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THE CARNIVOROUS TREE 2

Chapter 2

The Mad White Man

James Coburg was known in the Lagos of 1920s as “the mad white man” despite having royal connection with the Queen of England. Although his story has been muted, we owe a lot to him about the information we had on the Carnivorous tree. After the encounter he had with the tree that night, with his faithful servant Massa, he made his way to the nearest village where he was taken care of by the village chief. It is unfortunate that Massa could not survive the encounter. Even James was saved by the most unlikely thing – English mannerism for something surprising. He had covered his nose and mouth in wonderment while the negro had interlocked his fingers and placed his two hands on his head. James had caught a whiff of something while they were both on top of the moat watching the tree bioluminescent glow; a smell pungent at first but sweet smelling later. He wasn’t sure if it was survival instinct that made him tightened the covering of his nose while Massa looked on agape.

Then the unexpected happened. Massa began to move towards the tree as if in trance! At the same time it registered on James, a bookworm of no special preference, what has happened. Zombiefication may not be new in the science of animals and plants of today’s world, but it was in the time of James and he was well aware of it. Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is popular in this respect. It was newly discovered at the time by Alfred Russel Wallace in 1859 and has been established that they are predominant in the tropical forest ecosystem. It is an entomopathogen or insect pathogenising fungus; that means the chemical substance secreted by the fungi alters the behavioural pattern of infected animals , ants in this case. The infected ant will leave its nest and wander “aimlessly” down to the floor of the forest where temperature and humidity are suitable for fungal growth. Then with one last sorrowful bite, it will lock its mandible on the underside of a leaf and wait patiently for the agent of death inside him to take full charge of its body. The slow painful death takes 4 to 10 days. The sprout, already growing through the head of the ant and feeding on its brain, will burst open to release fungus’s spores. Call that out of the old came new.

The world of mind control in animals and plants is from the horrible to the despicable and kinky and merciless. There have been close to 10 zombification cases known since then. The flatworm, Leucochloridium paradom, leaves its eggs live in the guts of birds then gets dispersed through their droppings. A snail chanced to feed on the droppings gets the flatworm into its body where it develops into a larva in the hollow of the snail pole eyes, popping out eventually as adult and blinding its host and killing it in the process. There are those that cause their hosts to have sex frequently. The Hz-2v virus does this to Helicoverpa zea moths, commonly known as corn earworms. Because the virus is sexually transmitted, it needs hosts that propagate fairly quickly, so it forces its hosts to mate incessantly because it cannot wait for the natural mating.

Man is not safe from this battle of mind control, however noble and high we think of ourselves in the order of animals . Take the case of Malaria, we think of anopheles mosquitoes as the culprits to blame, but anopheles is as much a victim of plasmodia, a parasitic protozoan, that controls it to go out in search of human to bite as the human it bites. It is not the case that anopheles cannot survive without human blood, but the protozoan made it believe so. So, even with the high risk that it will get killed, anopheles will still come looking for man like a zombie making its way to the edge of a cliff.

A zombified anopheles dares every danger to its life to introduce sporozoites of the plasmodia swimming in its throat into the human bloodstream through bites. That is why the first thing it does is to relief itself of the troubling saliva in its gut into the bloodstream. If the saliva makes the blood light and easy to suck for the proboscis of the mosquito as science sees it, it was never intended – nature doesn’t pay you your due, unless of course it is to benefit it further. The sporozoites travels to the liver where they will multiply to form merozoites in about two weeks. From then on it is like the battle of infestation of the red blood cell by the merozoites after leaving the liver to invade red blood cells. A curious medical researcher specialising in malaria parasite at the University Teaching Hospital Ibadan, Professor Olu Odekumbi, had once suggested that merozoites at this stage use mind control substance which they secrete to win the battle against white blood cells. You would have noticed that your body heats up when you have malaria. The feverish temperature is caused by the presence of these antibodies in the blood and the reactionary battle of chemicals between these merozoites and leukocytes – the body’s infection-fighting cells. However, the merozoites send a signal to your brain and this makes you to start looking for warmth of sunlight. It is clear to Odekumbi what the larva wants to achieve with this, but it was not clear to the science community. So the research was not accepted on the basis of “teleological and methodological flaws.” But the real reason is that of the religious view that man is the apex of creation and therefore cannot be subjected to the whims and caprices of mere protozoan. The view held sway, not until we are shown the human body is a home to millions of microorganisms. If such is the apex of creation, he is a goddam poo-pit of it.

It was the village chiefs that helped James back to Lagos, and he had dreamt of his heroic welcome by the queen of England. Now, a man of no substance and estate is coming back to England as a hero, the discoverer of the carnivorous plant that could eat human beings. He had been the sole witness to the tree consuming Massa his attendant. So, when he got the news a month after he wrote the Queen that the she had sent the royal ship to convey them back to Manchester, James Coburg could not but muse at the turn of fortune he will soon be in. He had ask another white man to write a copy of his book and keep for him in Lagos. He hoped to win a scientific expedition back to the tree with notable scientists listening to his advice on how the tree gets its preys. However, he got the first shock of his life from the way Vice-Consul to the Crown James Robert Phillips and Captain Gallwey treated him on board.

Having left the eyes of the negro world, James Coburg was bundled and handcuffed and thrown into prison on-board. He would later appear before Her Imperial Majesty as deserter who caused the death of his countrymen. When he was finally released and ushered into the presence of the queen, all he could say was “Eureka, I have found it,” waiving his journal. The sunken eyes of James which he got from how he stayed in the forest of Africa did not help issues. He looked unkempt and famished. After an enquiry set up by the Royal Court to determine the case, the commission concluded that James Coburg had gone mad due to malaria fever he contacted while in the jungle of Africa – cerebral malaria it was called. This, as expert said, allowed him to hallucinate.

