12. Ijapa (Tortoise) and the Princesses

Many, many years ago, in Makeke, a town in far away land there lived an Ọba (ruler in the human kingdom) with his three daughters. The princesses’ mother had died tragically at an early age, when the girls were still very young. The Ọba did not have any other wives and children.

Deeply chagrined by his wife’s death, the Ọba was over-protective of his daughters – afraid that harm might befall them. He hardly allowed them to leave the palace, or mix with other people, including relatives, even when they attended some of the events that took place at the palace. They had no one to play with – not even among the courtiers’ children. They had their separate stream – ‘odo Ọba’ (royal stream) – close to the palace, and nobody else was allowed to be in its vicinity let alone use it. Violation of this order was punishable by death.

The princesses were lonely and deeply unhappy. They had heard stories about other people’s lives within and beyond the palace’s premises, mainly from their maid, Wura, and were very curious. They wanted to experience what other people were experiencing.

“Father, Wura has been telling us about people she knows. It’d be nice to meet them. Can’t we invite some of the children to come and play with us?” one of the princesses asked their father one day.

“Or we can go and play with them”, another one suggested.

“Certainly not”, the Ọba bellowed.

“Why not, father?” she asked.

“You’re too young to understand things. It’s a cruel world out there…”, the Ọba replied.

When the princesses went out, which was not often, it was always the three of them together, and in the company of their maid, or the Ọba himself and his courtiers. Therefore, nobody could really tell the girls apart. Nobody knew their real names either, except the Ọba – not even Wura, their maid. She knew the princesses’ nicknames because the Ọba always called them by their nicknames, as a sign of affection for his daughters. When they were alone the girls called each other by their real names – the names their mother used when she was alone with them before she died – to evoke her memory.

The princesses had a mind of their own and longed to break away from their sheltered upbringing. They would argue incessantly with their father about it.

“We’re bored. We’ve practically nothing to do all day. We just eat, sleep and play in the compound by ourselves” they would complain.

“Do you know the only thing we look forward to everyday, father?” one of them asked one day.

“What’s that?” the Ọba answered.

“Going in search of ‘kẹkẹ’”.

“’Kẹkẹ!’” the Ọba exclaimed. He stared at his daughters, dumb-founded.

“’Kẹkẹ’ is a bicycle”, he added, his head spinning. “What on earth do they mean? Do these girls slip out of the palace unknown to him and their maid or aided by their maid?” he wondered.

“Impossible! They wouldn’t defy my orders”, he reassured himself, calming down. He realized that he was letting his over-protectiveness to get the better of him.

“We don’t mean bicycles, father” the princesses said, and giggled, nudging each other. They then went on to explain what they meant by ‘kẹkẹ’ to their father.

Now, the princesses loved ọsan-agbalumọ; they loved sucking the succulent fruit, and were fascinated by the eye-catching shape and colour of the seeds inside, which they were collecting. There was an ọsan-agbalumọ tree in a secluded area, close to the odo-Ọba, where the princesses bathed everyday.

In the evening, when there was no one around, the princesses would go to this ọsan-agbalumọ tree, without their maid, to look for ọsan-agbalumọ which had fallen on the ground. Searching everywhere around the secluded area they would gather together as many ọsan-agbalumọ as each of them could carry in the bags they took along with them and go home excitedly to eat them. Instead of calling the seeds ‘ ewo-ọsan ’, they called them ‘kẹkẹ’ because the shape and colour of the seeds reminded them of the wheels of the bicycles they glimpsed on the streets, the few times they were allowed to go out.

“When you go in search of ‘kẹkẹ’ as you call these ewo-ọsan at the secluded area, is anyone else around?” the Ọba asked, more concerned about his daughters’ safety than about their being bored.
“Nobody, father”, the princesses said at the same time, and were disappointed when their father did not say anything further. They did not understand why he was so afraid of their having contact with other people. They would not leave it alone either.

“Surely it can’t be that bad, father? As the Ọba, people are always here to see you. Wura tells us about what goes on here every day…”, the oldest princess said.

It was indeed true. In those days, Ọbas played an important role in the day-to-day lives of their subjects, being called upon to settle disputes – no matter how small or inconsequential. An Ọba was expected to solve mysteries of any kind that baffled his subjects.

