The sounds of gangan, agogo, sekere and bembe beats welcomed me into the Olosunta Ukere Hills. The town noted for its rocky appearance. Though the major road was dusty due to the constant vehicular movements, it is no gainsaying that the inhabitants are extremely happy. You could easily see it on their faces. Besides these points, they are friendly, most especially to the strangers.
Facing me by the right was the popular Oke Ukere, popularly known as Ikere Hills. The green life there was purely good for ecology. The cool weather at night is medicinal and the serene environment encourages relationship building. Lovers , whether old or new would have a haven in it. And for the children in the ancient town, it’s a hide out for them and a place to chit chat.
To do a study on ancient cities or towns in Yoruba land, this is why I had left my base in Cotonou to do a study here in Ekiti State, Nigeria. Initially, I did not want to come to Yorubaland, I would have preferred the French Village in Badagry because it is close to the border. But it didn’t work out.
My second option would have been Ghana by the Upper Volta area, alas, my supervisor would not want any of such. To him, I needed to go Oke Ukere in Yorubaland and see mother nature in full. It was while preparing to get the final approval that I knew the grant was given to me because my supervisor had quoted excerpts from Prof. Niyi Osundare’s poetry , while guarding me on how to fill the grant proposal. It was this that got me the opportunity.
So far, my supervisor was the key person that recommended me for th offer; I accepted his wish. It was when I got to Oke Ukere that I knew the beauty and value in our forefathers saying, which says , you need to move away from one place to see the true colour of life.
Back home in Cotonou was the Songhai Farm where nothing is wasted. Even the manure there is used for organic matters. Could you believe that urine used to power electricity? And that place has also become a tourist and Research center for all comers.
But here in Oke Ukere, mother nature beckons on all. The Osun river which is believed to be medicinal flows pass the house I stayed. The onus is that whoever is taking the grant must live with any of the villagers or folks in the town. No lodging in hotel or any luxurious centre. They believe that you cannot lodge in hotel and feel the real rural life. Mine was not different.
The day I arrived coincides with the day those looking for children came to worship the river goddess. I was eager to do something and the mere dancing to the rhythms of those wearing white apparels got the attention of their leader called Yeye Osun. She allowed me to take photographs and asked questions.
I was curious to see a young man , may be in his early 30’s amongst the worshippers. Unlike me looking at the strange faces, this one has gotten used to the folks. He has a camcorder which he uses at intervals. He wore a white apparel like them, but with a different design that revels fashion and panache. I was curious to know him. He must have been the child of their leader, or one of the educated youths, among the worshippers.
After the initial dance and invocation that got me asked questions. They shared Ekuru, a white beans pudding with shea butter which I didn’t reject, because I am used to this in my native country. I accepted with appreciation and went to a corner to sit down. I was surprised that the leader of the group though in her late 60’s speaks good English Language. Her diction was superb. Unlike when she was rendering Osun panegyrics’ in fast tone, she spoke to me softly and eloquently. I was taken aback.
As she was talking to me, some people needed her attention. She apologised to me and left to join the larger group. That young man with camcorder came to me. He smelt nice and I fell for the aroma of his perfume.
“ Halooo, my name is Mutiu, may I know you” He said to me as she stretched his hand. The hand was soft and alluring, unusual of men.
I smiled before saying “Nice meting you, my name is Cherie”
“Mon Cherie Koko! You reminded me of a song by the late Sonny Okosuns, an afro pop singer.” He said to me, this time also smiling. His teeth were of milk colour. He has this expression on his face that reminded me of the Nigerian Ambassador to Benin Republic. Our team in Cotonou were once at the Nigerian Embassy in Benin Republic at the Rue De Marina, very close to the Beach for an ‘Evening of Peace’. That day was a memorable day for me. I had the chance to recite my poetry in Yoruba alongside the wife of the Ambassador, who was a part time lecturer in one of the private universities.
“ I am seeing your face for the first time……….” He said to me.
“ Yes, you guess right. I am very new here. In-fact, I came today,” I told him.
“Welcome to my newly adopted place,”
” Your adopted place?” I asked with curiosity.
“Yes, my new place”
“I thought the Yeye Osun is your mother. I could see that you were very close.”
“ She is my new mother here in Nigeria, I mean Oke Ukere. My real parents are in Brasil. I was born Mitchel Bakre. But here I was renamed Mutiu Osungbade. You will still be given a new name before you go”
“Hmmmmmm, I will like it. I hope it will be sweet like your name ”
“May be sweeter than mine” He concluded as the sounds of ibembe and gangan rented the air again.
I sauntered forward, danced to the admiration of all. Yeye Osun splashed cold water on my feet which means peace and tranquility in the native way. At last, I went back home. My hostess and her husband were already looking for me. A little boy had told them where I went to, and they were not really surprised, but they felt I should have come home before then.
My first place of assignment was at the foot of Olosunta Hill. At night, it was always calm, but in the noon, it was always noisy as if there were marketing activities going on there. I was to work on the myth surrounding the rock, songs sung at festivals, mode of worshipping the rock and a chat with the Kabiyesi, lifestyles of the devotees. If I want to add sugar to my tea or pap, I could go ahead and take samples of the soil there and take to archaeologists for study. I was prepared to do this.
I was to spend three months in Oke Ukere before going back to my country. In all this, I need to constantly send reports back home to my supervisor. I kept to this rule. Mutiu was of immense support to my project. How he got to know my new abode was a mirage to me. But so far the community was not all that big, It was very easy to notice strange faces. I was helping my ‘new mother’; my hostess to peel yam when Semiu came in. He was welcomed. I was surprised that he can speak the native language of his adopted folks.
I introduced him to my parents who told me that they knew him already. He waited for us to finish cooking before leaving. Efforts by us to persuade him take few morsels were nil. He left before I could finish my food. He didn’t even allowed me to see him off.
Day by day, Mutiu’s visits to me became more frequent. He would come to the rocky axis to meet me. He would tell me many things and I also started opening up to him.