34. Ijapa (Tortoise) and Ọjọla (Python)

Many, many years ago, when the world was totally different from the way it is today, there were a lot of similarities between human beings and animals. Animals behaved and spoke like humans. They had their own groups and made friends like humans. Human beings interacted and intermingled freely with animals, addressing and referring to them in the same way as they would humans. Indeed, the physical and mental capabilities of some of these animals were remarkable – the tortoise, Ijapa, being an example of this phenomenon.

At this time, in a town called Lagoni, in a faraway land, there lived a tortoise, Ijapa, and a Python, Ọjọla who were very good friends and neighbours. Their friendship was unprecedented. They became friends when they both came to live in their area around the same time – the first inhabitants to arrive there. They were always to be found together; they were in and out of each other’s home, did things together, invited each other to family events – occasions such as birth of children, marriage, playing a big role in them.

However, there were boundaries that neither of them crossed. They had never eaten together at each other’s home. Ọjọla did not like sharing his food with anyone – a well-known fact. Ijapa was hardly in a position to invite anyone to a meal because he relied on the goodwill of others (eg neighbours and friends) to feed himself, or on tricking them. Besides, he was a miser. Ọjọla knew of Ijapa’s reputation – knew of his taking Wa jẹun” or “Ẹ wa jẹun” literally (customary invitation to anyone who happened to drop by at mealtimes to partake of the food, not meant literally), so all the more reason why he never invited his friend to come and eat with him. Ọjọla did not once say ‘Wa jẹun o” if Ijapa happened to drop by, and found him eating, and Ijapa avoided calling on Ọjọla when he knew he would be having his meals.

There were a lot of gossips about Ijapa and Ọjọla – about how dissimilar the two friends were, and yet similar in some ways. The other animals did not understand how they came to be friends in the first place, let alone remain friends.

“Fancy Ọjọla not wanting to share his food with anyone – not even with his friend, Ijapa, and he’s a lousy cook anyway”.

“One would have expected Ọjọla to be the first person Ijapa would call upon the way he goes around relying on others’ goodwill for food. No.

What would they offer each other anyway? Ọjọla eats good food – the games that he brings home, especially his favourite meat – olube – although he’s a lousy cook. Ijapa, on the other hand, doesn’t eat well when he’s not relying on others to feed him. What he eats can, certainly, not be compared with what Ọjọla eats.”

Ijapa and Ojora loved good food with delicious aroma. Ijapa loved ẹbẹ (pottage yam), akara (bean-based fried fritters), roasted groundnuts first and foremost, but could not afford them because he did nothing for a living. He was lazy, and greedy. Ọjọla loved ẹbẹ and olube. The two of them were always tempted by their favourite foods and would do anything to get them. What Ijapa ate could not be compared with what Ọjọla ate, although the latter was not a good cook.

“Even if Ọjọla invites you to eat with him he coils round the bowl leaving hardly any space for anyone to reach the food, and he’s very long. Unless one practically steps on his tail, which will get him angry, one can’t eat with him. So even if he were to say ‘Ẹ wa jẹun / Wa jẹun’ there would have been no point in taking him up on it.”

“Oh! That pet hate of his – not wanting people to step on his tail! I wonder if he doesn’t use it to trick people so that they wouldn’t be able to get close to his food.”

“Then he’s almost as cunning as Ijapa”.

“No, no, no! Ijapa is much worse. He’s devious, full of pranks and mischief”

“Who knows what Ọjọla may come up with when it comes to having to feed someone. Supposing he’s obliged to feed Ijapa one day, for whatever reason?”

“Anyway, I hope their friendship will last”.

“Let’s wait and see. If they do fall out at all, I’m sure it’ll be over food!”

“That’s true, because other issues such as Ọjọla being so hardworking whilst Ijapa is a lazy so-and-so, don’t seem to matter to Ọjọla. In fact, I hear that Ọjọla has been trying to help Ijapa to mend his ways. That’s a true friend for you!”

Ijapa was a cunning creature who obtained things that others could not through ruse. He was notorious for his misdemeanours, for which he frequently got into trouble, and received punishments, personal injury, sentences to death or banishment from the Ọba of where he lived. Sometimes he would leave a town of his own accord to go and live elsewhere, disgraced and ashamed, after misbehaving.