“You have to stop worrying about our safety and let us go out more”, the middle one said.

“It’s different for me. You’re too young to understand…”, the Ọba said, deep in thoughts.

“But you can’t keep us locked up as if we’re in prison until we grow up, father”, the youngest princess joined in.

“For heavens’ sake, you’re not locked up! You do go out – not often granted – but you’re not missing much. You’re very well provided for here, which is not to be said for a lot of people”, the Ọba said adamantly.

“We know you give us everything that we want, father, but we still want to know other people – know about their lives like you do”.

“We don’t even know who our relatives are, if we have any – aunts, uncles, cousins”.

“Nobody knows anything about us. I’m sure they can’t even tell us apart, not to talk of knowing our names”.

“We don’t even mind if they only know us by our nicknames. Mother used to call us by our real names when we were alone with her, and we want to use the names only when we’re alone with each other. We can’t explain it, but it makes us feel close to her, even though she’s dead”.

The Ọba could not explain it either but kept quiet. It did not bother him that no one knew the princesses’ real names. On the contrary, this made the princesses less accessible to others.

“I’m sure if mother was alive all this wouldn’t be happening”.
“No”, the Ọba agreed. “It’s because she’s dead that all this is happening! It’s a cruel world out there…”.

“What happened to her, father?”

The Ọba did not answer. He just shook his head and moved away, leaving his daughters dumb-founded.

As the princesses grew up nobody in the land could understand why they were being brought up in the way they were. People found it strange and mysterious, and very soon all sorts of questions were being asked in some quarters.

“Can there be something wrong with the princesses?”

“Can the Ọba be hiding them away because he doesn’t want anyone to find out what’s wrong?”

“Are they deaf or dumb or both perhaps?”

When the princesses got to know about the questions being asked about them, they challenged their father yet again about their sheltered life.

“Some people are wondering if something is wrong with us father, and they will soon be saying horrible, nasty things, no doubt. Please let us go out more and mix with other people – at least at the palace to begin with, so that people here will be able to tell those outside that nothing is wrong with us”.

The Ọba said nothing.

“What’d happen when we’re older, father? Surely you’d want us to get married and have children?”, the oldest princess asked.

“Who’d marry us if no one has access to us – if no one knows anything about us – or if they think something is wrong with us?”
The Ọba’s expression did change upon hearing this. He had never given any thoughts to the issue of his daughters getting married. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“The future will take care of itself” he said, avoiding answering his daughters’ questions.

Talks about the princesses continued as they grew into beautiful women. Their beauty was legendary. They were tall, elegant, with clear, beautiful eyes, glowing complexion, and well-proportioned bodies.

But there was something else about the princesses which made them stand out. They exuded humility, gentleness, kindness, and friendliness whenever anyone caught a glimpse of them – inside and outside the palace – and everyone liked them. People also felt sorry for them – for the lonely, secluded life they were living.

Very soon the princesses began to attract the attention of the young men in the region and beyond, including chiefs and other titled men, and especially the young men at the palace. There were courtiers’ sons, for example, who had grown up around the princesses, but who had not exchanged more than a few words with them. Everyone was talking about wanting to gain access to them, and about wanting to marry them. Wura, the princesses’ maid was inundated with requests from these young men to act as a go-between in their quest for the princesses’ hands.

“I saw the princesses yesterday, when they drove past. Aren’t they beautiful? I’d like to get to know them. Do you think the Ọba will allow me to call on them?”

“What lovely and charming young women the princesses have grown into! To think I’ve known them all my life and yet I don’t know anything about them at all! How can I get to speak to them?”

The Ọba got to know about these developments and realized that sooner or later his daughters would be old enough to get married, and would be expected to, and that meant parting with them. But how could he let them go?

“What would become of my daughters? Who can protect them as well as I do?” he was thinking.

Having brought them up the way he had it was difficult for him to part with them. He was afraid and did not know what to do – how to handle the situation.

“How will I know that whoever marries them will genuinely love them and is not marrying them because they’re princesses…”, he wondered. How would he go about getting his daughters married after he had shut them away for so long? How would they relate to a man? They know nothing about men, for goodness sake. Supposing they were taken advantage of – married for the wrong reasons?

