The blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan churns out several plays below in the Shakespearen tradition.The Ifá-Shakespearean Concept.
Each play would be a "long play" in five acts, focusing on one or two major Odù and their associated stories, exploring themes such as destiny vs. free will, the consequences of actions (igba iwa - the calabash of existence), leadership, and the interplay between mortals and the Òrìṣà (deities). Characters would speak in iambic pentameter when elevated, and prose when the situation is more common or comedic.
Example Play: The King's Affliction (Based on an Odù narrative)
Characters:
OLUFE: The King of Ifè.
ORÚNMÌLÀ: The Deity of Wisdom and Divination (speaks through his priests).
BÀBÁLÁWO: The Chief Priest of Ifá.
ÈṢÙ: The Messenger Deity, a trickster and enforcer of Ebo (sacrifice).
ỌBÀTÁLÁ: The Deity of Creation and Purity.
ATTENDANTS, GUARDS, TOWNSPEOPLE.
Act I, Scene I
Setting: A clearing within the royal palace grounds in Ancient Ifè. A great storm rages. Thunder and lightning, in the style of King Lear or Macbeth.
(Enter OLUFE, agitated, with his ATTENDANTS.)
OLUFE
The Heavens weep, and with their potent tears
Do wash the face of our distressèd realm!
This tempest shakes the very palace stones,
As 'twere the great Olódùmarè's wrath
Did seek to tear the kingdom from its roots!
What sin, what foul transgression have we wrought
That thus the sky doth rage with such a might?
Go forth, attend the Bábáláwo's call,
Let Ifá speak! Let Ọrúnmìlà's voice
Disclose the cause of this most dire affliction.
ATTENDANT
My Liege, his chain of Opèlè is cast,
Upon the Opón Ifá the signs are read.
He waits without, his visage fraught with gloom,
As one who's seen the future's darkest tomb.
OLUFE
Then bid him enter, haste! For every moment lost
Doth add more weight to Ifè's bitter cost.
(Exit ATTENDANT. Re-enter ATTENDANT with BÀBÁLÁWO, carrying his divination tray and chain. The BÀBÁLÁWO is blind, guided by a youth, in the manner of Teiresias in Greek tragedy which influenced Rotimi's plays).
BÀBÁLÁWO
(His voice is low, measured, and profound)
Hail, King Olúfè, witness of all fate.
The storm without is but a mirrored image
Of the great sickness in thy soul and state.
The deep springs of wisdom have been consulted,
The sacred Odù have reveal'd their truths.
OLUFE
Speak, holy man! Unveil the gods' decree!
What ill confronts our land, our kin, and me?
BÀBÁLÁWO
The Odù speaks of a forgotten bond,
A broken oath, a debt unpaid, long past.
The fault lies in the palace, near the throne,
A consequence that thou didst fail to own.
The signs I read—Òwọ́nrín Ṣọgbè, they say—
"The rat's disease, it thinks it hath departed,
But still it lingers." Thus the gods declare,
Unhealthy habits in the royal air
Prevent the blessings, trap the soul in struggle.
OLUFE
"Unhealthy habits"? "Broken oath"? What riddle
Dost thou present in this, our time of peril?
No debt have been ignored, no oath foresworn.
My reign is just, since first my crown was borne!
BÀBÁLÁWO
The gods demand a sacrifice, Ebo.
A humble heart, the wisdom to let go
Of prideful ways, and face the hidden truth.
Else, ruin waits on age as well as youth.
OLUFE
(To the audience, in a brief soliloquy)
Ebo! Always Ebo! These priests demand
The very heart of what defines the land.
But if the truth be hid in cryptic rhyme,
How can a mortal 'scape the sands of time?
The own strong Orí (destiny) shall guide where one goes!
(To BÀBÁLÁWO)
Your words are wind, good Bábáláwo. Action follows
As kingly wisdom dictates, with swift tact!
The mind is set. The storm shall pass, you'll see.
No sacrifice demands itself!
BÀBÁLÁWO
(Shakes his head sadly)
The gods are not to blame when men are deaf.
To wisdom's call, the soul is but a leaf
Upon the wind of fate, its course unknown.
Ifá has spoken. What is sown is grown.
(OLUFE dismisses him with a wave of his hand and exits in anger. The storm rages on.)
**(Curtain)
Act I, Scene II
Setting: A lonely crossroads at the edge of the palace compound, marked by a rough-hewn stone figure of Èṣù. It is still storming.
(Enter ÈṢÙ, not in a conventional costume, but perhaps a figure that seems to shift and shimmer, with red and black accents, moving with chaotic energy. He observes the area as a TOWNSPERSON rushes past, dropping a small parcel in haste.)
ÈṢÙ
Ho, mortal man! Art thou so quick to flee
The righteous anger of the storm, yet leave
A simple packet at the crossing-place?
(He picks it up, weighs it in his hand, and chuckles.)
A kernel, palm oil, and a humble yam. Small offerings,
But honest ones, for those who choose to give.
The King, proud Olúfè, doth disdain the Ebo,
Calls Bábáláwo's warning "wind" and "riddle."
Alas, poor King, whose ears are stopped with pride!
The path to wisdom oft demands a toll,
A humble payment for a haughty soul.
I am the messenger, the crossroads' keeper.
