No questions were needed. Ife felt at that moment that she had just passed a challenge but didn’t know what it was. She was a woman to Babatunde.
Much later at the dinner table she gave him a wary look. Babatunde seemed to have been waiting for her because he smiled and stretched out his hand across the table, capturing hers. He kissed it and smiled again. “Everybody can see me as a king, but I am your Lion and man, Princess. I always want you to feel safe and comfortable with me. I am looking forward to you in my bed. Every fiber of my being throbs with need for you. But you have your own responsibilities and I will not stand in your way.”
“Are you going to have another queen?” Ife clamped her mouth in horror as her words slipped out.
Babatunde stared at her, throwing his head back and laughed. “You are woman after all, let me have my wife first, okay?”
Ife tried to smile but she felt jealous and wondered if she was going to be wracked by that emotion. She was not sure she liked the new feeling of being dependent on the Lion for her emotional happiness. In her tradition, a king was entitled to many wives. He inherited the former wives and was quite at liberty to add any number of his own.
“Will you like copyright license to make you feel better?”
Babatunde’s question jerked her out of her thoughts and she stared at him lost for a moment. “What are you talking about?”
"Will a certificate of occupancy to my person reassure you?”
Ife was suddenly tense, aware of the underlying latent emotion in the soft words. She felt a searing heat in her heart and she gave Babatunde a sharp look.
They stared at each other in a different world, and Ife felt his imperious nature, recognizing him instantly as her king from another incarnation. She stood up just as he did, reliving a moment back in their joint history when she was the dance queen. Tentatively she touched his clenched fist and sweat broke on his brow. The moment passed and Ife let out her breath.
“Okay you guys got here before me, I was held up.” Both turned startled eyes to Yomi who was smiling at them.
Babatunde frowned. “I thought we were to meet at the palace.”
“Yeah, but I saw you from the car window as I drove past, so I thought I might just drop in as I saw you guys were finished with the business of dinner. You were leaving, apparently.” Yomi said as he looked from one to the other. Ife gave him a smile and looked at Babatunde.
“Kabiyesi gave me the pleasure of his company while in town, Yomi.”
“Ka…Who? Lord, I am sorry Kabiyesi, that was real bad manners…you are the king wherever I might find you and I just breached protocol.” Yomi looked really embarrassed.
Babatunde smiled. “I got away incognito and you had better pretend you are still talking to Babatunde, my friend.”
Yomi sneaked a quick look round to check if they were observed and gave a low bow.
He announced he was getting married. Ife laughed and said it was about time but her smile was wiped out when Yomi said he was not marrying Wura after all.
He gave Ife a look as he dropped a bombshell in announcing Josephine as his bride to be. Both Babatunde and Ife stared at him in shock. Babatunde sat back in the seat, studying Yomi. Ife said nothing.
After a while, Babatunde smiled. “You are very lucky my friend. When are you planning to wed?”
Yomi eyed Ife as he answered that he would pick a date as soon as the wedding of Babatunde was formalized.
Ife played with the edge of the table cloth but said nothing for a while. She eventually looked up. “Congratulations Yomi. Please, I would like to return to my room. I do need to sleep. Have clinic tomorrow.”
Babatunde gave her a puzzled look, nodded at Yomi, and stood up. He gave Ife his arm and gradually brought her to an embrace, kissing the top of her head. He said to Yomi, who stood silent, “We will expect you at the palace as agreed?”
“Yes Kabiyesi, of course.”
Babatunde led Ife to his car.
There was long silence in the car before Babatunde asked if Ife had any reservations about the impending marriage of Yomi and Josephine.
Ife was quiet for a few more seconds before she replied, “I am not sure but I have some misgivings. Josephine seems really desperate to marry outside her tribe. That may not be a bad thing in itself but I am wondering if her father is in agreement. When we were in school, a young trader had been paying his respects to her father. I wonder where that young man is at the moment.”
“I see,” Babatunde replied, and added that he never saw any sign of a young man while Josephine worked at his hospital.
Both were silent as they drove to Ife’s apartment. He parked at the hospital gate and turned to her. She returned his gaze but shook her head indicating she did not want to talk. He waited. In a very halting manner Ife asked him if he expected her to stop working once she became legally his wife. She explained that she would do whatever he wanted.
Babatunde took her gently into his arms and rocked her gently. “I think you should just allow yourself to relax, Princess. I think Babamogba will be making a call on you tomorrow to ask you to pick a date so we can get all this behind us…hmmm, we will work out what the wife of Babatunde will do—not that of Oba Adeolu, my formal title—okay?”
“Hmmm…okay. I am not going to be always meek and mild.”
Ife left him and headed for her room.
~~~
The morning was cold and Ife hugged herself to keep herself warm. She walked briskly in the dawn towards the home of Tinu.
It took a couple of knocks before Tinu was roused from sleep to come to the door. She stared in surprise at her visitor, rubbing her eyes to confirm her visitor. Tinu stared at her and looked beyond her to confirm that she had no company. Ife brushed her friend out of the way and went into the common sitting room and dragged a traditional footstool to sit on.