Very soon talks of contenders reached the princesses’ ears through their maid, Wura, which the girls found exciting. They too had noticed some young men from afar – both inside and outside the palace – and had speculated about them. For example, they had noticed these men at palace events, and on the few occasions they went out. They had speculated about them. After all, the princesses, similarly to other young women of their age, had their dreams about such matters!

“How lovely it would be to meet some of these young men – get to know them!”, they confided in Wura quite often. Sometimes they would disclose the identity of some young men who had caught their fancy and would get very excited any time they learnt that the same young men had already expressed their interest to Wura.

Contrary to what the Ọba thought, the princesses believed that they knew some things about men, albeit from the stories they had been hearing from Wura. They wanted to marry for love and would not have imagined it otherwise.

“Father, we know you’re worried about us getting married, but we’re older now. Why don’t you let us start going out more – accepting invitations to parties and dances like other girls? Then we’ll be able to get to know some of these young men who’re interested in us…”.
The Ọba did not want to give his daughters the liberty of choosing their own husbands. The princesses had to be satisfied with whomever he chose for them. That was the practice (aṣa) at the time; parents, especially fathers, chose husbands for their daughters, although there were a few women who flaunted these laid-down rules.

The Ọba was aware of his daughters’ characters – that they had a mind of their own, and he knew that if he were to allow them to go out more, and they started meeting men, they would want to choose whomever they wanted. He also knew that the reason why they had not defied him since they were old enough to do so, was because of the respect they had for him. The Ọba’s word was rule, and how would it look if his own children defied him.

As the young men continued to show interest in the princesses, the latter were tempted to take matters into their own hands – to break away from their sheltered life just like their father was afraid they would do. They, like the young men, wanted Wura to act as go-between, so that they would make contact with the men, and get to know them. They continued to challenge their father more and more about their sheltered life and became more and more argumentative. They also broached the topic of men with their father, sometimes mentioning some specific young men they had noticed.

“I know Segi likes me. I’ve caught him looking at me in a certain way, and you know what, I like him as well, father. It’d be nice to be introduced to him…”, one of the princesses said.

“I agree. I feel the same way about Jere”, another one added.
“Sẹgi and Jere are nothing compared with Sawawo or about the way I feel about him…Why the other day, my heart almost stopped when I caught a glimpse of him…!”, the last one exclaimed, almost swooning.

By now the princesses had made up their minds to throw caution to the winds if their father did not listen to them one more time and start meeting suitors on the quiet with Wura acting as go-between. They would sneak out to meet the men or smuggle them into the palace somehow! They found the idea exciting and felt that they had nothing to lose. They had been too sheltered and needed to break free – experience what women of their age were experiencing. This would be the end to their boring and lonely lives.

After hearing his daughters talk about Sẹgi, Jere, and Sawawo in this manner, the Ọba was afraid that they might decide to start meeting suitors behind his back and might end up running away with them; he had to do something straightaway to prevent this. But that was not the only reason the Ọba felt he had to act immediately. He had been hearing rumours about his daughters and him.

“I’ve been told that the Ọba doesn’t want his daughters to get married because he wants to keep them with him forever. He doesn’t think that any man is good enough for them”.

“I’ve heard that they’re not even his daughters, and that he himself has designs on them. After all, why hasn’t he re-married all this time? He’s been waiting for them to grow up before he lays his hands on them”.

“That’ll explain why there’re no other wives at the palace as it usually happens. The Ọba wants to marry the girls himself!”

“For all we know the girls may even have lovers among the courtiers in the palace. That’d be very convenient for them all since the Ọba’s main concern is to shelter his daughters from the outside world”.
“Better still, the Ọba may have married the girls off to three of his courtiers without our knowing, in order to keep them with him…”.
“When the Ọba dies none of the girls can become Ọba, so it doesn’t bother him whether they marry or not. Now, if he had a son…”.

There were also speculations about the tragic death of the princesses’ mother, and about how it might explain the Ọba’s over-rotectiveness.
The Ọba was deeply worried and concerned. It was bad enough to have fears about his daughters running away with lovers or having lovers behind his back, but to keep on hearing all these ugly rumours…He thought and thought about it, and suddenly an idea occurred to him. He remembered what his daughters had said about anyone not knowing their real names.

