7. Olurombi

7. Olurombi
A very, very long time ago when Iroko (large, solid and long-lasting wood tree from West Africa) was believed to have special powers, there was a woman called Olurombi. Olurombi lived in Abẹlẹ, a town in a faraway country where people consulted the tree for different reasons, asking for help. They believed that all they had to do was pledge something to the tree to make their wishes come true. Most of the people in Abẹlẹ, men and women alike – like Olurombi – were traders.

There was a market in a town called Makawo, about two to three kilometres from Olurombi’s town, where these traders sold their goods. Makawo Market was a very big market, famous for its availability of a wide range of goods not available elsewhere. They were in high demand, and many people came from nearby towns and villages to buy and sell there, and because there was money to be made, the competition was very fierce.

This was why traders from Olurombi’s town believed that Iroko intervention was necessary and relied heavily on it. They believed that if they went before the tree, begged for help, pledging something in return, Iroko’s special powers would work. They would pledge such things as goats, rams, lamb, sheep, for high sales.

These traders would leave very early in the morning for Makawo Market in groups, carrying their goods on their heads as was the custom. They would give themselves plenty of time to visit Iroko on the way, express their wishes, and make their pledges. It was not uncommon to hear them discussing what to offer the tree, referring to it as if it were a human being.

“What are you going to give Iroko tomorrow? It has to be more than the goat you gave him last week if you want to sell more than you sold then!”

“I’ll probably give him two goats this time”.

I’m thinking of pledging a lamb. I have to sell everything at the market tomorrow.”

Any time their wishes came true everything was put down to Iroko’s intervention, and the pledge, which was seen as a sacrifice, played a big role in this. Some people believed that the bigger the pledge the higher the favours they would receive from the tree. Not fulfilling a pledge was unthinkable and unheard of because people were afraid of what the consequences might be.

Iroko was about half-way between Olurombi’s town, Abẹlẹ and Makawo. For a very, very long time, it had stood on one side of the road, with its wide-spreading branches, but at the time of this story Iroko was in a big compound of a house where Iroko Priests, as they were called, could be found, whose job was to tend to the tree and all the offerings laid down in front of it or handed to them. Nobody knew what the Iroko Priests did with the offerings nor questioned it, and it did not seem to matter because the people’s strong belief in the tree and their offerings surpassed anything else.

Olurombi was a cloth seller. Once a week she sold her goods at Makawo Market, on Market Days – every four days – when all the stalls in the market were in full operation. Like most people in her community, she had been brought up not to question things (set beliefs, practices, customs, etc), but to just accept them. So, it was not surprising that she and others like her would stop by the tree on their way to the market.

Olurombi lived happily with her husband, Jugbo, and her daughter, Oluronkẹ . Olurombi was very popular in her town for her kind, thoughtful, generous, simple and unassuming ways. She was a beautiful woman – tall and slim, fair-skinned with a clear, glowing complexion, and lovely, shiny, black hair.

The couple’s greatest wish was to have another child, and they had been trying to do so for quite a while without success.
“How wonderful it would be to have a son!” Olurombi would often say, wistfully, to her husband, Jugbo. “A son to help you with your work as you get older and to take over when you’re too old to work!”, she would add, winking at him.

“We will one day”, Jugbo would reassure her. “Just give it time.”
Unfortunately, weeks turned into months and months into years, and nothing happened.

One day Olurombi was suddenly struck by an idea.

“I wonder if Iroko could help me with having a baby boy”, Olurombi said to one of her friends, Sarode, one day on their way to the market. “What an idea!”

“Why not?” Sarode replied. “After all I’m sure Iroko has helped some other people who are not traders like us in other ways.”

“I know, but I can’t imagine what I’d need to pledge even if Iroko can help,” Olurombi said doubtfully. “I mean, we’re talking about a request for a whole human being. Surely one can’t pledge animals – the usual goats, lamb, sheep, rams, etc.”

“Well, think about it. Who knows…Perhaps you can come up with something…!” said her other friend, Jarafe.

Olurombi did think about it. In fact, her curiosity grew everyday about whether Iroko’s special powers would work when it came to having children and, if so, what the tree would expect her to pledge. She considered different options but did not think they would be good enough to meet Iroko’s requirements. Suddenly an idea came to her one day.

