Here the blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan authors another play in a style inspired by Shakespearean tragedy and blank verse, drawing on the themes and structure of the Ifá tradition.
Play Title: The Weight of the Odu: A Tragedy in Five Acts
Style Note: Written in blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter) with occasional prose for lower-status characters, mirroring Shakespearean dramatic conventions.
Dramatis Personae
OBA ADEWALE: King of the Yoruba city-state of Orile, a man of noble intent burdened by a hidden past.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA: A respected Ifá Priestess, a seer and counselor to the court.
PRINCE OLADIPO: Adewale’s favored son, heir to the throne.
BABA FAKUNLE: A blind, revered Babaláwo (Ifá Priest), much like the seer Teiresias in Greek tragedy.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE: A loyal but pragmatic elder of the council.
MESSENGER: A minor court official.
GUARDS, ATTENDANTS, CHIEFS.
Act I, Scene I
Setting: The royal courtyard of the Palace in Orile. A sacred divination tray (Opon Ifá) is visible. Dawn is breaking.
Enter OBA ADEWALE, IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA, and CHIEF OGUNDIPE.
OBA ADEWALE
Good morrow, wise Iyalowo, and Chief Ogundipe,
The sun doth rise, yet darkness haunts my sleep.
This land, Orile, suffers 'neath a curse,
The harvest fails, our streams run dry with loss.
What hidden anger stirs the great Orishas?
We've fasted, prayed, made sacrifice of beast,
Yet peace and plenty hold themselves aloof.
I pray you, speak, what counsel does Ifá grant?
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
My liege, the sacred palm nuts have been cast,
The Odu speaks, a grave and solemn tale.
The pattern forms the sign of Ogbe-Ate,
A path to blessed fortune, yet fraught with peril.
It speaks of one who seeks what is not his,
A stolen destiny, a birthright claimed in ignorance.
The cure lies not in wealth of goat or yam,
But in the cleansing of a hidden sin,
A truth long buried, meant for honest air.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
(Aside, to Oba Adewale)
A hidden sin, my Lord? What portents these?
Your reign hath been most righteous, just, and fair.
Perhaps the Priestess speaks in metaphor?
OBA ADEWALE
(To Ogundipe)
No metaphor for hunger, good my Chief.
(To Iyalowo)
Speak plain, Iyalowo, I have no mind for riddles.
Whose sin is this that blights my people's lives?
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
The Oracle demands a truth unveiled,
A secret known but to the stars and earth,
And to the blind seer, Baba Fakunle, who knows all the hidden problems.
He waits without, the wisdom of the gods,
To trace the lineage of this foul mischance.
Shall he be bid to enter and to speak?
OBA ADEWALE
Bring him forth, though his words be sharp as swords.
We seek the light, whate'er the shadow hides.
Enter BABA FAKUNLE, led by a small attendant. His eyes are covered with a cloth.
BABA FAKUNLE
(His voice resonant)
Where justice fails, there Orunmila speaks.
The air is thick with consequence and fate,
A king sits on a seat not forged for him,
A life built on the ruin of another.
OBA ADEWALE
Bold words, old man! Beware thy tongue's loose wagging.
I am the rightful King, by birth and crown!
What foul impostor claims my lawful throne?
BABA FAKUNLE
Not foul impostor in the common sense,
But one who lives a lie without his ken.
The past, like smoke, doth rise to cloud the sun,
And all Orile suffers for the truth suppressed.
The very ground on which thy palace stands
Doth cry out for the rightful heir's return.
OBA ADEWALE
By heaven's grace, thou dost provoke my wrath!
Name the man, or seal thy lips forever.
BABA FAKUNLE
The man thou seek'st, the cause of all this woe,
Doth stand before me, clad in kingly robes.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
(Gasps in disbelief, murmuring spreads among the attendants)
Hark to the madness! Seize the frantic seer!
His blindness hath infected his poor mind!
BABA FAKUNLE
Unbind me, fool! My eyes see more than yours!
The child that was forsaken long ago,
Whose father's blood upon the path was spilled,
Whose mother wailed unto the silent moon,
That child is now the King, Oba Adewale!
