Here is the story.

  “Long ago when the world was just a baby, and it needed help, Olodumare invited the seven important Orisas to manage the affairs of the world for him as He was very busy with all His other creations. He told them they were to head for the garden of creation and manage Earth. He said they could make it their home and he was going to give them a real helper who will tell all the secrets of the Earth. He admonished the men to pay attention to all the lead Orisa will tell them to do and Olodumare then pointed to the only woman amongst them.

  “The Orisas were disappointed and when they got to the gardens of creation they ignored the woman and went about the business of maintaining the gardens. She sat quietly by the corner and watched the men. After a while, the men became frustrated and could not get anything right so they decided to return to Olodumare and expressed their concerns. He listened to their moans and complaints and asked them quietly if they had sought the advice and counsel of the woman he gave them to lead them. They sniffed and said they didn’t like the fact that she had been given all the secrets—after all she is just a woman, and was not strong enough to do the manly tasks that Olodumare had given them. Her name was Oseitura.

  “Olodumare smiled and told them that the very help that would lighten their stress was Oseitura. He asked them to returns to the gardens, and seek to protect her, uphold her as she carried the secret of the flame and would make fire for them. He said if they gave her love and respect she would light the flame, keep it, and it will illuminate the way back to His gardens for them.

  “The men returned to the gardens of creation and followed the instruction of Olo
dumare and the gardens of creation began to prosper. Oseitura kept the flame burning so that when the men needed to go further afield, it was the flame of Oseitura that guided them home. Things went that way for a long time until Esu asked to come to the garden and help in the work.

  Ife stopped to remind the girls of the story’s purpose. “Each one of you is a woman and you carry that secret flame that you must light in every man. It is not enough to climb the hill of chastity, but must light the flame for the very fact that you are budding womanhood. That is your primary assignment. You know our mothers say that the success or otherwise of the home lies in the woman. You must not have two left feet.”

  “That was when the men devised a plan to take the flame from Oseitura and handed fear to her. For the first time, her children were sacrificed and strife of the seven tails came to stay.”

  There was silence amongst the girls and then Ife smiled as one girl said very shyly that the pounded yam that was kept for her had been eaten. It was the official closing of every tale.

  The hunters’ gong sounded the first warning and they reluctantly rose to go to bed. Ife knew she would be peppered by questions and felt exhilarated. She prayed that one soul at the very least would receive the seed she had planted.

  Someone coughed and Ife turned to see Babamogba give her a smile of approval. She curtseyed and the old man nodded.

  “Emi lale a gbe o,” he said, which meant ‘may the spirit of the land be with you’.

  ~~~

  Yomi and Ife sat across the table in the restaurant enjoying their drinks; Ife had a glass of fruit juice while Yomi was sipping coffee.

  Yomi said, “I am really curious, how did you know about Wura?”

  “We are not back in that thread are we? You can be tenacious.”

  Yomi chuckled. “That is why I am a lawyer; fact, verifiable facts. Read somewhere it is called ESP.” Ife groaned and he laughed. “Okay. Do you still experience déjà vu about certain things?”

  “That is a big word,” she said.

  He squinted his eyes and leaned over. “I suspect you are not letting on about a lot of things and I assumed we were friends.”

  “Ergh, when did I tell you we were friends?” Ife demanded, but she kept a smile on her face.

  Yomi studied her for a while and all the jest was gone. “Thank you for bringing Wura back into my life. She is not talking much, didn’t even know she had a child until you told me.”

  “Yeah, and she thinks I am a witch.”

  “I really can’t blame her. You do have the knack of saying the damnest things and you claim it is out of the blue.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t seem to like it,” Yomi said.

  “Doctor, may I come to your church? Will you like to ask me? Or will you like to watch me with fear as your Wura does now and she stands protectively holding on to Kunle?” Ife asked with asperity.

  Yomi turned remorseful. “I didn’t think she would take that line. I thought she would be pleased like me.”

  “Well, just get on with your lives okay?”

  “Looks like you are upset.”

  “Not really. I just sometimes get irritated when people react to me negatively. I only wanted to be useful.”

  “But you are,” Yomi quickly assured her, looking so contrite that Ife had to smile.

  “I accept people not understanding me but I mean no harm. Your Wura is very suspicious of me and that hurts,” Ife said in a small voice. She shrugged, trying to smile. “I like your son, we are friends you know. He comes to my office sometimes. He has a beautiful mind.”

  Yomi took a deep breath and shook his head. “You are the one with a beautiful mind. I am going to ask Wura to marry me tonight. Do you think she will agree?”

  Ife laughed out loud and it sounded like the tinkling of crystal beads.

  Yomi stared, entranced, then quickly announced that if he didn’t know that Ife’s affection was already engaged he would change his mind and marry her pronto and drive her to his village.

  Ife chuckled and said she was going to tell Wura that and maybe it would make her really jealous and make her say yes.

  The rest of the time passed happily.