“Why don’t I go and consult Iroko – pour my heart out to him about wanting a baby boy, and maybe, just maybe the tree will give me a sign as to whether it’s possible, and what to pledge. After all is Iroko not there for helping people?”

On the way to the market the following morning, Olurombi stopped by the tree with her friends, Sarode and Jarafe. Olurombi had made up her mind not to ask for favours with sales this time, but with having a child.

Sarode was the first to go. She knelt down in front of the tree.

“Powerful Iroko, send many customers to my stall today, please! I want to sell most of the goods I’m taking to the market. I didn’t sell enough last week, and we’re short of money at home,” she begged. “If you grant me this wish I’ll bring you three big goats on my way home”.

“I’d like to sell all these dresses today. Please help me, Iroko, and I’ll bring you a lamb on my way home”, said Jarafe, who took the next turn to address the tree, kneeling down.

After her two friends had made their pledges, Olurombi knelt down and addressed the tree, with no clear idea as to what to say:

“Oh! Great Iroko, I’ve come to ask you for the greatest favour on earth. My husband and I have been trying to have another baby for a long time. Please use your special powers to help me. But what can I possibly pledge to you for a request as big as this? Surely the usual goats, lamb, sheep, rams, etc would not be big enough to show the gratitude I’d feel if I were to have the son I so want? I can only show my gratitude for such a favour by pledging something that I value highly. Short of pledging my daughter, Oluronkẹ , whom I value most, I can’t think of anything else. Please help me! Give me a sign as to whether you can help me and what you want me to pledge.

Please…Please… Powerful Iroko!

By now Olurombi was crying as she appealed to Iroko. The two friends, Sarode and Jarafe were feeling so sorry for her as they observed her pouring her heart out to Iroko in this manner and did not follow what she had been saying word for word. They heard something about Olurombi’s daughter, Oluronkẹ .

“Did you hear that? Has Olurombi just pledged her daughter, Oluronkẹ , to Iroko?” Sarode asked Jarafe, aghast.

“I don’t think she’s actually done so,” Jarafe replied.

“But supposing Iroko thinks so?” Sarode continued, afraid.

Olurombi looked up and wiped her tears when she caught the gist of what her friends were saying. At the same time there was a whispering of wind in the tree.

“Oh dear! Is this a sign from the tree that my wish will be granted? What about the pledge? I haven’t pledged anything!” she said to her friends, and when she saw uncertainty on their faces, quickly went on:

“You think I have?”

“Let’s get away from here,” Olurombi said suddenly, when there was no answer from her friends, getting up quickly from the ground where she had been kneeling before Iroko. “I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing in coming here.”

She was so confused about what had just happened and could not wait to get home to tell her husband about it. However, she had to sell her goods at the market first, and this she did without caring whether she made any profits or not. Her friends, on the other hand, were pleased with their sales, and put their success down to Iroko’s intervention.

“Let’s go and buy what we’ve promised Iroko,” Sarode said to Jarafe.
“Yes. I’ll just pack up everything and we can go” Jarafe replied.
The three friends left the market together – Sarode and Jarafe to go and buy the goats and lamb which they would take to Iroko on their way home.

“Not everyone believes in the special powers of Iroko, Olurombi. I certainly don’t”, Jugbo, Olurombi’s husband tried to reassure her, when she recounted her experience to him. “It’s all in the mind. What will happen will happen whether you make offerings to the tree or not,” he added.

Olurombi’s husband, Jugbo, was a renowned carver. He had a sharp and inquisitive mind, and he was also creative and gifted. He was known from far and near; people came from neighbouring towns and villages not only to give him work, but also to seek his advice on things in general, because he was a shrewd, knowledgeable and broad-minded man, and they always valued his advice. He was a responsible, good-natured man who was well-respected in the community, especially for his devotion to his family.

“But supposing the whispering of wind in the tree is a sign – Iroko’s acknowledging my request and what he took to be my pledge”, Olurombi insisted.

“What pledge? You didn’t make any pledge,” her husband tried to reason with her. Knowing that whatever he said was not going to change Olurombi’s beliefs about Iroko, he added:

“Don’t worry, my dear. Everything will be all right”.

With her husband’s support and understanding Olurombi pushed all thoughts of Iroko out of her mind and settled back to her normal life. She went to the market every market day to sell her goods and did not go near the tree.