Yet despite his faults Ijapa was popular in some quarters – among humans and animals alike. He was witty, and entertaining when he tried to be too clever for his own good. He was also resourceful and resilient which others found admirable. It was not surprising therefore that Ọjọla liked him, despite his faults and despite their differences. Ọjọla was more straightforward than Ijapa.

Whatever their reasons for being friends the two animals kept them to themselves, and not sharing their food did not stop them from being so. Their friendship continued to wax strongly. They continued to be seen together – do things together, attend family events. They continued to advise each other.

Ijapa did listen to Ọjọla whenever the latter tried to get him to work in the same field as himself.

“One day I may just surprise everybody and do so!” Ijapa would reply.

Ọjọla was a deep forest hunter and worked hard at it. He hunted games which he sold and knew that Ijapa would benefit from this type of venture. Any time he caught meat in the forest he would eat it alone. He caught fish as well.

That was how, when Ijapa came across Yannibo one day – just by chance, and the question of the two of them coming together again cropped up, Ijapa confided in his friend. Ijapa and Yannibo had been married before, but Yannibo had left him twice to go and live with her parents at Ẹyin-Igbẹ ti, at the outskirts Teregun, because of Ijapa’s misdeeds. The first time was after Ijapa had disgraced himself by getting his scalp burnt from some piping hot ẹbẹ he had stolen from his mother-in-law and worn on his head, an episode that led to his being bald forever. The second time Yannibo left Ijapa she had had enough of being driven away from town to town for his misdeeds, especially when he had almost caused the death of three young brothers from pure malice. He had almost lost his own life then.

Yannibo and her parents, and her children had left Ẹyin-Igbẹti and had been living in Lagoni for some time. Ijapa was not aware of this and was very surprised when he stumbled upon her one day in the street. Ijapa was very happy to learn that Yannibo was doing well, and that she had come into money. Unlike Ijapa Yannibo was not lazy and was always looking for things to do to earn a living. Unfortunately, there had been times when it was very difficult to find work, and money was tight. If it were not for the assistance the couple got from Yannibo’s parents, Ijapa’s family would have perished. Ijapa did not pull his weight, and continued not to do so, and this was another reason why Yannibo left him.

One of the things Ijapa remembered most (and missed) about Yannibo was her cooking. Yannibo knew how to cook mouth-watering dishes, and Ijapa remembered how well he ate when he was with her.

“Yannibo is such a good cook!” Ijapa said to Ọjọla. “You can trust that anyone I marry must be a very good cook.” We should not forget that Ijapa’s penchant for good food was legendary.

“The same with me” Ọjọla replied.

“She combines this with other things of course” he added quickly. “She’s a successful trader. I’ve told her about you, of course, about what you trade in, and already she’s talking about buying some of the games you catch or trading with you. She’s eager to meet you.”

Ọjọla was envious. He had never married. He had not yet met a female who could combine cooking delicious meals with other things.

“Well, you’re lucky, Ijapa. You’d better go for it!”

Ijapa was planning to go for it, if Yannibo would take him back, and it was not without a lot of difficulties that he managed to get her to do so, yet again.

Ijapa and Yannibo started to live together again, and Ijapa was very happy. Yannibo was bringing in money from trading, saving Ijapa the embarrassment of relying on the goodwill of others, or on tricking them, for food. Ijapa asked Ọjọla to include her in his venture, and Yannibo was able to provide Ijapa with the financial means that he needed. They formed a partnership that benefited the two parties a great deal. Ọjọla did what he was excellent at – hunting for games or buying them from others who were lucky to catch them – and Yannibo was put in charge of selling the games at the market, a chore that she equally excelled at. Ijapa did what he was good at – nothing – although he was full of promises. However, he got to eat out of the games caught – eating being another thing he was good at. Ọjọla, who thought that he was benefitting from this partnership, always kept aside a portion of the games for himself and for Ijapa’s family.

One day Ijapa told Ọjọla how much he had enjoyed eating the olube that Ọjọla had caught and given him the day before, which Ijapa had given to Yannibo to cook.

“She cooked it this afternoon. Yannibo sure knows how to cook. The taste and the aroma of it is something else. You can smell it miles away! It’s mouth-watering, delicious.”

Ijapa was thinking to himself: “I eat so well now”.