The last blow to James Coburg’s report came when Sir Phillips’ interview of the village chief that brought James to Lagos came. The chief reported that James was brought panting and evidently afraid of something. Although they could neither make head nor tail of what he was describing to have encountered, when they had heard that Benin warriors massacred some white men the night before, they understood that he had been among those who escaped into the bush. The chief was further convinced of this with James incessant pointing to the big iroko tree at the front of his house and even made attempt to run into it or climb it. Sir Phillips described the negro chief as a man of calm and composed nature.

James Coburg was sent back to Africa after a brief treatment as the queen was very displease with him. Four months later, the doctor that tended to him, Sir Henry Domefield, resigned from the Royal Medical Service of England and travelled to Sierra Leone and nothing was heard of him according to the Royal official report.

Ten days later, a tall silhouette figure of a white man was seen through a bar window around Opebi street, Marina Lagos. Another shadow was cast against the window, apparently of a young negro. A puff of smoke sleeked through the nostril of the Caucasian like a formless apparition, hung its volatile appearance in front of the negro before diffusing into the air. On the second day, Mr Hallock, the man employed by James Coburg to make a copy of his journal, was found dead in his apartment across the street. There was no struggle and nothing of importance got lost except a bottle of cheap gin. Although the bookshelf was thoroughly ransacked, the Royal Navy Investigative Department handling the case as Mr Hallock was in the Royal navy, saw nothing out of order. “A petty burglar made his way into Hallock’s apartment and thought he could find cash in his books; finding no cash, he made away with  a bottle of gin which he smashed on Mr Hallock’s head.” It must be negro, lazy bunch of them.

To be continued. 

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THE CARNIVOROUS TREE by Bode Oje

The Man Eating Plant Conspiracy

Of course you must have heard of the rumour of man eating plants of Madagascar, or at least the possibility of meat eating plant. You probably have discarded it as one of sensational lies peddled by some poor souls whose imagination are their main impediment to success in life. I have been in that shoe too. I have been in that stage of life where I considered anything that has not been proven by science to be oven baked conspiracy lie. Not until I stumbled on it. Not until I stumbled on the top secret of all time. The secret which North Atlantic Alliance are spending millions of dollar to make it remain a secret.

Let me ask you, have you ever heard of MUTE? That is an acronym but never ask me what it stands for. It is the body responsible for restoring hope in humanity that the flora and fauna of mother earth pose no threat to humanity. And that apart from natural disaster like floods, earthquakes, hurricane mudslides and tsunamis, the earth is still a peaceful place for humanity to flourish. The mission statement of MUTE is noble, but blocking humanity from knowing the truth about where we are is their greatest undoing. The earth is stranger than you think.

Perhaps you have read about Nepenthes, a relative of the pitcher plant which grows in the rain forest of South East Asia as a vine. the greatest cover up in respect to it is the invention of the word “insectivorous” to lessen the effect of the reality of meat eating plants on the world, despite the fact that some of these plants like Venus’s flytrap eats animals as big as frogs and small rodents. These are the known meat eating plants to humanity and they pose no threat to man.

Perhaps you have read the MUTE moderated information about these plants. For example in reference books and biological encyclopaedias, you may have read it that Insectivorous plants are diverse and represent members of three orders of dicots: Nepenthales, Scrophulariales, and Rosales. And that majority are in the Nepenthales order, including the pitcher plant, sundews and the Venus’s-flytrap. And that others include the bladderworts, butterworts, and the Australian pitcher plant. Of course MUTE has done their job very well; otherwise, you would have heard about the Noon-at-Night plant of the Niger area.

“Oganjo-dodo” as it is being called in the local dialect of the Yoruba country. There is only one tree still alive now and everybody is wishing it dies quick. Unfortunately nobody can near it with chain saw. Not even a kilometre near where it still stands today.

Is it not eerily suspicious that the science community has suddenly lack brilliant minds inquisitive enough to discover the most important question that ought to have followed the reality of Nepenthes despite the fact that 90 per cent of this community believe in evolution theory? According to mainstream biological science report, Nepenthes eat only insects by trapping them in their cup of chemical where the body parts disintegrate and become food for the plant. The most needed question to ask about Nepenthes is that; if evolution theory is true, nepenthes and these other harmless insectivorous plants surely share common ancestor with some plants like the non-insectivorous pitchers, but what and where is there common ancestor? Of course once again, MUTE is doing their job very well.

The truth about human eating plants of the Niger area was discovered by Roy Lexers. Again, don’t bother to search for the name because he has been completely MUTEd. Truth is that he was not a botanist despite being a renowned scientist in his field before the discovery. He was an archaeologist in the University of California who was researching on Neolithic cultures of Africa. The research was sponsored by MacArthur Foundation established 40 years ago. A research that will take him to the precipice of insanity with what he found in the Yoruba countryside. Although he came to Oke-Iho principally for his research, he and his hand-picked post-graduate students would soon discover there is a big jigsaw puzzle that has been muted here. The jigsaw puzzle span 3, 990 kilometres between the foot of Niger now called the Niger-delta and westward to the kingdom of Dahomea. He may not be

a mythologist and his scientific mind in constant revolt against anything mythical, but he knew, this part of the world was once the seat of savagery in its crimson glory.

