Rotimi Ogunjobi

Èdìdàré

By

Rotimi Ogunjobi

2

Èdìdàré

3

Rotimi Ogunjobi

ISBN 978-978-49837-4-7

Lagos Literary and Arts Journal Imprint

www.lagosliteraryjournal.com

xceedia limited (publishing)

© 2010 Rotimi Ogunjobi

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Èdìdàré

CONTENTS

7 The Quest

15 The Journey

23 Edidare

49 The King’s Palace

59 The Betrayal of Atanpako

63 Omugodimeta

67 The Court of Edidare

87 The Departure

91 Literal Translations

95 Author’s Note

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

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Èdìdàré

THE QUEST

Our journey is to a distant city, where wisdom never eludes:

Oke Ironu beyond the enchanted forest of Elegbeje,

In the midst of which is known to stand a tree mysterious,

Its fragrant flowers every day blooms and blossoms ,

To yield at last the thirst-quenching fruit called Enlightenment.

It is a journey very far to travel of that we are certain,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Much further than Oke Langbodo of ancient lore;

Divided only by the Red River,

By the slow-moving River of Blood,

From the other world where the dead go to live.

For starkly do the citizens of Oke Ironu See all that is done,

By those that have passed away into the other world,

Where the dead go to live when we see them no more.

And clearly do they daily hear the roosters’ crow at dawn,

From across the Red River , from the other world

Where the dead go to live when we see them no more.

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Èdìdàré

And should you also wish to travel the bank of the Red River,

To the very source of its serpentine trail,

There you will find a mighty gilded portal ,

That passage way for the departed, which separates this world,

From the other world where the dead go to live.

And at the threshold of this passage way for the departed,

There Death has built his somber mansion,

And Disease , his consort has planted a flourishing garden.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Ours is therefore a journey only fit for the valiant,

A quest for those that will without fear accost Death;

But we are valiant men,thirty warriors who have conquered fear,

Seeking to bring to back to our disillusioned city, Alupayida;

The thirst-quenching fruit of that tree called Enlightenment;

Which stands in the midst of Oke Ironu, that distant city,

Where question, metamorphose quickly into wisdom.

We are thirty valiant men by many battles made strong,

And the brave volunteers to this quest, I should their virtues extol,

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Èdìdàré

And of their glorious achievements I, Irinkerindo should speak;

But the length of the day will not this lengthy task permit,

And the shortness of the night makes for more prudent use.

I, Irinkerindo the tireless seeker of adventure,

Always and persistently pursuing the truth wherever it may be found,

For the sake that posterity might in this way be made wiser.

Always and persistently pursuing integrity wherever it may be found,

That happily the old may validate their bank of wisdom,

Before they expire and also depart away,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

To the other world where the dead go to live.

And of this journey shall not falter nor fear,

Even though to our homes we may never again return ,

Even though we may perish and forever be lost,

Into that other land which lies across the Red River,

And on the other side from Oke Ironu into that other world ,

Where the dead go to live when we see them no more.

Absolutely shall we on our journey encounter,

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Èdìdàré

Monsters and demons that shall make the heart of men to fail;

Perchance we shall meet also with terrible fiends,

Which make even the heart of demons to fail;

Mayhap Elegbara will himself cross our path,

That twin brother to the infernal devil;

With ten thousands of his terrible offsprings going forth before ,

Pre-warning any that has ears, of his awe-inspiring approach.

We are thirty valiant men who have in our hearts murdered fear,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Death with the finality of his appearing we have ceased to care about;

We quest toward the distant city of Oke Ironu,

Beyond the fearsome forest of Elegbeje,

Separated only by the sluggish sanguinary river from the other world

Where the dead go to live when we see them no more.

Fellows, of the brave volunteers to this valiant pursuit,

I, Irinkerindo should sing many ballads ,

Proclaiming aloud their glorious achievements;

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Èdìdàré

And even though time ceaselessly races forth,

Even though in a dozen years my songs of them shall not end,

Of Kumodiran the brutal one I shall nevertheless sing :

He that must daily at dawn by heavy cudgels be pummeled,

Else infirmity shall fall upon his body,

And all day will he ceaselessly protest his comfort.

Kumodiran, of whom rumors are rife,

Of his birth from the coming together,

Of the mighty elephant and the brave leopard;

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Fearless in pursuit, fearless in defense,

Fearless of nothing, he personifies our strengths.