Ọjọla’s interest was roused – he who loved the olube but was hopeless at cooking it.

“I’d better call on these two one day and taste this woman’s olube. That’d be nicer than what I come up with…”

So, the next time Ọjọla caught some olube and gave Ijapa’s share to him. Ọjọla decided to drop in on the couple around lunch time the following day. Yannibo had just cooked some delicious ẹbẹ as well as olube when Ọjọla dropped by. From the distance Ọjọla was enticed by the aroma of the meal and could not help dropping hints about what he had in mind when he entered Ijapa’s house.

“This is a very mouth-watering dish you’re about to eat, and it’s my favourite too!”

Ijapa was surprised when he heard this, wondering if Ọjọla wanted to be included in the meal. Ọjọla had never once eaten with him at table before.

“Wa jẹun, Ọjọla” Ijapa said to his friend, and his surprise grew even more when Ọjọla took him up on it and sat down at table with them. Ijapa knew that had it been the other way around, Ọjọla would not have said “Wa jẹun” to him, let alone expected him to take him up on the offer.

“How long have we known each other, Ijapa? How long have we been friends?” Ọjọla suddenly asked after they had been eating for a while, (as if it had just occurred to him to find out). He had been grunting away as he ate, obviously enjoying the meal thoroughly. The question took Ijapa by surprise. He was wondering where Ọjọla was going with it.

“Isn’t it strange that up till now we’ve not been asking to eat with each other, and we’re good friends?” Ọjọla continued.

“I agree. Let’s eat together. It sounds good. We’ll get to know each other even better when we eat at home. It’s when you try a stew here and there that you know if it tastes good”.

“That’s true” Ijapa answered as it suddenly dawned on him why Ọjọla was so interested in this question of food. Ọjọla wanted to taste more of Yannibo’s cooking, especially his favourite dishes, as his own cooking was far from delicious.

“Now he’s ready to share his food with me only because of what he’ll get in exchange. Anyway, why not? He’s my friend after all” Ijapa was thinking.

That was how Ijapa and Ọjọla started to eat at each other’s house once a month, in turns, and everyone in town got to know about it.

At the end of one month, Ijapa would get Yannibo to cook different dishes, and invite Ọjọla to come and eat. Ọjọla would get there, eat and drink, and return home. At the end of the following month, it would be Ọjọla’s turn to do the same. The friendship between Ijapa and Ọjọla waxed even more strongly, until it became a thing of the past. Ijapa started to observe that whenever it was Ọjọla’s turn to host the meal, what he put on the table was by no means a spread, apart from its not being mouth-watering. Ọjọla, as we know, was not a good cook. As much as he tried, he could not produce fried peppered olube with enticing aroma.

Ijapa found that he hardly ate anything at Ọjọla’s. Whenever it was the latter’s turn to cook, he would put the food in just one bowl, on the ground, and coil right round it forming a large circle. Ọjọla, as we know, was very long, and he would make no move to uncoil himself upon Ijapa’s arrival. Ijapa would walk around him, looking for the easiest way to climb over him into the food circle. The area of Ọjọla’s tail seemed to be the most plausible, but Ijapa would have to be extremely careful not to trample on it.

“I hope I’ll never step on Ọjọla’s tail” Ijapa would say to himself, wondering how his friend would react, if he were to do so accidentally, knowing Ọjọla’s pet hate.

By the time Ijapa managed to get to the food after walking around Ọjọla, without stepping on his tail, Ọjọla would have eaten most of the food. So Ijapa would go back home still hungry. Although he was not happy with the situation, Ijapa decided to continue with the monthly invitations, because he still valued Ọjọla’s friendship. Ijapa knew that Yannibo’s cooking was the reason why Ọjọla wanted to continue with it, but he shut his eyes to that fact, making excuses for his friend.

“Ọjọla can’t just invite himself to my house without reciprocating… I suppose he can’t help being very long either…”

That was how Ijapa and Ọjọla continued this monthly invitation to a meal at each other’s house. Then Ọjọla met someone whom he thought might be a good match for him, as a wife, and confided in his friend.

“What’s she like? Is she a good cook?” was the first question Ijapa asked.

“She’s excellent. Just as good as Yannibo – good at cooking fried peppered olube. Whenever she cooks a delicious aroma fills the air, and your mouth waters…”

“Then what’re you waiting for. Marry her!”

