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Authors: Irenosen Okojie
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their backs into his biddings without the slightest hesitation. Ere did as he was told, how could he not? But despite being hailed as one of the finest craftsmen in the land, he was just a fleck of spit in the Obaâs river until surprising circumstances delivered a new assignment.
Two weeks after the Oba married Adesua a golden nugget dropped into his lap and propped his back straighter. Some of his soldiers had captured Ogiso, a rival of Oba Odion who had beenplotting the end of the Obaâs reign and steadily gathering supporters in villages like Ego and others dotting the back end of Benin. Once upon a time Oba Odion and Ogiso had been boyhood friends. They had chased the same girls, run through the dirt tracks of unidentifiable animals and collapsed against each other many times under the influence of much food and drink at Igewhi festivals, the memories of which, as they grew older, weakened in their grips like a slippery rope. It pulled and they let go.
Eventually it became who could outperform the other and this created a litany of rivalries like tiny stones in Odionâs eye. Ogiso did not know his place. One day they argued, worse than ever before. But this argument did not come from thin air. It had been sniffing at them for years, waiting for the scent of distrust and resentment to line their dealings the way soft silk lined the inside of a decadent outfit. Fuelled by anger and full of simmering resentments Ogiso left the kingdom but vowed to return one day to reclaim what he insisted was also rightfully his. He was warned to never return again.
Ogiso was found in the town of Epoma, amongst a plethora of like-minded bandits, caught in his bed, in that sweet induced state between being half asleep, half awake. They brought him to the palace in heavy, hard chains that cut into his wrist. Oba Odion fought with the burden that landed his way. He sought out his council for advice and they insisted Ogiso be tried; if found guilty, nothing less than death should be his punishment or the Oba would look like a weak king. Strangely, Ogiso did not plead for Oba Odionâs mercy. He accepted his fate, switching between whistling merrily and laughing hysterically. Four days after he arrived at the palace he was tried, and found guilty of scheming to overthrow the king by every single member of the council. All fourteen of them.
Ogisoâs last words were to insist Oba Odion have the courage to personally tell his mother what he had done to her son. Oba Odion did show a mercy of sorts; instead of being beheaded, Ogiso was hung. He was taken to a spot deep within the heart of a near forest.When his neck snapped and his feet spasmed next to the trunk of a bewildered ebony tree, a crushing pain exploded in Ogisoâs motherâs head and shot all the way down to her toes at the same moment. After she was told the news of her sonâs death, she was unable to move the right side of her body. It was paralysed by despair and loss. From that day onwards until she passed, Ogisoâs mother would slur from the far left corner of her mouth every morning the mantra that Oba Odion should receive a fate worse than his father before him. Her daily ritual was done, without fail.
Craftsman Ere was called to one of the kingâs chambers on an afternoon when the sun was intent on punishing the inhabitants of Benin. It was so hot that a person could be tempted to walk around naked had it not been for social etiquette. People were gulping pails of water as if Benin had turned into a desert overnight. Little children waded into the shallow ends of rivers to cool down and older ones splashed their faces enthusiastically. Ere met the Oba standing next to the wide square window that overlooked the main courtyard in the palace. There were intricately designed, plump, dark brown cushions on the floor. Throws in hues of amber, gold and maroon covered the circular, tall chairs made from the finest teak wood. A large, straw
Two weeks after the Oba married Adesua a golden nugget dropped into his lap and propped his back straighter. Some of his soldiers had captured Ogiso, a rival of Oba Odion who had beenplotting the end of the Obaâs reign and steadily gathering supporters in villages like Ego and others dotting the back end of Benin. Once upon a time Oba Odion and Ogiso had been boyhood friends. They had chased the same girls, run through the dirt tracks of unidentifiable animals and collapsed against each other many times under the influence of much food and drink at Igewhi festivals, the memories of which, as they grew older, weakened in their grips like a slippery rope. It pulled and they let go.
Eventually it became who could outperform the other and this created a litany of rivalries like tiny stones in Odionâs eye. Ogiso did not know his place. One day they argued, worse than ever before. But this argument did not come from thin air. It had been sniffing at them for years, waiting for the scent of distrust and resentment to line their dealings the way soft silk lined the inside of a decadent outfit. Fuelled by anger and full of simmering resentments Ogiso left the kingdom but vowed to return one day to reclaim what he insisted was also rightfully his. He was warned to never return again.
Ogiso was found in the town of Epoma, amongst a plethora of like-minded bandits, caught in his bed, in that sweet induced state between being half asleep, half awake. They brought him to the palace in heavy, hard chains that cut into his wrist. Oba Odion fought with the burden that landed his way. He sought out his council for advice and they insisted Ogiso be tried; if found guilty, nothing less than death should be his punishment or the Oba would look like a weak king. Strangely, Ogiso did not plead for Oba Odionâs mercy. He accepted his fate, switching between whistling merrily and laughing hysterically. Four days after he arrived at the palace he was tried, and found guilty of scheming to overthrow the king by every single member of the council. All fourteen of them.
Ogisoâs last words were to insist Oba Odion have the courage to personally tell his mother what he had done to her son. Oba Odion did show a mercy of sorts; instead of being beheaded, Ogiso was hung. He was taken to a spot deep within the heart of a near forest.When his neck snapped and his feet spasmed next to the trunk of a bewildered ebony tree, a crushing pain exploded in Ogisoâs motherâs head and shot all the way down to her toes at the same moment. After she was told the news of her sonâs death, she was unable to move the right side of her body. It was paralysed by despair and loss. From that day onwards until she passed, Ogisoâs mother would slur from the far left corner of her mouth every morning the mantra that Oba Odion should receive a fate worse than his father before him. Her daily ritual was done, without fail.
Craftsman Ere was called to one of the kingâs chambers on an afternoon when the sun was intent on punishing the inhabitants of Benin. It was so hot that a person could be tempted to walk around naked had it not been for social etiquette. People were gulping pails of water as if Benin had turned into a desert overnight. Little children waded into the shallow ends of rivers to cool down and older ones splashed their faces enthusiastically. Ere met the Oba standing next to the wide square window that overlooked the main courtyard in the palace. There were intricately designed, plump, dark brown cushions on the floor. Throws in hues of amber, gold and maroon covered the circular, tall chairs made from the finest teak wood. A large, straw
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