Tinu appeared shocked. “What happened?”
“I want to talk to you.”
Tinu picked another footstool and sat. “That is easily done, you are almost a queen now, you know, you could easily send for me.”
“Yeah I know and have all those old women staring at me and clucking.” Ife spat in in irritation.
Tinu suppressed a giggle, “You are going to have me banned from the palace as a bad influence as you have not come with any guard.”
“At this time of day? Don’t be silly, besides I don’t live in the palace yet.”
“I know who is silly, so what is the problem?”
“Would you like to come to Lagos with me?”
Tinu stared.
Some seconds passed then Tinu spoke as if she was talking to herself, “I could have sworn I heard somebody knocked and that I actually talked with Princess.”
Ife laughed. “You are not dreaming, silly. I am going to Lagos tomorrow and I would like you to come with me.”
“Why are we going to Lagos?” Tinu asked suspiciously.
“I have to wear something for my wedding. Have you forgotten?”
Tinu blinked. “Yes of course I know you are not about to go naked to your wedding.”
“Clever, and you know how many days I have left?”
“Lord of Lights, it is close?”
“Just 21 days left, girl, and I am yet to decide. Yeye is practically laying eggs and I have no intention of allowing my aunty near a wedding dress meant for me. Suddenly I could do with a sister or a nice cousin; then I remembered you are actually a cousin. Can you be ready within the hour?”
Tinu yelped in horror at the idea of being ready within an hour as she suddenly thought of a thousand different things she needed to do to get ready but actually in less that time they were on their way to Lagos, a five hour grueling journey for both ladies.
The preparations for Ife’s wedding picked up pace and Ife stubbornly insisted on taking her rounds at the hospital and would sometimes nod sleep in the ante-room of the hospital.
She was in such a state when Josephine came knocking with one wee
k left before the wedding. Ife took one sleepy glance at Josephine and stretched out full length on the couch, and was fast asleep.
Much later Josephine helped her to the apartment and tucked her in. In the morning Josephine observed Ife making herself some orange juice.
“When did you plan on telling me about Yomi, and what is the name of that trader once again?” Ife asked.
“I assume you are asking about Chinedu, right?”
“I guess I am, so what is it with him; has he unmarried you now?”
“He has three boys and a girl and was hoping I would up the ante and get a chieftaincy title as Nneka,” Josephine said slowly in a conversational tone.
Ife, who was sipping her orange juice, whistled and came to the sitting position properly beside her friend. She sighed. “You did not hint at anything.”
Josephine smiled. “In the circumstances in which we reconnected and disconnected, there was very little chance of telling you my very ordinary story. By the way, my father was well aware of the situation but he argued that since Chinedu was willing to make me the official wife and pay me a handsome allowance, he started the trade, and he did not know why I was objecting. Actually I found out about Pat the wife by accident.”
“Eeek. Some men.”
Josephine gave a wry smile and asked Ife what was left of her wedding checklist.
Ife said she could barely remember her own name much less a checklist.
The old friendship had been tested severely but Ife sensed that they would always remain friends and she felt grateful for it. She was pleased that there was a real friend she could rely upon now that her wedding was close.
“How did you and Yomi connect?” Ife asked.
“He came looking for you one evening as I came looking for you too, and we talked. Was not particularly keen on picking on another male you know,” Josephine said defensively and Ife smiled.
“He was not my chosen, Josephine,” Ife said, “but he has a son—”
“I know all about that including Wura and her father,” Josephine cut in.
Ife raised her eyebrow at the snap she detected in her friend’s voice and Josephine took a deep breath before explaining that she had not planned on making any move for Yomi; in fact she was still in a confused state of mind about Babatunde and was not looking forward to anybody coming forward laying claims. Besides, she actually wanted to go into a convent. At this Ife laughed and wondered what her father was going to say about that.
Josephine chuckled at that observation and commented that it probably would have solved all her problems at that particular time.
“And then he proposed?”
Josephine looked puzzled. “Proposed? Yomi has not proposed you know.”
Surprised, Ife sat up and was about to say what she just learned from Yomi, remembering when he had told her and Lion that he was going to marry Josephine. She swallowed and noticed that Josephine was a bit confused. Who was playing games here? she asked herself.
Ife sensed that Josephine was at sea about Yomi’s intention. She silently noted that she was going to give Yomi a piece of her mind next time they meet.
Chapter Four
It was early dawn, the first dawn actually and the grove was coming awake as the rest of the village slept. Two days back, the town crier had gone around advising residents to stay away from their farms as the concluding rites for the king was being completed. This was the rite in which he received the ‘ASHE’ from Princess Numen as the chief priestess of the town. Known and accepted as the guardian of the town, she was to give her final approval. The airegbe hill glinted in the distance as the crouching figure of a lion could clearly be seen at its top. The palace had been festooned with a myriad of colors of local cloth and palm fronds. Hundreds of kegs of fresh palm wine filled the reception halls of the palace.
Today was the significant day and the chiefs moved silently in twos and threes and dressed in white native cloth to the foot of the hill. The village maidens had already left the night before and had entertained the villagers with songs at the foot of the grove. Princess Numen had retired to the inner recesses of the grove some three days earlier.