“Of course, I won’t just marry her because of that alone. She happens to have other qualities…”

Ọjọla married the female in question, and started enjoying his food at home, especially olube. His interest in eating at Ijapa’s vanished. However, he could not very well admit it to his friend; after all was, he not the one who suggested the monthly eating at each other’s home in the first place? No, he had to continue with the arrangement. So, he started to look for a way round it.

From then on, whenever it was Ọjọla’s turn to invite Ijapa he would come up with one excuse or the other, to postpone it. This happened on three or four occasions. When Ijapa challenged him, saying:

“If you’re not avoiding inviting me to eat with you, then I’ll come and eat with you tomorrow afternoon. We don’t have to wait till the end of the month you know”. Ọjọla could not find any reason to say “No”, so he agreed.

“By all means, come and eat with me tomorrow!” Ọjọla replied.

However, Ọjọla had caught some olube which he was looking forward to eating alone, not knowing that he was going to have Ijapa as guest. He was already dreaming of how delicious it would taste at the expert handling of his wife. The meat would be cooked by her in her usual fashion – fried and peppered, and sizzling. His mouth had been watering just thinking about it. Ọjọla usually ate alone – not even with his wife – their meal time differing conveniently.

“There must be a way round this” Ọjọla was thinking. “I can’t possibly share my olube with Ijapa…Of course!” It suddenly became obvious what he should do. We must remember that being stepped on was Ọjọla’s pet hate. Whoever stepped on him would be asking for trouble.

When Ijapa arrived at Ọjọla’s house the following day, he found his friend coiled around the usual bowl of food on the floor. Ijapa noticed straight away that the area around it was completely covered, and there was no space around Ọjọla’s tail this time. Ọjọla made to move to uncoil himself, as usual, and Ijapa knew that unless he climbed over his friend, and in so doing stepped on him, there was no way of getting to the food. There was a delicious smell of sizzling, fried peppered olube in the air.

“Come in, come in, Ijapa. Come and join me. This olube is just too delicious and the ẹbẹ…” he beckoned to Ijapa to approach the food, as soon as Ijapa entered through the door.

Ijapa hovered around wondering what to do, and Ọjọla pretended not to notice that the former was having difficulties in getting to the food. It was as if Ọjọla had got carried away with the taste and aroma of the food he was eating and was oblivious to what was going on around him – as if he could not concentrate very well because the taste and aroma of the food was overwhelming. It was all a charade, of course. He was chattering away about how delicious the food was, interrupting Ijapa any time the latter tried to draw his attention to his dilemma, and deliberately misunderstanding him as well.

“What’re you waiting for…? Come near and eat” he invited his friend.

“I’m trying to get to the food…”

“Isn’t my wife a wonderful cook? She’s just as good as Yannibo, isn’t she?”

“Yes. I’m sure she is, but how do I get to the food…?”

“I can eat this every day, can’t you? You’ve to agree with me that nobody else can cook as well as this – especially this particular dish – ẹbẹ and fried peppered obule. You love it as much as I do, I’m sure…”

“Yes, and I’d like to taste it as well, just as you’re doing, but you’re in the way…”

“Yum! Yum! So, you like the taste as well. I knew you would. You’re enjoying it.”

“I will if I can just get to the food…”

Ijapa tried and tried to reach the food whilst all the time Ọjọla continued with the pretence, eating and chatting away as if Ijapa was eating with him.

Ijapa lifted his hands to catch Ọjọla’s attention, without succeeding. Then he stretched slightly across Ọjọla, testing the waters, and when there was no reaction from Ọjọla, he stretched across again, but could not get to the food.

“Really, Ijapa!” Ọjọla suddenly exclaimed. “I’ve invited you to eat with me and you step on my tail. Is that how to treat a friend? Is that a good way to behave? Do you want to crush me completely? If you’ve come to pick a quarrel with me, why don’t you say so, so that we know?”

Ijapa was shocked by Ọjọla’s reaction and he was deeply embarrassed. He felt disgraced, as realization set in. He cast his mind back to all that had been happening since he and Ọjọla started eating at each other’s home and realized that his friend had tricked him – made a fool of him. Ijapa had not trampled on Ọjọla’s tail, but it was convenient for the latter to pretend that he had done so, so that Ijapa’s attention would be distracted, giving Ọjọla the opportunity to polish off the rest of the food. Ijapa was deeply unhappy with this treatment of him and did not know what to do.