The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle include: Oke-Iho Ola, the subterranean passage to heaven or riches; Sungbo Eredo, which he christened the Sheba’s groove, the largest moat covered piece of land in the world with no visible evidence the moat walled a city; Oranmiyan’s Obelisk marks – this is the mystery of the markings on the renowned Opa Oranmiyan. Everybody knew it is a secret code, but the big question is code to what? Some miles away from Ife to the east lies the kingdom of the Benin with a God-king who clads in crimson red. You may say that is the colour of blood, but the big question is why?

Tucked in the far away heart of Apkotokou forest in the border town of Ketou, in the present Republic of Benin lies a 450,000 years old cavern call Igbale-Aye. Believed to be the spot where first fully humans took their rise, the legend of Igbale-Aye promises a lot of future archaeological discovery that the first African Nobel laureate, Prof. Wole Soyinka, in his capacity as the Chairman, Governing Board, Centre for Black Culture and International Understanding (CBCIU) has adopted Igbale Aiye project as one of the centre’s priority for in-depth research. As he has said in one of the occasions marking the flag off of annual ceremony of the place, “There is a wealth of history underneath this ground upon which we are standing. I have a personal interest in getting it out.” Only time will tell if the now octogenarian Professor and his squad of African scholars and scientists will not be MUTEd like many before him by the “Big brother” North Atlantic Alliance.

You probably may not have heard about James Pinson Labulo Davies, an African Yoruba merchant-sailor who married the adopted daughter of queen Victoria named Sarah Forbes Bonetta. The lady was a Yoruba girl of the Egbado extraction whose parents were killed by the slave raiding Dahomey warriors on Oke Odan and rescued from being sacrificed from the king of Dahomey by a white enthnographer.

It is off record, but James Labulo had been the first to sponsor a European scientist friend to establish the tell-tale human eating tree of the Niger area. Although out of pure curiosity, James Labulo may also have economic benefit of the plant at heart for sponsoring such a discreet research, being the first person to introduce cocoa plant to West Africa from south America.

He had come upon a very useful information about the plant by chance. He was the scribe to King Eleko, the then paramount ruler of Lagos. Herbert Macaulay would later occupy the same position for the Oluwas. However, it was in one of the documents brought from the arctic of King Eleko palace that day that James Labulo came upon the un-submitted report of the visit of the British emissary to Benin kingdom that preceded the punitive expedition to the kingdom in the year 1897.
You probably did not know that among the emissary sent by Queen Victoria to Benin, there was a youngster the queen herself made to be part of the emissary. He went by the name James Coburg. Does it ring a bell that Prince Albert Francis Charles Augustus Emmanuel, the prince consort to the Queen was born near Coburg, Germany? No one is sure but it seems James Coburg had been included among the emissary to the land he himself described as “the heart of darkness”; his judgement based on what he had heard about the Benin kingdom, not a visit. Well, the Queen made him to be part of the team to the “heart of the devil” because James Coburg was being teased as effeminate. Perhaps, the queen in her wisdom thought this journey will toughen up the 19 year old lad.

Did I say “in his report”? Oh yes, I did say that. It is not a slip of tongue. James Coburg did write a “detailed” report of his own journey in his journal. But he never recorded the fight with the Benin emissaries who came to express the displeasure of the king about the white men unwanted visit. Nobody should blame the lad, he never witnessed it. On the night before the warning incident happened, James had fell asleep immediately they camped some fifty-three kilometres away from the town of their destination. That night, James had a dream and saw the king in his crimson red regalia. Whatever the early explorer had written about the king was surpassed in what James saw in his dream.

The city was paved with crimson red blood of 1000 sacrifices per day. The king himself dine on the head of humans he had sacrificed. His wives; witch-like beings of negroid appearance make special delicacy for him of the sacrifice. Well licked skulls rolls down from his elevated throne every now and then.

This dream sent shivers down James Coburg’s spine and when he woke up in the middle of the night, the first thing he did was to bolt away from the camp. A young negro of relatively the same age had followed him to bolt out into the tick tropical forest night of West Africa. The negro was called “Massa” because he refers to every European as “master” but could not pronounce the word properly.The young African also did not support the daring of the white men especially when the king had warned that Benin cannot receive visitors at present because they were in the middle of a festival where no stranger is allowed.

However, Sir Philips, the leader of the white explorer will not bow to the authority of a savage African king. More, this festival could be the much needed reason they have been looking for to nail the Benin country and its king of sheer savagery, so he had ordered them to press on.

It was during this flight of James on that night that he discovered the carnivorous tree. According to his report, it was walled up with moat. He and the negro had climbed the moat which is about 8 yards in diameter. James was taken aback when, the negro climbing the moat first, suddenly paused, fell on his face on top of the moat as if in total worship of a god, then told James to turn back that they cannot take that route. It has been said that curiosity builds courage more than wine. It was sheer curiosity that made James to climb the moat in the middle of African jungle at night and behold, he saw the carnivorous plant in all its eerie bioluminescent glory. How James Coburg’s report ended up in the attic of Eleko is a story for another day.

To read other chapters of this novel free, kindly come to this blog page.  https://afrobookstore.com/blog

Comments, views, suggestions and observations are welcome. Thank you.

Thank you for reading.

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The book – Teen of Fifteen is out!

We have a new book for you…

Image may contain: 1 person, smiling, text and close-up

Excerpt from the eBook…

When the hymen breaks, she bleeds. She is in pain. Her husband of sixty one assures her the bleeding and the pain will soon stop. Her mother also concurs. She believes her. Her mother will never lie to her.
The bleeding stops.

