Wale and the Little Moonlight

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

On the day of the ceremony and wrestling contest at Ojola, Ogunta was heavy with great tension. The day was sunny as usual. But later it appeared that the day did not last long because the wind was blowing too fast and the dusk soon approached. Everyone in Ogunta became a little worried about what might have happened to Wale and the seventy-one men on their way or what might have happened to them in Ojola. Could Zubola have defeated Wale and decided to take them as slaves? They thought and worried. The most worrisome thing was that the night lasted longer than usual. It was a strange happening and terrifying experience even as the moonlight shone brighter than ever. This event increased the anxiety of the people of Ogunta.

It was exactly the eighth day after the great long night ended. Yet no sign of Wale and his entourage was seen or felt. Even the chief priest had complained several times that his vision was blury, hence he could not really interpret what he saw. And that the gods seemed to be silent about it and chose to speak nothing of it. Oba’s worry became intense at the chief priest’s report. Folusho began to weep for her son, Akin was troubled about the fate of Ogunta, and many people began to lose hope in everything. Somehow, Kehinde had an undying faith in his son’s ability. So when it seemed like the whole of Ogunta was mourning in uncertainty, Kehinde and his bosom friend, Kolawale checked their emotions and decided to keep hope alive.

“It’s the eighth day since after the supposed day of the wrestling match, yet no sign of my son…No sign of Wale”. Folusho lamented. “How many days does it take to journey from Ojola to Ogunta?” She queried as she wept bitterly.

“Woman, the day has not ended. As a matter of fact, the day is still young. It is afternoon still, so put yourself together and render prayers to the gods to bring him back to us before the nightfall”, Kehinde soothed her wife.

Kehinde was sitting in his usual position under the mango tree in his compound with Kolawale having a moment of sober reflection about Wale and Ojola contest, and everything when Folusho brought them palm wine and made her worries known with weeping. The men did not even act as though they saw the jar of palm wine as they were lost in deep thinking—perhaps, meditation. As Folusho turned to leave, something held her back, and the same thing brought the men back from their deep thoughts.

“Oouuuu! Ooouuuuu!! Ouuuuu!!!” Noise came from a distance. It was a cry of victory. “They are back! Wale and the warriors are back!!” The shouting became clearer.

Folusho heard, Kehinde heard it, Kolawale also heard it. But they were not quite sure of what they heard. Could it be their ears were playing tricks on them? No, of course! Immediately, people began to emerge from their houses and ran towards the great path that led to the way to Ojola shouting, screaming in jubilation, even though they themselves were not even sure that Wale had had the anticipated victory. Folusho, Kehinde, and Kolawale joined the jubilant crowd.

Victory was Wale’s; it was made clear to them as Wale and others walked triumphantly in a procession through the cheering crowd which formed two long lines on each side while creating a pathway in the middle through which Wale and the warriors walked. The heavy necklace of a thousand cowries that Wale wore around his neck was the trophy of the champion—the greatest wrestler and warrior in Oduduwaland. In addition, the few young maidens who came with them were instantly understood as the prize for victory. Since, Wale found no pleasure in any of the daughters of The Great Oba, the young maidens had to accompany him to Ogunta to serve him or act as his concubines. It was an offer he must not reject even though he had no need for them. Perhaps, they would serve at the Oba’s palace. This was Wale’s thought. There were also strange faces of young able-bodied men who also accompanied them. These men were also part of the prize who would serve Wale and Ogunta. It was a glorious return for Wale and his entourage, and a return glory for Ogunta. The shouting and jubilation became very thick at the sight of all of this.

“He has brought back the glory of Ogunta”, a voice yelled out from the crowd.”

No one was supposed to touch Wale or any of the people with him until they got to the Oba’s palace where the Oba, the chief priest, and other elders would receive them with the royal blessing after which the chief priest would cleanse them and offer prayers for them before declaring them approachable and touchable.

“My son, you are welcome! The gods have favoured us with you”. Folusho muttered as Wale’s eyes met hers with the tears of joy which had welled up in them.

Wale said nothing but kept his gaze on her and on his father who stood together in awe watching him walk in the grandeur of a victor. Wale could only smile mildly at them. And as they moved, all that was on his mind was the flashback of how he defeated Zubola in Ojola. He recollected the part that they had fought through the evening into the night when he had spoken to the moon in his heart for it to stand still. And the moon indeed stood still and lasted the night two times longer than the usual, while his strength was reborn in every beam of the moonlight. Then, he became as strong as a lion. But to his greatest surprise, Zubola was too strong to be thrown so easily on the ground, and he equally fought like a lion with a renewed strength—though he defeated him at last in the same manner he (Zubola) had defeated Akin some years back, and brought untold hardship and shame to his people. This story of his must be told to his people. In all, Wale knew that no one but himself, in Ogunta or the whole of Oduduwaland would have defeated Zubola. Wale knew his name would be sung on everyone’s lips from this day the later days and his story would be passed down from generations to generations.

As the kept walking on, the unexpected happened. Without any sign, or changes in the sky, some drops of rain began to fall and then it rained moderately. The raining did not stop the cheering; the jubilation increased. It became the celebration of victory and the rain. Wale was instantly celebrated again after many years as the bringer of the rains—both the day and the night rains.