Tunde Odesola

From the bottomless depth of Yoruba divinity, I fetch the myth of Ajala, whose popular name is Obatala. Ajala is the heavenly Potter tasked with the duty of moulding human heads. Ori is the Yoruba word for head. Ori encases destiny. In Igbo cosmology, a person’s Chi, like Ori, is a personal spiritual force that shapes an individual’s life experiences and destiny.

In two of my published articles, “Mike Ejeagha and the power of Music,” and “Yoruba rascals and Igbo idiots (1&2),” I affirmed the conclusion among researchers which suggests that the Yoruba and Igbo languages lived in the same community at a time and that both ethnic groups are from the same ancestral stock. And I frowned on the needless suspicion and bickering between both ethnicities.

Ajala is not a saint. He is an agile drunkard, who abhors palm wine but loves sèkèté, the corn beer. He probably loves otíkà, the beer brewed from millet, too.

As told by the world-renowned Ifa scholar and Araba of Osogbo, Chief Ifayemi Elebuibon, in a telephone chat with me, here goes the tale of destiny, humility, perseverance and obedience.

Once upon a time, three neonates set out from Ìkòlé Orún, the Heavenly Realm, on the journey to Ìkòlé Ayé, the Earthly Realm. The names of the three infants are Orísánkú, the child of Ògún; Ìlémèrè, the child of Ìjà, who is also known as Òṣówùsì, and Afùwàpé, the child of Òrúnmìlà.

Ready to embark on his earthly journey, Orísánkú went to the House of Àjàlá but the potter was abroad. Orísánkú wasn’t ready to wait for the potter, so, among the numerous heads Àjàlá had made with clay, he picked a head and headed out.

No sooner had Orísánkú left the habitat of Àjàlá than Ìlémèrè came calling. Àjàlá was still nowhere in sight. Ìlémèrè walked around the dwelling, looking at various heads. Some were still wet, some were dry. Some heads were big, some were small; Ìlémèrè looked for a good head. One good head, he thought, is better than two.

Everywhere he turned, a head stared at him. One head was big for nothing, another head was too small for something. Ìlémèrè continued to examine the heads; he saw a medium head, liked it, and was going to pick it when he discovered a crack from its front to the back. He dropped it quickly.

Ìlémèrè was in a hurry. He wanted to go and explore the earth. Eventually, he picked a heavy head and headed into the Odd World called Ayé Akámarà.

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But before Òrúnmìlà allowed his son, Afùwàpé, go into the world, he consulted Ifa for guidance. Ifa told Òrúnmìlà to give his son some salt and 10,000 cowries.

So, Afùwàpé set out with (íyò) salt and (egbàá) 10,000 cowries. On getting to a crossroads, Afùwàpé became lost and had to ask for directions to the house of Àjàlá. To a man cooking in a hut by the roadside, Afùwàpé went. “You turn right by that iroko tree and go straight downhill. You will see a mud hut overlooking a stream. That’s Àjàlá’s house.”

Strangely, Afùwàpé noticed the man was cooking with ashes. So, he asked, “Why are you cooking with ashes? I have salt, do you want some?” The roadside man was profusely grateful.

By the time Afùwàpé got to Àjàlá’s house, the potter wasn’t home still. Afùwàpé was ready to wait till Àjàlá came back. While waiting, a furious woman came asking for Àjàlá. She had sold some corn beer to Àjàlá who had defaulted in payment.

Afùwàpé calmed the angry woman down and asked her how much Àjàlá owed. “I’ll not leave here today!” she wailed. “How much does he owe?” Afùwàpé apologised to her, paid her off and continued to wait.

Àjàlá saw everything from where he hid in the ceiling. He climbed down and thanked Afùwàpé, asking the stranger what brought him to his house. “I have come to choose a head, baba.”

Àjàlá took Afùwàpé around the house, explaining in detail the compositions of each head. With his rod, he touched a particular head which looked very beautiful, but he said, “That head is not good. Anyone who picks that head will not succeed. Many people in the world have the wrong heads because they chose heads according to their fancy,” Àjàlá continued, “To succeed, everyone needs good character to go with a good head.”

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But Afùwàpé had to choose his own head because it is his destiny, his àkúnlèyàn, his chi. So, with the guidance of Àjàlá, Afùwàpé chose a good head and left to explore the world.