We are thirty valiant men ,journeying forth from the disenchantment.

And our quest is to bring back that thirst-quenching fruit,

Of the tree which stand in the middle of Oke Ironu,

The distant city beyond Oke Langbodo .

Our quest is to bring back with us that fruit called Enlightenment,

That Alupayida may eat and increase in wisdom.

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Èdìdàré

THE JOURNEY

We have journeyed many fields and forests,

Where fiery demons and fearsome djinns cavort;

We have swum through sticky rivers with treacherous fishes,

And serpentine creatures that devours to death.

But we are indomitable men of valour, resolute in pursuit,

And only of Enlightenment shall our thirst be slaked .

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Human-headed pythons that speak with fiery tongues ,

And flesh eating banshees that wail by night we have accosted;

Frightening kingdoms of vampire birds which squawk like pealing lighting;

We have overcome by our pool of sheer might and boldness;

We have conquered the treacherous Hila-Hilo mountains,

Ascended their tall peaks and waded the treacherous valleys;

With our glistening swords we have struck off into the dust,

The heads of a hundred tyrannous mutant ostriches.

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Èdìdàré

For we are valiant men, resolute in pursuit.

Have we then found a place of rest,

In this place where the beaten path leads ?

The road before is indeed a perplexing mystery,

For we have found it deep within the thorny wilderness,

Of dark Irunmole where the treasures of progenitors,

Lay forever hidden never to be uncovered,

By eyes that only search in idleness .

For Irunmole the sacred repository of mysterious runes;

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Reveals only by the scriptures of Orunmila,

In words spoken of sixteen sacred pebbles.

Before us within that terrible forest Irunmole,

Guarded by ten thousand flame eating demons both huge and tiny,

That roast the carcasses of fools, astride hot glowing coal by night,

Lay a road mysterious, a highway enigmatic.

Have we then found a place of sojourn, in this place that beckons?

Our pursuit urges though that we must hasten away,

For the road is in twain split ,one departing in an unkempt way,

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Èdìdàré

Overgrown with brambles and thorns, certainly no sensible pursuits;

The other in a tended path, kept and prepared for the wise at heart.

But away from this road of thorns Ifa instructs us walk,

Though our wish is to hack away through the thorny vines,

And venom spitting serpents with our glistening swords.

With our sure arrows pierce the heart of fearful chimeras,

Which malevolently frolic by the wayside seeking flesh for spoil.

Our wish is to hasten on to our destination Oke Ironu.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

And how much our journey should have profited,

By the companionship of Kako, that hunter of lore,

And his terrible cudgel fashioned of the leopard’s jaws;

By which many fearsome beasts have by his hands been slain,

But alas, he did perish in previous pursuits,

And in our travails of in the city of Oke Langbodo.

How much our journey should have been made smoother,

By the companionship of Akara-Ogun, that hunter of lore;

With a thousand charms from upon his coat hanging,

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Èdìdàré

By which he would our foes have charmed to submission ,

By which their hear he would have paralyzed with fear ,

So much that their hairy buttocks turn to water.

But he too alas has did also perish,

In previous travails of the city of Oke Langbodo.

Though we have neither speck nor grain of fear upon us,

And though our destination urgently calls upon us ,

And girdled with charms of fourteen hundred warriors we are;

That even the seven-headed demons,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Of the wild might flee our approaching,

By this alternative path of brambles and thorns,

The oracle instructs that we yet travel not,

And for a while we must definitely tarry,

In this place where the smooth road leads us .

Friends, our tired feet from troubles and toil seek respite,

Tired from the arduous ascent of the Hila-Hilo mountains,

And from many weeks of precarious travels demand rest.

The trampled path before a blissful bed promises,

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Èdìdàré

Away from marauding beasts that prowl unfettered,

And perhaps also the comfort of a fire by night.

Friends, we must therefore for a while rest our weapons,

And for a while shed our heavy instruments of war.

And so Ireke , our trusty bard I implore of you,

Bring out you magic flute, and play us a mellow reveille,

Because for a while we must indeed tarry,

From the tiresome toil of our long travel.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Surely this beaten road shall lead to the city of Edidare,

So declares the tired signpost that stands astride the confluence;

And here in Edidare we must therefore sojourn,

Here in Edidare – where Gongosu is king,

And his name as we find is Omugodimeji.

