Wale and the Little Moonlight

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was getting to that period that Ogunta used to celebrate their feast of harvest and things did not get any better in the land. The memories of the ceremony were soon becoming a myth as the people envisioned that generations unborn might never believe the story and the exploits of their fathers. People were dying and things were becoming worse. It was about that time that Ojola normally celebrated their own harvest too, and the wrestling contest was opened for any and everyone who wished to participate within Oduduwaland and even beyond. Just as it had been for almost a period of six years, all the wrestlers from other kingdoms had developed cold feet and chicken minds. No fighter came out to challenge Zubola. Some elements in Oduduwaland had started growing suspicious of Ojola and Zubola using a spell to achieve their feats and sustain their exploits. But magic was a rare craft during this period. Only a few with evil intents could dare to tread that path, and it was a risky venture; it wasn't to even conceived to be used in contests such as the wrestling. No one could however prove that Ojola had engaged in this craft or not. The fear of Ojola and Zubola then grew stronger by each passing day. 

Surprisingly, Wale had walked into the Oba's palace this fateful evening and made his intentions known to the Oba. “I am fighting Zubola this time; I am challenging him to a wrestling contest in the four market days when their festival will hold”, he said with his face shining with fury and his eyes red with bravery. “If no one will fight, if no one will save Ogunta, then it is my time to do so”.

The Oba was agape at the confidence and bravery Wale exuded. For Wale to walk into the palace with this silly thought and still had the nerves to say it out to the Oba in the midst of the palace guards, even the Oba knew that something extraordinary had possessed this young man with a fair skin like a god and a long hair like a demon.

“Does your father know about your intention, Wale?” The Oba inquired.

“No one has known about this yet, Ka bi esi”. Wale replied more energetically.

“Then your father should be the first to know about this even before me”, the Oba remarked.

“Yes my king!” Wale admitted and prostrated the same manner he did when he stepped in before the Oba. Then he got up and left gallantly.

At home, he made his intention known to his parents. His father was glad to know and instantly supported him. He gave him his blessings and prayed  that the spirits of their fathers and great warriors before them protected and guided him even before and after the contest. But his mother, Folusho was a bit hesitant in her support. She feared that just like Ade and his men went to Ojola and never returned, the same fate might befall her son. So she got worried on the account of this mysterious happening, but could not stop Wale because it wasn’t in her position to do so since her husband had already supported him and decided he went for the fight.

“You only have to be careful, Wale. Ojola is evil; Zubola is too strong my son”, Folusho cautioned worriedly.

“Mother, I will be fine. The gods will protect me”. Wale replied confidently.

“My son, I only pray that what befell Ade and his men, and the entire kingdom of Ijela should not be your lot.”

“Mother, I am Wale, I am not Ade. And we are Ogunta, we are not Ijela, so such fate will never be ours”.

“I pray the gods to guide and protect you, Wale!”

“And so shall it be, mother”.

The contest was already half won with his parents’ support and blessings as Wale thought in his heart. He headed straight back to the Oba’s palace to give him the report so that the announcement would be made in the whole of Ogunta and preparations and training would commence for this great ambition.

At Akin’s compound, Wale received rigorous training day and night. Akin knew Wale had to better than he was in skill and in strength to defeat Zubola and conquer Ojola. But sometimes, Akin thought Wale was still a little fragile for the task ahead of him given his weak muscles that had not fully developed into monstrous biceps . Wale on his own did not care about his muscles and looks—all he cared about was victory. They trained, trained, and trained.