23. The Dishonest Wife (Afigbaṣoyun)

A long, long time ago, when the world was very different from the way it is today, there lived an Ọba in a town called Mabayi, in a faraway land. The Ọba was very rich; he was one of the most famous Ọba in those days. His many extensive, wide-range farms, including yam, cocoa, fruits and vegetables, and cola-nuts farms were unprecedented, as well as the number of servants he had at his disposal.

Unfortunately, despite all the wealth he had acquired there was one thing that was not in his favour. The Ọba’s many wives (ayaba) did not bear him any children. Many efforts were made by the Ọba to rectify his situation, and no expense spared, money being no object, but to no avail. No one knew why this was so.

“I must have children – even if it’s just one child! How can I hold my head up otherwise? How can an Ọba especially not have children? It’s unheard of!”

After many years the wives left one by one, remaining two. Even though it was unusual for women to leave their husbands in those days, yet some of them did so if they were unable to have children with their husbands.

“The Ọba’s wives are obviously hot happy with just being ayaba, with all the wealth that goes with it – a position which many women will envy them for.”

“Just shows that a baby can’t compare to any money in the world!”

The Ọba could not understand why he found himself in this situation, and it weighed him down. He often confided in his counsellors; discussions were held. When the Ọba heard rumors that his wives were about to leave him, one by one, he could not believe it and he complained to one of the counsellors:

“My wives are leaving!”

“Let them leave, Kabiyesi! Nobody knows what’s around the corner! Continue to try, Kabiyesi! You can never tell!”

When they had all left except two the Ọba confided in another counsellor, an older man:

“One of the two, Aṣakẹ, is just a young girl – a mere slip of a girl, a girl of humble birth married off to me by her parents… The other – the older one – I chose myself. But how can I be sure that at least one of them will bear my child? I don’t want to have any more wives!”

“You can never tell what’s around the corner, Kabiyesi. Continue to try. You’ll have a child, and maybe the child is going to be special and do wonderful things – you know ‘a wonder child’. Maybe this Aṣakẹ will be the one to bear your child…We don’t know why the delay. Maybe you’re going to be blessed with a special child like I said…”

“Aṣakẹ! Aṣakẹ!” the Ọba thought, “Are you going to be the one to bear my child? Is this perhaps the reason why your parents unknowingly married you off to me?”

At that time, there were some women who refused to marry men chosen for them by their parents and were married off to the Ọba of their towns who did not refuse any woman in those days. This was how Aṣakẹ happened to be married to the Ọba. Aṣakẹ was different from the others – young, humble, simple.

The two wives remaining could not be more different from each other. Feyida, the first wife, much older than the last, was very proud, boastful and uncaring. She came from a highly placed family; she was an ọmọba (princess) and very rich in her own right. When the other wives were leaving, she was heard saying:

“I’ll not leave the palace. I was the first to marry Kabiyesi, and I’ll not leave him for another man, unless he’s another Ọba. I’m omọba and ayaba, and will remain so. I’ll have his baby don’t worry.”

Feyida would rather continue her life there where she got a lot of attention from the Ọba, especially as his favourite. She was put in charge of all the rules and regulations of the palace – what went on in the palace – and was very proud of her position. Besides, she believed fervently that she would have a baby eventually. There was no end to her boasting about herself: She was high and mighty to people around her, especially Aṣakẹ, always referring to the latter’s humble background. She remembered how Aṣakẹ was dressed when she first arrived at the palace, and her origin. Feyida had laughed at her, because her clothes were very shabby (ọmọ alakisa she had called her) and also because her mother was a bitter-leaf seller, a fact that Aṣakẹ was often reminded of.

Aṣakẹ on the other hand was humble, thoughtful and considerate. She was not ashamed of her lowly background. Her mother was indeed elewuro (bitter-leaf seller). People at court preferred her to the other woman who was very proud and boastful. Aṣakẹ went about her business quietly every day. She was always mindful of others – especially those who had less than her.
Aṣakẹ’s reasons for staying on at the palace were quite different. She had feelings for the Ọba; she felt sorry for his plight and wanted to stand by him.