“We’re going to have a baby!” Olurombi announced to her husband a couple of months later. She was overjoyed. Suddenly she remembered Iroko and found herself saying:

“It’s Iroko’s doing! Iroko has helped me. I’m so happy I asked him for help!”
“No, my dear, we’re just lucky. Don’t you start thinking about the tree. Just think about the baby we’re going to have,” Jugbo, her husband, advised her, putting his arms around her.

Olurombi did exactly that. She was so excited to think of anything else – certainly no thoughts of fulfilling any pledge to Iroko Tree entered her mind.

“How wonderful it would be to have a son? What shall we call him if it’s a boy?” she shared her joy with Jugbo one day.

“I’ll leave that to you,” Jugbo replied, not wanting to dwell on whether the baby would be a girl or a boy, so as not to be disappointed.

When Olurombi gave birth to a baby boy few months later, her joy knew no bounds.

“How wonderful! How lovely he is! He looks just like you, Jugbo!” she said to her husband excitedly.

Oluronkẹ , who was now sixteen years old, was very excited as well to have a baby brother, whom they named Gberale, and could not wait for him to grow up.

“He and I will do things together – go places! I’ll show him off to people. “This’s my brother I’ll say…I can even pass him off as my child!” she joked, winking at her mother.

“I’ll take care of Gberale for you anytime you go to the market,” she added.

“I’m not going to go to the market for a long time, if at all, Oluronkẹ . We’ve been waiting for ages to have Gberale, and I’m going to devote all my time to him.”

This was exactly what Olurombi did. She took good care of Gberale – fed him well. She had no thoughts for anything else (apart from her husband and Oluronkẹ of course). Certainly, no thoughts of fulfilling any pledge to Iroko entered her mind, especially as she was now completely removed from the scene – from going to the market with her friends and calling on Iroko on the way as she used to do.

Unfortunately, three months later Gberale became ill.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Gberale? He’s not feeding well; he’s hot and fretful all the time,” Olurombi told her husband.

“We’d better take him to a doctor” Jugbo suggested.

Gberale was taken to a doctor, but after a few days and there was no improvements, Olurombi and her husband took him to another doctor, with the same result. After a few more visits to other doctors it became obvious that none of the doctors knew what was wrong with Gberale.

“I don’t understand. I’ve been taking good care of Gberale; his illness is not as a result of anything I’ve done wrong. There must be another reason why he’s ill.” Olurombi confided in her husband.

“Maybe this sometimes happen to children – they’re ill for a while for no concrete reasons, and then they get better again” Jugbo pointed out quickly and reassuringly, hoping that Olurombi’s thoughts would not start drifting towards Iroko.

“I hope you’re right” Olurombi replied, relaxing slightly.

However, as her son continued to be ill Olurombi’s thoughts did start to drift towards Iroko. She suddenly remembered her visit to the tree and started feeling the same way she felt on that day.

“Perhaps it is Iroko’s doing,” she blurted out to her husband. “Perhaps he does believe that I pledged Oluronkẹ that day, and he’s trying to tell me to fulfil the pledge. Is this why Gberale is ill? Supposing he dies!”

“No, no, no, my dear,” Jugbo answered in a comforting manner, and put his arms around his wife. “Gberale is not going to die.”

“You’re right. I didn’t pledge Oluronkẹ to Iroko and there’s no way I’m going to surrender her to the tree. Surely no one would expect me to give up a child to save another child! That would be too cruel. I love my two children.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jugbo replied, happy with what his wife had just said, thinking that she was beginning to see reason about Iroko.
Olurombi, intercepting her husband’s thoughts, decided to push Iroko away from her mind yet again. But no matter how hard she tried she found her thoughts drifting to the tree. She was deeply troubled, unhappy and confused, but she decided to keep her feelings to herself this time – to hide them from her husband and daughter. Instead, she unburdened to her friends.

“What am I going to do? I can’t ask Iroko to help me again. How can I? I didn’t fulfil any pledge after Gberale was born. The tree wouldn’t help me now,” she finished saying.