  ~~~

  Later in the evening as Ife went off her shift she met the auxiliary nurse attached to her clinic sleeping in a corner on rags. It was a cold evening and the poor lady shivered in her thin clothes. Ife was shocked and asked why she had not gone home. Then she saw with shock that the woman had been crying. Her eyes were swollen. She sat on the cold pavement and asked her why she had not gone home. Teeth chattering, the woman said she had been sleeping in any corner of the hospital she could find in the past one month. Ife was shocked.

  “What is your name?”

  “Er. I am simply referred to as Iya Dekunle.”

  “Okay, so what do you mean you have been sleeping here in the past one month; what happened to your former home?”

  Iya Dekunle spread her hands wide and shrugged explaining that her daughter-in-law had sent her out of the house. Ife was puzzled and asked for further explanation. In halting dialect, Iya Dekunle explained that she had been living with her son for the last couple of years. However it appeared she was not on very good terms with her daughter-in-law saying she was being used as an unpaid nanny.

  From the stories, Ife gathered that mutual resentment had come to a head when the head of the house, that is the son, went on a workshop conference and the daughter-in-law had refused the old woman’s food. When the son came back, he met two implacable enemies each accusing each other of black magic. A frustrated son and husband had tried to make peace but the mother had simply walked out one night and camped herself in the hospital. She had insisted the house belonged to her son and so she had stronger rights. An ultimatum had been issued to the son by the wife to choose one of the two women.

  He chose alright, he rented another flat for himself and asked the warring women to sort themselves out. That happened a month ago and apparently the women had not agreed even on a truce. Ife listened to the tale and invited the woman to sleep on the couch in her flat till the morning.

  The next morning Iya Dekunle had decided to make herself useful sweeping, dusting and Ife grinned understanding her ploy to make her case stronger. When the supposed daughter-in-law breezed in reluctantly two hours later, Ife was in consultation. She asked another doctor to hold fort while she took the ladies to the common room.

  She explained why she had sent for them and asked if it was possible for them to be friends and resolve the differences.

  “Actually both of you love your son or husband at different levels and need to understand fighting over who should have precedence is not an act of love. Love never attempts to appropriate authority nor does it demand as both of you are doing. When you love someone, a son or daughter or even a wife or husband, you want to serve the person hand and foot. Not be a slave but you seek every opportunity to make that person happy. You serve with your being. You don’t wonder, give tests or make demands. You are comfortable in your skin with who you are.

  “Mama, I know you love your son, you have carried him in your pregnancy for nine months, prayed and wished to see him at the top of his profession. You have looked forward to the fruit of your labor that in your sunset days, when your skin is dappled by the sun and all your hair is white and your teeth cannot eat meat again, you want to look out of rheumy eyes and watch his children sit around your wrinkled knee and tell them stories. Right Mama?”

  Iya Dekunle had tears in her eyes. Ife took the veined work-worn fingers in her own hands sending healing thoughts of love to her.

  “Mama, remember all those years, those nights when you carried him on your back and paced the floor in the hut. He survived Sango’s call when he danced too close while Sango was on errands and lightning did not strike him dead but was under the protection of Olodumare. After all some of his mates have joined the realm of the ancestors. Olodumare protected from the hunger of the street
and we pray that he will not stub his toe on government hoe. He is your cloth that you want to cover your body when you need to take a seat with the Elders. You loved him then and when he brought his young girl home, you looked forward to many children that will fill the void of just one child. After all, you tell yourself one child is better than no child.

  “Even if the witches ate your womb, you still have Dekunle to remove the stigma of barrenness, Mama. That your wife has not been blessed with the fruit of the womb does not mean she has sold her womb to witches.”

  At this point the daughter-in-law was sobbing while Iya Dekunle simply stared in awe at Ife. Tears were running down her face too. Ife looked from one to the other and signaled that they should embrace. They did as the daughter-in-law apologized to her mother-in-law. Mama finally adjusted her headgear that had gone askew and stood up, held her breasts together and swore that with those breasts she had now accepted her daughter-in-law into the home. She promised to cook the real fertility soup for her daughter-in-law. Ife signaled to the young bemused woman to simply kneel and receive her mother-in-law’s blessing.

  Iya Dekunle gave Ife a toothless grin as she wondered how Ife knew what the problem was in their household. Ife was happy that they were open to receive her suggestions. She offered that the daughter-in-law could come to the clinic for tests so they might look for a medical reason as well. She counseled the younger woman that it was more peaceful to be respectful than to play lady of the manor with her mother-in-law. Ife saw that the women were going to be real friends and a song of thanks left her to the Blue Mountains for a successful guidance.

  Both ladies left and Ife returned to her clinic feeling light.

  ~~~

  The next few days were uneventful as Ife went about her duties. She was surprised to find herself thinking of Babatunde more often and couldn’t understand why she felt a void. That niggle was soon pushed to the background as she contemplated her patient. A young woman who seemed a bit distracted with her new baby. She would look at her child and cry. Ife had assumed it was postpartum depression and tried to cheer her up until she started seeing the silent terror as the day to discharge the young woman approached. Ife silently asked her guides to help her understand what the spiritual problem was, so she could learn how to be of aid.