The Ọba lavished more and more on the two remaining wives; he devoted everything to them – his money, time and attention, in the hope that at least one of them would carry his child.

As Feyida was put in charge of all the rules and regulations of the palace including assignments of duties she used this to her advantage to ill-treat Aṣakẹ. Everyone around was aware of the way Feyida treated Aṣakẹ, and that the Ọba would believe anything the former said about the latter, so there was no point in Aṣakẹ reporting the situation to the Ọba. Feyida maligned Aṣakẹ in front of the Ọba who was prepared to listen to whatever she told him; she tried to get rid of her by telling the Ọba tales – untruths, but the Ọba, however, kept on remembering what one of his counsellors said to him:

“Maybe this Aṣakẹ will be the one to bear your child…We don’t know why the delay. Maybe you’re going to be blessed with a special child…”
Aṣakẹ could not complain to the Ọba about the ill-treatment of her by Feyida. She did not think he would believe her.

Feyida believed that she would have a baby, and that even if Aṣakẹ had one as well, Aṣakẹ’s baby would not compare to hers in any way.

“Wait and see how I’ll dress my own baby for a start…” she boasted remembering how Aṣakẹ was dressed when she first arrived at the palace, and her origin.

“What’s she doing here? How can she be an ayaba? What’s Kabiyesi thinking of?” was her reaction.

Feyida did all she could to get pregnant, spending a lot of money. She consulted doctors – specialists privately apart from the ones the Ọba sent her to. There was a particular doctor she consulted who put her mind at rest on the matter.

“Don’t’ worry! You’re going to get pregnant.”

“You wait and see. I’ll make sure you have a baby, even if I have to steal one for you” he added jokingly.

Suddenly Aṣakẹ became pregnant much to the surprise and chagrin of the other woman. Feyida was so jealous and tried to make her lose the pregnancy. It became a huge concern for her.

“You’re not going to have a baby before I do. I’ll just have to make sure you lose this pregnancy by giving you harder work. I can’t face the shame of you bearing a child, and I not.”

When Aṣakẹ wanted to tell the Ọba about her pregnancy Feyida advised her not to do so yet.

“Let’s wait until your pregnancy is secure. You know that anything can happen during the first three months. We don’t want to raise Kabiyesi’s hope after all he’s been through relating to this issue. As a matter of fact I have been feeling sick every morning recently, and I may be pregnant too! Let’s just wait!”

Feyida was devastated; she did not know what to do. It was a huge concern and worry for her. She had hoped that Aṣakẹ would lose her pregnancy. Then an evil thought entered her mind, and she said to herself:

“I’ll pretend that I’m pregnant as well, so that no one will look at me with shame.” Then she remembered the doctor who had joked about stealing a baby for her and decided to consult him immediately.

“I’m sure this doctor will help me – come up with something. Perhaps he’ll put something on my stomach to make me look pregnant, to begin with. A calabash bowl perhaps…and later…”

“Aṣakẹ is pregnant. You have to help me. There’s no way I can let her have this baby. It should rightly be mine” she informed the doctor.

“Don’t worry! I’ll fake your pregnancy for you, and no one will ever know. I can come to the palace frequently to ‘monitor’ you until you deliver.”

“The Ọba has money, and I have my own means. So I’ll pay you anything you want to charge for everything you do to help me.”

“All right. This is what we’re going to do. We’ll put a calabash bowl on your stomach and you’ll tie your wrapper around it, and nobody will ever know that you’re not pregnant, because you’ll look pregnant! Or better still I can fit a calabash bowl with strings or a devise similar
to a calabash bowl on your stomach made for this purpose.”

“Wonderful!”

“But then as time goes on we’ll have to increase the size of the calabash bowl or the devise, so that your stomach looks bigger and bigger. Like that everyone will be fooled.”

“What happens at the end? How do we produce a baby?”