Communication's spirit, wide awake
When men, in sleep of arrogance, mistake
Effect for cause, and shun the Natural Law.
If he'll not give what's due, then I shall make
The cost more plain, for justice' sake!
(ÈṢÙ disappears into the shadows as the thunder cracks violently. The storm worsens.)
Act II, Scene I
Setting: The King’s inner council chamber. The storm is audible but distant. OLUFE sits on his throne, with his CHIEFS and GUARDS.
OLUFE
The rain abates not, nor the wind's harsh breath.
Our farmers' fields are drowning in the flood;
Our marketplace, a pool of mire and mud.
What say you now, my lords? What counsel comes
From those whose wisdom fills the kingdom's rooms?
FIRST CHIEF
My Liege, the Bábáláwo's words still ring,
Of Odù signs and things past due to bring
Disruption. 'Tis Èṣù who brings the plight,
The great enforcer of Olódùmarè's right.
He asks an Ebo, small yet freely given,
A sign of humble heart, to be forgiven.
OLUFE
(Striking his hand upon the arm of the throne)
Forgiven! We have wrought no conscious ill!
Shall Ifè's King be made to bow his will
To every priestly whisper, every sign
Of cosmic fancy? No, this head is mine
To rule with logic, not with mystic fear!
I ask for action, not for holy tear!
SECOND CHIEF
Great King, the Orishas, they demand respect.
Obàtálá, the source of all our peace and purity,
He governs mind and head. Perhaps the storm
Reflects the chaos in your soul's true form.
His peace is sought through humility and white,
Not kingly force, nor arguments of might.
OLUFE
(Scoffs)
Obàtálá's pure justice? He that once
Did err with palm wine, in creation's throes?
All gods have flaws, if e'en the myths hold true!
My force is needed now, my iron will,
To make the world obey, to make it still!
Summon my Captain of the Guard! Let strength
Be our response to this tempestuous length!
CAPTAIN (Entering)
My Lord, the roads are blocked, the smiths have stopped!
Ogun, the god of iron, is enraged, they say!
Their tools are hot, their hammers will not strike.
No iron works the land, no path is cleared.
They fear his might, the pathfinder is here,
To test our metal, challenge human fear.
OLUFE
A plague on all your gods and all your fears!
My will is iron, stronger than their own!
I'll face this Ogun, if he dare appear!
Go, clear the path with force, break every stone!
(The Chiefs exchange worried glances. OLUFE exits in a rage, followed by the Captain and Guards.)
(Curtain)
Act III, Scene I
Setting: The same crossroads from Act I, Scene II. The scene is one of complete devastation. The storm has passed, leaving uprooted trees, mud, and debris. The path is impassable. A small group of TOWNSPEOPLE are attempting to clear the debris with inadequate wooden tools.
(Enter OLUFE, the CAPTAIN, and GUARDS. OLUFE is weary but still proud.)
OLUFE
This chaos shows nature's displeasure,
Not divine justice! Where are my iron tools?
Where are the smiths as I told you to bring them?
These wooden sticks are for children!
CAPTAIN
My Liege, the smiths refused, citing Ogun's wrath.
They fear their tools would turn against them.
They say Èṣù guards this flooded, broken path,
Demanding sacrifice from all the lands.
We cannot force a man to use a hammer
When fear of iron makes him hesitant.
OLUFE
(To the townsfolk)
You there! Why do you stand and stare?
Clear this passage, for the King's own line!
TOWNSWOMAN
We try, great King, but all our work is useless.
The mud sucks down what we try to tread.
The Ebo was demanded, truth was taught,
But you turned away your royal head.
The crossroads waits; the messenger is eager.
Until the debt is paid, no path is clean.
OLUFE
(A dawning realization, mixed with defiance)
The debt... the Bábáláwo spoke of a debt.
An oath forgotten, a transgression long ago.
My father's time, perhaps? A promise unmet?
A mystery, in riddles yet untold.
(Enter ÈṢÙ, dressed as a simple traveler, perhaps a farmer, observing the scene with a wry smile. He carries the small parcel dropped earlier.)
ÈṢÙ
Good fortune, folk! A sorry state is here.
Perhaps your King could benefit from some cheer,
A wisdom greater than his mighty hand.
OLUFE
(Turning to ÈṢÙ, dismissively)
Be gone, you vagrant! We have work to do,
No time for beggars, nor their simple view.
ÈṢÙ
(Approaching OLUFE, holding out the parcel)
No beggar, sire, but one who knows the way.
The path is blocked, the gods demand their pay.
I found this Ebo, lost upon the ground,
A simple gift, where true humility is found.
(He indicates the contents: palm oil, kernels, yam.)
A humble offering for the crossing god,
Demanding little, yet respecting law.
You in your pride reject the unseen truth,
That power lies in yielding, even in youth.
OLUFE
(Snatching the parcel, angered by the man's familiarity)
Impudence! Your life is forfeit for this cheek!
A common farmer dares to speak
To Ifè's sovereign! Guards, remove this pest!
(The GUARDS move to seize ÈṢÙ. ÈṢÙ merely smiles and vanishes in a puff of smoke, leaving the parcel in OLUFE’s hand.)
CAPTAIN
By Ogun's might! The messenger himself!
We touch the spirit realm, not mortal pelf!