“Fati, I told you the blood will stop. Hasn’t it stop?” He smiles and scratches his noticeable large head, evenly mixed with grey and black hair. He has just rolled out of the bed-less mattress to sprawl on the rug after an amatory exercise with her

“But the pain is still there, Alhaji.” She complains.

“My prophecy on that will soon be fulfilled as the first one. Very soon you will not be feeling pains, insha Allah. You know, it is because you were a virgin that is why you are facing this problem of honour.”

“Problem of honour?”

“Yes. Only few girls nowadays have the honour of entering marriage with their virginity intact.”

She conceives but the pain remains. It persists on every intercourse with him during the embryonic stage of her pregnancy. His prophecy has failed. She desires an amoristic break, but he sweet tongues her: it is essential for the health of the coming baby.

During the foetal season of the pregnancy, the pain wanes. She is happy; he is happier, and increases his amatory performance. As the delivery month comes closer, the pain dies; his night exploits also dies. Her fresh, plump and spotless skin, now unattractively bulky, and most of all, has becomes watery beneath.

THE obstetrician pities her. She is a child. Her large built did not deceive him. He knows them; he has treated many child-mothers. Her opening is unripe for a passage. Poor little child; the obstetrician mutters to himself and shoots a glare at her husband.

“What is the matter, Dr. Aliu?” A jumpy countenance instantly hangs on his face.

His glowering face suddenly showcases a smile. “Nothing much, Alhaji Bala; it is just that she may need a caesarian operation to make her give birth.”
“Ha, kai, operation?”

“She is a bit not matured to give birth through the normal route. Her birth canal is not yet matured. But I will still examine her, she might be lucky to deliver without going through an operation.”

“Doctor, please, do your best.”

“I will, Alhaji,” he nods, “please, excuse us.”

He looks at his groaning wife and gives a comforting nod. He leaves.

The obstetrician did his best. Only a little cut paves way for delivery after three days of labour.

He is a boy. She sees him, so tiny. A skinny nurse holds him on her palms, drenched with her blood. Her heart smiles; the paleness on her face has clouded her smiling face. When the somnific drug begins to manifest, she sleeps.

The doctor stitches the cut.She wakes up to see the grinning faces of her mother and husband. In few days, she is discharged.

Her mother nurses her and her baby because she is a baby with a baby. The mother teaches the new mother during the six months she stays with her.

Mother returns home. The following midnight he enters her bedroom while the baby sleeps. He wants her.

“So, you have been praying for my mother to return home.”

She smiles.

Something like a babyish grin hangs on his face. “Have I not tried, Fati? Is six months a little time to wait for your touch?”

“Haven’t my colleagues been attending to you?”

“They have. But you know you are my favourite.”

She giggles. “Well, have you forgotten my wound?”

“ Haba, but the doctor has removed the stitches long ago. Is it still paining you?”

“No. but … I don’t know … em, don’t you think if you touch me it will injure the wound?”

“Haba, haba, what wound again? It is ripe now.” He convinces her. They enjoy it.

One morning when she rouses, a stench hits her. The mattress is soaked with strange liquid. She bends to look at her private part, it stinks.

She is bewildered. She removes the bed sheet and soaks it with Omo on a stainless basin. She refreshes the room with turare, and bathes. She wonders about the strange flow from her body.

She is ashamed of herself. Her husband would have seen her shame if he has slept in her room.

In few weeks, she remembers no more the ‘stinking’ past. Love making is now constants and sweet.

THE stink comes back. Her husband perceives it when he wakes in the morning. He wakes her, “what is smelling, Fati? He covers his nose with his cupped hand. He is unsure whether it is flatulence, but surely, the foulest stench his nose has ever encountered.

She springs up. The liquid flows down like a ridged path from her right thigh to the ground. He sees it; she is only donned with a red underwear and a white brassiere.

“What is this?”

“I don’t know.” She replies gruffly; her attention is on the mattress. She holds an edge of the bed sheet to pull it off the mattress without an excuse; instead, she waits, waiting for him to figure out her intention. He looks at her but her face is down”

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The game of Chess in Yoruba – Ayò Ogúnderé

Excerpt from the masterpiece of the century – Ìrìn Àjò S’ínú Ayédiméjì…
(Get the book at www.afrobookstore.com)

Bí mo tí yo̩ sì yàrá náà ni mo rí àwo̩n ènìyàn mi tí wó̩n ń s̩eré orís̩irís̩i. Àwo̩n mìíràn ńdá àpárá wó̩n sì ńwo àwo̩n tí ńta ayò. Mo lo̩ tààrà sì ò̩do̩ Bínúpo̩ta bí ó ti jókòó lórí àga kan, mo sì jókòó sì iwájú rè̩. Àgádàte̩ kan wà láàárín àwa méjèèjì eléyìí tí ó ga ko̩já ikùn wa bí a tí jókòó. Ò̩gbé̩ni náà sì wa’wó̩ sì o̩mo̩ è̩hin rè̩ kan e̩ni tí ó gbé ayò Ogúnderé kan àti ò̩ti e̩lé̩rìndòdò méjì wá sì iwájú wa. Inú mi dùn púpò̩ láti ta ayò yí. E̩ jé̩ kí n s̩àlàyé nípa ayò náà.