“Easy! I’ll deliver you at the same time as Aṣakẹ is delivered of her baby and help you to steal it. We just have to work out a plan from beginning to the end, and this is why I need to be on the spot to observe the progression of Aṣakẹ’s pregnancy. I’ll keep abreast of everything that’s going on with her with her doctor, and you can do the same with Aṣakẹ – you know ask her questions”
When Aṣakẹ announced her pregnancy, Feyida did the same thing.

The Ọba was overjoyed. “Two babies around the same time, after waiting all this time! Two at a blow! We’ll arrange for one of the best doctors around to come to the palace regularly – to be on call twenty-four hours and tend to my two wives. He can even move in when it’s nearing your deliveries. Everything must go smoothly until you deliver safely!”

“I’ve a doctor already, Kabiyesi” Feyida said. “He’s one of the ones I consulted before. He’s very good, and I’ll feel comfortable with him”.

“Well, well! I arrange for my doctor to take care of Aṣakẹ then.”

The Ọba did not stop at finding the best doctor for Aṣakẹ. He was determined to do whatever else was necessary for his two wives before the babies arrived, and no expense spared. He was also deeply interested in sharing whatever his wives were experiencing during their pregnancies with them.

“Buy whatever is needed for the babies before their arrival – cots, clothes etc. and all you yourselves need, and make sure you eat all the right foods…You can talk to me about the coming babies at any time you want! I too will make preparations for the arrival of the two babies. I’ll get two rooms ready for them as Nursery Rooms in due course, each one next to each mother’s room.” the Ọba said excitedly.

“The mothers-to-be deserve to have their sleep with no disturbance from the babies, especially at night. The babies too must not be disturbed by their mothers either, or by anyone else, and they’ll learn to sleep throughout the night from the beginning if they have separate rooms. Both mothers and babies will be at a hearing distance of one another in any case. I’ve waited this long. I can afford all this. I want the best for all of them!”

After some months, unknown to the Ọba, a calabash bowl (igba) was made and fitted for Feyida with her doctor’s help and was gradually replaced by bigger ones. The deception continued day in day out until Aṣakẹ delivered her baby in the middle of the night one day.
As agreed Feyida’s doctor visited the palace regularly, conversed with Aṣakẹ’s doctor about how Aṣakẹ’s pregnancy was progressing, and increased the size of Feyida’s igba accordingly. He got to know when her baby was due. Feyida had frequent conversations with Aṣakẹ as well about their pregnancies – how many months, how they were both feeling etc. in order to keep up the pretense of being pregnant.

“I’ve been sick every morning since I got pregnant. I noticed that it’s the same with you” she said to Aṣakẹ one day. “How long do you think this will go on for?”

“I’ve been told that morning sickness goes on for about three months, although some lucky women don’t even have it at all” Aṣakẹ replied.

“When is your baby due? It must be around the same time as mine. They say that a baby can arrive two weeks before or two weeks after the due date. Wouldn’t it be funny if we actually give birth on the same day?”

“Yes, that’ll be a big coincidence!”
As Feyida continued to engage Aṣakẹ in conversation relating to the babies they were both expecting Aṣakẹ felt uncomfortable about the other woman’s ‘pregnancy’.

“What’s going on here?” she wondered.

There was something not quite right, but she could not lay her hand on it. It seemed unnatural that Feyida, who had been behaving in a horrible way to her, wanted to converse with her frequently about their pregnancies – to discuss things, compare notes. Feyida wanted to know what the doctor said about the due date, about when the baby started to kick, about the drop of the baby’s head towards the end, etc. It was as if Feyida was trying to find out what was going on with Aṣakẹ in order to keep up with her.

On another occasion Feyida asked Aṣakẹ:

“I felt my baby move. Have you felt the same?”

When Aṣakẹ answered in the affirmative, Feyida continued:

“We both seem to be experiencing the same thing at the same time. If my baby’s head drops at the same time as yours, then I’m almost certain that we’ll give birth around the same time – perhaps on the same day like I said before!”