“Why don’t I announce to the public that I’d give the princesses’ hands in marriage to any man who can fulfil certain conditions, and then make sure that these conditions are impossible to fulfil”.

It was not unusual for the Ọba to come up with things like this anyway. He was known for his whims and caprices like some other Ọbas. He did things to amuse himself and his court.

“Then everyone will think that I do want my daughters to get married. They will leave me alone, and all these rumours going around will die down…”.

Immediately, the Ọba sent one of his followers around the town and the outskirts to summon contenders to a meeting at the palace for the hands of his daughters. At the meeting he addressed the young men:

“The princesses have now reached the age when they should think of getting married. As you’re all aware, there’s no shortage of suitors, and this is where the problem lies. How am I going to choose among you all? Yet it’s my duty, as a father to do so. I’ve been giving a lot of thoughts to the whole issue and have decided to throw a party in seven days’ time, to which all of you are invited. At the beginning of the party you’ll be asked to compete for the hands of the princesses. I’ll not ask anything of the contenders such as money or land, but anyone who can come up with my daughters’ real names, and is the first to do so, on the night of the party will be allowed to marry the princesses”.

The Ọba paused and looked around the room, then continued:
“Only one man will marry my three daughters. As you know, the princesses have always been together since childhood, and can’t be parted from each other. Anyone who can take the trouble of finding out my daughters’ real names should be able to take the trouble of looking after them properly, and such a man will be worthy of them”.

There was a long silence from the young men present, and the Ọba knew why. None of them was likely to know the princesses’ names, and how could they have when they had not been given access to the princesses all this time. Besides, not all of the men would want to be married to three women! However, the Ọba’s conditions, difficult as they were to fulfil, did not deter the majority of the young men present from pursuing their goal.

Little did they know how wrong they were. They did not know that the Ọba was the only one who knew his daughters’ real names, apart from the princesses themselves. They rushed out immediately to look for ways of learning the princesses’ names within seven days – among them rich, titled and influential men.

“We have to find a way of gaining access to the maid or the courtiers, or others who might know the princesses, and perhaps through them to the princesses themselves”, they were thinking.

They quickly sought access to the palace through letters, verbal messages, addressed to the maid, the Ọba’s messengers, and to a few people who might have had contact with the princesses so far. They thought they might be lucky to be invited to the palace secretly, especially those who had approached the maid in the past, wanting her to act as a go-between. They befriended the courtiers with the hope that they might be invited to the palace.

It was, of course, and uphill task! They soon learnt that none of these people had access to the princesses, let alone knew their names. It was only the maid, Wura, who had access, and she only knew the princesses’ nicknames.

“No close friends?” someone asked in wonder.

“What about relatives?” someone else suggested.

“No one knows anything about the Ọba’s family – who they are!”

“It doesn’t seem as if he’s got any, because he doesn’t talk about them or receive anybody at the palace that he’s introduced as a relative! It’s all very strange…”.

“The princesses hardly mix with anyone inside or outside the palace”, volunteered one courtier.

After a while the contenders realized that they were wasting their time and started to look for other ways of finding out the princesses’ names.

“The princesses’ names must be unusual, and we have no choice but to take a guess – come up with extraordinarily sounding names for girls, and who knows? One of us may be lucky”, a contender advised one or two others”.

“Yes. It does look that way”.

So, that was what they all decided to do.

A long time ago, the world was very different. Humans and animals had much in common, lived side by side, spoke the same language and generally behaved the same way. Some animals, like the ijapa (tortoise) possessed remarkable physical and mental capabilities.
Usually human beings and animals did not marry each other, although it was not unheard of. Ijapa was known for trying to bring about this unusual situation. Ijapa was a devious character, full of mischief and pranks, always boasting that he could find solutions to any problems; he was a trickster who obtained things even humans could not through ruse. He had come to live in Makeke after being driven away from Isalẹ-Odo, near Jakọta, where he had been living, for entrapping a young boy, Rere, in a drum, and almost causing his death.

“I’d love to marry these beautiful princesses”, Ijapa was saying to himself. After all he was no longer with Yannibo. He had married Yannibo, but things had not worked out, and she had left with their children, to go and live with her parents – her leaving not unconnected with Ijapa’s misdeeds.