Ogúnderé ni eré ayò kan tí wo̩n ma ńta lójú o̩pó̩n oníkàlákìní àwò̩ dúdú àti àwo̩ funfun. O̩mo̩ ayò mé̩rindínlógún ni ó wà ní ilé èkínní tí irú rè̩ sì wà ní ilé èkejì bákannáà. Àpapò̩ o̩mo̩ ayò náà sì jé̩ méjìleló̩gbò̩n. Ìs̩o̩wó̩ ta ayò yí dàbí ìgbà tí ikò̩ méjì bá wà ní ojú ogun tí wó̩n sì dojú ija ko̩ ara wo̩n. Ikò̩ ilé kìnníí ni àwo̩n ìlàrí-ogun mé̩jo̩ níwájú tí wo̩n tò ní fè̩gbé̩kè̩gbé̩. Àwo̩n wò̩nyí ni ìs̩é̩wé̩lé̩ ogun.

Àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jè̩ ogun mé̩jo̩ sì tò sí e̩hin wo̩n pè̩lú. bé̩è̩ gé̩lé̩ ni àwo̩n ikò̩ alátakò kejì náà rí àyàfi àwò̩ tiwo̩n tó dúdú s̩ùgbó̩n tí àwò̩ ilé kejì jé̩ funfun. Orí ilè̩ tí wo̩n ńrìn sì nì e̩yo̩ onígun-mé̩rin tí wo̩n jé̩ àmúlùmálà dúdú àti funfun. Gbogbo àmúlùmálà dúdú àti funfun tí o̩mo̩ ayò lè gbé e̩sè̩ sì lórí o̩pó̩n náà sì jé̩ mé̩rìnléló̩gó̩ta. Bí o̩mo̩ ayò ba ńgbé e̩sè̩ ní ò̩kò̩ò̩kan, yíò gbé e̩sè̩ mé̩jo̩ ní ìló̩po mé̩jo̩ láti lè kárí e̩yò̩ onígun-mé̩rin náà.

Lára àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jè̩ mé̩jo̩ tó wà lé̩hìn la tí rí O̩ba kan àti olórì rè̩ tí wó̩n wà ní àárín, olórì sì dúró lé̩gbè̩é̩ òsì o̩ba. Àwo̩n abo̩rè̩ méjì ló tún kan tí ò̩kan wà ni o̩wó̩ ò̩tún o̩ba pé̩kípé̩kí tí èkejì sì wà ní o̩wó̩ òsì olórì. L’é̩hìn èyí ló kan àwo̩n elés̩in méjì, ò̩kan wà lé̩gbè̩é̩ abo̩rè̩ o̩wó̩ ò̩tún o̩ba, èkejì sì wà lé̩gbè̩é̩ òsì abo̩rè̩ olórí. As̩áájú méjì ló tún wà nínú àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jè̩ ayò yí, ò̩kò̩ò̩kan sì kángun lapá ò̩tún àti lápá òsì. E̩ jé̩ kí n wá so̩ òfin e̩sè̩ gbígbé àti ayò pípa nínú eré ayò yí.

Àwo̩n ìlàrí ogun mé̩jo̩ tó wà níwájú yíò gbé e̩sè̩ ló̩kò̩ò̩kan síwájú níkan, wo̩n yíò sì pa o̩mo̩ ayò tó bá sún mó̩ wo̩n ní è̩pé̩lè̩be̩ o̩wó̩ ò̩tún tàbí o̩wó̩ òsì. S̩ùgbó̩n tí ayò ba kó̩kó̩ bè̩rè̩, wo̩n lè gbé e̩sè̩ méjì lé̩è̩kannáà. Ìgbe̩sè̩ yí dàbí ìgbà tí ènìyàn bá fé̩é̩ s̩ígun, lé̩hìn tí o̩ba àti àwo̩n ìjòyè rè̩ tí so̩ ò̩rò̩ kóríyá fún àwo̩n o̩mo̩ ogun.

Àwo̩n mìíràn wa tí ò̩rò̩ yi yíò wu wo̩n lórí jo̩jo̩ débi wípé wo̩n yíò sáré dìgbòlùjà láìbìkítà ewu kankan. Àwo̩n wò̩nyí ni ìlàrí ogun tí ó gbé e̩sè̩ lé̩è̩méjì àkànpò̩, wó̩n sì óò yìn’bo̩n sí apá ò̩tún àti àpa òsì s̩íwájú. Eléyìí mu kí ìrìn wó̩n lo̩ gbo̩rangandan s̩íwájú s̩ùgbó̩n wo̩n kò leè padà sé̩hìn mó̩ bí wó̩n bá ti gbé e̩sè̩ kan tàbí méjì àkànpò̩.

Ayò tí ó bá wà ní è̩pé̩lè̩be̩ síwájú ìlàrí níkan ni ìlàrí lè jé̩. Èyí tí ó bá kò ní pè̩kíǹrè̩kí, wo̩n yíò kan dínà fún ara wo̩n ni, wo̩n kò leè jé̩ ara wo̩n. Bí ayò kan bá sì jé̩ òmìíràn, ayò tí wo̩n je̩ náà yíò kúrò ní ojú o̩pó̩n bó̩ sí ìta, ayò tó sì jé̩é̩ yíò gba ibùdó rè̩. yàtò̩ sí àwo̩n òfin wò̩nyí tí ńtó̩ igbe̩sè̩ ìlàrí, òfin kan wà tí wo̩n kìí sábà lò nítorípé ó s̩òro láti tètè mò̩ó̩ lò nípa ìrìn àwo̩n ìlàrí wò̩nyí, eléyìí sì ni a lè pè ní “àpalo̩” nítorípé láàárín àwo̩n ò̩ta níkan ni wó̩n tí ńlo òfin yìí, e̩ jé̩ kí a s̩ì fi sílè̩ na.

