32. Ijapa and the Hot-WaterTest

A long, long time ago in Lagoni, a town in a faraway land – there was an Ọba (the ruler in the human kingdom), who had a daughter, Kofoworade. The Ọmọba (princess)’s mother had died when Kofoworade was still very young. Kofoworade grew up gradually into a beautiful young woman – tall and elegant, with lovely, radiant eyes, glowing complexion, and shiny hair, and well-proportioned body. Very soon she began to attract the attention of the opposite sex. Many young men in the region and beyond, titled and untitled, flocked to the palace to seek the Ọmọba Ọmọba’s hand in marriage.

The Ọba, being very protective of his daughter, was worried that Kofoworade might make a bad choice.

“How can I be sure that whoever marries Kofoworade genuinely loves her, and is not marrying her for her beauty, or because she’s a princess? Take Jemiriye for example” he wondered again and again.

“Why don’t you approve of Jemiriye, father?” Kofoworade had asked her father again and again.

“I can’t let you marry Jemiriye, one of my courtiers’ sons. Don’t forget he feels at home already in this palace. He’s experienced the day-to-day life of an Ọba, and likes it. Supposing he wants to marry you because you’re an Ọmọba, and he’ll succeed me as Ọba?”

At that time women were not allowed to rule, and the Ọba had no sons to succeed him. Whoever married his daughter would be Ọba after him, as was the custom.

“How can you say that, father. If you knew Jemiriye you wouldn’t say that. How many times do I have to assure you that Jemiriye doesn’t want to marry me for my looks and because I’m an Ọmọba. He loves me and I love him. Isn’t that enough?” Kofoworade pleaded with her father.

The Ọba said nothing, and Kofoworade continued:

“Even if you were to choose the son of an Ọba or an Ọba for me, how can you be sure that he’ll be right for me? What does Jemiriye have to do to prove to you that he has good intentions towards me? You’re full of anxiety about whom I marry, and here’s someone right under your nose…Why, everyone says we suit each other…”

Jemiriye was a young man at court who had loved and cared very much for the Ọmọba since childhood, and whom the Ọmọba had loved and cared for, and yet the Ọba did not approve of him. Despite the obstacles thrown in their way by the Ọba, Kofoworade and Jemiriye managed to seek each other out as they grew up. Everybody, except the Ọba thought that they were made for each other. Unfortunately, the Ọba’s opinion was what counted.

“I’m your father, and it’s what I think about Jemiriye that’s important, not what others think” the Ọba pointed out.

“So, you don’t think it’s better for me to marry someone I’ve grown up with than one of these men who flock to the palace to seek my hand in marriage – who don’t even know or want to know me first, to court me? I know that a daughter is expected to marry a man of her parents’ choice (especially the father’s), but all the same…”

“Yes, it’s indeed expected, young lady, and it’ll be good for you to remember that.”

“I’ve heard that a few women defy this custom, father?” Koforade retorted.

“Not my daughter!”

“But father, you’re not making a good job of choosing a husband for me. Look at you! You are full of anxiety! If I were to be left alone to choose for myself…I wish mother was still alive. I wonder if she were here, what she would make of this whole thing? Stop worrying about what’s not there, and pay attention to what’s there – right under your nose. Can’t you see the love and care that have been growing between Jemiriye and me? Shouldn’t that be enough to allay your fears that I’ll not be falling into the wrong hands in marrying him?”

The Ọba refused to be swayed, and there were constant arguments between him and his daughter. Kofoworade was right, of course. The fact that the Ọba saw himself as the one to choose a husband for his daughter did nothing to allay his fears. On the contrary, he was besieged by so much doubt, and would have willingly let Kofoworade choose someone for herself.

“But, Jemiriye, her childhood sweetheart, no way!” the Ọba kept on saying to himself.

Yet, he could not bring himself to consider other suitors. He did not like the way these young men were flocking to the palace either, encouraged by his rejection of Jemiriye, thinking that they had a chance of winning Kofoworade over. He hated the situation in which he found himself. He knew that he was just creating problems for himself, but did not want to admit it – to admit his prejudices.

After some time, it became obvious that the Ọba’s over-protectiveness of his daughter was getting the better of him; it was pushing him over the edge, making him unreasonable. It became an obsession and the obsession grew as the young men continued to flock to the palace. When the matter became too much for the Ọba to handle, he started to look for solutions.

“What am I going to do? Kofoworade will be expected to marry sooner or later as is the custom”.