Olurombi’s friends did not know what to say, but they must have told other people about Olurombi’s predicament immediately after, because very soon the whole town was bustling with it. People seemed to believe that Olurombi actually pledged her daughter because everywhere Olurombi went she would hear them singing:

Olukaluku n jẹjẹ ewurẹ Each one of us pledges goats
Ewurẹ, ewurẹ
Olukaluku n jẹjẹ aguntan Each one of us pledges sheep
Aguntan gọlọsọ
Olurombi jẹjẹ ọmọ rẹ Olurombi pleges her child
Ọmọ rẹ a-pọn-bi-epo Her ‘palm-oil’ skinned daughter
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jain-in
Iroko Jan-in Jain
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko
Jan-in Jain
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jain-in
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jain
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jain-in
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jain
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jan-in
Iroko Jan-in Jain-in
Olurombi o,
Jan-in Jain
Iroko Jan-in Jan-in

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had started thinking about Iroko again, Olurombi? You know that even if I myself don’t believe in the tree I’d still understand” Olurombi’s husband, Jugbo, said to his wife, when he realized what she must have been going through.
“Oluronkẹ and I love you and we’ll get through this. Don’t listen to whatever anyone says on the subject and let them continue to sing about you for as long as they like. They’ll want to give you all sorts of advice instead of telling you to push the whole thing out of your mind,” he added.

Jugbo was right. When Gberale still did not get better, some people started to advise Olurombi – for their own selfish reasons.

“You have to give Oluronkẹ up to Iroko. Otherwise the tree may not want to help anyone else again. This is why Gberale is ill”.

“But I didn’t actually promise to do so” Olurombi tried to explain the incident to anyone who cared to listen.

“If you gave Oluronkẹ up, you can still ask Iroko to give you another child. Just remember to pledge an animal and not a human being this time!” was another suggestion.

“It’s out of the question. I can’t give Oluronkẹ up, and I don’t want Gberale to die either,” Oluronkẹ would reply stubbornly.

How could she give up Oluronkẹ – Oluronkẹ , who, as she grew up was considered even more beautiful than her mother. She too was tall and slim, fair-skinned as her mother, and with the same lovely, velvety complexion, and thick, long, black, shiny hair. However, Oluronke’s complexion had an added blazing tone to it that reminded people of palm-oil and earned the description “apon bi epo”. Oluronkẹ was a well-behaved, lively and pleasant girl – the apple of her parents’ eyes, and loved by everyone else around, who thought she could do no wrong. It was not surprising that a lot of people sympathized with Olurombi in her predicament.

“Why don’t you take what most traders offers to Iroko – the usual goats, lamb, sheep, rams etc. Just make sure that you offer more than anyone has ever done,” they advised her.

Olurombi headed their advice. She started taking different things to Iroko, but nothing changed. Gberale did not get better.

“Why don’t you just take Oluronkẹ to Iroko and see what happens?” Jugbo advised his wife shortly after this.

Olurombi was so shocked that she dropped a carving that she was in the process of dusting.

“I don’t believe I heard that. You actually want our daughter to be sacrificed to Iroko?” she asked aghast.

“Who’s said anything about sacrifice?”

“What do you mean then?” Olurombi asked confused.

“People are singing all over the town that you’ve pledged Oluronkẹ instead of what others pledge to Iroko – you know, the usual goats, lamb, sheep, rams. They’re horrified about the whole thing and are frightened for Oluronkẹ . They believe that Iroko has special powers and that Oluronkẹ will lose her life. How these special powers work they don’t know….

“So?” Olurombi interrupted

“Now, let’s take what we know” Jugbo continued quickly.

“Unlike in the past Iroko is now tended to in a compound of a house by Iroko Priests. Offerings are put in front of the tree or in the case of bigger things like goats, lamb, sheep etc – tied to the trees in the compound. Otherwise everything is handed over to the priests when they’re around. Now, what actually happens to all the things?”

“I don’t know…Nobody knows” Olurombi replied, bewildered.
“I know you don’t and that’s my point. Think about it,” he continued excitedly.

“Do you think that the animals are slaughtered – you know, sacrificed at the altar, as it were, to Iroko, and that the same thing will happen to Oluronkẹ as well? What about the offerings that are not animals or people?”

“I’ve no idea. I’ve never thought about it”, Olurombi replied, failing to see where all this was leading to.