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Èdìdàré

ÈDÌDÀRÉ

Streets obliterated ,

By garbage aggregated from years of neglect;

Geriatrics ,

Resolutely peddling tired wares from hoary heads;

Sinewy youths ,

Lying listless in the bosom of Ennui;

As sundry diseases ,

Fearlessly roam the streets.

Flies flying festively ,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Contemptuously foraging their putrid meals;

Fetid streams of water soiled by soil of the unchaste,

In ragged rivulets flowing through the evil heaps;

Multitudes roaming with mind askew ,

And scab-spangled bodies biennially washed ,

Proudly displaying injured limbs ,

With weeping sores like prized badges of honor.

This is the picture of the lost city of Edidare,

Where Gongosu is king, and his name is Omugodimeji.

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Èdìdàré

Thus though we must needlessly tarry as the oracle demands,

We thought also with urgency to make our camp away,

From the midst of this inglorious decay,

From afar off to observe for fear that the ravaging pestilence ,

Should endanger the pursuit of our primal mission,

And concatenate our journey to find the fruit of Enlightenment .

Dark clouds overhang heavy heads by sadness bowed,

And despondency is etched on tired faces like stubborn scabs.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

A multitude of lethargic youths they thronged us,

And implored of us that we take them with us away,

Because for them this city is evil and horrid they wailed;

And the future is only of death by anguish and hopelessness,

Of an inglorious interment in the stomach of the idle.

For those in this place of wickedness do of their garden make

A pantry stocked with the rotting corpses of dead relatives,

For feasting in plenty at dinner when the night falls.

A desperate youths his name Iponjudiran,

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Èdìdàré

Before us fell on his knees wailing and weeping,

Blood from rheumy eyes and cankered sores dripping,

And boils on his body, lumpy as river pebbles.

And Iponjudiran cried, of his ailments and of his pain,

And wept for his mother at home Surulekan;

Twenty four months pregnant and for fear ,

Of the predictable destiny, and wickedness of the life,

Which awaits the unborn, would not have a child.

And daily she sits at home groaning in perpetual pain,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Of the constant pains of labor without yield.

Iponjudiran wept;

For the short lives and agonized death of his siblings,

And for the rotting flesh of his sister a few days deceased,

In hideous rictus ,

In the garden waiting to be food to the living,

Who grimly and faithfully also wait to die.

Thus in Edidare the loss of friend brings gastronomic joy,

And the death of foes causes the belly to roar in ecstasy.

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Èdìdàré

For life has here become bereft of purpose,

And living merely a ritual of cannibal pleasures;

Iponjudiran wept for his father Iforiti , who in confusion at home sits

In the doldrums of sanity, tired of living; afraid of dying.

And so for the depth of grief we followed him,

That perhaps by our presence we may his loved ones give hope,

For he verily imagines a spirit of benevolence walks with us.

And there found we Iforiti laid on a bed of sodden leaves,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Snow-white head on grey slab of rock pillowed,

For this being the sanity that their wisdom had afforded ,

As well for reason that it was the custom of these people.

Deprivation sustained has of intuition robbed them,

And expedient things have they substituted for the good and proper.

Thus also we found Surulekan groaning and crying ,

For the pains of the womb were violent and unceasing,

Yet would she not yield her precious burden.

For in this place Edidare the dead feed the living,

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Èdìdàré

And those that are yet to be born, no more than mere meat ,

Stored away in warm larder, ravenous jaws for them expectant.

Of our sparse knowledge did we encourage those that suffered,

And from the bushes did we gather herbs, leaves and roots,

From these poultices and ointments made for their festering wounds,

And soothing tonics for their diverse ailments.

And daily did we thereafter seek Surulekan,

And with words of compassion soothed her pains,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

But alas Iforiti two days later gave up the spirit,

In comfort though that hope had at last come to Edidare.

Hence to the woods took we Iforiti away and there buried him,

Iponjudiran also we took with us to our distant camp,

Far away from the evil stench of this city , Edidare.

And for reasons of the filth and the evil stench ,

Which makes the eyes to be so sad and sorrowful ,

And the heart to be distressed and to be sorely aggrieved,

We thought and resolved to seek the king,

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Èdìdàré

Who rules over this expanse of dreadful squalor,

That we might worship his lack of wisdom,

And marvel upon his unfortunate insignificance.

Surely atop of a heap of dung ,

Always presides a busy-ness of pestilent flies,

And certainly one exalted head vermin,

Unkind , unfeeling must on a throne demand reverence.