The Ọba weighed the matter up and down, and then an idea struck him.

“Why don’t I let all these young men compete for Kofoworade’s hand? It’s not unheard of. Other Ọbas do this. Until I find a solution to this problem, why don’t I put a difficult test in front of these suitors, and see if any of them will agree to take it, let alone pass it?”

“A test, father? Do you seriously think that asking these men to compete for my hand by taking a test will solve the problem? It won’t prove anything” Kofoworade pointed out to her father when the latter told her of his intention. She was suddenly afraid that her father might not be in his right mind.

“How’s a test going to stop you from not thinking that I’m being married for my looks or my position?”

“Don’t worry, it will” the Ọba replied. “In fact, why don’t you let Jemiriye take the test as well?” he added magnanimously, knowing very well that there was no likelihood of his winning, or anyone else for that matter.

Kofoworade was immediately suspicious.

“What’s my father up to…”

“Exactly what kind of test do you have in mind, father?” she asked him with trepidation.

“I won’t tell you now. Just wait until the day. Trust me on this one. You’ll be all right”.

“What does he mean by ‘I’ll be all right’ I’ll be all right marrying someone I don’t like? Has he lost his mind?” Kofoworade was thinking, but she said nothing.

Kofoworade knew that Jemiriye would be too proud to take a test to win her hand in marriage, but she decided to tell him about what her father was up to.

“He won’t tell me what the test is all about…I’m afraid it’s going to turn out badly…”

“Hum! It does sound alarming” Jemiriye agreed. He was not happy about the development, either.

“One day I’ll be able to show your father, one way or the other, that I’m worthy of you, without taking any tests”.

“I wish we can just run away together…I don’t want to have to marry someone else but you…”

“I know, my love. How I’d love to take you away from here!”

However, they both knew that doing so would cause a scandal; it would incur the anger of the Ọba, and of Jemiriye’s father – not to talk of putting his father’s position at court at risk. Besides Kofoworade would not want to defy her father, because of the respect she had for him. He was the Ọba; his word was rule, and how would it look if his own daughter defied him? She said this to herself again and again.

Kofoworade implored her father not to go ahead with the test, but he would not hear of it.

“At least, tell me about it” she added, frantic.

“Don’t worry, dear” the Ọba finally said, when he realized how worried his daughter was. “There’s no way any of your suitors can pass this test, I assure you, and you know what? I’m going to add a clause to it, just for the fun of it!”

Kofoworade was bewildered about the whole thing, and wondered yet again, if her father knew what he was doing. She was curious as to what he would say next.

“What, father?” she asked.

“I won’t tell you now. Just wait for the day!”

“I wish mother were alive” Kofoworade suddenly thought.

A few days later, the Ọba summoned the young men from far and near to the palace to take a test in order to win his daughter’s hand in marriage – to be followed by a feast. It was when they got there that they would know what the test entailed.
On the appointed date the suitors were all gathered together. The Ọba sat on his throne, resplendent in his attire. He was surrounded by his courtiers, including Jemiriye and his father. The Ọba addressed them all:

“The princess has now reached an age when she should think of getting married. As you’re all aware, there’s no shortage of suitors for her hand, and this is where the problem lies. How am I going to choose from you all? Yet, it’s my duty as a father to do so. I’ve given a lot of thoughts to the whole matter, and have decided that competing for my daughter’s hand is the way forward. I’m not going to ask anything of the contenders such as money or land. Instead I’ve summoned you here to take a test – a Hot-water Test. Anyone who passes the test – unless there’re several winners – will marry the princess. If there’re several winners another method would be used to select my daughter’s prospective suitor. However, if it’s a question of one winner, the winner can be challenged to take another test by any male person present in my court today. If the winner is unable to meet the challenge, then the princess’s hand will be given to the challenger”.

The young men looked at each other wondering what to expect, knowing their Ọba and his whims and caprices.

“A Hot-Water Test? Are we going to be plunged in hot water?” some of them were wondering.

Now among the suitors were animals: an elephant (Erin) and a leopard (Ẹkun). A tortoise (Ijapa) was also interested in marrying the princess, although he had his doubts.

“What would a beautiful woman like Kofoworade want with me – a creature with a cracked shell. But what she doesn’t know is that I may not be a human being and beautiful like her, but I have wisdom. There’s nothing I can’t achieve if I set my mind to it! I’ll find a way of passing this test, even if no one else can!”

Ijapa’s wife, Yannibo, had left him to go and live with her parents, and that was not the first time. So, the road was clear as far as Ijapa was concerned.