(OLUFE stares at the spot where ÈṢÙ was, then looks at the simple offering in his hand. The reality of his situation begins to sink in.)
OLUFE
(To the audience, in a moment of true introspection)
He vanishes as mist before the sun.
A god in farmer's guise, his message done.
A humble Ebo holds more power, it seems,
Than all the iron forged by humankind.
My pride has caused this ruin, made me blind.
The Bábáláwo spoke the truth, kind man.
The error lies not in the stars, but in the man.
(He looks at the muddy, impassable path and back at the small parcel.)
(Curtain).
Act IV, Scene I
Setting: The King’s council chamber, several days later. The storm has ceased. OLUFE is alone, looking weary and humbled. His attire is simpler, white, reflecting a change in heart, associated with Ọbàtálá.
(Enter BÀBÁLÁWO, guided by the youth.)
OLUFE
(Rising to greet the priest with respect)
Good Bábáláwo, you are welcome here.
My ears are open now, my vision clear.
The prideful film has fallen from my eyes;
I see the truth in all your prophecies.
The messenger, Èṣù, appeared in form,
A farmer, who dissolved amidst the storm,
Leaving a simple gift I had despised.
I am prepared to offer Ebo, wise man.
To cleanse the land, restore the proper plan.
What must be done?
BÀBÁLÁWO
The Odù, when consulted yet again,
Revealed the source of all this mortal pain.
The forgotten debt was to Ọbàtálá, the Weaver of Forms.
A sacred grove, promised to his name,
Was cleared by your late father, in his quest for palace land and fame.
A simple oversight, a broken vow,
Which asks its payment in the here and now.
The land remembers, and the gods require
A cleansing heart, a spirit purged by fire.
OLUFE
(Sighs deeply, acknowledging the ancestral burden)
My father's fault becomes my heavy cross.
To right this wrong, whatever be the loss.
The grove shall be restored, and more besides.
A shrine built high, where purity resides.
But tell me, priest, what sacrifice is needed
To satisfy the gods, whose calls I’ve heeded?
BÀBÁLÁWO
A humble offering, not of wealth, nor gold,
But simple things, as Èṣù did behold.
White cloth, kola nuts, the things of peace and mind.
And crucially, a promise, firm to bind:
That pride shall yield to wisdom's gentle sway,
And Ifá's word guides Ifè’s future way.
The greatest Ebo that the gods desire
Is not the beast for altar and for fire,
But the stubborn self that learns its place below
The grand design, where all things ebb and flow.
OLUFE
Then it is done. My self I sacrifice,
Upon the altar of eternal life.
This King shall learn to listen, not command,
And peace shall flow once more upon our land.
(OLUFE gestures for his attendants. He prepares the simple items. The atmosphere is calm and hopeful.)
Act V, Scene I
Setting: The newly dedicated shrine of Ọbàtálá at the former crossroads. It is bright, clean, and peaceful. The path is now clear and passable. TOWNSPEOPLE mingle happily.
(Enter OLUFE, BÀBÁLÁWO, CHIEFS, and ATTENDANTS. OLUFE is now fully in white garments, a picture of peace and restored leadership.)
OLUFE
The sun doth shine upon our Ifè once more!
The floods recede, the fields begin to green.
The storm is past, a memory of war,
A peaceful kingdom, a tranquility serene.
By heeding wisdom, by the Ebo made,
The debt is settled, the imbalance paid.
Let every ruler learn from this day's trial:
That strength in silence, patience, and denial
Of haughty pride, doth build a lasting state.
We are but servants of a greater fate.
Let Ọrúnmìlà's wisdom guide each path,
And save us from Olódùmarè's wrath.
(Enter ÈṢÙ in his original shifting, shimmering attire, but less menacingly now, leaning against a post, a knowing look on his face. He is unnoticed by most, save the BÀBÁLÁWO who smiles slightly.)
ÈṢÙ
(To the audience, in a final monologue)
And so the King did learn what must be learned.
The wheel of fortune, how it turns and turns!
I am but messenger, the test, the trial,
Ensuring balance, punishing denial.
The Law is kept, the Ebo now is done,
The kingdom’s wisdom has been newly won.
Remember this, ye mortals, proud and strong:
To heed the signs, where true peace doth belong.
All's well that ends well, in the cosmic play,
Until the next time pride doth hold its sway!
(He winks at the audience.)
(OLUFE joins the celebration with his people. The BÀBÁLÁWO nods sagely.)
**(The End of The King's Affliction)
The Hunter's Folly (Based on an Odù narrative about destiny and choice)
OGO: A proud, skilled hunter, famed throughout the land.
IYÁGBÀ: Ogo's wise, elderly mother.
BÀBÁLÁWO: The Chief Priest.
OGUN: The Deity of Iron, War, and the Hunt.
ÒṢÓṢÌ: The Deity of the Hunt and Justice.
VILLAGERS, HUNTERS.
Act I, Scene I
Setting: A vibrant village square in the early morning light. Hunting implements are displayed. The mood is lively, as Ogo prepares for a major hunt.
(Enter OGO, boasting, surrounded by VILLAGERS and fellow HUNTERS.)
OGO
The forest calls! The beasts of silent tread
Shall learn to fear the arrow from my bow!
No boar so great, no leopard e'er so dread,
That 'scapes the fate my steady hands bestow!