“How am I going to find out their names? Surely, I can do so, if nobody else can’t?” He thought and thought of a plan. Then suddenly it came!

“The princesses may very well call each other by their real names when they’re alone” he said to himself. “Why don’t I watch them to find out where they play, and what they find exciting. Perhaps in their excitement they’ll call out to each other”.

For the next few days Ijapa hid in the bush, under dead leaves, near the Ọba’s palace, where no one was allowed, to watch the princesses’ daily movements, and to eavesdrop on them. He soon discovered that every evening they slipped away from the palace, unknown to their maid, and came back carrying ọsan-agbalumọ , and that instead of calling the fruits’ seeds ewo-ọsan , the princesses called them ‘kẹkẹ’. Ijapa knew that there was an ọsan-agbalumọ tree in a secluded area close to the odo-Ọba which was out of bounds. So, he decided to change his hiding place, and hid in the bush, under dead leaves, close to the secluded area. It was after everyone had returned home from the farms in the evening that the princesses went in search of their ‘kẹkẹ’.

“Call each other by name”, Ijapa willed the princesses, the first time they appeared. But this did not happen. Going in search of ‘kẹkẹ’ was routine for the girls. They found ọsan-agbalumọ on the ground every time they went there, gathered them and left for home.

Then Ijapa thought:

“If something unexpected were to happen in connection with the ‘kẹkẹ’, surely the princesses will want to share it with each other?”
In the afternoon of the following day, Ijapa crept out from his hiding place, to go to the secluded area, where the ọsan-agbalumọ tree was, to pick some ọsan-agbalumọ , and found them scattered all over the ground. There was nobody around. Ijapa picked all the good ones, put them away in a bag he brought with him, leaving the rotten ones. Then he selected three very ripe, shinny and luscious ones, held them ready in his hands, hid behind a branch of the ọsan-agbalumọ tree, covered his face with some leaves, waiting for the princesses.
After a while, the princesses appeared, and when they got to the ọsan-agbalumọ tree they looked around on the ground for ọsan-agbalumọ, finding only the rotten ones.

“You’re in for a surprise! I’ve got all the good ‘kẹkẹ’ as you call them”, Ijapa chuckled to himself. He observed the princesses as they searched and searched until they were weary.

“Let’s go home. There aren’t any nice ‘kẹkẹ’ today” the eldest princess called out to her sisters, who were searching at different parts of the area.

“Wait for it! You’re going to be so excited you will call out to each other”, Ijapa said to himself. He quickly dropped one of the ọsan-agbalumọ in his hands in front of the eldest princess who was now close to where he himself was hiding.

As the princess heard the ọsan-agbalumọ drop she rushed to where it was, and saw a roundish luscious looking ọsan-agbalumọ , with a reddish hue. She could not believe her eyes:

“Where has it dropped from?” She picked up the ọsan-agbalumọ, examined it carefully, and called out excitedly to her sisters in a song:

Mori kẹkẹ kan I’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Mori kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
The two other princesses came running and rejoiced with their eldest sister. The latter moved away to look around more, encouraged by this turn of events.
“Opobipobi, we’d better continue to look around. Who knows? We may be lucky as Oripolobi, to find more “ọsan-agbalumọ”, Opobipobi said to her other sister, and she moved away.

Ijapa thanked his luck stars.

“Thank God! I know the names of the three princesses already: Opobipobi, Opobipobi (pronounced differently), Oripolobi” Ijapa said to himself, trying to commit them to memory.

“Hum! Strange names! I’d better study the girls very well, so that I can tell them apart. My! They’re so alike. Anyway, I’m going to drop two more “ọsan-agbalumọ”, in front of the two other sisters”.

As soon as Opobipobi moved away Ijapa dropped another ọsan-agbalumọ in front of her. Opobipobi could not believe her eyes either, and she too wondered where the ọsan-agbalumọ had dropped from. She rushed to pick up a similar looking agbalumọ as her sister’s, singing excitedly:

Mori kẹkẹ kan I’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Mori kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi pronounced differently
Gbinrin ajalỌbale, gbinrin
“Opobipobi, Opobipobi, Oripolobi”, Ijapa repeated to himself, studying the girls closely. Then he dropped the last ọsan-agbalumọ in his hands in front of Opobipobi, so that she would not be left out.