In those days the world was very different from the way it is today. Human beings and animals had a lot in common. They lived side by side, spoke the same language, and generally behaved the same way – some animals possessing remarkable physical and mental capabilities. The tortoise, Ijapa, was an example of this phenomenon.

Although human beings and animals intermingled and interacted freely, humans would not and did not generally marry animals. However, it had been known to happen, and Ijapa was notorious for bringing about unusual situations such as this. Had he not tried to do so twice when he was in a town called Makeke? He had used tricks – tricks that almost cost him his life – to learn the names of three princesses (Ọmọba). The Ọba of Makeke, the Ọmọba’s father, had challenged contenders for his daughter’s hands in marriage to come up with his daughters’ real names. Ijapa had also tried to trick a woman, Kerebuje, into becoming his wife. Ijapa’s attempts on these two occasions had been abortive, and he was lucky not to have been put to death.

Ijapa was very popular in some quarters – among humans and animals alike, and was often invited to attend events organised by humans. However, he got into trouble quite often for bad behaviour, and was punished or injured, or driven away. Sometimes he would leave a town of his own accord, ashamed of his behaviour. He was cunning and mischievous, often boasting that he could find solutions to any problem; he was a trickster who obtained things even humans could not through ruse. However, Ijapa was resourceful and resilient which others found admirable; he was witty and amusing, especially when he fell flat on his face.

Kofoworade, sitting next to her father, spotted Ijapa among the suitors, and was shocked. She glanced at Jemiriye and saw him looking at Ijapa with the same expression on his face. They were both thinking:

“What has the Ọba done? Supposing Ijapa passes the test? Will the Ọba truly believe that this’ll be the end of his anxiety about his daughter falling into the wrong hands? Would he really want his daughter to be married to an animal?”

All the contestants were also shocked to see Ijapa among them.

“Ijapa of all creatures! What’s he doing here? It’s bad enough to see other animals such as Erin and Ẹkun among us, but Ijapa…!”

Kofoworade’s and Jemiriye’s looks locked. Despite the gravity of the situation what they both saw in each other’s face lifted their spirit instantly. It was as if they both believed that their love for each other would see them through.

“Now, this is what the test is all about” the Ọba continued, oblivious to what those around him were thinking.

Jemiriye pushed away his thoughts to listen attentively to what the Ọba had to say. Everything that touched on the princess always had his full attention. He loved Kofoworade so much, and would do anything to lessen her unhappiness.

“A Hot-Water Test means that each one of you, the contestants, will be given a goblet in which some water, just taken off the fire will be poured. If you want to proceed with the test at this juncture, you’ll be required to drink the water. Anyone of you who succeeds in drinking the water right to the end – that is, without hazards – will wed Kofoworade”.

There were murmurings among the contestants, but the Ọba continued as if he did not hear anything.

“This means that the winner is willing to overcome all obstacles where my daughter is concerned. It’ll also be an indication that the winner may be capable of enduring love and patience. Let me remind you though, that the winner could still be challenged by one of the men present here to take another test. It is only if he passes the second test, that my daughter’s hand will be released to him.”

“Impossible! What kind of test is this?” many of the contestants were saying audibly now, aghast. Some of them declined to take the test when given the piping hot water.

“There’s a limit to what I can do for the sake of marrying someone, albeit an Ọmọba”, they were thinking.
Some of them, whose ardour could not cool off easily, were thinking that had they known in advance, they would have greased their mouths and throats. Nevertheless, they accepted the goblet of boiling water, and decided to pour the drink direct into their throats without burning their mouths.

“At least let me minimize the pain I’m going to feel.”

They tried to do this but could not get to the end; they were in so much pain. Their throats, mouths and tongues were badly burnt. One by one they tried and got burned.

It was only Ijapa left now. He had deliberately kept back from the others – waiting for them to take their turns. When he was given the goblet with the piping hot water, Ijapa picked it up, and decided to make a speech, calling everyone’s attention to it.

Nobody was surprised by this. Speeches were very common at this type of gathering. They were to be expected, so nobody thought anything on-toward in Ijapa making one. These were mere formalities that were usually followed at ceremonies, especially where Ọbas and titled men such as Chiefs, Ọtunba, Balogun etc, were in attendance. They had to be hailed by their titles at the beginning of a speech. It was also customary for their blessing to be sought over any decisions made, and given ceremoniously. The speaker would refer to aspects of the event that were important to him or her.

