By Folasade Irinoye
November 5, 2024
On festival days, when a new Arugba walks the ancient path to the Osun River, old women clutch their beaded necklaces and murmur prayers of protection. The air is thick with the scent of incense and chanting. They remember—how could they forget?—the day the gods turned their backs on Osogbo when the sacred calabash, a vessel of divine communication, shattered and spilled its secrets across the dusty earth. "Èéṣe!" The cry still echoes through time. "Abomination!"
The Forbidden Love: Storm, Passion, and Fate
One fateful night, when lightning tore through the sky, two souls slipped into the shadows behind the palace walls. It was a night of whispered oaths and forbidden promises, a love daring to challenge the divine. The air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth, and the storm's roar, a harbinger of the tumult to come, mirrored the conflict in their hearts.
"Akanni, we tempt fate itself," Adunni whispered, her white wrapper drenched, her voice trembling with fear and longing. Her love for Akanni was a beautiful, forbidden flower blooming in the storm.
"Then let fate learn to bend," he replied, pulling her close. "Are we not both children of Osun? Does she not understand love?"
Their love blossomed like a flower at night, defying the sacred laws that bound Adunni as the Arugba. They surrendered to passion's wildfire in Akanni's room, hidden deep within the palace. The sound of the storm outside melded with the thunder of their hearts.
"My love, you outshine the morning star," Akanni murmured, his lips tracing the curve of her neck.
"In your eyes, I see a future where we can challenge even the gods themselves." His words were a symphony in Adunni's heart, a melody that resonated in the stormy night.
Adunni's heart swelled with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him. "Forever with you, Akanni, is where I long to be."
Thunder answered their defiance, but they paid it no heed. That night, as storm waters mixed with river waters, two hearts became one beneath the weeping sky.
But on the day of the Osun Osogbo Festival, Adunni's secrets would be exposed, and the consequences of their love would be unleashed.
The egrets knew. They fled the sacred grove at dawn, their white wings catching the first light like scattered prayers. The river ran dark that morning, its usual crystal waters taking on the hues of old bronze—omens that went unheeded amidst the festival's mounting excitement.
Adunni stood in her chamber, memories of that thunderous night flooding back as she prepared for her sacred duty. Each item of ritual clothing felt heavier than the last: the white wrapper, the beaded crown, the sacred sash.
Her reflection in the brass mirror revealed a goddess-to-be, but her heart raced like a river in flood, swirling and churning with every passing moment.
"Yeye o! Yeye Osun!" The chants rose and fell like waves:
Iba Osun sekese
Praise to the Goddess of Mystery
Latojoku awede we ‘mo
Spirit that cleans me inside out
Iba Osun Olodi
Praise to the Goddess of the river
Latojoku awede we ‘mo
Spirit that cleans me inside out
Iba Osun ibu kole
Praise to the Goddess of Seduction
Latojoku awede we ‘mo
Spirit that cleans me inside out
Yeye kari
Mother of the MirYeye'atojoku awede we 'mo
Spirit that cleans me inside out
Yeye' jo
Mother of Dance
Latojoku awede we ‘mo
Spirit that cleans me inside out
Yeye opo
Mother of Abundance
O san rere o
We sing your praises
Ase
The child of Ife, where the sun rises
The mother who gives a bounteous gift
The tender-hearted one
The source of water
The child of Ijesa
The water to whom the King prostates to receive a gift
Yeye O, Osun, Osun O, aare me Osun waa se kumara!
The air crackled with a thousand ecstatic voices; their prayers soared like eagles toward the heavens. None noticed how the chosen Arugba's steps faltered slightly, how her eyes kept seeking one familiar face in the crowd.
Ajike watched her daughter with knowing eyes as they prepared the ritual items. "The calabash knows," she said cryptically, running her fingers along its smooth rim. "It knows when hands are pure enough to carry it."
Adunni looked away, her heart thundering like distant drums.