My Oṣóṣì's blessings ride upon my aim,
Ogun's own iron sings my noble name!
Today, I hunt the mighty elephant,
Whose ivory tusks shall serve my king's intent!
FIRST HUNTER
Brave words, good Ogo! But the giant beast
Doth hold within its soul a mighty force.
Its spirit's strength is not the usual feast;
The elders warn against this headstrong course.
(Enter IYÁGBÀ, Ogo's mother, her face lined with worry.)
IYÁGBÀ
My son, my son! Thy pride doth swell thy chest,
But listen to a mother's gentle plea.
Before this quest, this perilous, bold test,
Consult the Oracle, I beg of thee!
Ifá must speak, his wisdom we must seek,
Lest destiny turn swiftly and grow weak.
OGO
(Scoffing, but with a touch of affection)
Peace, mother, peace! Thy fears do cloud thy mind.
My Orí (destiny) is strong, my fate is truly set.
What revelation can the priests e'er find
That I, Ogo, the great hunter, have not met?
The path is clear, my skill is all I need.
A man’s own will dictates his path, indeed!
IYÁGBÀ
A man's own will is strong, but cosmic law
Doth govern all beneath the sun and moon.
To slight the gods invites a fatal flaw.
Go see the priest, I beg thee, and that soon!
OGO
(His patience thinning)
I’ll go to please thee, mother, lest thou weep.
But know the outcome’s fixed, my promise keep:
I shall return with tusks of massive size!
My fame shall reach the very starry skies!
(Ogo exits with his hunters, confidently. IYÁGBÀ watches them go, shaking her head sadly.)
(Curtain)
Act I, Scene II
Setting: The Bábáláwo’s sacred chamber. The Bábáláwo sits before his divination tray (Opón Ifá).
(Enter OGO, impatient, followed by his Mother.)
OGO
Good Priest, my mother bids me seek thy aid,
A simple reading, ere the sun is high.
For elephant hunt, a promise has been made.
BÀBÁLÁWO
(Casting his Opèle chain)
The chain doth speak, the symbols mark the wood.
The Odù revealed, it speaks a solemn truth.
(He reads the signs carefully, his brow furrowed.)
Ogbè Ọ̀yẹ̀kú, a sign of great import:
"One’s destiny is cast, but choice is key;
To heed advice, or suffer destiny's sport."
The message for the hunter, clear to see:
You have a powerful, strong Orí, great pride,
But peril waits where ego doth reside.
OGO
(Impatient)
Peril? What peril? Name the beast I face!
I fear no creature in this mortal place!
BÀBÁLÁWO
The spirits warn against this urgent quest.
An unseen force doth guard the elephant's trail.
Ọ̀ṣóṣì favors you, that is confessed,
But Ogun’s metal tools are set to fail.
The Ebo demanded is humility:
Characters:
Act II, Scene II
Setting: The edge of the forest, near the village. IYÁGBÀ is anxiously waiting with several VILLAGERS.
(Enter the HUNTERS who went with Ogo, disheveled and frightened. They are without Ogo.)
IYÁGBÀ
(Rushing forward, her voice trembling)
Where is my son? Where is the mighty Ogo?
Speak, cowards! Why do you flee the hunt so?
My son, my son! Tell me he yet lives!
FIRST HUNTER
(Hanging his head)
Oh, aged mother, fate such tidings gives
That break the heart. We saw the hand of gods!
His pride defied all warnings, mocked all odds.
The beast was shadowed by a spirit's force;
Ogun himself did turn aside our course!
The iron melted, arrows ceased to fly;
We fled in fear, beneath the raging sky.
We saw the charge... we think that he is dead.
His arrogant pride did cost his foolish head.
IYÁGBÀ
(Crying out in despair, falling to her knees)
Oh, cursed pride! Oh, foolish, headstrong boy!
The very thing that brought thy parents joy,
Thy strength, thy will, thy boastful, mighty stride,
Did lead thee where the fatal shadows hide!
Ifá had warned, the Ebo was foretold!
A life is lost, a future uncontrolled.
(The villagers gather around her, mourning. The BÀBÁLÁWO enters slowly, hearing the commotion.)
BÀBÁLÁWO
The cosmic scales demand their balance due.
A destiny ignored, a path untrue
To wisdom’s law. The hunter sought renown,
But found a fall, beneath the elephant’s crown.
The gods are just, though mortals find it stern,
The lessons Ifá teaches, we must learn.
(The sound of a single, mournful horn can be heard in the distance.)
(Curtain)
Act III, Scene I
Setting: A quiet part of the deep forest, after the encounter. The forest is peaceful now. OGO lies on the ground, wounded but miraculously alive, tended by a solitary figure who is Obàtálá, the serene creator deity, disguised as a gentle old healer in white robes. Ogo is weak and humbled.
OBÀTÁLÁ
(Dabbing Ogo's wounds with soothing herbs)
Thy fever breaks, the raging in thy blood
Doth quiet now. A gentle, healing flood
Of peace and calm doth enter in thy soul.
Thy body mends, thy spirit can be whole.
OGO
(Waking slowly, confused)
Where am I? The beast? The hunt? My men?
Am I in death’s realm, or the world of men?
My wounds are soothed, my pain doth fade away.