The Ọbas and the titled men (Chiefs, Ọtunba, Balogun etc) loved the practice. To be addressed by their titles, to have their presence acknowledge at gatherings was an indication of the high esteem in which people held them – the respect people had for them. Ijapa knew the procedures. He knew the right people to address.

“Kabiyesi!” he started, holding the goblet high in front of the Ọba. “I’m here to take part in the Hot-Water Test because I want to marry your daughter. I love her. Look at my own portion of the hot water I have to drink. Kabiyesi, I need your blessing, before I drink it”.

Ijapa knelt down ceremoniously in front of the Ọba, head bowed. The Ọba was only too willing to oblige, thinking “This creature knows our culture very well!” He placed his hand on Ijapa’s head, and with his own head bowed, said:

“Blessing!”

Then Ijapa turned to the titled men present. Holding up the goblet high up, he first addressed them ceremoniously by their titles – one after the other – and added:

“I’m here to take part in the Hot-Water Test because I want to marry the Ọba’s daughter. I love her. Look at my own portion of the hot water I have to drink. I need your blessing before I drink it.”

Ijapa knelt down in front of all of them, one by one, head bowed. The titled men were pleased, thinking, like the Ọba, “This creature knows our culture very well!” They placed their hands on Ijapa’s head, and with their own heads ceremoniously bowed, said:

“Blessing!”

By the time Ijapa turned to the last titled man everybody at the gathering (with the exception of one man) especially the titled men being addressed, was caught up with the formalities which were being carried out ceremoniously, forgetting the real reason they were there.

“This creature is amazing! He hasn’t left out any of us!” the titled men were saying, nodding and nudging each other. They were very happy that their presence and the offering of their blessing were being acknowledged in this way – in public, to the hearing of everyone in the congregation, and in such a ceremoniously way! They were so full of their own importance and got carried away by it. They did not realize what Ijapa was up to. Not until it was too late…They did not think twice before answering Ijapa; they just thought that he knew the right thing to do, and commended him! By the time Ijapa had gone around addressing each one of them the water had cooled off.

Ijapa just simply drank the water. This was how Ijapa was successful, and was hailed the winner.

“Ijapa has won! Ijapa has won! Kofoworade is going to be Ijapa’s wife – an animal with a cracked shell!” some cried out from the congregation.

There was a commotion.

The princess reeled and would have dropped to the ground had Jemiriye not rushed to gather her in his arms. He seemed to be the only one paying attention to her amidst the commotion around. Ordinarily he would have incurred the wrath of his father and the Ọba for this improper behaviour, but the Ọba was visibly embarrassed – shocked by the turn of events. His mouth flew wide open. He did not know what to do. The last thing he would have wanted was for his daughter to marry an animal. Jemiriye’s father just gazed at his son, shaking his head.

The Ọba got up and was unsteady on his feet; his crown fell off. He gripped the table in front of him trying not to collapse. He was deeply and visibly troubled. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out; he could not utter one word. He was so dejected that he hung his head in shame.

“What have I done?” he asked himself, looking at Kofoworade who was still held in Jemiriye’s arms.

“What has my father done?” Kofoworade whispered to Jemiriye, and burst into tears. She was visibly distressed by the turn of events.

Jemiriye just pulled her closer to him.

The Ọba would never have believed, in his wildest imagination that any being – let alone an animal – would take or pass the test. However, he saw no way out. His word had been given. He looked around as if hoping for a miracle, hoping that someone might save the day, but not really believing it. He cleared his throat and addressed the congregation:

“Ijapa is the only one who has passed…”

“No way! If my mother were alive this wouldn’t be happening”, Kofoworade interrupted amidst tears. She was very angry and upset, and

Jemiriye’s heart went out to her.

Deeply concerned about Kofoworade, Jemiriye had been following attentively what was going on. It was not surprising, therefore, that he had seen through Ijapa when the others had not, but there was nothing he could have done about it. To interrupt the well-valued formalities would have been improper, unforgivable. It was not his place to call the gathering to order. Nobody would have listened to what he had to say anyway – at least not until homage had been paid to the necessary people in accordance with the culture, and by that time the damage would have been done.

Jemiriye would have incurred the wrath of everyone, especially his father’s, and the Ọba’s. This might have even led to Jemiriye’s father being dismissed from the palace for failing to inculcate the right values in his son. Jemiriye had kept quiet but had quickly racked his brains as to what to do to save the situation – how to take advantage of the Ọba’s clause, and challenge Ijapa to another test. He got up, went back to his seat, cleared his throat, and addressed the congregation:

“May I have permission to speak, Kabiyesi?”