The Fall of the Arugba: Tradition Shattered
Then, like a star falling from the heavens, Adunni collapsed. Time fractured like the sacred calabash, spilling memories instead of sacred water across the dusty ground. A thousand gasps merged into one great cry of horror.
Yet for Adunni, the world had already spun backwards, pulling her through the tapestry of choices that had led to this moment.
"The oracle has spoken," the Chief Priest announced, his voice ringing through the palace courtyard. "Osun herself has chosen Adunni as this year's Arugba."
Pride swelled in her chest that day, even as Akanni's face in the crowd fell like a stone dropped into still water. She had been chosen—pure, worthy, blessed. The weight of tradition should have anchored her heart.
But that night...
She had told him beneath the iroko tree, their childhood meeting place, "An Arugba cannot love a mortal man."
"Then love me as a woman," Akanni replied, his voice rough with emotion. "Before you become their goddess, be my heart's keeper one last time."
The talking drum practised festival rhythms in the distance, its beats matching their racing pulses.
The procession neared the river's edge. Later, some would swear they saw Osun's spirit herself turn away, unable to bear witness.
As the procession reached the river's edge, Adunni's slender figure shimmered against the golden light of dusk. The sacred calabash, adorned with intricate carvings and symbols of Osun's power, balanced precariously on her head.
The air vibrated with anticipation, the chanting of "Yeye o! Yeye Osun!" swirling around her like a whirlwind.
The calabash contained sacred water infused with the people's prayers and hopes. Its contents glimmered like liquid moonlight, imbued with the essence of frankincense and myrrh. As Adunni moved, the fragrance wafted through the air, entrancing the crowd.
But Adunni's steps faltered, her gaze locking onto Akanni's in the crowd. The weight of their secret bore down upon her, threatening to unravel the serenity of the ritual. The sacred laws of the Arugba—dictating her purity and devotion to Osun—pressed against her like a crushing weight.
She stumbled. The calabash wobbled once, twice, like a spinning top nearing the end of its dance. Time slowed, stretched, suspended as the vessel teetered on the edge of disaster. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a final, fleeting glow across the scene.
Then, like a star falling from the heavens, Adunni collapsed. The sacred calabash crashed to the ground, its contents spilling across the dusty earth like scattered dreams. The sound echoed through the grove, starkly contrasting the silence that followed—thousands of hearts seemed to stop, breaths caught in throats dry with horror.
The river, once a gentle witness to the ritual, now flowed with an ominous undertone, its waters whispering dark secrets to the night. The sacred offering, meant to ensure the community's well-being, lay shattered and desecrated—like a promise broken beyond repair.
"Èéṣe!" The cry ripped through the grove like thunder. "Abomination!"
Time snapped back into place with brutal force. The Ẹ̀yọ̀ masquerades froze mid-dance, their white robes suddenly resembling shrouds more than ceremonial garb. The talking drums stuttered and fell silent.
"My daughter," Ajike had beamed, arranging Adunni's hair in the traditional style of an Arugba-elect. "You will carry not just the calabash but the hopes of all Osogbo."
If only she had known how those words would curdle into a curse upon her lips.
The Chief Priest’s voice cut through the chaos like a machete through brush: "The Arugba carries more than the calabash. She bears new life within her—a life conceived in defiance of sacred law." His revelation hung in the air, a thunderclap of scandal and betrayal.
In the privacy of her chamber, Adunni had pressed a trembling hand to her belly, feeling the subtle changes that only a woman knows. The morning sickness she had dismissed as festival nerves, the tenderness she had ignored—all the small betrayals of her body, leading inexorably to this moment.
"May the gods who witnessed my shame curse the fruit of my womb!" Ajike’s voice rose above the crowd's horror, her mother’s love curdling to venom in an instant.
The crowd rippled with shock. For a mother to curse her child—it was the final thread of hope, severed. With back straight as a spear, Ajike turned and walked away, toward her compound. None dared to follow.
"Worth it," Akanni had whispered into her hair that fateful night. "Whatever comes, you are worth it."