“We’ll just have to wait and see” Aṣakẹ answered, feeling uncomfortable.

The unease Aṣakẹ felt about Feyida’s pregnancy actually started from the moment she, Aṣakẹ, announced her pregnancy, and from the expression she intercepted on Feyida’s face: shock, disbelief, despair, and a few days later she announced her own pregnancy. This time the expression was of glee of “let’s wait and see who’ll have the last laugh! You say you’re pregnant. I can be too!”
To keep up the pretense of being pregnant Feyida made sure that she conversed with the Ọba as well about how her ‘pregnancy’ was progressing, especially when it came to buying things required for the baby’s arrival, so that she could refer to such conversations later on as proof that she had been pregnant.

Each wife assembled the necessary things for their baby’s arrival in the Nursery Rooms – cots and the cot linen needed, baby clothes, etc Feyida showed off hers to the Ọba – many of them very expensive, unnecessary things.

“Look at all the things I’ve been getting together for the baby’s arrival. Aren’t the clothes beautiful?” she said to the Ọba, who was more than willing to talk about anything relating to the coming baby.
She then took the Ọba to Aṣakẹ’s Nursery Room to show him Aṣakẹ’s things. She laughed at everything there especially at the baby clothes.

“Not surprising is it, considering what she herself was wearing when she first came to the palace? No quality whatsoever. Maybe she should have let me chose things for her!” she said, haughtily.

When the two wives were almost due to give birth, their two doctors moved into the palace in preparation for their deliveries. There were two midwives who would take over as soon as the babies were delivered so that the doctors could go back home after being away for quite a while from their work.

Feyida’s doctor sought her out immediately, to discuss how to go about ‘delivering her of her baby’.

“Where do I get a baby from?” Feyida asked the doctor. “We can’t steal a baby from outside these walls, so it’ll have to be Aṣakẹ’s baby. But we need to convince everyone that the baby is mine? We need evidence to show that I actually gave birth. I’ve been thinking about how to do it, but let me hear what you have to say first.”

“If all goes well, this is what I have in mind. As soon as Aṣakẹ goes into labour, I’m going to leave the palace for my house on the pretext that there’s something I need for your delivery. When I get home I’ll kill a goat and bring its blood back with me. This blood will be used as evidence – the evidence you need to back up the calabash bowls (igba) that you’ve been wearing on your stomach – that not only did you carry a pregnancy full term, but also gave birth.”

“That’s similar to what I have in mind. Go on!”

“Aṣakẹ will deliver her baby, and the baby will be been taken to its Nursery Room to be cared for, you know cleaned up etc so that Aṣakẹ could have a well- deserved rest in her own room. You’ll go into labour in your own room, and I’ll make sure no one is there except me. I know that

Aṣakẹ’s doctor may not be the only one in her room when she gives birth, but never mind that.”

“I’ll make sure though that people can hear me groaning and moaning – you know make all kind of noise that to show that I’m in pain…”

“Exactly! After some time, I’ll pretend to be delivering you, conversing with you here and there. I’ll go through the motions of a doctor delivering a baby with all the sound effects. Then I’ll smear the lower part of your body with the blood of the goat, and the delivery gown you’ll be wearing when I ‘deliver’ you. A woman who has just given birth will be expected to shed blood during delivery.”

“What happens thereafter? How do we go about taking Aṣakẹ’s baby?”

“This’s the most difficult part. Of course everything we do from now on depends on luck. We’ve been lucky so far with the igba charade, but everything now depends on timing, and we need a lot more luck. For example, we don’t know the exact time Aṣakẹ will give birth, and when you’ll go into labour, so we don’t yet know when we’ll be able to take Aṣakẹ’ baby from the Nursery Room.”

“Let’s hope that it’s in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep. Luckily there won’t be anybody in the room with the baby, although Aṣakẹ will be next door to it. You remember the whole arrangement with the Ọba?”

