Retold History

Prior to the grim contact between White and Black continents, merry-making, ecstasy and joy always filled the air. The old rejoiced amongst the young, reeling around them every night under fat-trees humorous riddles and hilarious folktales. In a compound, lived a husband with his wives and children who ate from the same wide moulded and calabash plates with happiness. During this period, in Africa, love was at its highest and esteemed by the proud Black race. There was communal singing. People rejoiced together and cried together, but the story changed and the rhythm of life cacophonously changed with it when our colonial masters named and tagged virtually everything African as barbaric, fetishistic and demonic.

Our colonial masters took power forcefully with their massive missiles and controlled the affairs of the Blacks. They dictated what African people must do and must not do. They punished them whenever they groaned or protested against their oppression. They dictated everything-- even when husband should hover over his wife. They condemned marriage of many wives and children. They damned our culture, our heritage and our ancestral beliefs, which they replaced with their total way of life. And wonderful things about the Black race ran into extinction and are still awaiting revival after about thirty years of their so-called freedom.

Stay united!
Fight united!
Bring senses to the white oppressors!

These poetically written clauses by the prisoners at Robben Island jail, a suburb of Soweto community in South-Africa, lyrically render the problem. “My heritage, My Curse,” a stage play written by Dr. Isibor, a senior lecturer at the University of Lagos (Unilag) comes to its climax when Kevin Mogetha, a member of the Mo family, is arrested by some black-policemen for not having his pass on him in his very home-country. The black bourgeoisie and traitors subject themselves to the white order to make end’s meat and command authority over their fellow Black folks. It was this situation that led to the Soweto Uprising in 1976 and the anti-apartheid struggle in South-Africa, which consequently led to the arrest of several active protesters and leaders. Some were killed whilst some were jailed till 1990 when they partially gained freedom from their Portuguese colonial masters.

The play that was packaged and performed by the Final Year, Creative Arts students of Unilag opened with a scene which synchronized the agility and vibrant dances of the Zulu people. Samatha, a Westernized Black lady and the protagonist of the play stood between two men who were prepared to sacrifice their lives to have her as wife. One of them was completely Black with Black parents whilst the other was biracial, having Black skin and tinted hair because of his white-rapist father (whom he had never met). Both of them were faced with the problem of identification documents in their home-country, South-Africa. Subsequently, the three main characters came to a realization, in one of their numerous meetings, that they were all one with Black skin and a single philosophy. Also, they questioned discrimination amongst themselves.

Along the line, Mogetha joined a protest group but was not ready at that point in time to sacrifice his life through fighting the oppression, degradation and mutilation of Black people. Samatha later challenged him when she asked the most severe question, “Have you ever cared to ask why you are a BLACKMAN“? This brutal question spurred him to action and got him involved further in his protest group. After he was apprehended and was unable to produce his pass on demand, he was tried in a court of law. Of course, he lost because he could not afford his lawyer’s fee and was sentenced to 15 years in prison…only to escape later from Robben Island jail with another anti-apartheid leader to Mozambique.

This tragic drama replayed the historical struggle of the South-Africans against the colonial master. The frequent dances through the drama projected the ecstatic mood and atmosphere of ancient African communities. It is indeed not an understatement to say that the drama was humorous and tragic: a true tragi-comedy. A number of questions overtook my entire mind outside the main auditorium of the school. These were: “Can racism ever be put to into past”? “Can Africans ever forget the maltreatment by the Western world towards their living and martyred freedom fighters”? Having read many books on African oppression, degradation and mutilation, my answer was a resounding “No!”

Ayanda Abeke
Rumour Networks
Lagos.

Review of Osun Oshogbo Festival

Rumour Networks
Death in Africa is translated to a mere transition from the physical existence to the spiritual realm, which does not build and erect barricades against effective communication. This is established by the belief that the dead indeed commune with the living—a belief commonly found in African communities. This might be what gave the budding writer, John Mbiti the guts to say that “No one dies until completely forgotten by the living,” in one of his numerous write-ups. The living Africans count their dead parents, clan-folks, warriors, heroes and heroines as members of their families and communities, even after their physical exit. They run to the grave of their ancestors and their immortal abode, the shrine as many people call it, to seek favour, help and request for success in their endeavours.

Today in Africa, most of these immortal abodes, shrines, are now international tourism sites, where tourists flock in hundreds and thousands, seasonally and annually. The recently acknowledged World Tourism Centre by United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), Osun Shogbo received a multitude of tourists ranging from Black and Whites across the world globe on the 5th August, this year, which was set aside for the rite and ritual segment of the festival.

In the morning, the ritual-maid, literarily called Aru’gba, came out of the Osun-alcove in the palace courtyard and on her head glued the sacred ritual-calabash. Leading her way to the palace and through the grove path was an Osun devotee with a sacred curved-cutlass, with which she blessed mother-earth. Aru’gba never stepped elsewhere, except the path blessed by the woman with her curved-cutlass. And immediately after her visitation to the palace where the Oba (king) blessed her, she faced the Osun grove where Osun’s immortality-alcove exists, along with a multitude of tourists, spiritual leaders and Osun devotees. On getting to the shrine in the grove, Aru’gba dropped the Igba (the sacred-calabash) in a small hut and was taken to a cool corner within the confines of the alcove where she slept; sited beside her were the past Aru’gbas. The king arrived, not too long after with some of his chiefs. And the proper programme of the event took its due course. Merry-making overtook the semi-cold atmosphere. Drums rolled relentlessly, unleashing the energetic beatings of the drummers to the accompaniment of sonorous singing voices.They chanted eulogies of Osun and cultural dancers carved a series of dance steps to the beats and songs. The state governor (Hon. Olagunsoye Oyinlola) and his entourage with the entire guests from all over the world at the grove could not keep their excitement on hold. Consequently, they swung left and right on their respective seats like golden-fishes in aquarium boxes.

After the festival’s formal programme and rite and ritual at the grove, Aru’gba woke up, she planted the sacred calabash on her head again and faced the palace. Although, Susan Wenger, the Austrian Osun devotee could not be part of the festival, as in former years because of her age, yet she was wholly part of the whole ritual process in the Osun’s alcove at the palace courtyard, where she lives.

“Fun all through,” “Nice,” “Fantastic,” “Wholesome” and “Ritualistic,” were some of the comments of the mixed tourists (Whites and Blacks). Indeed this was what the festival projected but it could always get better next year if the Cultural Heritage Committee and the National Museums Commission of the state are really ready to expand the scope of the Festival.

Ayanda Abeke
Rumour Networks
Lagos .