They daily die by the dozens these hapless people,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Both off horrible illnesses and of a lethal sloth,

So for the reason of conscience we must thus seek ,

Gongosu the great king of Edidare, whose name is Omugodimeji.

Therefore sent we emissaries to Gongosu ,

Bearing the kind greetings of friendly sojourners,

And a hefty parcel of libations for gift,

That we might purchase of him a listening ear.

Thus did the king us invite into his royal court,

And thus with joyful anger, we prepared to meet Gongosu.

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Èdìdàré

Alas by morning did we receive distressing news,

For Gongosu, with hoe over his shoulder, and cutlass in hand,

Had to his farm traveled away by dawn,

To toil and to bring food home for his ten wives,

For his fifty children and seventy servants,

Who still in the palace lie in blissful sleep,

As the cock had yet crowed only thrice.

When shall Gongosu from his journey return ?

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

By nightfall word again returned to us,

That the king will in his court receive us when morning comes.

Alas, next morning came again word from Gongosu,

Of weariness from the yesterday’s burden of victuals,

From the royal farm far away upon his shoulder borne,

To feed ten wives, fifty children and seventy servants.

And so for another two days Gongosu must rest,

Before he can with us have audience in the royal court.

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Èdìdàré

Once more a message came to us on appointed day,

To the royal farm far away Gongosu again had returned,

For the food which on his back he bore two days ago,

Sufficed not for all that lived in the palace;

So off to work the king again must go,

Off to the royal farm far away Gongosu must go,

To toil for food for his servants must be fed.

Shall we haplessly seek a fugitive king?

Nay, the tasks that stared us are indeed enormous,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Thousands cry to be delivered from their diseases,

A multitude seek to be awakened into new hope.

And so as the wounds of Iponjudiran healed him we taught,

Of the moral evils of eating kindred flesh,

And with him endeavored we to cultivate vast farms,

Grew fruits and vegetables and reared livestock,

Of which he should feed and sell for profit.

So gathered Iponjudiran hordes of the forlorn youths,

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Èdìdàré

And their strengths unleashed upon the fallow forests,

Creating mighty plantations, orchards and cattle pens ,

And thus therefore ceased them to be bereft of hope,

Life fetched greater purpose than sadness and the pain of death,

And added on the elevating joy of harvesting and of profit.

The dead and the rotting of Edidare they took away,

And deep in the forest Irunmole there they buried the dead.

And thus stank Edidare less, though the garbage remained defiant,

As it had for decades gathered and was petrified.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

The strong youth we taught to weave new clothing,

For selves and kin to make new coats and shoes,

For in Edidare a family had but a single set of clothes,

Worn each on their body by daily rotation,

For reason therefore had the children needlessly died,

Of grievous ailments that ride on the elemental flux.

Many days did we earnestly wait,

While Gongosu tirelessly toiled ,his wives to make fat ,

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Èdìdàré

And worked all day his servants to keep content.

Our joy was great on the seventeenth day of our sojourn,

When received we news that Gongosu at last awaits us.

Thus hasted we to the palace of the king at Edidare,

With its ancient fence no more than two feet high,

And the walls of the palace had been fashioned of crumbling mud,

And the roof of the royal edifice sagged heavy with age.

Were if not for a fool sitting astride the fence,

A bolt of cloth about his loins and a tall cap upon his head,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

In disgust would we have returned to camp,

For it behooves that there will be more than despair and futility,

In the hope to find sane beings behind those hideous walls,

Of the palace of Gongosu king of Edidare,

Who as we have learnt is called by name , Omugodimeji.

But nevertheless did we venture to ask the fool ,

Seated atop the crumbling fence of the royal palace,

Where we may go to find the king of Edidare.

But the fool he looked upon us with disdain unhidden,

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Èdìdàré

And asked of us for what purpose we desire to see the king.

But this fool we declined to answer mayhap,

As is the custom of these people he seeks of us a bribe,

And in response his eyes glistened with insanity this fool,

And for the assault of a maniac we girded ourselves.

But from within the palace came a servant running,

And upon his face did he reverently fall before this fool on the fence,

Hail the king! hail the king!; the servant worshipped,

And thus came we to think in our ignorance,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Mayhap such is how the king’s vassals worship one another,

In this place of awesome confusion.

The fellow which lay on the ground worshipping,

He pointed a timid finger at us berating,

Our ignorance, and the blindness of our eyes,

By which we are unable to discern the king who before us,

Though on the palace wall, he sits naked,

A sheet of cloth about his loins and a long cap on his head.