“Okay. Supposing the animals are slaughtered after they’ve been handed over to the Iroko Priests, do you think the priests will let the same thing happen to Oluronkẹ ? They’re priests you know. Priests wouldn’t take lives or want to be responsible for loss of lives. This is why I don’t believe anything will happen to Oluronkẹ if we were to take her to the tree as I’ve suggested, and hand her over to the Iroko Priests. I’m sure they’ll tell us to take her back home and not worry!” Jugbo continued.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to take any chances. Oluronkẹ will not be taken to the tree and handed over to any priests”.

“Oluronkẹ would double over with laughter if she hears this. You, my dear, can’t see the funny side to my suggestion because you’re too preoccupied with this tree”, Jugbo mused.

Unlike her mother, Oluronkẹ was inquisitive and curious about things around her. She questioned anything and everything – sometimes things that others were afraid to so as not to cause offence. Surprisingly this characteristic of Oluronkẹ , together with her openness, frankness and sense of humour endeared her to others even more. Men and women alike, young and old always found her interesting to talk to, entertaining and refreshing; she made them laugh with some of the things she came up with. She was like a breath of fresh air. Altogether everyone saw her as a special person and adored her.

“There won’t be any risks involved in taking Oluronkẹ to the tree, but she doesn’t even need to go there. We can just continue as we are”, Jugbo said.

He picked up Olurombi’s hand.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that nothing is going to happen to Oluronkẹ , whatever we do about her, my dear. As for Gberale, he’ll get better. Just try and push the whole thing out of your mind”.

“Wish she could!” Oluronkẹ who, unknown to her parents, had heard everything they had been saying, thought. She had been out and had come back to the house unexpectedly to get something from her room, and the walls were so thin…

Oluronkẹ was not unaware of what was going on. She knew people were singing all over the town about her mother and her and Iroko – about her mother supposedly pledging her to the tree instead of the usual goats, lambs, sheep that others were pledging. Some of her friends had even been asking her what she was going to do about the matter.

“Just offer myself to Iroko, of course!” she had answered stretching out her hands in an exaggerated manner to demonstrate how she would do it. They had chided her – telling her not to be so frivolous about the whole thing.

“This’s not a joking matter, Oluronkẹ ”, but they could not help laughing because of the way and manner she had spoken.

“Your brother may die. Don’t you love him and care about him?”

“Of course, I do, but what do you expect me to do other than offer myself to Iroko – just like others make their offerings to the tree?”, she asked.

“You can’t be serious”

“Try me!”

“Aren’t you afraid that you’ll die?”

“I don’t believe that I’ll die”
Her friends looked at her and then at each other. They shook their heads in wonder.

Oluronkẹ did not expect them to understand. There was no point in telling them her views about Iroko. Unfortunately, as much as she got on well with everyone around her, Oluronkẹ found that it was only her father she could really talk to about things and expect to understand fully – things that she considered very important. She found that she could not really talk to her friends about these things, and she longed to meet someone of her own age that she could really share her innermost thoughts with.

She had had her views about the tree ever since, as a child, her mother had taken her along with her to the market to help her on a few occasions, which she enjoyed. They had stopped by the tree on the way, and the whole experience had filled her with wonder. She had asked all kinds of questions:

“Why do you and your friends always talk to Iroko, mother – begging it to help you? It’s only a tree! Do you think it can hear you let alone help you?

“What do you want the tree to do with all these goats, lambs, rams, sheep etc?”

But her mother had had nothing to say on the subject except what others who believed in Iroko had been saying for years.

“This practice has been going on for ages, Oluronkẹ . It has been handed down to us…”

Luckily Oluronke’s father shared Oluronke’s views on the tree so she had been Abẹlẹ to discuss them with him.

“Perhaps one day we’ll be Abẹlẹ to prove people wrong about Iroko, father”, she had said.

After overhearing her parents’ conversation about Iroko that day, Oluronkẹ started to weigh up what to do. She knew that her mother would object strongly to her going to the tree and handing herself over to the Iroko Priests, and that her father would not want her to go against her mother’s wish. But she had to do something.

“I have to take matters into my own hands. I’m sure the Iroko Priests won’t harm me. I can’t just disappear miraculously either, and I certainly don’t believe that I’ll die!”