“Exactly! If I’m able to take the baby from Nursery Room I’ll smear it with blood from top to toe, as if it has just come out of your womb.”

“Then bingo! We’ll announce to everyone around that I’ve just had my own baby, and invite them to come and see it. If Aṣakẹ starts to argue with me that the baby is hers, we’ll bring out all the evidence, even if I have to show the lower part of my body covered with blood.”
This was how Fedyida conspired with her doctor to pretend that she gave birth, and to then steal Aṣakẹ’s baby.

Aṣakẹ was delivered of her baby early in the evening, and word went around the whole palace. There was rejoicing throughout. The Ọba was in a long conference with some of his counsellors and was not aware of what was happening.

“Aṣakẹ has given birth to a baby boy, and both mother and son are doing well!” resounded everywhere.
Feyida had been expecting this since she heard that Aṣakẹ had gone into labour earlier on that day. Her doctor had left the palace immediately to go and kill the goat and bring back its blood as planned. Feyida rushed into her room and started to make all sorts of noises as if in pain, groaning and moaning.

“Feyida seems to have gone into labour and is probably going to give birth as well. How extraordinary – the two of them at the same time! We’d better go and get her doctor immediately” said one of the women around – an older woman who knew a lot about childbirth. She was concerned.

“I’m right here” Feyida’s doctor said emerging from somewhere. “I’m going straight into her room. Don’t worry she’ll soon be delivered of her own baby as well, and she’s be alright. She’s in good hands! She doesn’t want anybody else in her room until she gives birth – except me, of course. When the time comes, we’ll let everyone know, and you can all see her and the baby then”.

In the meantime, Aṣakẹ and her baby were being taken care of in Aṣakẹ’s room. The baby would eventually be taken to the Nursey Room next door during the night so that Aṣakẹ could have a well-deserved rest, and there would be plenty of time for Feyida and her doctor to put into action their plan.

In the middle of the night when everybody was asleep, Feyida crept out of her room with her doctor on the lookout for anyone that might be around. The plan was for her to go to Aṣakẹ’s Nursery Room, and if the ‘road was clear’ to take the baby.

“In case I’m caught I’ll just pretend that I want to look at the baby or hold it, before I give birth to mine – to get a feel of what I’ll be experiencing soon. I also want to distract myself from off all the pains I’m having…”

“I’ll just say that I couldn’t control you when you left the room – the excitement you felt, despite the pain you were in, that you would soon be holding a baby in your hands” the doctor added.

When Feyida got to the Nursery Room there was nobody in the room with the baby. She crept up quietly to the cot in which it was, praying fervently that the baby, who was fast asleep as well, would not wake up or start crying. Nothing like that happened, and she was able to take the baby and carry it into her own room, without anybody being aware of it.

Once she was back in her room her doctor went to work to ‘deliver her of her baby’. He smeared the lower part of her body, and her delivery gown with sufficient amount of the goat’s blood to make it look like she had just given birth. He also smeared the baby with blood from head to toe, so that anyone who saw him would think that he had just come out of Feyida’s womb. Then he rushed out of the room, shouting:

“Feyida has given birth to a baby boy! Feyida has given birth to a baby boy!”

“Come in, come in, and rejoice with her and her baby! I’m sure she won’t mind. She’s so excited, especially as Aṣakẹ too has just had her baby” he said to the women among the first few people that arrived on the scene. He wanted to make sure that they saw her and the baby and the blood he had smeared on them.

“Congratulations!” they all said at the same time when they entered Feyida’s room and saw her and the baby, not doubting for one moment that she had just given birth.

The news of the arrival of Feyida’s baby travelled fast, and Aṣakẹ was woken up when she heard some people talking loudly about it.

“What a coincidence Feyida giving birth soon after me” she was thinking, and suddenly the feeling of unease that she had had throughout Feyida’s pregnancy came back, even more strongly than before. “Something is not quite right…Anyway since I’m awake, I’d better go and see how my baby is doing. He must be fast asleep since I’ve not heard him cry all this time.”

