It was one of those times when tradition muzzled a people and prevented them from expressing their emotions and grief, at least publicly. An overcast of gloom had pervaded Iwere (Warri) Kingdom in Delta State, as the rumour gathered momentum that the Olu of Warri, Ogiame Atuwatse II had joined his ancestors. It started in the early week of September, but the people could not mourn one of the gravest tragedies of the last three decades because their tradition forbids them from acknowledging the news until the whole hog of rites had been completed.
Olu Ogiame Atuwatse II was the centripetal force that moved and glued the Itsekiri nation. He was the pride of the Itsekiri, a group that prides itself as ‘one people under one monarch’. They occupy, but are not restricted, to the three Warri local government areas of Delta State. The Itsekiri tribes are found in communities, such as Ugbolokposo in Uvwie Local Government Area, in Ologbo and other villages and hamlets in Edo State and they all revere their Olu as a deity that is second only to God.
But the death of Atuwatse II remained a rumour until last Saturday, when the Ojomo of Warri Kingdom, Chief Yaya Pessu, who acted the role of Ologbotsere, symbolically broke the pot of white chalk to announce his death. The rite freed the people from the burden of secrecy and era of topsy-turvydom.
The much revered monarch was last sighted by this reporter at his palace, when the state governor, Senator Ifeanyi Okowa, consulted with him before the constitution of the board of the Delta State Oil Producing Areas Development Commission. Three Itsekiri indigenes – Mr Godwin Ebosa, Chief Thomas Ereyitomi and Mr Victor Woods – made the board.
Days later, Niger Delta Report learnt that the monarch had joined his ancestors after a domestic accident. His death took place at a private hospital in Lagos where he was flown to for medical attention. Prior to the sad event, the monarch had been slowed for years by a protracted ailment.
Despite the report, prominent Itsekiri leaders, traditional titleholders and members of the royal family in of the kingdom (Otolus) kept mum. Some of the palace chiefs who are close to this reporter suddenly stopped taking his call, ostensibly to wade off inquiries about the monarch’s death.
The Iwere Integrity Group, in a terse statement denied the report but left open many possible interpretations. The statement was signed by over 30 members and the chairman and secretary, Mr Moses Fregene and Robinson Ariyo.
Barely a day before the Ode-Itsekiri announcement, this reporter spoke with Prince Ebiyemi Emiko, one of those considered as possible successor. The trained journalist also feigned ignorance. Prince ‘Yemi said he wasn’t aware of the death of his brother or that one of the most exalted traditional stool in the land was vacant.
By that time, Chief Yaya Pessu, the highest ranking and oldest member of the Olu Advisory Council, had sent out invitation for a National Assembly of the Itsekiri people. There was anxiety and uneasy calm in the kingdom. Telephone lines of prominent Itsekiri leaders and members of the JOS Ayomike-led Itsekiri Leaders of Thought, rang incessantly as people called for information and news on latest developments.
It was under this specter of tradition-induced silence and tension that the Itsekiri nation gathered at their ancestral home of Ode-Itsekiri (Big Warri) in Warri South Local Government Area on Saturday. The atmosphere at the Aghofen (Palace) in Ode-Itsekiri was tense. About all the Ojoyes (noble titleholders) were present; they were led by the Chief Pessu and Chief Isaac Jemide, the Otsodi of Warri Kingdom – the duo are the only surviving members of the Olu Advisory Council.
The only dignitary missing was Chief Gabriel Mabiaku, the Iyasere, who died weeks earlier and the most important personage in the kingdom. Olu Atuwatse II was visibly missing and his shadow loomed over the overcrowded galleria; it spread through the roads and walkway from his palace to the waterside and darkened the horizon.
Those who went to the arena hoping, against hope, that the man whose numerous titles include Ogbowuru Afomasin would somehow materialise, had their hopes dashed when Chief Pessu and other chiefs trudge in their traditional white chiefly robes and red cummerbunds. But this time, they also had the symbolic black sash over the red and the usual spring in their gaits was missing.
They came from far and wide, from various clans and lineage of the famous tribe. Chief Rita Lori-Ogbebor, led Igba and there were chiefs Hayman, Walter Omadeli, Mene Brown, Nelson Utienyinone, Emmanuel Jones, Edward Olley and E A Tetseola, among others.
At the dais where Pessu and Jemide other chiefs sat, an immaculate white chair stood empty; its void symbolised the absence of the highest authority in Iwere (Itsekiri) land.
Even younger men like Mr Temi Kingsway-Eyoyibo and Oregbemi Onamoren- Beecroft, who besieged Ode-Itsekiri decked in his kemeje (traditional male attire), knew that something was amiss. The reality that they were about to hear a bad news about the monarch they loved and respected began to dawn.