OBA ADEWALE
(Stunned, his hand on his sword hilt)
Lies! Damned lies! My father was a king,
I am his son, his lineage pure and true!
BABA FAKUNLE
Consult the Oracle again, proud King.
The signs all point towards the Oturupon-Owonrin.
Ifá declares: "Whatever we do not find solution to, Let us ask Ikin."
Your lineage is of Orile, yes, but not of kings.
Thou art the child of prophecy, a tale
Of fate fulfilled, despite man's best attempt
To change the stars and mock the gods' decree.
To lift the curse, the rightful heir must rise,
Or thou must yield, and seek a humble life.
The scene ends with Oba Adewale standing frozen, the weight of the prophecy upon him as the court looks on in shock.
Act I, Scene II
Setting: A secluded chamber within the palace, dimly lit.
Enter OBA ADEWALE and CHIEF OGUNDIPE. The Oba paces frantically.
OBA ADEWALE
The blind man's words burn within the ear,
Like coals of fire upon a guilty soul.
But the speaker is not guilty! The father raised him well,
He taught governance, the weight of crown.
He swore the speaker's blood was pure, the claim assured!
Was the father a liar? A deceiver of his son?
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
My Lord, the seer is old, his wits astray.
We must not let these baseless, frantic claims
Undermine the kingdom's trust in you.
The people starve; their minds seek easy blame.
OBA ADEWALE
But what if truth lies buried in his rage?
The father, when he lay upon his deathbed,
Did clutch the speaker's hand with such a desperate grip,
And whispered words that were born of fever:
"The secret, Wale... bear the weight of it...
Orile's future... stained with my offence..."
The speaker thought it ravings then, but now, a truth
Doth chill the very marrow with its bite.
Enter PRINCE OLADIPO.
PRINCE OLADIPO
My father, you are troubled. Word has spread
Of Baba Fakunle's wild accusation.
The court is buzzing, thick with rumour's sting.
Who is this man, what ancestry doth he claim?
OBA ADEWALE
(Turning away, his voice strained)
A man of air, my son, a ghost of past
Misdeeds that haunt the living present day.
Go, tend the people, show them steadfast strength.
Their Prince must be a pillar in this storm.
PRINCE OLADIPO
A pillar I shall be, but not in blindness.
If the reign is questioned by the Oracle,
Then we must face the truth with kingly might.
Send for the seer again. I'll question him.
My claim shall stand, as pure as morning dew!
OBA ADEWALE
No! Leave it be! Some truths are best left hid.
PRINCE OLADIPO
(Confused, stepping back)
Hid? My liege, your words are most opaque.
Does this old man speak truth of some offence
Committed by my grandsire long ago?
We must know all, to cleanse the royal line.
OBA ADEWALE
(Shouting, then softening)
We know enough! Go, tend your duties, Dipo.
The palace guard needs strengthening at the gates.
There is unease, a murmur in the crowds.
Ensure the peace, by force if need demands.
Prince Oladipo bows stiffly and exits, troubled.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
He is a man of honour, your good son.
He seeks the truth, as all good leaders should.
If this seer speaks of a true offense,
We must address it, for Orile's sake.
The Oracle of Ifá cannot be ignored;
To slight the Odu is to court disaster.
OBA ADEWALE
Then the speaker must seek the full truth from the source.
The blind seer must tell the speaker all he knows.
But not in court, not where all ears can hear.
In secret, 'neath the cover of the night.
If what he says is true, then all is lost.
The speaker's kingdom, his son's future, all undone
By sins committed ere the speaker drew first breath.
Oh, heavy burden of inherited fault!
Send for the seer. Tell him the King demands
A private audience, when the moon is high.
They exit in haste.
Act I, Scene III
Setting: A market square in Orile. People are gathering, some looking hungry and distressed. A MESSENGER from the court tries to address them.
Enter several CITIZENS, arguing among themselves. Enter MESSENGER.
FIRST CITIZEN (Prose)
I tell you, the gods are angry! Three goats died this morn, all healthy yesterday. There’s no water in the south side of the village.
SECOND CITIZEN (Prose)
And did you hear what that blind man said in the court? That the King isn't the true King? A curse upon the palace!
