The king in Ijesa is not Sango, god of thunder, but he strikes. The ‘gentle’ king who sits amongst the gods in his Ilesa home got angry. He left members of a communal crisis/resolution committee and entered his inner room. When Obas angrily go into their inner rooms, they are likely to do three things—to open the sacred calabash, to commune with ancestors, or to activate their supreme power.
The king returned. He did not open the sacred calabash. He came out with red eyes and a stiff face. Who or what made Oba angry? The king began to foam at the mouth when he heard that one of his high chiefs stole transformers. An old priest walked towards the committee members. He lambasted them. “Go and learn the ethics of public speaking or engaging a paramount ruler,” he advised.
A committee member in response loudly stated that I told them. “I had warned them, but they did not listen,” he further stated. How can we inform the public, especially the monarch, that one of his ‘large’ chiefs stole two transformers from the market square? Ha! “Ewo (What a taboo),” a concerned committee member inquired.
Angry? Why? The king constituted a panel to resolve communal disputes in a troubled town. What was he expecting other than shocking and terrible feedback from the panel? But I do not think the king got angry.
Rather, he felt disappointed that such could happen.Can someone whose role is to enable or promote peace be responsible for violence or crisis? Can a chief truly throw his people into darkness? What did the panel tell the king?
Why did the king get angry? Did anyone steal transformers belonging to the poor and struggling residents of Ilesa who find survival in the market? I did not waste time. I searched for the truth, and I saw it sipping condensed milk in a relaxed mood.
Stolen transformers? That’s blackmail. They were missing, Mr. Truth frowned. I did not argue with Mr. Truth. How did they get missing? 500 kV and 200 kV transformers are not biscuits that can be squeezed into pockets now.
Where did they walk to? And have they been found? These missing transformers deserve to be arrested, arraigned, and imprisoned. What audacity. What nonsense. They developed wings and flew away, causing tension in Ilesa.
How? A rather stubborn and confused resident demanded an explanation. What temerity. You dare ask a chief how two patients (transformers) in his custody got missing. Well, they got sick, and I took them to University College Hospital, Ibadan, where both spent six months.
Did you seek permission from their parents before you took them to the hospital? No. I am a chief, and I can act anyhow. I don’t need to seek permission. I only informed their Oloriebi, and I did not wait for his approval before I did so, an angry chief responded. Did they get well? No. But one was responding to treatment. So I had to sell one and use the money to care for the other. Did you inform their parents? No. “I am a chief, and I can act anyhow,” he lamented again.
But … cuts in… But what? He angrily lashed back. Where is the second patient (transformer) responding to treatment now? “In UCH Ibadan,” he replied. Great, you need to bring it within a month, either fine or not, the panel chair declared. He nodded in the affirmative.
The king did not like the feedback he got from the panel. He frowned at the 31-day ultimatum and reduced it to 7 days. He instructed the good Samaritan who stole, sorry, ‘took’ two hailing patients (transformers) to UCH Ibadan to bring them either dead or alive in the next 7 days. He also provided a direct means of transportation from Ibadan to Ilesa to make it easier.
The good Samaritan used his hand to caress the sharpened blade of the king. He told his friends in a beer parlor that the king cannot do anything. “He’s just bluffing. He is not more Ilesa than us. We are more grounded and rooted than him,” he bluffed. Seven days elapsed, yet he did not bring these transformers from UCH Ibadan. “What a weak king,” people chorused.
People begged the good Samaritan. His wife, concubines, and friends begged him. Pity the king. Allow his verdict to become law. Don’t mess around with traditional authority. Don’t allow the king to get angrier. The head of his family begged him too. He later pitied the king and brought two transformers into the town.
I can buy ten transformers. I am not a poor man. “I am a big chief,” he boasted. We know you can buy many transformers, but why did you sell one patient, sorry transformer to take care of another? Why did you sell the other patient’s sorry transformer as scraps? Did you bring the two patients (transformers) you took to UCH Ibadan? Yes, two transformers—the one that is recovering and the one that has been sold.
Why did he bring them after seven days had passed? “To spite the king,” a young man decried. We need to check the transformers he brought. Are they 500 kV and 200 kV, respectively? Can they power more than 40 houses? They agitated. They ranted, shouted, and lamented. All in vain.
The transformers have been returned. Either they’re in decent shape or not. Either they were genuinely taken away, or not. Nobody cares because the culprit is a big thief, sorry, Chief.
In all, everywhere is now calm. If you speak about transformers, you will be arrested by the police. If you mention anybody’s name, you will be arrested. We all must continue to live as if nothing happened, and we come together to abuse people in political positions for being cocky, selfish, and corrupt. And us, saints and mothers, Theresa. What a transformer.
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