Oluronkẹ was very considerate and thoughtful and she loved her family very dearly. She felt deeply concerned about her mother’s plight. When she first learnt about the latter’s unfortunate experience on the day the whole issue of pledging her (Oluronkẹ ) to Iroko started, she just wished she had been there to quickly allay her fears. She could imagine herself saying something like this “My mother has not pledged me to you Iroko” or “I’m not being pledged to you, Iroko, so please ignore what my mother has just said” to diffuse the situation. “Please…please don’t think she has…”

In the end Oluronkẹ decided to observe on the quiet what was going on in the compound where Iroko was housed – what the Iroko Priests were up to before taking further action.

“I wish there were someone I could discuss my plans with – someone who understands, since I can’t tell father that I’m planning to take matters into my own hands” she said to herself.

For the next two days Oluronkẹ went in the vicinity of Iroko and hid behind some bushes and trees, choosing a time of the day when she hoped to see other activities other than traders arriving kneeling down before the tree, begging for favours, bringing offerings. She observed that there was no sound from the interior of animals being slaughtered. She heard the Iroko Priests praying from inside a room in the house later on in the evening.

Unknown to Oluronkẹ she had been observed on the two occasions that she was there by a young man.

“What’re you doing here? I know you’re not one of the people who consult Iroko – who come here bearing gifts. There must be another reason why you’re here. What’s your name?” the young man approached Oluronkẹ and asked her.

“I’m Oluronkẹ , Olurombi’s daughter” Oluronkẹ replied wondering who he was.

“So, you’re Oluronkẹ . I’ve heard about you. You’ve caused quite a stir in the town. Everyone is afraid for you – concerned about your safety” he continued.

“Well I’m not afraid. I’m just going to offer myself to the tree – you know hand myself over to the Iroko Priests,” Oluronkẹ said with an exaggerated gesture.

The young man was struck by Oluronke’s bluntness as well as her boldness – her lack of fear for the tree was quite refreshing after the people he had seen and heard talking to it, begging it, promising all sorts of things.

“I’m in luck. You can hand yourself over to me!” he replied flirtatiously, with a glow in his eyes.

“What!”

“I’m Sẹgirere, the son of one of the Iroko Priests, so that makes me qualified,” he went on quickly when he saw surprise and amusement in her eyes.

Oluronkẹ had had boys showing interest in her – flirting with her but none of them had caught her interest; she had not singled out anyone of them. But now she found herself responding.

“I come here to help my father – only with work in the compound” he started. ”I am not part of what goes on here” he went on quickly.
“You don’t believe in the special powers of the tree then?”

“Absolutely not. Ever since I was a child, I’ve not been Abẹlẹ to understand what goes on here. I’ve asked myself again and again why so many people attach so much importance to the tree – why their lives evolve round it, especially the traders and why they bring all these animals here!” he confessed.

Oluronkẹ found herself telling this young man about herself – about how she questioned everything, how the only person she could really talk to was her father. She felt some kind of affinity with him, and this was someone whom she had only just met.

Sẹgirere found Oluronkẹ a breath of fresh air. She was so lively, open and funny with a sense of humour that resembled his; she was quite unlike any of the other girls that he knew.

They chatted about Iroko and other things – completely at ease with each other, laughing at the extremes some of their people went to, to achieve things.

“What do you think goes on here?” Oluronkẹ asked Sẹgirere.

“I’ve seen the Iroko Priests, including my father, leaving the compound with some offerings” Sẹgirere intimated.

“What do you think happens to the animals?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that the animals are not being killed – you know slaughtered at the altar as sacrifice to Iroko. Nothing like that is going on here. I don’t know where the animals and other offerings are taken to, but I don’t believe the animals
are killed. I also know that the priests pray inside the house most of the time.

“You know what” he continued, “I’m going to talk to my father about you. I’m sure he’ll not divulge what they do with the offerings to me, but he’ll help us in any way he can”.

“Come back tomorrow” he continued naming a time which Oluronkẹ agreed to, and they parted from each other both looking forward to the following day.

When Sẹgirere broached the subject later on that evening, his father, an Iroko Priest, said calmly:

“It’s enough for you to know that we’ve never had anyone bringing a human being here as offering to Iroko, and that there’s no way we’ll harm another human being.”

“I knew it” Sẹgirere thought.

“She can come here if she wishes and hand herself over to us, but I can tell you now that we’d just tell her to go home” Sẹgirere‘s father said.

The following day Sẹgirere told Oluronkẹ what his father had said to him, and Oluronkẹ thanked him.