THIRD CITIZEN (Prose)
Aye, I heard it. Ifá does not lie. The King hides a secret. While he feasts, we starve.
MESSENGER (Prose)
Good people, quiet! Hearken to the King’s proclamation! His Grace, Oba Adewale, sends word of new grain from the eastern stores, to be distributed fairly at sundown! Patience, good people, patience!
FIRST CITIZEN (Prose)
Grain? A few measures when our fields are dust? He thinks to buy our loyalty with scraps?
SECOND CITIZEN (Prose)
If he be not the rightful king, then his gifts are worthless. The Oracle spoke truth! We need a true leader, one blessed by the Orishas.
THIRD CITIZEN (Prose)
Treasonous talk! Beware the guards!
Guards enter the square, dispersing the crowd. The citizens grumble and scatter.
MESSENGER (To himself, in verse)
The seeds of doubt are sown in barren ground,
And quick to sprout is discontent and fear.
If kings lose favour with the gods above,
The common man soon questions their command.
This fragile peace shall break ere morning comes.
He exits, the square now empty.
(The play would continue with Oba Adewale's secret meeting with Baba Fakunle, revealing the full story of the past transgression, followed by the conflicts that arise as this truth becomes public knowledge, leading inevitably to tragedy as the characters wrestle with destiny, honor, and the powerful judgments of the Ifá Oracle.)
Act II, Scene I
Setting: The secluded chamber within the palace, much later that night. A single oil lamp burns low.
Enter OBA ADEWALE and BABA FAKUNLE, led by his attendant, who then withdraws.
OBA ADEWALE
The people are alone. The walls themselves have ears
In times of trouble. Speak, then, ancient seer,
Unburden the speaker of this most dreadful weight.
What history stains the honour of the speaker's house?
BABA FAKUNLE
The truth is costly, King. Are you prepared
To pay the price in full, with dignity?
The Oracle, through Irete-Meji, commands
That truth must light the darkness, howe'er fierce the flame.
OBA ADEWALE
Speak! The speaker is prepared. The land requires it.
BABA FAKUNLE
Then listen well to a tale of jealous hearts
And power seized by hands not meant to hold it.
Thy father, King, was a man of ambition, swift to act.
He had a brother, elder, wiser, just,
Whose birthright was the throne on which you sit now.
This brother, Olumide, loved the land,
And was beloved by all, by commoner and chief.
But thy sire hungered for the crown's bright gleam.
OBA ADEWALE
My uncle, Olumide? The speaker scarce recalls his face.
He vanished when the speaker was a boy.
They said a lion took him in the hunt.
BABA FAKUNLE
No lion's claw did end good Olumide's life,
But human malice, steeped in deepest night.
Thy father, in his quest for power absolute,
Did plot his brother's death, a treacherous act.
He cast the Odu, seeking Ifá’s will,
And Osa-Meji foretold a kingly fate
For Olumide’s son, whose mother was with child.
OBA ADEWALE
(A cold dread seizing him)
A son? My cousin lives?
BABA FAKUNLE
The father's treachery went deeper still.
He killed his brother, stole the crown by force,
And banished Olumide's pregnant wife,
A silent banishment to distant shores.
He told the world the line was clean and clear,
And raised his own son, thee, to wear the crown.
The Oracle demands the rightful heir,
The son of Olumide, lost but living still.
OBA ADEWALE
(Reeling, gripping the edge of a table)
This cannot be! The speaker's life, a gilded lie?
The speaker's father, murderer? A usurper's son?
Then all the speaker's reign, all that the speaker thought was just,
Is built on sand and cemented with blood.
Where is this cousin? Name the man, the speaker prays!
BABA FAKUNLE
Ah, there the Odu speaks in riddles once again.
He lives within Orile, though he knows it not.
Raised by a humble farmer, far from courtly life,
He walks among the people, veiled by fate.
The sign of Oyeku-Meji warns: "Death is near for the one who does not heed the warning."
The gods demand that you step aside,
And find the true king, ere the kingdom falls.
OBA ADEWALE
(His voice a whisper)
Step aside? Yield the speaker's throne, the speaker's name, the speaker's honour?