Opobipobi reacted the same way as her sisters, singing:

Mori kẹkẹ kan I’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Mori kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi pronounced differently
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin

By now the princesses were making fun of the whole episode, giggling, laughing profusely, and singing as they left home, varying the song:

Mori kẹkẹ kan I’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Mori kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi pronounced differently
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ari kẹkẹ kan We’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ari kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Oripolobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ijapa crept away unnoticed, in high spirits. He was confident that he would win the hands of the three lovely princesses whom he already admired.
“There’s no way anyone can guess at these names: Opobipobi, Opobipobi (pronounced differently), Oripolobi!”

The princesses, who had not bothered to argue with their father to any great lengths since he told them about the party, were calm and composed on the day. They were in no doubt that nothing would come out of their father’s quest, and that the evening would turn out to be just a party and fun. They had even put on hold their decision to start meeting suitors on the quiet, with Wura acting as a go-between. They did not feel that they were in any danger of being married off to anyone. After all there was no way anyone could guess their names. The names were only used when the princesses were alone.

They had been looking forward to the party because it would give them something exciting to do at last. They had been secretly looking forward to meeting the young men of the region and beyond. They hoped that those who had caught their fancy, such as Sẹgi, Jere, and Sawawo, and had registered their interest with Wura, would be among them. They had been preparing for the occasion – deciding on the clothes they would wear, and whether to have them made or not, discussing hair-dos, jewellery and accessories. They had also been discussing or even rehearsing what to say to the young men and speculating on what the latter would say to them.

“Do you think we’ll get to dance?” one of them asked.

“I hope so. I’d love to dance”, another one replied.

The princesses had been taught how to dance like some other things but had not had the opportunity of doing so in public.

Here they now sat, next to the Ọba. They were well adorned, and looked beautiful, elegant, graceful and captivating. The Ọba himself was resplendent in his Ọba’s regalia, including his crown and his sẹkẹrẹ (hand-held regalia).

The contenders were present, including Ijapa who was decked from head to toe, and looked like a chief (titled man) in his attire. He and some of his friends were the first to arrive at the palace. When it was time all the contenders were told to stand at one side of the room, among them highly placed and titled men. Everyone, including the Ọba, was shocked to see Ijapa among them, but said nothing. He did not believe for one second that Ijapa was about to compete for the hands of his daughters.

“That creature with a cracked shell thinks he can compete with us! What an insult!” said one contender to the contender next to him.
The princesses gaped; they nudged each other, and then exchanged a few words, giggling. They remained unruffled – calm and composed. It was obvious from their countenance, that they were not concerned about Ijapa being among the contenders, for they were convinced that no being on earth would know their names. In fact, they found the whole thing funny and had to control themselves from laughing out loud, wondering if their father really knew what he was doing.

They had already spotted some young men among the contenders that appealed to them, including Sẹgi, Jere and Sawawo, and decided to focus their attention on them instead of giving any thoughts to Ijapa, and the rest of the contenders.

All the contenders, except Ijapa, had been researching into the most unusual women’s names in the land, thinking that the princesses’ names must be so unusual for the Ọba to lay such great store on them.

The Ọba then gave the go-ahead to the contenders, nodding and raising his sẹkẹrẹ. They spoke rapidly one after the other:

“Kabiyesi! The princesses are called Sẹgirayọ, Sẹgirọla, Sẹgiriye”.

“You’re wrong. My daughters are not known by any of these names!” the Ọba replied.

“One is called Adeṣẹwa, another one Adejọju, and the last one Adeṣayọ”, another contender ventured.

“No, no, no! These are certainly not my daughters’ names!” the Ọba exclaimed.

“Adedara, Adedunmọla and Adedunmayọ, Kabiyesi!” ventured yet another contender.

“These are not my daughters’ names!” the Ọba answered.

Other contenders ventured, giving different unusual sounding names each time. It was all in vain. Ijapa was now the only one left.

“May I tell you your daughters’ names, Kabiyesi?” Ijapa asked, kneeling before the Ọba.

Everyone gasped.