OBÀTÁLÁ
Thou art alive, spared by the gods this day.
They saw thy pride, they saw thy arrogance,
But saw a spark of worth, a second chance.
Ọbàtálá sends this simple, quiet peace,
To bid thy heart from boastful ways release.
The elephant lives on, a kingly beast,
While thou art spared, a penitent, at least.
OGO
(Humbled, weeping softly)
A second chance? A mercy undeserved!
I mocked the priest, the gods, whom I had served
With metal pride, not with a humble mind.
Oh, what a fool I was, both deaf and blind!
My mother’s words, the Bábáláwo’s plea,
All tossed aside in foolish vanity!
I swear henceforth, by all the gods above,
To live with wisdom, gratitude, and love.
My strength I’ll use to build, and not to break,
For Ifá’s truth, for all humanity's sake.
OBÀTÁLÁ
(Smiling gently)
Then rise, good Ogo. Thy lesson has been learned.
A life of purpose, newly earned.
(Ogo struggles to his feet, a changed man. Obàtálá gently places a white cloth on his shoulder and vanishes silently.)
Act III, Scene II (Finale)
Setting: The village square, restored to calm. The Bábáláwo and IYÁGBÀ are speaking quietly.
(Enter OGO, walking slowly and deliberately, dressed in white, holding a simple corn offering.)
IYÁGBÀ
(Seeing him, gasps in joy and rushes to embrace him)
My son! My Ogo! Thou art spared indeed!
Thy life restored, like water to a seed!
OGO
(Embracing her, his voice soft and true)
Mother, I've learned the lesson, hard and fast.
My old proud self is buried in the past.
(He turns to the Bábáláwo and bows low, touching his forehead to the ground in respect.)
Great Priest of Ifá, forgive my willful slight.
Thy wisdom showed the path, the true guiding light.
I offer now the Ebo, as demanded then.
My heart is humble, I am born again.
(He places the corn and wine offerings before the shrine of Ọrúnmìlà in the square.)
BÀBÁLÁWO
(Smiling, placing a hand on Ogo's shoulder)
The gods accept the offering of the heart.
In the great tapestry, you play your part.
The hunter’s folly ends, the wise man grows.
Thus harmony returns, as Ifá shows.
(The villagers cheer. Ogo is restored, but changed forever.)
(The End of The Hunter's Folly)
The storm rages on.)
**(Curtain)
Act I, Scene II
Setting: A lonely crossroads at the edge of the palace compound, marked by a rough-hewn stone figure of Èṣù. It is still storming.
(Enter ÈṢÙ, not in a conventional costume, but perhaps a figure that seems to shift and shimmer, with red and black accents, moving with chaotic energy. He observes the area as a TOWNSPERSON rushes past, dropping a small parcel in haste.)
ÈṢÙ
Ho, mortal man! Art thou so quick to flee
The righteous anger of the storm, yet leave
A simple packet at the crossing-place?
(He picks it up, weighs it in his hand, and chuckles.)
A kernel, palm oil, and a humble yam. Small offerings,
But honest ones, for those who choose to give.
The King, proud Olúfè, doth disdain the
If he'll not give what's due, then I shall make
The cost more plain, for justice' sake!
(ÈṢÙ disappears into the shadows as the thunder cracks violently. The storm worsens.)
Act II, Scene I
Setting: The King’s inner council chamber. The storm is audible but distant. OLUFE sits on his throne, with his CHIEFS and GUARDS.
OLUFE
The rain abates not, nor the wind's harsh breath.
Our farmers' fields are drowning in the flood;
Our marketplace, a pool of mire and mud.
What say you now, my lords? What counsel comes
From those whose wisdom fills the kingdom's rooms?
FIRST CHIEF
My Liege, the Bábáláwo's words still ring,
Of Odù signs and things past due to bring
Disruption. 'Tis Èṣù who brings the plight,
The great enforcer of Olódùmarè's right.
He asks an Ebo, small yet freely given,
A sign of humble heart, to be forgiven.
OLUFE
(Striking his hand upon the arm of the throne)
Forgiven! We have wrought no conscious ill!
Shall Ifè's King be made to bow his will
To every priestly whisper, every sign
Of cosmic fancy? No, this head is mine
To rule with logic, not with mystic fear!
I ask for action, not for holy tear!
SECOND CHIEF
Great King, the Orishas, they demand respect.
Obàtálá, the source of all our peace and purity,
He governs mind and head. Perhaps the storm
Reflects the chaos in your soul's true form.
His peace is sought through humility and white,
Not kingly force, nor arguments of might.
OLUFE
(Scoffs)
Obàtálá's pure justice? He that once
Did err with palm wine, in creation's throes?
All gods have flaws, if e'en the myths hold true!
My force is needed now, my iron will,
To make the world obey, to make it still!
Summon my Captain of the Guard! Let strength
Be our response to this tempestuous length!
CAPTAIN (Entering)
My Lord, the roads are blocked, the smiths have stopped!
Ogun, the god of iron, is enraged, they say!
Their tools are hot, their hammers will not strike.
No iron works the land, no path is cleared.
They fear his might, the pathfinder is here,
To test our metal, challenge human fear.
OLUFE
A plague on all your gods and all your fears!
My will is iron, stronger than their own!