And tell the speaker's son he is no prince at all?
The people will not stand for such a turn!
Chaos will reign, blood will flow in the streets!
The speaker must not do this, cannot bear it!
BABA FAKUNLE
The gods care not for chaos of the state,
They care for justice and the truth unveiled.
Deny the Odu, and a greater chaos comes,
A blight upon the land that none can stop.
Ifá has spoken. The choice, King, is yours.
Baba Fakunle turns and slowly exits the chamber. Oba Adewale stands alone, the lamp flickering on his tormented face.
Act II, Scene II
Setting: A simple farmstead on the outskirts of Orile. Morning.
Enter the rightful heir (currently known as IDOWU, a farmer) and his adoptive father, AGED FARMER. They are mending a fence.
IDOWU (Prose, then verse)
The soil is dry, good father. Not a drop
Of rain has graced our fields in near a month.
The market gossip speaks of royal strife,
And curses placed upon the King's own house.
AGED FARMER (Prose)
Aye, the gods are angry. But the speaker must work, regardless of the palace woes. Put the speaker's back to it, boy. The speaker have enough trouble of the speaker's own.
IDOWU (Switching to verse, as his noble nature surfaces)
The speaker heard the blind seer, Baba Fakunle,
Did challenge the King’s claim, a mighty shock.
He speaks of a lost heir, a stolen life.
Doth it not stir a wonder in your breast?
AGED FARMER
(Startled, dropping his tool)
What talk is this? A wonder? Nay, just idle chat.
Stick to your farming, Idowu, ’tis your lot.
IDOWU
But father, you found the speaker, did you not?
Nigh on twenty years ago, near the river's bend?
You always said the speaker's parents were lost to fever,
But the speaker feels a different blood within his veins,
A restlessness, a soul that yearns for more
Than tilling earth and chasing stubborn goats.
Who am the speaker, truly? Tell the speaker, the speaker demands it!
AGED FARMER
(Wringing his hands, fearful)
Press the speaker not, my son, for the speaker is bound by oath!
An oath to your true mother, ere she died,
That none should know your lineage, for your safety!
The King, his father—nay, the one who ruled then—
Did threaten all who harboured the speaker with death.
IDOWU
(A realization dawning)
Then it is true! The blood of kings runs in these hands!
The Oracle spoke of the speaker, of Olumide's son!
The land is cursed because the speaker lives in shade!
The speaker must go to the palace, make his claim,
Restore the balance, lift the heavy curse!
AGED FARMER
(Clutching Idowu's arm)
No, wait! The King, Adewale, is a good man now,
Though his father sinned. He means no harm to you.
Stay here in safety, let the storm pass o'er!
IDOWU
Safety? Whilst Orile starves and justice weeps?
The speaker is no coward. The speaker's fate calls out!
The Odu demands the truth be brought to light.
The speaker must fulfil his destiny,
Or live a life of shame, a hidden man.
Idowu breaks free and runs off toward the city. The Aged Farmer wails in despair.
(The act ends with the two heirs, Oba Adewale and Idowu, set on a collision course, both driven by a sense of duty and the inescapable weight of the Ifá prophecy.)
Act III, Scene I
Setting: The royal throne room in the Palace of Orile. It is a day later. The atmosphere is tense.
Enter OBA ADEWALE, CHIEF OGUNDIPE, IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA, and several other Chiefs and Guards. They are awaiting news.
OBA ADEWALE
Has the messenger returned from the farmlands?
Did he find the man the speaker seeks? Idowu,
The son of Olumide, the true-born heir.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
He has, my liege. But brings ill tidings back.
The farmer, Agbo, swears the young man left
In haste this morn, towards the city gates,
His head filled up with notions of his birth,
Resolved to claim his right and face the speaker.
He knows the truth, my Lord. The word is out.
OBA ADEWALE
(A pained sigh)
Then the speaker's private sorrow is the public’s fare.
The die is cast. What justice does the speaker serve?
To hold the crown and spill this cousin's blood,
Or yield the throne and plunge the state in chaos?
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
The Odu of Ifá, Ogunda-Meji, commands:
"He who knows the law and keeps it not,
Shall be consumed by fire and by the flood."