As̩áájú ni o̩mo̩-ayò tí n ó tún so̩ ìrìn rè̩ lójú o̩pó̩n àti bí ènìyàn tí lè fi je̩ ayò mìíràn. Òun ló bè̩rè̩ ló sì kángun àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jè̩ lé̩gbè̩é̩ kinni àti lé̩gbè̩é̩ keji. Ò̩gbonrangandan ni ìrìn rè̩ yálà s̩íwájú tàbí sì è̩hìn, sé̩gbè̩é̩ ò̩tún tàbí sé̩gbè̩é̩ òsì, ó sì lè gbé iye e̩sè̩ tí ó wùú lé̩è̩kans̩os̩o bí ayò kan kò bá sí ní ojú òpó rè̩. Ìdí tí mo fi pe orúko̩ o̩mo̩-ayò yí ní As̩áájú ni wípé ó ndúró fún àwo̩n olórí-ogun oníkè̩ké̩.

Nínú òye ológun ilè̩e̩ wa, olóyè As̩áájú ló maa ns̩íwájú ogun, òun sì ni olórí àwo̩n e̩lé̩s̩in. Nínú ayò yí, As̩áájú ni o̩mo̩ ayò tó bè̩rè̩ tó sì parí ìlà tí àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jé̩ tò sì lé̩hìn. Bí kò ba sì e̩yo̩ ayò kankan láàárín o̩ba àti As̩áájú ní orí ìlà tí àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jè̩ ayò tò sí lé̩hìn, As̩áájú leè dá ààbò bo o̩ba nípa kíka e̩sè̩ méjì sìnú o̩pó̩n só̩dò̩ o̩ba tí o̩ba náà yíò sì fo orí rè̩ bó̩ sì kò̩rò̩ igun o̩pó̩n.

Eléyìí lè s̩eés̩e nígbà tí o̩ba kò ba tíi gbé e̩sè̩ kan ri láti ìgbà tí ayò tí bè̩rè̩. Ìsásíkò̩rò̩ yi ni a sì ńpè ní o̩bá-paramó̩, nítorípé bí o̩wó̩ bá ti te̩ o̩ba, ayò ti tán nìye̩n. Òrùlé wó̩go̩wò̩go̩ ni àmìn ìdánimò̩ ayò As̩áájú yí. Bí ènìyàn bá sì to ayò rè̩ dáadáa, As̩áájú ò̩tún yíò wà lójú ibi tó funfun tí t’òsì yíò sì wa lójú ibi tó dúdú.

E̩lé̩s̩in ló tún kan lé̩hìn As̩áájú, ìrìn rè̩ ló sì lójúpò̩ jù nínú àwo̩n àgbà ò̩jè̩ yí. A tún lè pe o̩mo̩ ayò náà ní Sàrùmí nítorípé nínú òye ogun Yorùbá, Sàrùmí jé̩ ò̩kan pàtàkì ìjòyè tíí gbórí e̩s̩in jagun. Bí ènìyàn kò bá mo̩ òfin tó rò̩ mó̩ ìrìn rè̩ lójú o̩pó̩n, ò̩gá ò̩ta lè fi e̩lé̩s̩in pa gbogbo o̩mo̩ ayò e̩nìkejì rè̩. S̩íkúns̩íkún ni yíò sì máa mú wo̩n ní ò̩kò̩ò̩kan.

Bí e̩lé̩s̩in yíò bá rìn, e̩sè̩ mé̩ta ni yíò gbé, yíò bé̩ gijagija s̩íwájú lé̩è̩méjì, yíò sì ba búrú sí apá kan níwájú tàbí apá kejì. Bí ó bá sì jé̩ è̩gbé̩ náà ni, yíò gbé e̩sè̩ méjì sì è̩gbé̩ yíò sì ba sì apá kan tàbí apá kejì. Ìtumò̩ èyí ni pé, e̩sè̩ mé̩ta ni e̩lé̩s̩in yíò gbé lé̩è̩kans̩os̩o, méjì àkókò síwá, sé̩hìn tàbí sì è̩gbé̩; eyo̩ kan tó kù ni yíò sì fi ba sì apá kan tàbí èkejì. Nítorínáà, ìrìn e̩lé̩s̩in dàbí àmì ˥, ˩, ibi tí ó bá ba sí náà ló sì jé̩ sí. Orí e̩s̩in ni ènìyàn yíò fi da o̩mo̩ ayò yí mò̩.

Abo̩rè̩ ló tun kàn, àwo̩n ló sì súnmó̩ o̩ba àti olórì pé̩kípé̩kí. È̩pé̩lè̩be̩ tàbí ìbúm̀bú ni wo̩n máa ńrìn. Ìye̩n ni pé, òpó ìrìn wo̩n daago sé̩gbè̩é̩ ò̩tún tàbí òsì, gbogbo ayò ilé kejì tí ó bá wà ní ojú òpó tó daago yìí ni wó̩n lè je̩. Kò sì iye e̩sè̩ tí àwo̩n náà kò leè gbe lé̩è̩kans̩os̩o. Bí ènìyàn bá sì to ayò rè̩ dáadáa, Abo̩rè̩ ò̩tún yíò wa lójú ibi to funfun, tí òsì yíò sì wa lójú ibi to dúdú.

O̩ba wa ni o̩wó̩ ò̩tún olórì. Olórì ló lagbára jù nínú àwo̩n ìjòyè yí nítorípé kò sí bí òun kò tí lè rìn àyàfi wípé kò leè rìn bíi ti e̩lé̩s̩in. Olórì leè fò fè̩rè̩ lo̩ ní ò̩gbo̩nrangandan, ó lè rìn ní ìbú, ó sì leè rìn ní è̩pé̩lè̩be̩. Ó lè gbé e̩sè̩ kan, ó sì lè gbé iye e̩sè̩ mìíràn tí ó wùú.