I'll face this Ogun, if he dare appear!
Go, clear the path with force, break every stone!
(The Chiefs exchange worried glances. OLUFE exits in a rage, followed by the Captain and Guards.)
(Curtain)
Act III, Scene I
Setting: The same crossroads from Act I, Scene II. The scene is one of complete devastation. The storm has passed, leaving uprooted trees, mud, and debris. The path is impassable. A small group of TOWNSPEOPLE are attempting to clear the debris with inadequate wooden tools.
(Enter OLUFE, the CAPTAIN, and GUARDS. OLUFE is weary but still proud.)
OLUFE
This chaos shows nature's displeasure,
Not divine justice! Where are my iron tools?
Where are the smiths as I told you to bring them?
These wooden sticks are for children!
CAPTAIN
My Liege, the smiths refused, citing Ogun's wrath.
They fear their tools would turn against them.
The mud sucks down what his situation begins to sink in.)
OLUFE
(To the audience, in a moment of true introspection)
He vanishes as mist before the sun.
A god in farmer's guise, his message done.
A humble Ebo holds more power, it seems,
Than all the iron forged by humankind.
My pride has caused this ruin, made me blind.
The Bábáláwo spoke the truth, kind man.
The error lies not in the stars, but in the man.
(He looks at the muddy, impassable path and back at the small parcel.)
(Curtain)
Act IV, Scene I
Setting: The King’s council chamber, several days later. The storm has ceased. OLUFE is alone, looking weary and humbled. His attire is simpler, white, reflecting a change in heart, associated with Ọbàtálá.
(Enter BÀBÁLÁWO, guided by the youth.)
OLUFE
(Rising to greet the priest with respect)
Good Bábáláwo, you are welcome here.
My ears are open now, my vision clear.
The prideful film has fallen from my eyes;
I see the truth in all your prophecies.
The messenger, Èṣù, appeared in form,
A farmer, who dissolved amidst the storm,
Leaving a simple gift I had despised.
I am prepared to offer Ebo, wise man.
To cleanse the land, restore the proper plan.
What must be done?
BÀBÁLÁWO
The Odù, when consulted yet again,
Revealed the source of all this mortal pain.
The forgotten debt was to Ọbàtálá, the Weaver of Forms.
A sacred grove, promised to his name,
Was cleared by your late father, in his quest for palace land and fame.
A simple oversight, a broken vow,
Which asks its payment in the here and now.
The land remembers, and the gods require
A cleansing heart, a spirit purged by fire.
OLUFE
(Sighs deeply, acknowledging the ancestral burden)
My father's fault becomes my heavy cross.
To right this wrong, whatever be the loss.
The grove shall be restored, and more besides.
A shrine built high, where purity resides.
But tell me, priest, what sacrifice is needed
To satisfy the gods, whose calls I’ve heeded?
BÀBÁLÁWO
A humble offering, not of wealth, nor gold,
But simple things, as Èṣù did behold.
White cloth, kola nuts, the things of peace and mind.
And crucially, a promi
The Hunter's Folly (Based on an Odù narrative about destiny and choice)
Characters:
OGO: A proud, skilled hunter, famed throughout the land.
IYÁGBÀ: Ogo's wise, elderly mother.
BÀBÁLÁWO: The Chief Priest.
OGUN: The Deity of Iron, War, and the Hunt.
ÒṢÓṢÌ: The Deity of the Hunt and Justice.
VILLAGERS, HUNTERS.
Act I, Scene I
Setting: A vibrant village square in the early morning light. Hunting implements are displayed. The mood is lively, as Ogo prepares for a major hunt.
(Enter OGO, boasting, surrounded by VILLAGERS and fellow HUNTERS.)
OGO
The forest calls! The beasts of silent tread
Shall learn to fear the arrow from my bow!
No boar so great, no leopard e'er so dread,
That 'scapes the fate my steady hands bestow!
My Oṣóṣì's blessings ride upon my aim,
Ogun's own iron sings my noble name!
Today, I hunt the mighty elephant,
Whose ivory tusks shall serve my king's intent!
FIRST HUNTER
Brave words, good Ogo! But the giant beast
Doth hold within its soul a mighty force.
Its spirit's strength is not the usual feast;
The elders warn against this headstrong course.
(Enter IYÁGBÀ, Ogo's mother, her face lined with worry.)
IYÁGBÀ
My son, my son! Thy pride doth swell thy chest,
But listen to a mother's gentle plea.
Before this quest, this perilous, bold test,
Consult the Oracle, I beg of thee!
Ifá must speak, his wisdom we must seek,
Lest destiny turn swiftly and grow weak.
OGO
(Scoffing, but with a touch of affection)
Peace, mother, peace! Thy fears do cloud thy mind.
My Orí (destiny) is strong, my fate is truly set.
What revelation can the priests e'er find
That I, Ogo, the great hunter, have not met?
The path is clear, my skill is all I need.
A man’s own will dictates his path, indeed!
IYÁGBÀ
A man's own will is strong, but cosmic law
Doth govern all beneath the sun and moon.
To slight the gods invites a fatal flaw.
Go see the priest, I beg thee, and that soon!
OGO
(His patience thinning)
I’ll go to please thee, mother, lest thou weep.
But know the outcome’s fixed, my promise keep:
I shall return with tusks of massive size!
