Travelogue: Trip to Oyo; Trip to Wilderness
Posted by Azeez Sanni | 3 years ago | 1,721 times
As he quizzed me: can you identify the lady on the poster? I looked at the direction he pointed to. I saw a very beautiful lady with her man on the poster. She looked everything but Rasheeda. I drove back and parked my 2001 model vehicle; which still, at least in view, compares to the latest vehicles in its class. I stepped down and trotted towards the poster. On a closer look, she was Rasheeda! It was then I remembered that I wasn’t putting on my medicated glasses. Added to this was the fact that the heavy make up on her hid the Rasheeda I knew from me. I returned to my vehicle and moved back to the tall, plump bouncer that gestured me to the poster initially. The bouncer repeated the query once again; ... “is she the person”? Of course my answer was in the affirmative. I was then ushered into the school premises where the Nikkah ceremony was already in session.
The journey from Osogbo was seamless and memorable. That was the first time I have driven from Osogbo to Oyo Town through that route. A senior colleague had directed my journey. He is from Oyo Town and plies the road always. His description of the road was perfect.
I left home 9:45am, and by 11:15am, I was already in Oyo! The road was attractive from Ara Junction end of Osogbo – Iwo Road. The weather on the day was beautiful. The road was free. As I took the turn at Ara Junction, towards Ara Town, I was very optimistic with the serendipity of the journey. The road wore a dark robe occasioned by the fresh asphalt that the government had just laid. By the newness and smoothness of the road, the road should be less than three months. The good road extended to some villages across the road. I was stopping at these villages to get their names so as to preserve the identities. The notable ones along the road are Ejigbo, Ara, Agoro, Masifa, Deure, Owu ile, Odo Oba and Ife Odan. These are villages and towns that adorned the robe of the good road I launched from Ara Junction up till the boundary between Osun and Oyo States.
The wedding event was colourful and eventful. Aso Ebi was more than mere ‘egbejoda’. The same Ankara design had about three to four colour variants. Without having experience in this science, a first timer may not know these designs are the same, but for colour. Despite these colour variations, they were all wonderful. I didn’t adorn any of these. In fact, I was not wearing the lace material. The bride, my student, was all smiles as I gallivanted into the arena. She was obviously happy and delighted that I made it to the programme. Her classmates were on hand to usher me into the arena. It was a large canopy, with beautiful decorations and setting. The canopy was well lit and the speakers working clearly. I expected that the compere would announce my arrival, as the lecturer of the bride. He didn’t, so I felt it was the frenzy of the time that allowed for such oversight. On another thought, I relaxed as I remembered that I was not in Oyo to be noticed. I was there to identify with one of my good students. I was the course adviser for her class for four years. Her class was the graduating class.
Rasheed Ayinde Merenge’s band was on hand at the venue. As I relaxed famished bum on a plastic seat about 50 metres from the stage where the couple was housed. Merenge has been around since the 80’s and his style of fuji is pristine. Not too far from the traditional brand, not common these days. He once claimed he would have ended up as a motor park tout if he had not been a musician. He has been on stage for over three decades in an industry that is volatile and competitive. The recent upsurge in the music industry in the country has had its toll on the fuji maestro. But, while he blasted from the speakers in Oyo on the day, you would know that he was anything but tired. He dazzled the congregation with good music. The ‘alaga iduro’ had to employ his services during the engagement ceremony. I had to relocate close to the couples stage at a point when new comers to the party were exchanging pleasantries unculturedly. The officiating Imam had to reluctantly ignore these noises when it was clear that they would not listen, stubbornly.