Aṣakẹ went to the Nursery Room and found the baby’s cot empty. She started screaming:

“Where’s my baby? Where’s my baby? Someone has taken my baby!”

She broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably. In the twinkle of an eye she was surrounding by people holding her up, comforting her.

“There must be a mistake. We’ll find your baby, don’t worry. There’s no way he could have be taken out of the palace, so he’s probably with someone who is looking after him for you whilst you were sleeping, and he needed attention”, someone suggested.

Aṣakẹ was not convinced. She was convinced that Feyida had something to do with her baby’s disappearance, because by now the unease that she had been feeling – the feeling that something was not quite right about Feyida’s pregnancy had transformed into real fear that Feyida had not been pregnant at all, and that she had stolen her baby. The penny had dropped. Feyida had been fooling everybody. Aṣakẹ pulled herself together and rushed to Feyida’s room, grabbed the baby that Feyida was holding in her hands, took one look at him and said:

“This’s my baby. You’ve stolen my baby! How could you?”

“What are you talking about? How dare you burst into my room like this, accusing me of stealing your baby? Didn’t you hear that I’ve just given birth? Give the baby back to me immediately!”

“I don’t believe that you’ve just given birth. I believe that you’ve been pretending all along to be pregnant, and that you’ve not given birth to this baby because the baby is mine.”

“How can you say that I’ve not given birth when there is blood on my delivery gown? Look at the bed-clothing, and some bloody items relating to the ‘birth’ left by the doctor. I can even show you the lower part of my body” she said lifting up her gown, in full view of everybody in the room. Please everybody how else would a woman who has just had a baby look? Look at the baby himself not yet cleaned up – covered with blood from head to toe”.

“Cover yourself up, woman! You have no shame. Whether you’re covered in blood or not, you didn’t give birth to this baby.” Aṣakẹ said.

“I was delivered of this baby by my doctor who’s left for home, just like yours has. We can always ask him” Feyida said, knowing very well that the doctor’s involvement in the whole issue ended once the baby had been stolen by Feyida.

The doctor had made it clear to her that once he ‘delivered her of her baby’ and leave her in the capable hands of a midwife, he would leave town, and no one would be able to trace him. He could do so with the amount of money at his disposal that Feyida had already given him for his services.

“I’m taking my baby with me, no matter what you say. You’ll have to kill me before I let him go!” Aṣakẹ said.

This was how a terrible fight erupted between the two wives. People tried to separate them, trying not to get in the way of the baby, but in vain. The struggle between the women continued.

“We have to tell the Ọba what’s happening immediately” someone suggested, and this was put into action.

When the Ọba arrived on the scene, he could not believe his eyes. His two wives were struggling to take the baby from each other! He ordered them to stop, which they did, and asked one of the women around them to take the baby, whilst he spoke to the two wives.

“What’s going on here? What a disgrace – my wives fighting in public!”

“I don’t believe that Feyida was ever pregnant, Kabiyesi. She fooled us all, although I’ve always had this feeling that something was not quite right about her pregnancy.”

“How do you explain my stomach growing bigger and bigger like yours then?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a device made for her – you know a calabash bowl, perhaps or something similar to have the shape it had. Covering her stomach with some item of clothing would not have had the same effect.”

“How do you explain the blood you and others clearly saw on my delivery gown just now, on the lower part of my body, on the beddings, and on the baby? I’ve just been delivered …Ask my doctor if it’s true or not and look at the lower part of my body again. If I’ve not just given birth, how come I’m covered in blood?” she continued showing everybody her lower body, which was indeed covered in blood. I can still show Kabiyesi more evidence if Kabiyesi would like to come to my room?”

“I wouldn’t know about all these things you’re talking about!” the Ọba said, appalled by what he was hearing. How could all this be happening just because he wanted a baby? Perhaps one of the babies died and the mother did not want to own up to it?”

There was no question of the other baby being stolen. Nobody could have gained access to the palace with all the security there.