Atáọ́ja Oba Adewale rose from his throne, his royal beads clicking like dice casting fate. "The gods demand justice," he intoned, his voice heavy with duty.
"Let them be banished—the defiled Arugba and the man who dared taint her purity. Let their names be forgotten, like footprints in running water."
As they left the sacred grove, the ancient trees stood sentinel, their gnarled branches etched against the fading light like sorrowful sculptures. Once vibrant, the leaves now rustled softly in the twilight breeze, whispering secrets to the departing lovers.
Behind them, the Osun River flowed, its waters shimmering like a serpent's scales under the dying light. The grove’s sacred energy seemed to dissipate, leaving only an eerie stillness—as if even the spirits had turned their backs in mourning.
To this day, some say that during the Osun Osogbo Festival, the winds whisper their names when the Arugba begins her sacred journey. The elders tell this as a cautionary tale of love's power to both bless and destroy, of how tradition and passion wage an eternal war in the human heart.
Yet, others speak of Adunni and Akanni not with scorn, but with secret admiration. For who among us, they ask, would not trade eternity for a love that dares to challenge the gods themselves?
FAQs
What is the purpose of Osun Osogbo festival?
The purpose of Osun Osogbo Festival is to honour Osun, the Yoruba goddess of fertility, love, and prosperity. The festival seeks to appease Osun, ensure blessings, and promote communal harmony.
What is the true story of Osun Osogbo?
The Osun-Osogbo Festival has a rich 600-year history, dating back to the founders of Osogbo community. When the founders attempted to clear trees for settlement, Yeye Osun, the river goddess, appeared before their leader, Olutimehin. Yeye Osun asked Olutimehin to lead his people to the present-day Osogbo town, promising protection and prosperity. In return, the goddess requested an annual sacrifice. The group accepted, and today, the annual sacrifice to Yeye Osun is celebrated at the Osun-Osogbo Festival.
How many shrines are in Osun Osogbo grove?
Set within the forest sanctuary are forty shrines, sculptures and art works erected in honour of Osun and other Yoruba deities, many created in the past forty years.
What does Osun mean in Yoruba?
Ọṣun is the Yoruba orisha associated with love, sexuality, fertility, femininity, water, destiny, divination, purity, and beauty, and the Osun River, and of wealth and prosperity in vodoo.
Why did Osun turn to river?
In Yoruba cosmology, Osun was one of the wives of Sango, the powerful orisha of thunder. Sango's other wife, Oba, was also an orisha. A disagreement arose between Osun and Oba, sparked by Oba's jealousy of Sango's affection for Osun. The tension escalated, and Oba, in a fit of rage, cut off her own ear and presented it to Sango, deceitfully claiming Osun had assaulted her. Sango, believing Oba's lie, became enraged and chased Osun, intending to punish her. Osun, heartbroken and frightened, fled to the forest. To escape Sango's wrath, Osun transformed into a river, flowing into the earth to hide. This transformation allowed her to maintain her connection to the natural world and her people.
What is Osogbo famous for?
Osogbo is famous for two things: The Sacred Grove, and the Osun Osogbo Festival.
Osun Osogbo Sacred Grove: A UNESCO World Heritage Site, this sacred forest is dedicated to the goddess Osun and features ancient shrines, sculptures, and art.
Osun Osogbo Festival: An annual celebration honouring Osun, attracting thousands of devotees and tourists.
How old is Osun Osogbo?
The Osun-Osogbo Grove is several centuries old and is among the last of the sacred forests that once adjoined the edges of most Yoruba cities before extensive urbanization.
Why is Osun Osogbo Sacred Grove important?
In recognition of its global significance and its cultural value, the Sacred Grove was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2005. It has become a sacred place for the whole of Yorubaland and a symbol of identity for the wider Yoruba Diaspora. The Grove is an active religious site where daily, weekly and monthly worship takes place.
Beautifully captured. We mustn't forget our history. Agba onitan lorile! Well-done!