Meanwhile, a familiar smell enveloped the atmosphere as I drove on from Ife Odan, through the Osun/Oyo States boundary. Couple of minutes earlier, I had stopped abruptly at a settlement, not more than three houses and a few huts, to ask if I was still on the way to Oyo. I had initially stopped somewhere as confusion ran through my unsettled veins. It was not looking like a road. It could barely contain a car not to talk of two facing each other. Slaps from outstretched and overgrown weeds beside the deserted path further made me wonder if I had not gone astray. As I parked, picked my phone, to call my guide, it suddenly dawned on me that there was no network on my lines. That was it! I finally made the wrong journey. But, deep down in me, I wanted to proceed, as I have driven for close to one hour on the unknown road. One thing was certain. I knew the road back to my house if I didn’t to Oyo. I was still lost in thought, as I sat on my then very warm seat. The seat was responding to my anxiety and hopelessness. It had initially communicated with me as tiny drops of sweat had enveloped my back. Pim pim pim pim rented the air from a near distance. I jolted back from my thoughts. It was a motorcylcle. I was relieved that after about five minutes, there ws life.
I ignited the car engine and flashed my front lights at the rider. I also waved at him as he approached me with a cheetah like speed. He understood my intention and subsequently slowed down. I then queried him if the road I was facing leads to Oyo Town. He nodded in affirmation and added that I should just drive straight. That was it. I sped off through the extremely dusty, narrow path relieved. In less than three minutes, I was at the settlement of three houses and few huts. I stopped at this settlement to read on a signpost. It read Temidire Village, Oyo State. The settlement was about 18 minutes drive on average speed of 60km/h to Awe Town, and about five kilometres from Owu Ile, on the Osun State side of the divide.
As the smell rented the air, I deciphered it to be ‘chicken shit’. There is a very big site ahead. This was visible as the road lies partly on a mountain. All settlements ahead were seen from a distance. I got agitated on the nomenclature of the big compound ahead. Alas! It was responsible for the chicken shit smell I mentioned earlier. It is the Amo Farms.
Amo Farm is a very big farm that sits comfortably on approximately 83 hectares of land in awe Town. Awe Town is a surbub of Oyo Town. From my findings, Amo Farms account for the employment of majority of women in Oyo Town. In fact, it is the biggest employer of labour around the Oyo Town, even more than government. This is evident in the simple life of the host town, Awe. It is a serene environment, still lurking around modernisation and traditional society. The roads are untarred, though with an inkling that it was once tarred. Dusty and bumpy, it looked everything better than the path I encountered between Owu Ile and Temidire.
However, I was served a mixed fried rice and jollof rice delicacy. These were accompanied with beef. I watched the programme as I devoured the meal, after a fairly long drive from Osogbo. One significant thing that took me aback at the party was the fact that the congregation looked alien. That was the first time in about six months that I visited any event and the participants looked immuned against Covid 19 pandemic. I was the only one in the whole gathering adorning a facemask. Of course, as a university lecturer, teaching journalism and media studies, I should know better. I also, in addition to the facemask, had a 50ml hand sanitiser in my vehicle. I could see and feel peoples’ eyes gazing at me for being ‘unnecessarily’ too careful. I was not going to have any of those. There were a handful of students, who had attended their classmate’s wedding, attending to my needs. We gisted on many fronts. Their own wedding plans; what they were doing after leaving the university; the challenges after school; and a host of other things. I was not lonely. Instructively, all of them were females. No guy showed up at Rasheeda’s wedding. I did not like it. But as they say, life goes on with anybody and without anybody. It was still a successful outing for the bride. While I was becoming worried about time being expended on the programme, I checked my watch and discovered it was already time to offer the midday prayers. We Muslims pray just past midday and late afternoon. It is however allowed to combine these prayers and shorten them, for a set of people, one of which I was – a traveller. I asked for inhabitants of the town but could not get any. I tried using google compass, it wasn’t loading. So, I invoked the doctrine of necessity. This is to face any direction and pray only when you cannot identify the direction of the Qibla. I went behind the tents and offered my prayers. That was already 3pm. I reasoned that I needed to leave early to avoid any ‘wahala’ the road may pose. I directed one of the students to inform the bride that I would soon be on the way. She was nowhere to be found. She obviously went home to re-make up. Girls’ thing! There she was. Adesewa was gorgeously made-up by the make-up art professional she employed. I later learnt that they were some of her classmates. Wherever they learnt that, was a story for another time.
