Prince Eze's clan numbered several hundred and then, later, several thousand. This wealthy merchant, in the days when Alaafin Shango whose mind conjured thunder, had earned his reputation, was known for his insight and his economic savvy.
Eze, legend informs us, made that journey from the lands known then to most as Banubia, moving
westwards in search of fertile plains until having to divert Southwards to avoid conflict with Olodu Shango's clans-the children of General Oduduwa. Oduduwa, you must remember, had also searched for fertile plains away from the Nile Valley after his cousin, Lamidi, had that little problem with the Meccans.
Oh, but this was long ago, when we were only children, so we may have infused details of specific historical note now and again; now and again. It is the way, of course, of children.
Nonetheless, in the twilight of his life, glancing across the big river, we recall Eze's popular mantra being repeated often and again. "Self-sufficiency, Mazi" Eze would say with his thick accent, "self-sufficiency." It actually sounded more like "sailph sophishaincy," but however he said it, we knew what he meant. We, of the "twelve tribes of Eze," needed to allow the heads of the clans maintain control of our collective destiny.
Further west, the then middle-aged Alaafin Shango spoke with birds that carried messages from Oyo to Morocco. They said he was in love with a damsel from those parts and that her newly Christian father would have nothing of this. And yet, Shango's reputation preceded him so that the Centurion eventually sent envoys to Oyo to bless the land with linen and silk. Shango sent back one-hundred and thirty-nine agbadas made of Khaki and a gleaming sword.
Prince Eze's clans they made their home around the big river.
According to the story, a woman "the color of the night" had been seen in a vision, one evening, who informed Eze that this land, replete with fish and the elements, was the promised land that Eze had been guided to by his star.
Eze and Shango never quite got along. It is because Shango, in those early years of his reign, utilized sixteen heavenly signs to divine progress. Eze utilized twelve, typical of Banubian families.
Of course, Eze was correct, as we know today, but Shango would never admit it. According to the forest birds, it was not until, older and with a wry smile, he would give Eze his due suggesting that even if it was true that Banubia was a distance away from the upper Nile, the
Banubians "had their ways." He would never shy away from adding, of course, that it had more to do with Eze's mastery of the big river than any more an inate awareness by Eze's people of Olodumare's will.
Despite this, Eze's clans were able to live in harmony with Shango's cousins, the Enok clans that were constantly coming into vast and fertile lands where there are rumored to be "many, many rivers."
Eze was concerned with his father's business ventures. His father, now we don't even whisper his name. He is too big a spirit. His father was one of those. The silent rumble of great men of The Niger Delta that lie in the heart of the deep and speak to us as only they can.
But Eze, Prince Eze, had to supervise quite a lot. The birds of the forest said that because he had so much, like Abraham, and because he did not know whether to choose Chinedu or Chinelu as the executor of his will, all that would be left of Eze's shining kingdom, after three centuries, would be nothing but a memory of when Eze's name was synonymous with fish. But then, a talking drum was telling me the other day, that Alaafin Shango "would never let such a thing happen."
Now this struck me as odd. An interesting twist, one might imagine, until one remembers that it was Shango's reputation that conjured thunder. He was, after all, the one whom Olodumare greeted with a Thunder Clap on the day he was born.
One European fellow with sun glasses, he believes that, in fact, Shango was not only a contemporary of Eze, but also that their ancestors both studied at the same University. Looking back into history is always like this, I say. It's always like this. Because Eze's "way" was distinct and unpeered for his time and among the Banubians, the children of General Oduduwa had cause to be impressed enough to "know of" Eze. This is how big Eze had become when he earned his own reputation for his business savvy.
And yet, Alaafin Shango confided in one young boy drunk with the wine of the gods, that he was displeased with the ways things were going with his own clans. The petulant youngster responded to the Alaafin that it was because he was not using Banubian Astronometry that things were not going so great.
The Alaafin was astounded. He had just been taking one of his morning walks, his hands behind his back, his trademark striped khaki agbadi dancing with the morning breeze. In the air was the sound of a woman from Morocco. Or so the rumors suggested. It was certainly amusing to the Alaafin that his people spent so much time attempting to understand what he was muttering when he walked through the market and spoke with spirits as he smiled quietly with the market women and young men who deposited the food from the farms, coincidentally, on the days the Alaafin
visited the market.
His guards, forty paces away in sixteen directions, began chanting. Their harmony, again, was off. This irritated Shango, but he said nothing. Aderotun would be sure to take care of this.
On the outskirts of the Royal Settlement there was a security breach. The young lad had stumbled into the Alaafin between guards fifteen and sixteen. As always, the Alaafin's magnetism was never called into question. But at the Royal Settlement, how should a drunk person be able to come close to the Alaafin? And a young lad at that!
"Young man, shouldn't you be elsewhere?"
"I am drunk, Sir" the lad responded.
"I see. I am very busy now. Can I help you?"
"Yes, Sir. I need money to travel."
"Where do you wish to go?"
"The great city."
The Alaafin laughed and the clouds darkened. He felt the elements and knew Madam Yemoja would speak today.
"Young man, if you solve my problem, I will give you money to go to the great city."
"I can solve your problem, Sir" the young lad responded.
It was then that the Alaafin confided in the young man about the way in which things were going. Quiet thunder begun to rumble and soon the rain had started sprinkling His Majesty, the guards and the young lad. The Market women who were two hundred paces away, sighed exasperatedly. Alaafin or not, this rain was costing them business!
"Banubian Astronometry."
"Banubia?"
"Banubian Astronometry, Sir. You are not using Banubian Astronometry."
Everytime the Alaafin related this event to a Chief, the response was always the same. Roaring laughter. Banubian Astronometry. Legend has it that the Alaafin did give the lucky
youngster enough money to go to the great city, but had him sequestered on the Royal Settlement until he was a "worthy ambassador." Shango's reputation was gold. Gold. We will continue
this discussion, of course, when I have had more palm-wine.
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