Everyone present, including Kofoworade, was taken aback. The Ọba looked at Jemiriye wondering “What on earth does he have to say that could make any difference?”

“Permission granted.” the Ọba replied, dismissing Jemiriye from his thoughts, not knowing that Jemiriye had been fully aware of Ijapa’s trickery.

“Let’s give Ijapa a Hot-Food Test, Kabiyesi, and see whether he’ll pass it. What the test entails will be similar to the Hot-Water Test. It’s not necessary for Ijapa to go through all the formalities he did before. He doesn’t need to address the court, and explain to us what he’s about to do. Everyone knows!”

“A Hot-Food Test! A Hot-Food Test! How…? Why…?” the Ọba started, and then stopped as realization of what Jemiriye meant dawned on him. By now others present seemed to have caught on to Ijapa’s trick.

The Ọba agreed willingly, and immediately called for some hot food just taken off the fire, which was being prepared for the party that was to follow, to be brought forward.

“Put some of this food on a plate for Ijapa, and see if he can take or pass the Hot-Food Test”

The Ọba’s request was carried out immediately. Ijapa thought quickly of how to save the day. He looked around, blinking incessantly, but could not come up with another trick. He did not want to eat the food and burn his mouth, tongue, and throat either. It was obvious that he had tricked the congregation in taking the Hot-Water Test. He tried to make his exit thinking:

“There’s a limit to what I can do just because I want to marry an Ọmọba. I’m not going to harm myself just for the sake of a beautiful woman…” He was certainly not motivated by love for the princess.

Jemiriye cleared his throat, and addressed the congregation.

“Kabiyesi! Ijapa has played a trick on us here today. He can be highly praised for finding a way of passing the Hot-Water Test – if one likes that kind of thing. However, in my opinion, Kabiyesi, being cunning is hardly the criterion for marrying off your daughter?”

The Ọba was surprised, but relieved by the turn of events, and there and then began to realize his mistakes in being overprotective of his daughter – in his insistence on being the one to choose a husband for her, culminating in the Hot-Water Test. He felt foolish in his own eyes.

“What I’ve done is complete folly” he was thinking. He cleared his throat, and addressed the congregation:

“I’m not going to find faults with Ijapa for playing a trick on us to win the Hot-Water Test – for outwitting me. You see, the test should not have been set in the first place. It was not only ridiculous and uncalled for, but also daunting and harmful, and I apologize for those who have suffered as a result of it.

“This is not the way to choose a spouse, and Jemiriye is right; passing the test through trickery is hardly the criterion for marrying off someone. Choosing a spouse is not an easy thing, but one just has to be very cautious, and hope for the best like everything else in life. More importantly one should not impose a spouse on anyone else, but leave them to choose by themselves.

“I thank Jemiriye here, who’s a very shrewd and intelligent young man, for providing me the opportunity to realize this”.

Everyone hailed the Ọba, and after their hailing died down the Ọba continued:

“My daughter – Ọmọba – once told me what Jemiriye said to her. ‘One day I’ll be able to show your father that I’m worthy of you without taking any test’. Well that day has come. For him to have seen immediately through Ijapa’s trick, he must have been following attentively what was going on. His thoughts must have centred round the Ọmọba’s ordeal, and to me that’s an indication that my daughter’s interest must be first and foremost in his mind – that my daughter must have a special place in his heart – that he loves and cares for Kofoworade.

What’s more important than that? Jemiriye is clearly worthy of my daughter”

“Kabiyesi!” resounded everywhere. The congregation hailed Jemiriye, and his father was very proud of him.

Amidst the hailing Kofoworade pushed aside everybody around and rushed to where Jemiriye was. Immediately he saw her he gathered her in his arms, and they clung to each other, oblivious of those around. They called each other’s name again and again, and started to kiss each other passionately.

It was the Ọba’s call for the feast to begin that brought the two of them back to where they were. Holding hands, they led the way to where the food was being served. The Ọba was very, very happy. He was not only eternally grateful to Jemiriye for saving the day, but was also convinced that he had found the ‘right’ person for this daughter at last.

“The nightmare I’ve been through is over! All I need to do now is to join the party and have a very good time!” he was thinking.

“Everybody the party is still young. Eat, drink and be merry, and don’t forget that there is dancing! Kofoworade and I will lead the dancing, and we expect everyone to join in!”