“How could Ijapa think he would succeed where others have failed?” the contenders were thinking.

The Ọba found the whole thing amusing; he waved his ṣẹkẹrẹ and asked Ijapa to speak.

“After all he’s one of the contenders, and others have already spoken. There’s no way he can know the princesses’ names”, he thought with confidence, amused.

Iiapa turned to the congregation, and pointed at the princesses one by one, saying:

“This one is Opobipobi, Kabiyesi!”

At the mention of the first name, the Ọba sat up, adjusted his Ọba’s regalia, and looked right and left.

“This one is Opobipobi!” Ijapa continued, pronouncing the name differently.

The Ọba’s reeled. He stared at Ijapa, dumb-founded.

“This one is Oripolobi, Kabiyesi!” Ijapa finished.

The Ọba’s mouth flew wide open. He was deeply and visibly upset. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

It did not befit an Ọba to lie. However, he continued to gape. He gripped the table in front of him in the effort not to collapse.
“Yes”, he finally said, in a whisper.

The Ọba’s distress and shock were nothing compared with the princesses’ reaction to Ijapa’s revelation. They were so alarmed and horrified that for a long time they just stared at their father.

“What have you done, father? This can’t be happening to us. Surely our father is not going to marry us off to this…to an animal…! one of the princesses whispered to the other two, the three of them still in shock, thinking that their lives had come to an end.

The highly placed, titled and influential men present could not believe either that Ijapa whom they thought was beneath them would come from his village (abule) to snatch these princesses right under their noses.

“What’s the world coming to!” exclaimed one of them.

Once an Ọba had promised something, he had no choice but to fulfil it. He was obliged to hand over his daughters to Ijapa. The princesses continued to look at their father, and then at each other in horror, when the Ọba said:

“Opobipobi, Opobipobi, Oripolobi, you have to marry Ijapa”.

“Marry him!” one of them said.

“No way…!” another one said.

“I’d rather die. I’ll throw myself in the river if we leave with him”, the third princess threatened.

“So, would I!”

“And I!”

“If mother was alive, she wouldn’t have allowed this to happen”.

“We’d have been allowed to go out more – not brought up hidden away from the rest of the world. I’m sure she’d have allowed us to choose whomever we want”.

The princesses had to restrain themselves from bursting into tears as they vented out all the pent-up resentments that they felt about the way they had been brought up. With all the men available their father had to land them up with a creature like Ijapa!”

“What have I done?” the Ọba said aloud. He knew how deeply unhappy his daughters were, and that the threats they had just made were not empty threats.

The whole atmosphere was now boiling over, and it looked as if there would be an uproar. Ijapa, who had not been listening to what the princesses were saying, did not notice the atmosphere. He was busy rejoicing over his success; he motioned to the friends he had brought along with him to start drumming the same song he had heard the princesses sing each time he dropped the ọsan-agbalumọ in front of them when he was spying on them that day. Ijapa varied the song as he went along.

Mori kẹkẹ kan I’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Mori kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi pronounced differently
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ari kẹkẹ kan We’ve found a “kẹkẹ”
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ari kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Opobipobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Oripolobi
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ẹwa wo kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin
Ẹwa wo kẹkẹ kan
Gbinrin ajal Obalẹ , gbinrin

Ijapa danced away as he sang, and after a while the people hired by the Ọba to play different musical instruments for the occasion, joined Ijapa’s drummers, beating their drums, blowing their trumpets, and blasting their flutes etc. The mood Ijapa was in was infectious, and soon the congregation joined in the merriment, dancing and singing.

The princesses were taken aback by the song, and as they listened, they realized what must have happened – how Ijapa got to know their names.

“The audacity of the creature! He had no right spying on us, violating the rules…”, one of the princesses said to her sisters.

“This’d be the end of him once he’s found out!” another one said.
The princesses pulled themselves together quickly as it dawned on them that they could very well save the day. When everyone in the congregation was silent, one of the princesses said to the Ọba:
“Father, please ask Ijapa how he found out our names”.

“Why? Does it matter?” the Ọba replied wondering what difference this would make to what was on the ground.

“Just ask him. You remember the ‘kẹkẹ’ we told you about? Ijapa’s song is about them. Ijapa must have heard us singing this same song the other day”.