And thus also was Gongosu doubly angered at us.

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Èdìdàré

Surprised therefore fell I upon the ground,

And worshipped the king , the great Gongosu of Edidare

Hail, hail Gongosu ; hail, hail Omugodimeji,

And lying prostrate the king implored I his forgiveness,

That our mission might yet be salvaged.

But Omugodimeji, unrelenting railed angry,

And in his words made us blind buffoons unable to discern,

A great king regally perched upon his palace fence.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

With a piece of cloth around his waist and a cap upon his head;

And had our eyes not completely failed us,

And had we been born with even a smattering of wisdom,

Does not the magnificent crown upon his head ,

And how it surpasses any other crown in this world in beauty,

Have sufficiently hinted of his majesty ?

Had we ever in this world seen any other edifice ,

Of greater beauty to the palace of Gongosu ,

King of Edidare, whose name is Omugodimeji ?

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Èdìdàré

Has there ever lived one wiser than the great Gongosu ?

Is there a city as glorious in beauty as Edidare ?

O abject fools be warned of the anger of Gongosu,

Lest in your sojourn in this glorious city Edidare,

The wrath of Omugodimeji you bring upon your heads.

Greater confusion we momentarily found amidst us,

Not for the harangue of the king, upon us strong and angry,

But that Omugodimeji truly believed without a hint of doubt,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

That his city Edidare was indeed great.

O what a great and terrible calamity,

For while a fool imagines self wise he indeed remains,

To all that watch the greatest fool in the world;

For even as he denies his blundering stupidity,

Wisdom firmly flees firmly from his pitiable presence.

With pleasant words gathered I at last to speak,

With flattery sweet as honey, and the tongue of a crafty praise singer,

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Èdìdàré

Though Ayederu-eda, the bard behind me stood consumed by anger,

His gift of contrivance and intrigue for once fleeing him.

Thus hastened I to say to the king Gongosu,

Our delight with his mighty and beautiful city Edidare,

And how honored we were in presence of the exalted king ,

On crumbly palace fence sitting, while the city rots and stinks.

Fret not therefore Gongosu that we failed to worship you,

For indeed are we not merely ignorant oafs,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

This exceptional greatness which before us sits, not discerning,

For much travel has our eyes cloyed with tiredness.

Thus did I implore Gongosu against his burning wrath ,

And begged Omugodimeji that he might become our friend,

That we may freely come to the magnificent palace,

Of the king of this wonderful city Edidare,

And to this place daily bring many gifts in worship,

For have we ever seen such great and wonderful splendor ?

And Aiyederu-eda , the magic bard, the great praise singer,

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Èdìdàré

Gifted in contrivance and in words of intrigue,

Bewildered completely by my elegant flatterings,

For my resourcefulness in secret saluted me.

But Kumodiran that man of violent words and deeds,

Upon Gongosu unleashed anger strong as a whirlwind,

And told of his sadness to behold so great a fool,

Even as his ignominious name so aptly describes.

Else why, O Gongosu would one of half a sane mind,

Make a merry boast of such astounding perfidy,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

As a city filled with rotting corpses,

And garbage heaps standing high as tall as mansions.

O Gongosu you sit on the fence and dream of greatness,

While all around there lies only death and destruction,

And your celebrated royal garments ,

Demonstrates merely the attire of a clown.

We come to you with hearts heavy with concern,

And if today your ears have not yet failed you must to us listen,

For mere words indeed should fail to describe this abominable city ,

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Èdìdàré

And in foulness never will there be another to surpass Edidare .

To you we have with sound advice and good reason come O Gongosu,

And listen you must for we shall nevertheless speak.

But strongly did I beseech Kumodiran not to harangue Gongosu.

That we be not cast into sudden battle with his army mindful,

But Gongosu he responded with laughter as loud as thunder,

Fell he from the fence and in the dust rolled with glee.

And Omugodimeji his servants charged to lead us into the palace,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Where Gongosu will this day have royal audience,

With the valiant men, in pursuit of Enlightenment.

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Èdìdàré

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THE KING’S PALACE

In the palace of Gongosu consternation reigns,

And wives and concubines in nakedness saunter and roam,

In speech and comportment utterly unchaste.

The disgusting nakedness of his corpulent queen we nevertheless,

Were obliged to follow in a tour of the palace of Gongosu.