The gods favor the truth, not easy peace.
The balance must be set right, whate'er the cost.
OBA ADEWALE
The cost is all the speaker's life has built!
The speaker's son, young Dipo, is a prince of worth,
A scholar and a warrior, fit to rule.
This farmer-cousin, rough and unrefined,
Shall bring Orile to its knees, for lack of skill.
Is that the gods' desire? A kingdom wrecked?
A loud commotion is heard from the courtyard.
GUARD (Off-stage)
Stay back! You cannot enter the King's court!
IDOWU (Off-stage, his voice clear and strong)
The speaker comes with justice on his side,
With Ifá's blessing and the truth for shield!
Stand not between the speaker and his fate!
Enter IDOWU, dressed in simple farming clothes but carrying himself with an innate nobility. He is flanked by two guards who try to restrain him.
OBA ADEWALE
(To the guards)
Unhand him. Let him speak.
(To Idowu, his voice trembling slightly)
So, cousin, we meet at last, in sorrow's court.
You are Idowu, son of Olumide the Just.
IDOWU
(Bowing low, but with dignity)
The speaker is, my Lord, the speaker bears that name,
Though raised in shade and ignorance of his line.
The land suffers for the speaker's stolen right.
The Oracle has spoken, the curse is known.
The speaker asks you now, before these noble chiefs,
Will you restore the balance, as the Odu bids?
Will you step down, and grant the speaker his true place?
OBA ADEWALE
A bold request from one whose hands hold soil,
Not scepter. You know not the weight of crown,
The endless council, the diplomacy with foes,
The burden of a thousand lives in hand.
My son, Prince Oladipo, is prepared,
He has been trained in statecraft all his days.
The speaker offers you wealth, a noble rank,
A house of high esteem, a place in court.
Forsake this claim, for Orile's fragile peace.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
(Whispering to Oba Adewale)
A generous offer, King. It might appease his claim.
IDOWU
(Shaking his head)
The speaker seeks no wealth, no rank that is not his by birth.
The speaker seeks but justice for his father's ghost,
And healing for this land that groans in pain.
Your rule, though perhaps well-meant, is founded on a sin.
The gods reject the speaker's reign, the speaker hears their voice.
Ifá demands the rightful heir take up the load.
The speaker will not be bought with gold or land.
The speaker must be King.
Enter PRINCE OLADIPO, who has been watching from the shadows, his face a mask of anger and disbelief.
PRINCE OLADIPO
(Drawing his sword slightly)
What arrogance is this? A common farmer
Usurping my father's grace, and my own
The speaker must be King.
Enter PRINCE OLADIPO, who has been watching from the shadows, his face a mask of anger and disbelief.
PRINCE OLADIPO
(Drawing his sword slightly)
What arrogance is this? A common farmer
Usurping my father's grace, and my own future!
You speak of gods and justice, yet you bring
Sedition to the palace gates! Be gone,
Ere the speaker has you thrown in the deepest dungeon!
OBA ADEWALE
(Holding up a hand to stop Oladipo)
Dipo, peace. He speaks the truth of his birth.
This is my cousin, a prince of the blood.
PRINCE OLADIPO
(Stunned, looking from his father to Idowu)
A prince? This beggar? Father, have you lost your wits?
He is a threat, a viper in the court!
The speaker says we seize him now, and end this farce!
IDOWU
(Stepping forward, unarmed)
The speaker fears no threat, Prince Dipo.
The speaker's cause is just, his spirit strong.
The people murmur in the streets, they know
The truth is out. They starve whilst you debate
Which hand should hold the power. Give the speaker his right.
OBA ADEWALE
(To all the Chiefs)
The speaker is undone. The Odu holds us fast.
The speaker must consult the Council, weigh the odds.
We need a path that spares Orile from war.
(To Idowu)
Cousin, you shall stay here, as our guest,
Until the elders judge this heavy case.
Oba Adewale exits, followed by the silent, conflicted chiefs. Prince Oladipo glares at Idowu before storming out.
Idowu stands alone in the vast throne room, a simple man caught in the machinery of fate.