My fame shall reach the very starry skies!
(Ogo exits with his hunters, confidently. IYÁGBÀ watches them go, shaking her head sadly.)
(Curtain)
Act I, Scene II
Setting: The Bábáláwo’s sacred chamber. The Bábáláwo sits before his divination tray (Opón Ifá).
(Enter OGO, impatient, followed by his Mother.)
OGO
Good Priest, my mother bids me seek thy aid,
A simple reading, ere the sun is high.
For elephant hunt, a promise has been made.
BÀBÁLÁWO
(Casting his Opèle chain)
The chain doth speak, the symbols mark the wood.
The Odù revealed, it speaks a solemn truth.
(He reads the signs carefully, his brow furrowed.)
Ogbè Ọ̀yẹ̀kú, a sign of great import:
"One’s destiny is cast, but choice is key;
To heed advice, or suffer destiny's sport."
The message for the hunter, clear to see:
You have a powerful, strong Orí, great pride,
But peril waits where ego doth reside.
OGO
(Impatient)
Peril? What peril? Name the beast I face!
I fear no creature in this mortal place!
BÀBÁLÁWO
The spirits warn against this urgent quest.
An unseen force doth guard the elephant's trail.
Ọ̀ṣóṣì favors you, that is confessed,
But Ogun’s metal tools are set to fail.
Here is the fourth play in the series, The Prince's Destiny, a historical tragedy inspired by narratives within Èjì Ogbè and related Odù, exploring themes of leadership, destiny, humility, and the importance of heeding spiritual guidance, even when seemingly disadvantaged.
Example Play: The Prince's Destiny (Based on Èjì Ogbè narratives)
Characters:
OLOGUN: A physically strong but arrogant Prince.
ADEWALE: The youngest Prince, physically slight, but wise and humble.
KING ADÉOYÈ: The aging King of Ilé-Ifè.
BÀBÁLÁWO: The Chief Priest.
ORÚNMÌLÀ: The Deity of Wisdom (unseen voice/presence).
ÈṢÙ: The Messenger Deity.
COURTIERS, GUARDS, TOWNSPEOPLE.
Act I, Scene I
Setting: The royal court of Ilé-Ifè. The King sits on his throne, looking old and concerned about succession. The two Princes are present; Ologun is boisterous, Adewale is quiet.
KING ADÉOYÈ
The weight of kingship presses on my brow.
My time is short, succession needed now.
My sons, the realm requires a steady hand,
A leader wise, to govern all the land.
Ologun, strong in arm, a warrior's might,
Adewale, gentle, walking in the light
Of learning. Which of you shall take the crown?
My heart is torn, my kingdom brought to frown.
OLOGUN
(Stepping forward with great confidence)
My father, doubt not where the strength resides!
The throne demands a force that naught abides
But might and power! The people fear the weak.
My arm is iron, battles I shall seek
And conquer all who dare defy the crown!
My name Ologun (Warrior) brings renown!
Adewale, he is slight, a scholar's boy,
Unfit for war, a fragile, simple toy!
ADEWALE
(Quietly, bowing low to his father)
My brother speaks of sinew, bone, and might,
But wisdom, father, is the truer light.
A king must listen, seek the gods' decree,
And govern with a soul that's truly free
From pride and haste. I lack his mighty arm,
But seek the knowledge that prevents all harm.
The Bábáláwo's words are my true sword.
KING ADÉOYÈ
Enough! This strife doth pain my weary heart.
Go, seek the Bábáláwo, play your part
In divination! Let Ifá's voice decide!
Whom Ọrúnmìlà favors shall preside!
(The Princes agree and exit in different directions. The King looks concerned.)
(Curtain)
Act I, Scene II
Setting: The Bábáláwo's sacred chamber.
(Enter OLOGUN, with arrogance.)
OLOGUN
Diviner! Quickly, cast thy sacred chain!
My destiny is clear, my future reign
Is certain! I need no cryptic word.
BÀBÁLÁWO
(Casting the chain, the Odù falls, revealing warnings of arrogance and ignoring sacrifice)
The Odù speaks of power, yet of fall,
Of pride that builds a high, but empty wall.
The gods demand humility and grace,
Else swift misfortune mars thy future face.
Offer Ebo, a simple cloth, a hen,
And seek the path of peace, my child of men.
OLOGUN
(Laughs in his face, throwing a small bag of coins at him)
Thy words are empty! Fear is all you teach!
My power is all the Ebo I beseech!
Keep thy hen and cloth, thy warnings I disdain!
My might alone ensures my glorious reign!
(Ologun storms out. Shortly after, enter ADEWALE, humble and respectful, carrying simple items.)
ADEWALE
Good Priest, my heart is open to the word.
My brother scoffs, his pride the only lord.
What does Ifá say of this humble one?
BÀBÁLÁWO
(Casting the Opèle again, the same foundational Odù, Èjì Ogbè, appears but in a different configuration/interpretation)
Èjì Ogbè speaks of light and destiny's guide,
Of one who seems the least, but holds inside
The power to lead, to govern, to decide.
The path is clear, if thou dost not deny
The sacrifice. The gods demand a cow,
Sixteen cowrie shells, a change of cloth, I vow.
A costly thing, I know, for one so poor.
ADEWALE
A cow! My means are low, my wealth is slight.