And she led us through rooms, treasury, kitchens and toilets,

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Èdìdàré

And even of all things not meant to be known she enlightened us,

About Gongosu of Edidare , whose name is Omugodimeji.

By this indiscreet woman were our eyes and ears so sorrowed,

That we implored her say nothing more to us,

Not about king, servants, mistresses nor cattle;

But recalcitrant she persisted declaring,

That upon her tongue ,the wish of Gongosu must prevail .

For even as she does so had Gongosu commanded her do.

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Released at last from this tomfoolery we sat,

In the king’s concourse impatiently waiting his presence,

That we might at last engage him with our mission,

And before him place our heartfelt concern for Edidare.

But a message came even as Gongosu before us sat on the throne,

That the yam is cooked and the kitchen awaits the king,

At the mortar to pound the yam that is cooked,

For the entire palace impatient await their noon meal.

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Èdìdàré

Thus did Omugodimeji haste away to toil in the kitchen,

Instructing nevertheless that we speak with his trusted counselor,

Who three generations of Gongosu before him had served ,

And he sits by the throne always , his name Atanpako.

Atanpako sat grumpy ,

As a portly vulture coldly regarding carrion,

And looking upon us with baleful eyes,

A countenance surly as of a bloated toad,

Croaked upon us to declare our mission.

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

Thus spoke we to Atanpako the counselor,

Of the heaps of filth ,

And of the horde of vermin ,

And the virulent diseases,

Which daily caused needless death in Edidare,

Thus spoke we against the evil of drinking soiled water,

And the terrible joy of eating rotting human carrion.

Should the people ventilate their musty homes,

And should they wear clothes and sleep in dry beds;

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Èdìdàré

Should the people daily make to make self clean in a bath,

So will death visit their homes more infrequently,

And disease will be from them be held in strong fetters,

Outside the portals of their tidy dwellings .

Thus did we say to the counselor Atanpako,

And his hoary head he nodded as if in understanding,

A withered thumb he raised as if in agreement.

A cry of consternation and word came to us,

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Rotimi Ogunjobi

That the king with his youngest wife wrestles in the kitchen,

And at the place of the newest confusion ,

Found we Gongosu in the dust upon his back,

His wife Werediran upon his chest perched,

And with heavy hands bludgeoned him upon the face .

But with heavier hands did we rescue Gongosu from certain death,

From the hands of this frail woman who with him wrestled.

Alas , Gongosu arose and again ,

Made he a loud boast of how the impolite woman,

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Èdìdàré

He would have overpowered and taught the lesson of her life;

And hearing this Werediran again from our hands escaped,

And in the twinkling of the eye again launched upon Gongosu.

Thus did Omugodimeji again lay in the dust, and thus did we gain

Rescue Gongosu from the hands of this frail woman.

Seven times did this brawling woman Werediran,

Make Gongosu her foot mat and a public disgrace,

Before kith , kin , servants and strangers looking on astounded,

And after the seventh time in fear fled Omugodimeji .

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His wife Werediran the daughter of Agbako-tunji,

Around the palace grounds pursuing on dainty feet.

A sorry sight to see indeed was Gongosu,

Rescued at last from this dreadful and mortifying encounter,

For he was from head to toe covered in dust and filth,

And in exhaustion he gasped for breath like a dying beast.

O Gongosu, she did not beat you so much today,

Said a servant to Gongosu king of Edidare,

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Yes, I am now beginning to understand how she fights,

And nearly today did I conquer her.

Replied Gongosu with pride aglow.

Where is your crown, O Gongosu?

Inquired another servant of the king in great mirth.

I do not know where it is

Mayhap the stream has taken it away

Even as I fell in the flowing water.

Thus replied Gongosu with pride aglow.

She is indeed a terrible woman Werediran,

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And my head she would have broken into little shards,

Even as her mother did to her unfortunate father,

And till this day her mother is kept in prison.

My wife is from a family of murderers, I tell you all

But can you not see that she is indeed much beautiful?

Even though she herself,

Has three times been kept in prison,

Till I took her as wife for she is indeed much beautiful-

Tall, elegant and a joy to the discerning eyes.

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Fellows, she certainly would to you appear skilled in fighting,

But mark you all I Gongosu I am the master of Werediran ,

And if again she comes once more to challenge me ,

Then to an inch of her life I shall I certainly trash her,

For now I now know all the fighting tricks of Werediran.

So declared Gongosu to all before him gathered,

So said Omugodimeji to the astounded before him gathered.