(The play would continue with the council meetings, the political turmoil, the increasing pressure from the starving populace, and the ultimate conflict as the two sides clash—a conflict that cannot end well, given the tragic nature of the genre and the demands of the Oracle for radical truth.)
Act III, Scene II
Setting: A dimly lit corridor outside the council chambers. Night has fallen.
Enter PRINCE OLADIPO and CHIEF OGUNDIPE, deep in conversation.
PRINCE OLADIPO
The council wavers, Chief. They speak of duty,
Of honouring the gods, of bowing to the Odu's will.
They fear the curse more than they fear a weak,
Unskilled king upon Orile's noble throne!
This farmer knows not war, nor trade, nor law.
He is a cipher, an empty vessel, a pawn of fate.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
My Prince, the gods demand obedience first.
The people suffer greatly. Their belief
In the King's sanctity is all but gone.
If the speaker ignores the Oracle again,
The famine turns to plague, the plague to war.
Your father's father did a grievous wrong.
We all must pay the price.
PRINCE OLADIPO
But why should I pay the price? The speaker is innocent!
The speaker was born in honour, raised in truth,
Taught to defend this land with his last breath.
The speaker will not yield his birthright to a ghost
Risen from the past! The speaker loves this realm too much.
If my father is too weak to hold his crown,
Then I must act, and save the kingdom from itself.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
(Alarmed)
Act? My Lord Prince, what mean you by this word?
No violence, I pray you, no further sin!
Ifá abhors the spilling of royal blood.
PRINCE OLADIPO
The blood has already stained the land, good Chief,
By my grandfather's hand! One more drop shed
To save Orile, not condemn it, might be justified.
The speaker speaks hypothetically, of course.
But know this: I will not see my heritage
Dissolve like mist before a blind man's tale.
Oladipo storms off. Ogundipe watches him go, shaking his head in fear.
CHIEF OGUNDIPE (Aside)
Ambition is a fearful, hungry beast.
It eats at reason, gnaws upon the soul.
If the Prince acts rashly, all is lost,
And tragedy shall claim us one and all.
The gods grant us protection from his zeal.
Act III, Scene III
Setting: A guest chamber in the palace. Idowu is resting. Enter Oba Adewale.
OBA ADEWALE
You rest but little, cousin. Nor do I.
The kingdom weighs heavy on the speaker's heart.
The council still debates the Odu's path.
IDOWU
The path is clear, my Lord, though steep and hard.
Justice, then healing. That is Ifá’s way.
The speaker meant no harm in his approach,
But urgency doth ride upon the wind.
The people starve.
OBA ADEWALE
The speaker knows.
(He pauses, choosing his words carefully)
The speaker must confess, when first the speaker saw your face,
A fear did chill his soul. But now, the speaker sees
A noble bearing, despite your farmer's garb.
You are your father's son, true Olumide's image.
Perhaps the gods were right, as they always are.
The speaker has lived a lie, a comfortable lie,
And now the truth doth burn the speaker's world to ash.
IDOWU
There is no blame upon your head, my King.
You did not choose this fate, but were thrust in it.
We are but players in the hands of destiny,
Guided by the Odu’s complex, sacred dance.
Ifá reveals the past to heal the present pain.
OBA ADEWALE
A generous thought. But my own son, my Dipo,
He sees it differently. He fears for order,
For strength of rule. He thinks you are too soft,
Too green for kingly might in a harsh world.
Be wary of his zeal, gentle cousin.
His love for Orile sometimes blinds his mind.
IDOWU
The speaker shall be wary. Yet, the speaker trusts the gods
Will shield the speaker in his righteous cause.
The speaker seeks no power for power's sake,
But service to the land that cries for balance.
OBA ADEWALE
(A faint smile)
A king's true heart. Perhaps you are prepared.
If the council decides the speaker must step down,
The speaker shall do so with what grace he can muster.
The speaker just prays that peace, not war, shall follow.
Rest now. We face a new day, full of fate.
Oba Adewale exits, leaving Idowu with a look of contemplation and resolve.
Adewale exits, leaving Idowu with a look of contemplation and resolve.
Act IV, Scene I
Setting: The palace entrance at dawn. Guards are present.
Enter MESSENGER, running in haste, looking terrified.