Bóyá ni kìí s̩e wípé àwo̩n tí ó s̩e ayò yí ńfé̩ s̩e àfihàn Ayaba tó wà ní wúndíá s̩ùgbó̩n tí ó gbójúgbóyà ni. O̩ba kò leè gbé ju e̩sè̩ kan s̩os̩o lé̩è̩kan lo̩. Ó lè rìn síwá, sé̩hìn , ó sì le rìn sí è̩gbé̩ àti sí ìgún.* Ó jo̩ bí e̩ni wípé árúgbó ni o̩ba yìí nítorípé e̩sè̩ kò̩ò̩kan ni ó lè gbé bí árúgbó onìrìn jè̩lé̩ńké̩. Bí àwo̩n ò̩tá bá sì ti ká o̩ba mó̩ débi wípé kò sí ò̩nà tí yíò gbà, ojú òpó èyíkéyìí ota rè̩ ni yíò gbe e̩sè̩ le, ayò tan niyen, ilé keji to fún o̩ba náà pa ló na ayò ohun niyen.

Nítorínáà, gbogbo ìgbà tí o̩ba ba tí wa ni ojú òpó ìjé̩-ayò ilékeji ni e̩ni tí o ta tan yíò pariwo fún e̩ni tí o kan láti ta wípé, “O̩bá wo̩ gàù!” tàbí ní àkékúrú “Gàù!” Onítò̩hún sì tètè gbo̩dò̩ wá ò̩nà bí o̩ba rè̩ yíò s̩e fi ara pamó̩ kúrò fún àwo̩n ayò ilé kejì rè̩.

O̩gbó̩n orís̩irís̩i ni ènìyàn lè dá láti s̩e èyí; onítò̩hún lè gbé ayò rè̩ mìíràn tí kò níláárí bí ìlàrí kan s̩ùgbó̩n tí ó wà ní ìtòsí sì iwájú o̩ba láti dáàbò bo o̩ba. Ó sì tún lè gbé o̩ba sí kò̩rò̩ kan lé̩yìn ayò re̩, s̩ùgbó̩n o̩ba náà kò gbo̩dò̩ gbé ju e̩sè̩ kan s̩os̩o lé̩è̩kan lo̩. Bí wo̩n ba sì tí jé̩ ayò e̩nìkan tán ku o̩ba níkan, onítò̩hún yíò ma gbé o̩ba rè̩ sá le̩sè̩ kò̩ò̩kan títí alátakò rè̩ yíò fi fún o̩ba náà pa tí kò ní lè gbé e̩sè̩ ko̩kan mó̩. Nígbàyí ni e̩ni tí ó jáwé olúborí yíò so̩ wípé “Mo há o̩ba pa” tí e̩ni tí o fìdí re̩mi náà yíò sì gba wípé wó̩n ti na òun.

Bí èmi àti Bínúpo̩ta tí ńta ayò yí ni àwo̩n ènìyàn tí ńgbé àga súnmó̩ wa tí wó̩n sì ńdá àpárá orís̩irís̩i. E̩ni tí ara rè̩ kò bá gba àwàdà kò leè tayò. Ńs̩e ni mo ńfi gbogbo àwàdà tí wo̩n ńfi mí s̩e ré̩rìn-ín ní tèmi. Lóòótó̩, Bínúpo̩ta mo̩ ayò náà ta púpò̩, s̩ùgbó̩n mo tí pinu wípé kàkà kí eku má jé̩ sèsé, yíò fi s̩e àwàdanù ni.

L’é̩hìn tí ó tí pa ìlàrí ayò mi bíi márùn-ún tí èmi kò sì pa ju ìlàrí o̩mo̩ ayò rè̩ méjì lo̩, àwo̩n ènìyàn bè̩rè̩ síí wòó wípé yíò nà mí láyò náà. Mo múra tìí, mo sì ńfi sùúrù wo gbogbo ò̩nà tí àwo̩n ayò rè̩ lè gbà pa ayò mi kí ntóó ta. Mo tún ńs̩e àfojúsùn nínú mi, àwo̩n ò̩nà àrekérekè tí Bínúpo̩ta ngbèrò láti ló láti fi pa ayò mi. Eléyìí sì jé̩ kí n máa pé̩ díè̩ láti ta ayò.

Ayò ogúnderé kúrò ní kèrémí. Bí ènìyàn kò bá jé̩ aláròjinlè̩ tí o leè wòye s̩e àforírò ohun tí e̩le̩gbé̩e̩ rè̩ yíò ta kò lè ta ayò yí. Lé̩è̩kannáà ni mo ríi wípé Bínúpo̩ta tí gbagbera, ayò abo̩rè̩ rè̩ kan ni o̩wó̩ mi kó̩kó̩ tè̩, ó pariwo lóhùn rara wípé òun gbe! Inú mi sì dùn wípé o̩wó̩̩ò̩ mi ba Bínúpo̩ta lónìí.