“Don’t listen to her, Kabiyesi. How could I have been pretending? Don’t you remember the things I bought in preparation for the baby that I showed you, and our conversations about the baby?” Feyide pleaded with the Ọba.

“That doesn’t mean anything? Anyway, I had my baby first; everyone knows that. Unless the baby has been stolen by someone outside the palace, which I doubt with all the security, so where is he now?” Aṣakẹ said quickly.

“No need to prolong this any further. One of you is obviously lying, and it’ll be unfair to take sides. I’ve heard the two of you, but I can’t pass judgment right now. We need proof, and I must warn the two of you that the penalty for lying is very serious. Whoever is lying will be put to death. Go to your rooms now!”

The Ọba returned to his chambers, after ordering the baby to be taken care of by one of the midwives, to deliberate with his counsellors as to what line of action to take.

In those days the Ọba played a big role in the day-to-day lives of his people. He was always the first port of call. People looked to him to resolve matters for them, including petty quarrels, disputes of any sort – no matter how small and inconsequential. He was known to be ready to find solutions to problems that baffled his people – to mysteries of any kind. However, if he himself could not find a solution to any problem that baffled him, even after deliberating with his counsellors he was known to summon everybody in his town – men and women, young and old – to a meeting, to discuss the matter, and resolve it one way or the other.

“I want the whole town to gather together at the palace in seven days’ time, when this matter should be resolved. It’s true that I’m looking for a child, but not this way! I’d like to know exactly who gave birth to this baby.” the Ọba said at the end of the meeting with his counsellors.
Even though this particular matter would have been embarrassing for the Ọba, he still went ahead and called his people to a meeting. Otherwise if he were to take matter into his own hands, the result might not be satisfactory, he thought.

After the seven days and the people had gathered round, the Ọba stated the case. Naturally some would have heard about it – there were always gossips about the Ọba and the people at the palace and his entourage. Before the meeting started the Ọba questioned the wives once more:

“You’d better tell the truth now, otherwise I can’t guarantee a good ending for one of you. To be made a laughing stock in my town by two women! Women who behave this way deserve to die. Think of what you’re putting the real mother through – the anxiety etc. – doing without her child for seven days, not knowing what the outcome will be”.

“One of you is lying. Whose baby is it? Are you saying that only one of you was pregnant before birth?”

“No Kabiyesi. Didn’t you notice that my stomach?” Feyida said, knowing perfectly that she was lying.

“I know now what your stomach was faked. Tell me how did you do it? What did you put on your stomach to make it look realistic – some clothing…but that wouldn’t have given it the shape …or wait a minute – a calabash bowl perhaps…?”

Aṣakẹ stopped when she saw the expression on Feyida’s face.

“Good gracious, I’m right aren’t I? Ha ha ha. Perhaps we should call you Afigbaṣoyun from now on?

“Kabiyesi tell her to stop this nonsensical talk. Didn’t everybody see my lower body still bloody from the birth? Ask the people there; they saw it, and the items my doctor showed them.”

“Shame on you for exposing your body like that to everyone. Then maybe we should call you Afẹjẹpodi then?” Aṣakẹ suggested.

“Kabiyesi I can’t be insulted like this” Feyida appealed to the Ọba, thinking she was still in favour with him – that he would be on her side.

The Ọba asked for opinions around “It pains me to bring this matter – a private matter of this nature to the notice of everyone. It’s like washing your dirty linen in public. If I were to solve the matter myself, I may sin against the wrong woman.”

“Perhaps they will confess if they are threatened with death, Kabiyesi.”

“That’s already been done to no avail”.

In those days certain beliefs and practices were common. People followed some strange practices for finding out the truth, including the agbo (form of herb) feeding practice. Several suggestions were put forward as to how to find out the truth about the baby, including the agbo feeding – feeding the baby agbo the traditional way.

