Oba Afelel II of Orile-Owu Remembered


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It has been a year since Oba Moses Olayioye Adedosu Adejobi, Afelele II, the Olowu of Owu-Ipole, generally known as Orile-Owu transcended to honour a date with his ancestors in a rather unfortunate manner. Owulakoda.com joins its kiths and kins at Orile-Owu in the remembrance of their beloved late monarch by trying to recreate the mood of those moments through this article culled from The Sun, a Nigerian newspaper soon after the incident :

Owu people mourn beloved monarch From AKEEB ALARAPE, Osogbo Saturday, March 26, 2011 .

The road linking Apomu to Orile-Owu was desolate on this day.

Apart from few bad portions that dot the road, the road could still be considered a good one. But apparently identifying with the mood of the moment, life was non-existent on the road. The 15-minute drive from Apomu to Orile-Owu was devoid of the usual busy movement of vehicles. At least, from the Owu end, motorists seemed to have stayed off the road for the day. Occasionally, some exotic vehicles, apparently not belonging to that environment, zoomed past.

At the entry point to Orile-Owu, a social gathering could be noticed but it lacked the usual fanfare. A naming ceremony but without fun! No music, no dancing. The one lane road that passes through the sleepy town was completely deserted. A group of young boys gathered in front of a building wearing not so exciting looks. At the other side of the road, a group of housewives clustered in a hushed tone discussion. All eyes focused on the on-coming car. One can easily discern the message on their faces. “Our beloved king is dead’, they all seemed to be saying…

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2 comments on “Oba Afelel II of Orile-Owu Remembered

  1. My parents were from this ancient town and am proud of that. But will hardly visit the town and i summoned a courage and went to the town for the FIRST TIME! My daddy was surprise and very confused, because he hadn’t take us to the town before. I was very happy when my maternal-grandmother saw me, but very very sad because she couldn’t remember my name again, i had to did brief-introduction and explanation before she could remember me. I dread the town because what people are saying that the town was full of evils and witches. I was born and bred in lagos likewise my younger and older siblings……………. Orile-Owu? Hmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnn

    • Akinlabi.

      If only you can see me now, i am clapping and jubilating as accolade for your enterprise and sense of purpose. Don’t lose that remarkable character in you and don’t allow anybody to hogwash you into dreading your own roots and ancestoral home. That nonsense about the place being populated by evils and witches? MUMBO JUMBO, I tell you!

      I wonder how many evils befell you and how many witches took a sip of your blood when you adventured there of your own free will?

      You see that is the negative side of our culture where every mishap no matter how ludicrous must be blamed on somebody else and some unnatural forces. Sickle cell anaemia for instance which is hereditary in the blood is termed ‘abiku’ by us, or some evil old and withered grandmothers somewhere infested with the lust for whichcraft quenching their thirst on the blood of the poor unprotected innocent children.

      I was born and bred in Lagos too and i can testify to you that the monstrous city flouts more evils and danger than most other places i have ever been…and that’s quite a bit! I and my siblings were similarly shielded from our roots years ago out of the overcaring love called motherhood. I had to wait until after i re-entered the society following my developing a burning urge for my true origin at the instigation of the insolence of the whiteman before I could retrace my roots. Guess what? I am still on that ‘Ancestoral Quest’ up to this moment and it is fired more and more into a raging furnace with every passing day as i unearth more and more of our hidden past, some of which are inglorious and others which make me extremely proud and puffy.

      And most importantly, after all these years on the quest, those monstrously fearsome evil witches and sorcerers haven’t turned me into a toad or the beast – at least not yet!

      My brother, when eventually such derogatory thoughts and assumptions are totally eradicated, the blackman shall be trully emancipated. Until then…???!!! God help us.

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