“I should have seen this happening. How can a friend do this to you, if he’s a true friend?” he wondered.

As Ijapa hovered around, wondering what to do, Ọjọla continued to eat the olube one mouthful after the other until he indeed finished it completely. It was after it finished that he uncoiled himself from where he was sitting. Ijapa’s embarrassment was so great that he wanted to escape quickly from the scene. He moved towards the doorway, almost in tears, breathing in and out to control himself. He did not want his friend to know that anything was amiss.

“I’m sorry” he said and took his leave quickly.

After that day, Ijapa, who was master trickster himself, started to think of how to take his revenge from Ọjọla for the latter’s unfair behaviour towards him.

“I’ll bide my time, so he’ll not see it coming!” he was thinking.

Ọjọla did not realize that he had offended Ijapa deeply – wounded his pride – or he pretended not to, and Ijapa did not say anything to that effect either. On the surface the two of them continued as before, as if nothing had happened, but their relationship had taken a new turn. The monthly eating at each other’s house died down from then on. The arrangement relating to the games caught by Ọjọla also died down after a while. The two of them knew that if they were to examine their hearts, they would realize that their friendship was probably based on what they could get from each other.

Ijapa started to catch games himself from the deep forest. He would set traps and wires and succeed in catching the games.

“Ọjọla thinks he’s the only one who can catch games. I’ll show him!”

One day when Yannibo finished preparing a meal, Ijapa sent her to go and ask his friend to come and eat. Before then he had been struck by an idea.

Ijapa then went to a part of the forest where there were special leaves (ewe ojokun) in abundance. He picked a great deal of them and also searched around for some string-like leaves. When he went back home, he got very busy throughout the evening, using the string-like leaves to join the special leaves together. Ijapa intended to join this contraption

to his body to elongate it, so that when Ọjọla came to dinner he would coil himself round the bowls with the cooked food to be feasted on, similarly to what Ọjọla did that day.

When Ọjọla arrived at Ijapa’s house, Ijapa had already coiled himself round the bowls of cooked food with his elongated body.

Ọjọla set out for his friend’s house. He had by now forgotten his unfair treatment of Ijapa and did not suspect any ulterior motive to Ijapa’s invitation. In fact, he saw it as an indication that he and Ijapa were still good friends, even if their friendship had changed somewhat, especially as he was welcomed by an enticing aroma of the dishes to be served – olube and ẹbẹ. He arrived at Ijapa’s and hastened his steps. Ijapa had already coiled himself round the bowls of cooked food with his elongated body.

“This is like old times” Ọjọla was thinking.

“Come in, come in” Ijapa said to Ọjọla after the customary greetings.

“Come near and let’s get started” Ijapa continued.

The aroma of the olube and ẹbẹ was irresistible making Ọjọla’s mouth water. He was totally unaware of Ijapa’s new shape, and as he made to get to the food his head rested on the ewe ijokun that Ijapa had wound around him.

“Aargh! Aargh!” Ijapa cried out.

“Ijapa, what is it?”

“Really, Ọjọla. I ask you to eat with me and you trample on me! Is that the way to treat a friend? Why didn’t you just ask me to move my feet out of the way instead of stepping on me? Or have you come to pick a fight with me. If so, why not say so?”

Ọjọla was taken aback.

“Surely Ijapa’s body is not big enough to cover the area surrounding the food?” he wondered as he tried to get to the food, going around Ijapa again and again, trying not to touch him. Ijapa seemed to be oblivious to what was going on. He seized the opportunity to eat the olube and ẹbẹ to his satisfaction, and eventually finished them.

Ọjọla was very upset and furious about what had happened. He was almost in tears. Trying to control his frustration and disappointment, he addressed his friend:

“Ijapa, since when have you become this long?”

“Ọjọla, my friend, you learn from others when to be long and you also learn from others when to be short.”

It was then that Ọjọla understood what had happened, that he remembered how he had treated Ijapa, and realized that this was Ijapa’s way of taking revenge. He could not answer. He was too ashamed.

Ijapa and Ọjọla did not eat at each other’s house ever again, and their friendship was not quite the same again!