It was a double celebration as Numen was marrying her mate. Her family members had spent the previous night entertaining guests while the young girls had been given special hairdos, their faces traced with intricate patterns. Ife’s aunty had been awed by the turn out of young men who had to pretend to come knocking at their door pleading for their requests to be accepted over that of the king. It was hilarious really as they made all types of accusations claiming they had a better offer. Then there was the long procession of the chiefs as they came to the small clearing that had been prepared. Ife missed her father as it would have been him who should receive the chiefs; her intending mother in law stood in the crowd. She had come over the previous day, breaking with tradition to help her family cook the several varieties of food. Pounded yam in mounds were all over the place. Kegs upon kegs of palm wine.
Ife, who watched from her father’s room, thought she caught a glimpse of Adejare and Lucas somewhere amongst the entourage of the chiefs who had come to plead on the king’s behalf. Then came the beautiful music of the young girls as they sang and the gifts the chiefs dropped. It was a different type of marriage and she learned it was not a common sight. Tinu had informed her that most traditional kings tended to come to the throne of their forefathers already married and most times with a daughter who would have been crowned the same day as the crown princess.
However her town was unique as they only had a Lion as the protector if for any reason the king should pass on without an heir. After a lot of prayers and displays by the hunters and the young girls, Ife came into their midst dressed in a flowing white shimmering dress and handed over to Babamogba a bracelet of white cowries that was the exact copy of the one Babatunde had found in his room so many years back when he was chosen.
Ife smiled a lot but said very little. At the peak of the festivities, two white pigeons were presented by her family to the chiefs for the king. They also sent a piece of white cloth, this was to be returned to the family after Ife had spent her first formal night in the palace—a confirmation that Ife came to him a virgin. The concluding rites were to be completed the next day.
There was a sense of excitement and pomp in the air. This rite was important and the whole town knew the double aspect of it. A seemingly unknown lineage had surfaced. As if that was not enough, the Lion of the town was going to marry the guardian of the town. Some of the significance of the event had slipped into the city so there were media men sniffing around. They had met a stonewall of friendly silence when they tried to talk to the chief priest Babamogba; the king had not been available for comments as he was said to be in seclusion preparing his mind to receive the ‘ASHE’ from the Princess. It was intriguing and romantic as well.
So this morning, the grove was crowded with more than the usual villagers. Those who came were shocked and entranced by the grove. The villagers were also surprised as banks of all shades of flowers and plants covered the grove in white painted pots. There were flowers everywhere. Pots of water were kept at different points to the foot of the hill and the maidens stood with flower woven into their braids. It was a sight to behold. Some of the girls sat in groups and gave traditional blessing to anyone who approached them. They also gave out white kolanuts or water in scrubbed calabash bowls. There was an air of expectancy and people sensed that this was going to be much different from what they expected. Yeye stood at the end of the grove dressed in white native cloth and free of the traditional head-tie. Her braids were covered in so many white cowrie shells and white beads that she could not possibly have been able to put on a headgear anyway. She had white beads on her wrists and her eyes glowed. She held a calabash bowl of water in her hands ready to sprinkle the chiefs.
In the distance, a long trumpet sounded heralding the coming of the Lion. The crowds gave a cheer as they parted to see the chiefs all dres
sed in white and their wrappers tied on their left shoulders as they came in single file into the clearing that was prepared for them.
The young maidens who had been seated in circles stood up and formed an outer ring around the chiefs, carrying calabash bowls of water and singing.
Everybody watched and soon enough there was a roar and the king came on his golden brown horse with the pelt of a lion on his shoulder. Without warning, out of a clear dawn, came a flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder. The clearing was still. In a soft voice Babamogba started an incantation, giving praise to the dawn of life and expectation. He recounted the journey of the people and how they had always received guidance and help. He told of the troubles they had with the wolf-men and how they were protected by the lion, and ended his soft but long recitation with the discovery of the lost prince.
The sky rumbled again and the Sango worshippers suddenly came out of nowhere into the clearing and gave obeisance to the king as well as the hunters. As the dancers cleared a lone figure was seen at the very top of the hill. There was a white pigeon on her shoulder… and something else.
Babamogba dropped to one knee just as the king dismounted, who also knelt. Everybody knew it was going to be the critical moment. The king raised his hands and asked for blessings for his people, prosperity, and peace. Babamogba also prayed and raised his hands, starting a long song, with the other chiefs interjecting and certain members of the villagers nodding and praying too. Then he was still. Babamogba suddenly circled the king who remained kneeling. He circled seven times. He came to a stop in front of the bowed silent king.
There was a sudden shower of cold water all around and bright flashes of light, then a loud roar as a drenched king held aloft for all to see a white beaded buffalo horn and the sixteen-holed crown in white.
The crowd erupted in jubilation as the king remounted his horse, holding firmly to the horn as Babamogba placed the crown on his head. “He will not put the crown on his head again until he celebrates this day every year. He will be required to come to the grove every year wearing that crown as the symbol of his acceptance and authority.”
Numen! Page 3