FIRST GUARD (Prose)
What news, man? Why do you run like a spooked gazelle?
MESSENGER (Prose)
Oh, horror! A great darkness has befallen us!
Prince Oladipo, the King's own son,
He rode out in the dead of night, armed and angry!
SECOND GUARD (Prose)
Rode out? Where to?
MESSENGER
To the sacred grove where Baba Fakunle lives!
He spoke of silencing the voice of fate,
Of stopping the Oracle from ruining his life!
Enter OBA ADEWALE, IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA, and CHIEF OGUNDIPE, hearing the commotion.
OBA ADEWALE
What madness is this? Dipo rode armed to the grove?
Speak, man, what did he do? Did he harm the seer?
MESSENGER
He did worse, my King! He found the ancient seer
Consulting the Odu by moonlight, seeking peace.
The Prince, enraged, called him a liar and a traitor!
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
Oh, blasphemy! To call the voice of Ifá a traitor!
The gods will curse his line forevermore!
MESSENGER
The Prince raised his sword, meaning to strike the seer,
But before the blade could fall, the earth did tremble!
A great bolt of lightning, from a clear night sky,
Did strike the Prince's sword hand! He screamed,
And the ground beneath him opened wide and deep!
OBA ADEWALE
(A cry of anguish)
My son! My Dipo! No, it cannot be!
MESSENGER
He is trapped, my Lord! The earth holds him fast,
A prisoner of the gods' swift, awful wrath!
The people gather there now, they see the sign,
That Ifá will not be mocked, nor its truth denied!
Oba Adewale collapses to his knees, his face in his hands. Chief Ogundipe looks horrified. Iyalowo Kofoworola looks solemn.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
The Odu Ose-Otura says: "He who digs a pit, falls into it."
The Prince sought to silence truth with violence,
And the earth, the realm of Onile, swallowed him whole.
The gods have judged the house of Adewale,
And sealed the fate of the usurper's line.
The balance is restored, though at a fearful cost.
The curtain falls on a scene of total despair and the confirmation of the Oracle's inescapable power.
(The final act would deal with the tragic aftermath: Oba Adewale accepting his fate and stepping down, the freeing of Oladipo from his earthly prison only for him to die from his injuries or banishment, and Idowu reluctantly taking the throne, a king crowned in sorrow and sacrifice.)
Act IV, Scene II
Setting: The Sacred Grove on the outskirts of Orile. It is dawn. The air is charged. A large crowd has gathered. A fissure in the earth holds PRINCE OLADIPO fast, his arm twisted and burned. He is in pain but conscious. OBA ADEWALE, CHIEF OGUNDIPE, IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA, and IDOWU arrive.
OBA ADEWALE
(Rushing to the edge of the chasm)
My son! My Dipo! How the speaker's heart doth bleed
To see thee thus, held fast by angry gods!
We meant no disrespect, we meant no harm!
Ifá, O Orunmila, spare the speaker's son!
PRINCE OLADIPO
(His voice weak, pained, but defiant)
Spare me? Why should they spare a prince who sees
That cowardice has seized his father's will?
The speaker sought to do what must be done!
To save Orile from a farmer-king!
IDOWU
(Approaching cautiously, with compassion)
Good cousin, pride has brought thee to this end.
The speaker sought no crown through violence,
But through the will of heaven and of fate.
The speaker bears no malice in his heart.
Let us release thee, pray the gods for grace.
PRINCE OLADIPO
Grace from a farmer? Never! (He groans in pain)
My hand is burned, the fire of the gods' wrath.
They judged me rash, they judged my cause untrue.
Ifá's power is absolute, a mighty force.
I mocked the seer, and thus I mocked the gods.
The speaker pays the price.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
The Oracle, through Ofun-Okanran, speaks:
"It is the character that Ifá creates, that a person will have."
Your character was prideful, swift to anger,
And thus your fate was sealed the moment the speaker drew your sword.
We must make sacrifice to Onile, the Earth Goddess,
To free the prince and seek the gods' reprieve.
A great white ram, unsullied and pure, is needed.
OBA ADEWALE
Bring it forth! All the wealth the speaker has!