Afùwàpé succeeded greatly in life. But Orísánkú and Ìlémèrè failed woefully. One day, the three of them met, and the two unsuccessful men bemoaned their tragedies as they recounted how they separately journeyed to the house of Àjàlá and how they picked their destinies. Afùwàpé told them his own story and they realised how water entered into the shell of the snail.

Generally, life’s struggles should recognise the place of destiny, ori, chi, àkúnlèyàn, though this doesn’t mean that arms should be folded akimbo while time flies away, but haste and patience should be equally measured; ìkánjú pèlú sùúrù, ogboogba lójé. When you run ahead of your destiny, disaster runs faster ahead.

The tortoise in Taye Currency wanted some honey, so he headed up to the beehive, against advice. But when he saw the swarm of angry bees, nobody told the tortoise to recoil into its shell.

In a live show, Currency stirred the hornet’s nest, throwing three stones; one at Pasuma, his benefactor, one at Sefiu Alao aka Baba Oko, who’s by far his senior, and another one at Sunny T, aka Idan Armani, saying that Pasuma once copied the style of Obesere aka Ológbojò and that the late Igbo man that sang Fuji, Sunny T, once copied King Wasiu Ayinde’s style while Alao allegedly copied Aare Shina Akanni aka Scorpido.

After the three-pronged salvo, Currency threw yet another stone, saying Pasuma could only pass for his elder brother and not his father, warning fans not to cause katakátá between him and Pasuma, his ògá, prompting watchers to ask if it was fans that made him open his mouth to defy Pasuma. Here, Currency spoke like the Nigerian politician, who blames everyone around for their own errors.

There are undercurrents to Currency’s outburst, no doubt – the water bug dancing on the surface of the stream has its drummer below the surface. The foundation of Fuji music was laid with acrimony, declares General Kollington Ayinla, the sidekick to Dr Sikiru Ayinde Barrister, the late Fuji pioneer, with whom Ayinla fought bitterly over supremacy. I disagree with Baba Alatika’s submission because Adewale Ayuba, the Bonsue Fuji king, has remained a shining exemplar of finesse, respect, dignity and honour.

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In Nigeria, bitter fights often ensue whenever a music mentee breaks away from a mentor, like in the case of Mohbad and Naira Marley, just as political fights ensue between presidents and their deputies – like the Obasanjo-Atiku enmity; and between governors and their deputies as Lagos witnessed in the Tinubu Vs Bucknor-Akerele rumble, etc.

Asked in an interview why there was so much bad blood between him and Osupa Saheed, the Olufimo 1 of Fuji, Pasuma attributed exuberance to their past feuds, adding, “But we are both over 50 now, our children are now parents; what else are we looking for? We now have a solid relationship.”

Remarkably, Pasuma has remained silent over the issue even as Currency, who publicly apologised for his utterance, spoke from both sides of his mouth, admitting his utterance was a mistake and at the same time maintaining he had done nothing wrong.

Advisedly, Pasuma should just let this matter slide because when the world rises in your defence during a fight, you utter no word. Oga Nla has his palm kernels cracked for him by benevolent spirits, he should be grateful. The overwhelming outpouring of solidarity Alabi Amama received in this matter is uncommon on the Nigerian music scene, where opinions and fan support on contentious issues are fairly divided between contending forces.

The last time there was lopsidedness in opinion and fan support over a contentious Fuji music issue was when KWAM 1 gave his personal opinion on the origin of Fuji in the song, “Orin Dowo,” which saw an overwhelming percentage of Fuji lovers reaching for Ayinde’s jugular. But I see Fuji GOAT, Barrister, as the visioner of Fuji, and not essentially as someone who created Fuji out of void because music evolves from music. The Fuji music Barusati envisioned is bigger than him today. That was his prayer. Music has no end. So, I love the historicity in ‘Orin Dowo’ and I see it as a peep into the origin of Fuji. ‘Orin Dowo’ will outgrow the intent that birthed it.

As it is with music generally, rivalry won’t cease in Fuji; there was the Obey-Sunny rivalry, Ayinla Omowura-Fatai Olowonyo hostility, the ongoing Wiz Kid-Davido feud, etc. Freedom to dissent is a mechanism for growth. Man is naughty by nature.

* Concluded.

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