“Heard you? Where? Nobody, except your maid, Wura, is allowed anywhere near your private quarters in the palace. Everyone knows the rule – that the penalty for breaking it is severe. We’re talking about death here…Ijapa wouldn’t have dared…” the Ọba replied aghast and could not even speak coherently.

He seemed to be reliving his worst fears – harm befalling his daughters. He remembered what happened to his wife, their mother, on that fateful day, which led to his decision to shelter his daughters from the outside world. Had all his over-protectiveness been worth it, in view of what was happening now?

“The other day the three of us were at the area where the ọsan-agbalumọ tree is, searching all over the place for ọsan-agbalumọ …”, one of the princesses continued. Then the three of them recounted the whole episode to their father, and how they happened to have sung the song. As they spoke the implications of what they were saying started to dawn on the Ọba as well.

“If Ijapa has a death sentence hanging round his neck, he can’t possibly marry my daughters. Then I’m under no obligation to fulfil my promise”, he was thinking.

The Ọba asked everyone around to be quiet: “Silence, everyone!” he said.

“It’s been brought to my notice that Ijapa has committed a serious offence”, he started, and then went on to tell everybody how Ijapa got to know the princesses’ names.

“You all know that the princesses’ private quarters at the palace is specifically out of bounds to anyone except the princesses’ maid, and that the penalty for the violation of this order is death. Ijapa had no right to have gone there to spy on the princesses”.

Ijapa who, up till then, had not been paying attention to what was going on, being overwhelmed by his good fortune, sobered up when he heard what the Ọba was saying and realized his mistake in singing that song; it was a terrible blunder. He must have taken leave of his senses – got carried away by his success to know what he was doing. His elation turned to fear and horror as he thought:

“There’s no point in denying what I did. Nobody will believe me anyway. I didn’t know that the princesses had been talking about their ‘kẹkẹ’ to the Ọba…and nobody calls ewo-ọsan kẹkẹ…What’s going to happen to me? How I wish I’d never set eyes on these princesses! I’d rather not marry them than die…”.

“Naturally Ijapa can’t marry the princesses with a death sentence on his head…. “, the Ọba continued. “However, I’m not going to put Ijapa to death since he’s the only one who’s been able to come up with my daughters’ real names – a task, I now realize, shouldn’t have been imposed on any of you. Ijapa will be penalized instead.

“Thank you very much, Kabiyesi…I’m very grateful to you, Kabiyesi!”
Everybody applauded. Ijapa, who had been worried about his fate, relaxed and immediately took his leave, followed by his friends, ready to face any penalty he would receive from the Ọba for spying on his daughters.

The Ọba, relaxed, relieved that he had been able to ward off what could have, no doubt, been a major disaster, called for attention.
“One of the princesses once used the expression ‘locked away’ to describe their lives here and I reacted to it strongly. But this is exactly what it is, and I’m going to put an end to it. The best way forward is to let my daughters go out more and leave them to decide on whomever they want to marry. My duty, as a parent, is to guide them in the right direction, and not force them to marry anyone they don’t want to marry. This is how we parents cause unhappiness for our children for ever”.

“Opobipobi, Opobipobi (pronounced differently), Oripolobi, mix with these people, talk to them and get to know them. You can also invite anyone you want to the palace – to your private quarters. The penalty is lifted!”

There was nothing the princesses would have liked better, and for the first time, since their mother’s death, they felt truly happy.
The Ọba then called for his musicians to start playing, and food and drinks to be served. The spectators were also told to join in.

“Enjoy the rest of the evening, everybody! This is the happiest day of my life!”

The princesses were very happy with the turn of events, and for the rest of the evening they enjoyed themselves thoroughly, eating, drinking, dancing. They were surrounded by all these young men, some of whom they found appealing, who wanted to get to know them, who were asking them questions, paying them a lot of attention. Sẹgi, Jere and Sawawo were among them, and the princesses spent far more time with the three, dancing, talking and laughing with them.

It was obvious to everyone around that romance was in the air – that the princesses were besotted with Sẹgi, Jere and Sawawo as the latter were with them! The Ọba noticed what was going on as well and thought that he could put an end to his worries about his daughters.

The princesses also knew that from then on, their lives would change for the better.