“I felt proud being an Itsekiri and in my ancestral home, but at the same time, I dreaded what was coming. Ogiame Atuwatse II was our father, he was our baba and the one whose pronouncement settles all arguments,” Onamoren-Beecroft told our reporter; his voice was laden with emotion.
A few minutes later, after singing the Ara Olorire (Itsekiri National Anthem) and other formalities, the Chief Priest, Chief Pessu, who bore earthen pots of efun (native chalk) raised one over his head and smashed it unto the ground. The poignant rite was accompanied by cries of Ale je efun, which literarily means ‘the ground has eaten the native chalk’, and ‘Ata tse’ (the anchor is broken) signifying that Olu was no more.
The rite was followed by murmurs of ‘eh oooh’, gnashing of teeth and shaking of heads as the import of the ceremony seeped through the sea of people. Some cried, others were too dazed to react. The time was 11:50am. Canon shots rent the air, the boom reaching as far as neighbouring communities like Ubeji, Ugbuwangue and the others communities in the kingdom and the Oil City of Warri metropolis.
But barely 25 minutes later – at 12:15pm, the crowd was animated and in jubilant mood.
Chief Pessu, after consulting with Jemide and other Ojoyes, announced that the late monarch would be succeed by his younger brother, Prince Ikenwoli Godfrey Gbesimi Emiko (aka Abiloye). And the ‘eh oooh’ and sorrow swiftly turned to shouts of joy. There was no doubt that the choice was a very popular one.
It was reminiscent of a similar rite nearly three decades ago, when Chief Ogbeyiwa Newe Rewane, announced the death of Olu Erejuwa II, who reigned from 1936 to 1987. But the euphoria and rapturous response that greeted Saturday’s announcement of Prince Ikenwoli contrasted with the announcement of then Prince Toritseju Emiko as Olu-designate in 1987, because a section, perhaps the large slice, of the kingdom preferred Prince Ikenwoli, who was also his late father’s choice.
The response that greeted the emergence of Prince Ikenwoli, indicated that 28 years after missing out on the throne, he was still a very popular choice. His emergence was the first time in centuries that an Itsekiri monarch would be succeeded by his brother, but there was no dissent.
Prince Tsola Emiko, the first son of the late monarch, as was earlier reported by The Nation, was disqualified on the account of his maternal lineage. The 1979 gazette on the monarchy was unambiquous: only princes born of Itsekiri or Edo mothers can ascend the throne. Prince Tsola’s mother is a Yoruba.
The announcement brought consolation to the grief-stricken nation. Men, women and youths erupted in singing and dancing as their new monarch surfaced to take the vacant white chair surrounded by regally dressed chiefs.
Shouts of ‘eeeeeeeeee iwoooooooo, eeeeeeeeeee iwoooooooo’, rented the air as the 60-year-old University of Benin graduate was led before thousands of singing and dancing Itsekiri men and women.
Decked in a sky blue damask kemeje and a matching wrapper, the Olu-designate emerged. He carried himself with the same grace and dignity that he had maintained nearly 30 years after he missed the stool.
Edged on all sides by younger Ojoyes including chiefs Ayirimi Emami, Thomas Ereyitomi and Francis Omatseye, among others, the man who would be addressed as Olu of Warri in a few months, was sat on the white chair at the centre of the room.
The day’s job was done and Olu-designate had completed the first stage of a long walk to the throne of his father.
But the rite is far from finished; he still has to participate in the burial rites and ceremonies of his older brother and predecessor. The final rite of passage will culminate in the ‘Iken Rites’, at the Royal Cemetery in Ijala, one of the five most important communities in the Warri Kingdom.
The 1979 Gazette of the defunct Bendel State, which is the law regulating succession to the title of the Olu of Warri, states that the Omoba’s failure to perform and complete the burial rites and ceremonies is bar to his installation, irrespective of the event of last Saturday.
The gazette, made under Section 8 of the Traditional Rulers and Chiefs Edict, 1979, also specified that after interring the late Olu, Omoba Ikenwoli would proceed on “Ideniken” where he remains for a period of three lunar months.
The period is used to complete the burial rites and ceremonies for Atuwatse II. A very knowledgeable members of the kingdom also informed NDR, that the Ideniken is also an orientation and induction course for the next Olu.
“Prince Ikenwoli has been prepared for the role he is to assume a very long time ago; he is an Abiloye, the Itsekiri’s crown prince of sort. Apart from his formal education, he was schooled in the Itsekiri culture and tradition and that is why there were murmurs when he was overlooked in 1979. But that is not enough; he has merely passed a stage and there is now the last and final stage that will put him head and shoulder above his subjects – the Ideniken,” our source added.