Anything to save my boy!
Attendants rush off and quickly return with a large white ram. Iyalowo Kofoworola begins a solemn rite, chanting and making offerings by the fissure.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
Onile, great Mother, holder of the dead,
We seek your favour, beg for kind release.
The sin was pride, the error of a youth.
Accept this blood, this life for Dipo's life.
Let justice be appeased, and mercy shown!
As the sacrifice is made, the ground around the fissure shifts and trembles again. The opening widens slightly, releasing Oladipo, who falls weakly to the ground.
OBA ADEWALE
(Rushing to his son, holding him)
He is free! Thank the gods, he breathes!
PRINCE OLADIPO
(Whispering, his strength fading fast)
Free... but stained... the fire burns in my veins.
Father, forgive my haste... the speaker sees it now...
The crown is yours to yield, not mine to seize...
The Odu must be honoured... Idowu...
He has the heart of a true king...
Tell mother... tell them... I died with honour...
Oladipo shudders once and dies in his father's arms. A wail goes up from the crowd.
OBA ADEWALE
(A cry of ultimate despair)
The price is paid in blood! My noble son,
Consumed by fate, the victim of a sin
Committed ere the speaker had his life!
Oh, heavy is the burden of the past!
The gods have spoken with a voice of thunder.
The speaker's reign is over. The balance must be struck.
He stands slowly, his face aged by sorrow, and turns to Idowu.
OBA ADEWALE
Idowu, son of Olumide, true heir of Orile.
The gods have judged us, and their will is plain.
The speaker yields the throne, the sceptre, and the crown.
Rule well, my cousin. Rule with justice and with truth.
Heal this land, which the speaker's family has wounded deep.
The speaker shall retire, and live a humble life,
In prayer and penance for the sins of his sire.
Oba Adewale takes off his royal crown and places it gently on the ground.
IDOWU
(Approaching the crown with reluctance, tears in his eyes)
The speaker accepts this heavy charge with sorrow,
Not joy. The speaker's first act as King shall be
To mourn the prince, a victim of our fate.
May Ifá guide the speaker's hand, and bring
True peace at last to suffering Orile.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
(To the crowd)
The balance is restored! The Odu's will fulfilled!
Long live Idowu, King of Orile!
The crowd shouts, but their cheers are mingled with the sounds of sorrow for the fallen prince. Oba Adewale walks slowly away, a broken
Act V, Scene I
Setting: The palace throne room, several days later. It has been cleansed. KING IDOWU sits upon the throne, looking solemn. Chiefs are present. Enter a MESSENGER.
KING IDOWU
What news from the fields, messenger? Doth the rain fall?
MESSENGER
It does, my King! A gentle, soaking rain,
The first in months! The crops have started sprouting,
A sign the gods accept your righteous rule!
A cheer goes up from the Chiefs.
KING IDOWU
Praise be to Ifá, praise the great Orishas.
The land shall heal, as shall its weary souls.
(To Chief Ogundipe)
And Oba Adewale? How does he fare in his retreat?
CHIEF OGUNDIPE
He lives a simple life, in quiet prayer.
His spirit broken, but his soul at peace,
Having fulfilled the gods' demanding will.
KING IDOWU
Go, send him word that he is ever welcome
At Orile's court, not as King, but as friend.
His sacrifice secured our future peace.
Enter IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
My King, the Odu has been cast once more,
To seek the path for Orile's future days.
The sign of Ifa-Owori-Meji has appeared.
KING IDOWU
Speak the prophecy, Iyalowo, the speaker is ready to hear.
IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA
"He who brings justice shall find lasting peace."
The curse is lifted, the kingdom free from blight.
But learn this lesson well: Man plots his course,
But destiny doth hold the final sway.
Ignore the Odu at your people's peril.
Honour the truth, and all shall prosper here.
KING IDOWU
The speaker shall remember, every day the speaker rules.
The tragedy of Adewale, the fate of Dipo,
Shall be the foundation of a just new age.
We have been schooled by sorrow and by fate.
Let us go forth and rebuild Orile, strong and true.
The new King rises, a weight of responsibility upon him, and the court bows in solemn respect.
[THE END]
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