How can I meet such a demanding rite?
BÀBÁLÁWO
The gods know thy true heart, thy humble soul.
Do what you can, to make thy spirit whole.
The will to sacrifice is all that's asked.
ADEWALE
I cannot find a cow, my purse is dry,
But I can find the head of one, nearby!
A token of my will, my humble plea.
(Adewale offers the head of a cow, the cowries, and cloth. The Bábáláwo accepts them with reverence.)
BÀBÁLÁWO
Thy Ebo is accepted. Go thy way.
Upon the throne you shall preside one day.
Humility shall raise you to the sky,
Where prideful strength doth wither and then die.
(Curtain)
Act II, Scene I
Setting: The main square where the two princes are to present themselves for the King's final decision. A large crowd is gathered.
(Enter the KING, his GUARDS, OLOGUN (resplendent in war attire), ADEWALE (simply dressed in new, plain cloth), and the TOWNSPEOPLE.)
KING ADÉOYÈ
My people, see my sons! One strong and bold,
The other gentle, true stories untold.
Ifá has spoken, through the Bábáláwo’s voice.
OLOGUN
(Pushing forward, flexing his muscles)
The choice is obvious! My strength is great!
The people need my power to seal their fate!
ADEWALE
(Standing back, calm)
The power lies not in the muscle's swell,
But in the wisdom of the truth to tell.
My humble offering the gods did take.
(Enter ÈṢÙ, disguised as a commoner, causing a disturbance among the guards.)
ÈṢÙ
A fire! A fire in the western gate!
The market burns! A matter of the state!
(Chaos erupts. The guards rush off. Ologun, focused on his own glory, stands still, unwilling to get his fine clothes dirty or miss his moment.)
OLOGUN
Let others go! I am the King to be!
Such trivial fires are beneath my dignity!
ADEWALE
(To the audience, in a brief aside)
My destiny calls, to action and to sense!
A King must act, no time for recompense!
(To the people)
Follow me! We quench the flame, we save the day!
A leader leads, upon the dusty way!
(Adewale leads the people and remaining guards off to fight the fire. Ologun stands alone, confused and angry.)
ÈṢÙ
(To the audience, revealing his true form for a second, then disappearing)
He chose the throne, not duty, to his shame.
His pride did seal his weak and empty name.
(Curtain)
Act II, Scene II (Finale)
Setting: The King’s court, later that day. The fire is out. The people return, praising Adewale. Ologun is nowhere to be seen, having slunk away in disgrace.
FIRST TOWNSMAN
Adewale saved the day! His action swift!
He risked his life, a true and noble gift!
SECOND TOWNSMAN
The fire quenched, the people safe and sound!
A worthy King upon this hallowed ground!
(Enter KING ADÉOYÈ, who has heard the news. He looks at his disgraced, absent son's empty spot, then at Adewale, who enters humbly in his now dirty clothes.)
KING ADÉOYÈ
My people, see my sons! One strong and bold,
The other gentle, true stories untold.
Ifá has spoken, through the Bábáláwo’s voice.
OLOGUN
(Pushing forward, flexing his muscles)
The choice is obvious! My strength is great!
The people need my power to seal their fate!
ADEWALE
(Standing back, calm)
The power lies not in the muscle's swell,
But in the wisdom of the truth to tell.
My humble offering the gods did take.
(Enter ÈṢÙ, disguised as a commoner, causing a disturbance among the guards.)
ÈṢÙ
A fire! A fire in the western gate!
The market burns! A matter of the state!
(Chaos erupts. The guards rush off. Ologun, focused on his own glory, stands still, unwilling to get his fine clothes dirty or miss his moment.)
OLOGUN
Let others go! I am the King to be!
Such trivial fires are beneath my dignity!
ADEWALE
(To the audience, in a brief aside)
My destiny calls, to action and to sense!
A King must act, no time for recompense!
(To the people)
Follow me! We quench the flame, we save the day!
A leader leads, upon the dusty way!
(Adewale leads the people and remaining guards off to fight the fire. Ologun stands alone, confused and angry.)
ÈṢÙ
(To the audience, revealing his true form for a second, then disappearing)
He chose the throne, not duty, to his shame.
His pride did seal his weak and empty name.
(Curtain)
Act II, Scene II (Finale)
Setting: The King’s court, later that day. The fire is out. The people return, praising Adewale. Ologun is nowhere to be seen, having slunk away in disgrace.
FIRST TOWNSMAN
Adewale saved the day! His action swift!
He risked his life, a true and noble gift!
SECOND TOWNSMAN
The fire quenched, the people safe and sound!
A worthy King upon this hallowed ground!
(Enter KING ADÉOYÈ, who has heard the news. He looks at his disgraced, absent son's empty spot, then at Adewale, who enters humbly in his now dirty clothes.)
KING ADÉOYÈ
My son Adewale, thou hast proved thy worth.
Not by thy strength, but by thy soul's true birth.
Thou art the King, by Ifá's clear design!
Thy humble actions made the wisdom shine!
(He places the crown upon Adewale's head. The people cheer. Adewale kneels and thanks the gods. Ogun's strength was useless without Oṣóṣì's guidance/Ifá's wisdom, as per the hunter play's theme.)
(The End of The Prince's Destiny)