The agbo feeding practice was decided upon and immediately the Ọba called for the procedure to be put in place when the day came. The two women had to feed the child agbo one by one, and it was believed that the child would only accept the agbo from its real mother.
Feyida was the first to go. As she fed agbo to the baby the baby refused the agbo completely, and it spilled to the ground. He started to sing.

Unknown to everyone this was no ordinary child – perhaps this was why it came late to the Ọba. In fact, had not one of his advisors said something to that effect – ‘wonder child’ – he had called it. Some people, young or old, were known to have special powers. The baby had special powers, and this song was similar to another song that had been heard before – sung to identify the singer’s parentage. This was in another town and the singer was a boy called Rere who was once entrapped in a drum.

In those days, things were very different from the way they are today. It was a world in which unexplained actions took place, and strange incidents were quite common-place.

The child who indeed had special powers sang as follows:

Afigbaṣoyun iwọ kọ lo bi mi ‘Calabash bowl pregnancy’ woman you’re not the one who gave birth to me
Agbayunrere
Afẹjẹpodi iwọ kọ lo bi mi ‘Blood-smeared lower body’ woman you’re not the one who gave birth to me

Agbayunrere
Emi lọmọ Aṣakẹ ọmọ Elewuro I’m Aṣakẹ’s child who’s Elewuro’s child
Agbayunrere
Afigbaṣoyun iwọ kọ lo bi mi
Agbayunrere
Afẹjẹpodi iwo ko lo bi mi
Agbayunrere
Emi lọmọ Aṣakẹ ọmọ Elewuro
Agbayunrere
Kiriji, Kiriji, Kẹnkẹlukẹ
Agbayunrere
Kiriji, Kiriji, Kẹnkẹlukẹ
Agbayunrere

In the song the baby stated that Feyida was not the one who gave birth to him – the one who used calabash bowl and smeared the lower part of her body with blood –that he was the son of Aṣakẹ, Elewuro’s child.

The first wife was shaken and afraid, more so that the baby had called her ‘Afigbaṣoyun’ and ‘Afẹjẹpodi’.

The baby must have special powers indeed. It was one thing to believe that the best way to find out the truth was to ask the two women to agbo feed the baby. It was another to suddenly hear the baby sing. Everybody scattered, but the Ọba called out immediately:

“Not so fast! Aṣakẹ has to feed the agbo to the baby. It’s her turn!”

There was no doubt in anybody’s mind by now that Feyida did not give birth to the child.

Aṣakẹ was then asked to feed the baby, and the baby drank all the agbo. Then he started singing the same song again:

Afigbaṣoyun iwọ kọ lo bi mi ‘Calabash bowl pregnancy’ woman you’re not the one who gave birth to me
Agbayunrere
Afẹjẹpodi iwọ kọ lo bi mi ‘Blood-smeared lower body’ woman you’re not the one who gave birth to me

Agbayunrere
Emi lọmọ Aṣakẹ ọmọ Elewuro I’m Aṣakẹ’s child who’s Elewuro’s child
Agbayunrere
Afigbaṣoyun iwọ kọ lo bi mi
Agbayunrere
Afẹjẹpodi iwo ko lo bi mi
Agbayunrere
Emi lọmọ Aṣakẹ ọmọ Elewuro
Agbayunrere
Kiriji, Kiriji, Kẹnkẹlukẹ
Agbayunrere
Kiriji, Kiriji, Kẹnkẹlukẹ
Agbayunrere

The baby drank all the agbo, with not a single drop spilling on the ground. Everyone cried out:

“Aṣakẹ is the mother! Aṣakẹ is the mother! There’s no doubt about it!”.

The Ọba was happy about the development and ordered the other woman to be killed.

“I sentence you to death. I’ve warned you about the penalty for what you’ve done. You’ve made a fool of me. How did you manage to do it?” the Ọba roared. If she could do such a thing as this only God knows what she can do if she continues to live. She is a very dangerous woman.”

This was how Feyida came to her end for this wicked act.

For a long time, the whole town was bustling with the incident – the strange occurrence.