Ayò náà dùn nítorípé ò̩kan nínú àwo̩n olóyè ayò rè̩ ni. Òun ló sì máa ńrìn ni è̩pé̩lè̩be̩ bí ìfò alápàáǹdè̩dè̩. S̩ùgbó̩n o̩kàn mi ńso̩ lápákan wípé ó fi ayò èyí tàn mí sí iwájú ni. Bí a tí ńta ayò náà lo̩ ni e̩lé̩s̩in rè̩ ńfò gìjà-gìjà síhìn-in só̩hùn-ún. Ìrìn ayò náà sì sòro láti mò̩ nítorípé ó lè fo orí ayò mìíràn ko̩já. Nígbà tí ó s̩e, ò̩kò̩ò̩kanni Bínúpo̩ta ńfi e̩lé̩s̩in rè̩ mú ayò mi, bí mo sì s̩e gbìyànjú tó ó na ayò náà lé̩è̩méjì kí ntó na ò̩kan péré. L’é̩hìn èyí ó nà mí ní márùn-ún láìlábùlà.

Mo dìde kúrò lórí ijókòó, e̩lòmíràn sì bó̩ sí ibè̩. Bínúpo̩ta sì tún fún onítò̩hún ní márùn-ún sí méjì. Níbí sìni gbogbo wa ti túká tí a padà sí orí ibùsùn wa nítorí pé ara wa s̩ì ńròó wípé orí ilé Ayé ni òun wà.

Note:
The chess pieces are:
Ìṣẹ́wẹ́lẹ́ – Pawn
Aṣááju – Rook
Ẹlẹ́ṣin, Sàrùmí – Knight
Abọrẹ̀ – Bishop
Olorì – Queen
Ọba – King

Image may contain: people sitting and chess
No automatic alt text available.
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Book Review – ÌRÌN ÀJÒ S’ÍNÚ AYÉDIMÉJÌ By Bode Oje

It breaks the age old jinx that many African languages are unsuitable for conveying scientific thought and as such, awkward or improper as language of instruction in teaching science. Research projects embarked on to disprove this view have been discontinued or, like others of its category, gone to the archive of abandonment where the only purpose they serve is for reference. This approach by Bode Oje to familiarise the younger generation with scientific terms, issues and technological possibilities is an ingenious way that should be appreciated through readership.

The novel also familiarises the reader with Yorùbá worldviews especially concerning the cosmos, the pantheon and elements of scientific and logical thinking in traditional Yoruba thought system. This is a carry-on from the works of the legend and the giant of Yoruba literature, Pa D. O. Fágúnwà. In fact Ọ̀jẹ̀ follows his footsteps in giving characters of his writing names that will instantly reveal the behaviour or physical characteristics of such a person.

Dúródọgbọ́n, the name of the inquisitive boy who is the first narrator in the novel for example, hints of the ideal temperament one should have in pursuit of knowledge or wisdom. However, on the epistemological terrain, it challenges the prevailing view that ‘knowledge becomes understanding’ tangentially suggested by D.O. Fágúnwà in his wisdom personified character of Ìmọ́dòye, in his classic of Yoruba novels ÒGBÓJÚ ỌDẸ NÍNÚ IGBÓ IRÚNMỌLẸ̀.

Although Fágúnwà was not a trained epistemologist like Ọ̀jẹ̀, the name of this particular character from his book has become the banner of anything intellectual, academic, scientific and philosophical among the indigenous Yoruba. Thus Ọ̀jẹ̀ brings to life another character named Òyédìmọ̀ to project and accentuate his conviction that such view puts the cart before the horse and that it is understanding that becomes knowledge.

To summarize the novel, a group of scientists left on a mission to an Earth-like natural satellite of a giant planet discovered some light years away from the Earth. They were amazed the conditions of the new planet were close to mother Earth’s and can support life.

However, they did not expect and were not prepared for what they subsequently encountered. This turn of events will hurry them off the planet into the abyss of space where they will travel back in time unknowingly. By the time they reached Earth, civilization was yet to occur and they suddenly realized they are now saddled with the responsibility of kick-starting human civilization.

Meanwhile, a page had been torn off the book where this story is written. A page so vital to the whole story and also to the life of the person who stole it. Watch as a young boy and his uncle try to unravel the mystery of the stolen page: an investigation that will question your perspective about Yoruba artefacts and take the two investigators down a primordial Cave of Fossils.

Novel in Yorùbá literary world, this page-turner will hold you spell-bound to the last page as you can’t wait for the mystery to be unravelled.
This is a masterpiece! An ingenious blend of scientific facts with Yorùbá myths and worldview. It is available at www.afrobookstore.com

Buy one, buy all!

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The book – ÌRÌN ÀJÒ S’ÍNÚ AYÉDIMÉJÌ is out

Launching! Launching!! Launching!!!

The book is out at last! Science fiction written in Yorùbá language from A to Z. The title of the book is: ÌRÌN ÀJÒ S’ÍNÚ AYÉDIMÉJÌ.

Synopsis:
A group of scientists left on a mission to an Earth-like natural satellite of a giant planet discovered some light years away from the Earth.

They were amazed the conditions of the new planet were close to mother Earth’s and can support life. However, they did not expect and were not prepared for what they subsequently encountered.

This turn of events will hurry them off the planet into the abyss of space  where they will travel back in time unknowingly. By the time they reached Earth, civilization was yet to occur and they suddenly realized they are now saddled with the responsibility of kick-starting human civilization.

Meanwhile, a page had been torn off the book where this story is written. A page so vital to the whole story and also to the life of the person who stole it. Watch as a young boy and his uncle try to unravel the mystery of the stolen page: an investigation that will question your perspective about Yoruba artefacts and take the two investigators down a primordial Cave of Fossils.

Novel in Yorùbá literary world, this page-turner will hold you spell-bound to the last page as you can’t wait for the mystery to be unravelled.


This is a masterpiece! An ingenious blend of scientific facts with Yorùbá myths and worldview. It is available at afrobookstore.com


Buy one, buy all!