“This is more or less what I said to your mother,” Oluronke’s father exclaimed when his daughter confessed to him all that had been happening relating to Iroko.

“That’s the end of it then. You’ll do nothing and I’m sure nothing will happen to you, and Gberale will get better” Jugbo advised his daughter.

“Didn’t I tell you that unless something is done about Iroko Gberale will not get better” Olurombi complained to her husband a couple of days later, when Gberale had still not recovered.

“Don’t worry. Gberale will be all right, Olurombi” Jugbo kept on saying to this wife. On that same day, Sẹgirere confided in his father:
“Oluronke’s brother is still ill, father. Oluronkẹ told me today. She also told me that her mother is still putting everything down to Iroko. Do you believe in Iroko father?”

“It’s not a question of whether I believe in the tree or not. I can’t influence people’s beliefs either. I’m a priest first and foremost and my duty is to pray for others whatever their beliefs are. What being an Iroko Priest just means is that someone has to take practical steps. We don’t know what happened in the past, but it’s not practical to leave animals in front of the tree. So, this is why we stepped in – came up with the idea of housing the tree in a compound of a house and tending to it, and all the offerings brought.”

“But what about the offerings, father. What really happens to them?”
“We pray for the people who bring the offerings here and what we do with the offerings is zealously guarded. It’s better that way.” he continued.

“What do you suggest Olurombi should do, father?”

“I’ll pray for Olurombi and her family and for guidance as to what she could do”.

“Why don’t you offer something to Iroko that money can’t buy?” Sẹgirere’ father suggested to Olurombi whom he had asked his son to invite to their house a couple of days later.

“Money can’t buy the child you believe was granted you through Iroko’s intervention. Perhaps you can make something for the tree – something special, something that requires a lot of time, effort and expertise – to show your appreciation,” he continued. Then an idea suddenly came to him and he went on quickly:

“Your husband is a carver, and a good one at that from what I’ve heard. Why doesn’t he carve a big doll in the image of Oluronkẹ . You can dress it up as you would a human being. You can then take the doll to Iroko.”

“I’ll just beg Iroko to accept the doll that my husband, who’s the best carver around here and beyond, has taken great pains to carve for him, in appreciation of what he did for us…” Olurombi joined in excitedly.

“Exactly!” the Iroko Priest replied.

Olurombi thanked him and went home much happier than she had been since her son’s illness, and told her husband about the the Iroko Priest’s suggestion. Jugbo went to work. Within a couple of days, he had carved a big doll – a splitting image of Oluronkẹ .

Olurombi brightened up immediately she saw the doll. She was so happy and excited.

“You’re marvellous. This is brilliant!” she said, thanking him.

When the doll was dressed up it looked so real that anyone who saw it would have mistaken it for a human being. Olurombi took the doll to Iroko that same evening. When she got there, she knelt before the tree, talking and weeping:

“Iroko, I’ve brought you my daughter, Oluronkẹ – not in the flesh, but this doll that my husband has devoted a lot of time, care and attention to, to please you. I didn’t mean to pledge Oluronkẹ herself when I came to you before. I was just appealing to you to help me to have a child, and to let you know that there was no pledge I could have made to show my appreciation to you. Please try and understand. I did not mean to offend you. Please help me. Don’t let Gberale die…”

When Olurombi finished speaking and was about to go home, there was a whispering of wind in the tree just like at the other time. Olurombi was happy because she took this as a sign from Iroko that her gesture had been approved.

“Iroko has granted my wish. Gberale will get better. I’m sure of it!” Olurombi said to herself with delight, hurrying home to tell her husband what had happened.

A couple of days later Gberale started to get better, and the whole family rejoiced over this.

“Didn’t I tell you that Gberale is going to be all right?” Jugbo asked Olurombi.

Olurombi did not answer. She just smiled. She smiled because she still put everything down to Iroko’s doing. However, she decided, here and there, never to go near the tree again!

Sẹgirere was happy to hear of the recovery of Oluronke’s brother. Naturally he and Oluronkẹ did not put the recovery down to Iroko’s intervention. They were happy though that the tree had played a role in their coming together without their having to stand before it, ask for favours and make pledges – two people who were very similar, who could share each other’s inner thoughts, and who were obviously made for each other!