She comes again! She comes again !

Someone shouted, a loud cry from far away,

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And again fled Gongosu away from his palace for dear life,

And again followed Werediran in mad pursuit.

O Gongosu; after the fighting of this day has subsided,

And your bruises and wounds have been tended to and salved,

We shall again return tonight, our urgent mission to bare,

For now your garment is in utter tatters,

And the occasion we fear is not at present fortunate.

Tonight we shall again return O Gongosu.

And with you we shall talk about our heartache for Edidare.

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THE BETRAYAL OF ATANPAKO

So again returned we at dusk to Gongosu,

His strife with Werediran now abated;

But in long conference found we him with the counselor Atanpako.

Thus for long we again awaited the audience of Gongosu,

But alas, his words were again in anger as he turned upon us:

Ignorant wanderers foisting lies upon idle ears,

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Why do you come to visit me with your contrivances,

And attempt to blind my vision with wily counsel?

Do I not see your dastardly plot to steal this city Edidare,

By teaching the people strange and alien customs?

Never in my life has it been said that the pox is bad,

Is it not but a buffet that strengthens the body?

Fetch me you lying deceivers a fellow struck with the pox,

And him I will lovingly cuddle to my bosom and make him my friend.

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Filth is good and pleasant for it speaks of abundance,

And a house bereft of windows,

Rather makes for a warmer bed.

Not for another minute shall I listen to your wily advice.

For I perceive from you a trick to steal this great city Edidare

This sad to us Gongosu, the king of Edidare,

Whose name we are told is Omugodimeji.

Askance we looked upon the counselor Atanpako,

Desiring of him to speak a word ,

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Against this great delusion of Gongosu,

But Atanpako hardened his face against our presence,

And turning to Gongosu raised a gnarled thumb in support.

By Atanpako utterly betrayed, from the palace went we away,

From the palace of Gongosu of Edidare :

Surpassed in his wisdom by his utter foolishness.

Six days after did we again return hopeful,

And sought Gongosu, mayhap of his folly he has repented,

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But alas, we found Gongosu struck down ill of a strange disease,

Omugodimeji groaned upon his bed in the throes of death,

Which dutifully seven days after did at last come.

Only if kings would learn to heed wise counsel,

And be not obstinate in their single perceptions;

Only if rulers will hearken to good advice,

And bend their ears to the voice of reason,

Then are cities made great and mighty,

Then are the people made strong and wealthy.

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Into the forest took we Omugodimeji and there him interred,

Even as his entire household salivated in the expectation,

Of his juicy laps roasting on hot coals,

And his belly on a spittle dripping fat,

Onto a crackling bed of burning wood.

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OMUGODIMETA

Upon Edidare had we thereafter hoped,

That a new dawn has now finally arrived,

For a new king shall indeed now be crowned:

Gongosu king of Edidare , even as Omugodimeji has left this world.

On the seventh day after Omugodimeji had forever gone away,

Was crowned his eldest son, his name Omugodimeta,

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And he feted us, he and his mother Ilaburu,

He feted us sojourners , he and his brother Danasungbo.

They feted us wise travelers, they fell prostrate before us,

And thus reverently greeted us sojourners one after the other ,

Thirty times in all this family of fools.

And for astuteness did Omugodimeta make me chief;

Upon me reverently bestowed a princely title, Ipakodiwura.

And with a grim face and contrived smiles full of poison,

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Even did Atanpako again surly raise a withered thumb.

But the youth of Edidare they rejoiced at the news,

And for us they raised a celebration dance.

Surulekan the mother of Iponjudiran,

Her hold at last did release from upon the aching womb,

And brought into her arms a newly born baby,

A beautiful boy over which she long wept for joy,

And in her endearment to me and my fellow sojourners,

The child she named after me Irinkerindo.

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Gongo so .

The multitude danced and the drums sang with lustful tongues,

On coronation day when Omugodimeta became king,

There was this day great dancing and great cavorting,

There was feasting and mighty speeches uttered without meaning,

May he live long and forever , the great Omugodimeta,

May he live long and forever , the great Gongosu king of Edidare.

The multitude danced and the drums sang with lustful tongues :

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Gongosu Edidare, Gongosu Edidare,

Bi o ti gbon to naa lo go to,

Gongosu Edidare, Gongosu Edidare.

O Gongosu , your wisdom by your glorious foolishness

Will never ever, fail to be surpassed.

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