“Oga, e ma binu siwa o. Oju wa lo di sir;” she said after mustering some courage to face me. She was seeking my understanding on the reasons for her lateness to come and pay homage to her lecturer from across the towns. I stood up in reverence to the fact that she was a special celebrant that necessitated a whole department to commission one of the faculties to grace the occasion on behalf of it. She was honoured. She was happy. She was just smiling. I used to think that I was one of the lecturers she loathed while at the lower levels in the university. She was afraid to face me and tell me her problems despite being their level adviser. She would submit her course forms late because she was not going to let herself yelled at. I wasn’t yelling at them really, but students could be frustrating. I responded responsibly. I delivered the head of department’s message and felicitations. Sewa received blessings from me and that had his classmates watching delightedly. She knelt down, as we do in our culture. Prayers completed, she left to continue with other programmes, especially the long awaited engagement, with ‘alaga iduro’ and Merenge Founder.
I had loaded my tank with half tank fuel. As a usual practice with me, I didn’t fill the tank. I wanted to monitor the guage and usage. When in the morning , in Osogbo, I bought fuel, I had in mind one hour and half journey to Oyo Town, and another similar duration on my way back. By my estimates, on the fuel usage of my BMX X5 Sports Activity Vehicle, that would be around 40 litres. My instinct suggested I bought 35 litres and then top it up on my way back. That was what I did. I never knew I was going to rue that decision. I left and drove like a champion around Oyo Town towards Awe Town. In less than the time I spent on my way from Awe to Oyo while going in the morning, I was already at Awe. Then I lost the journey.
Recall that my guide told me to drive straight and that was what I did while going to have the sort of fluid journey to Oyo. I also drove straight on my way back. In about 15 minutes after I left Awe Town, I knew I was lost because the road wasn’t looking like the one I passed some five hours earlier. I was wondering where I missed it but saw a building I saw in the morning. I was fairly convinced I was still on the right track. The time then was the about 5:10 pm. In another five minutes, I was dead sure I have missed my way. I parked at a small settlement. Luckily, they speak Yoruba. I asked for Ife Odan Road and they told me that I missed it at Awe Town but added that I could still link it in front. I was scared of going back to Awe, and rather, I opted for the option. That was the most wrong thing I have done in my life. Fair description of how I will navigate the terrain, I was bold I will quickly get back on track. After I have driven for 20 minutes, I got to a junction. It was a T-junction. I got confused. But I remember the woman who lured me into this strange road saying I should keep left at the junction or else I would be going to Iwo. If I had any premonition of what lied ahead, I would have followed Iwo Road. So, I drove left and continued my journey in the wilderness. Another 25 minutes drive on the extremely dusty, but smooth road, in this strange environment put my heart is indescribable palpitation. I got to another T – junction. At this point, I parked again. I remembered Africanism. While growing up in our then village in Epe, Lagos State, we had a way of communication with people who were hidden somewhere in the bush or forest. It involves making a whooooo sound. I did this beside my sorry looking vehicle. I paced forward and backward whoooing whoever could be lurking in the bush. I did this for like five minutes, but no response was got. Suddenly, I sighted a signpost. I trotted towards it to check my location at least. Unfortunately, however, the address side of the board has already faded. I was disappointed. But, then, of what use would the location have been to me? Of no use, really. I checked my phone, the time was already 6:20pm. Recall that it was on a Sunday. For about one hour or thereabout, I didn’t see any person to ask anything. I felt lie calling my guide. But, I was confused, as to the fact that would he even know my location?
My heart skipped suddenly, my fuel is almost fully exhausted as the warning light sprang on my car’s instrument cluster. That was it. Mo daran! This fuel warning light usually comes on when you have about 10 litres of fuel left in the tank of the car. I then remember that the slower you drive the lesser the fuel the engine consumes. But, again, the time requires that I run fast. The sky was already preparing to rub its eyebrow. I was also observing the sun was gathering its sons and daughters from action.
They have started to prepare to call it a day. The insects were also not left out as they had started testing the microphones. The drums, flutes and saxophones were already being arranged as the sounds were gradually increasing. I checked my time again and it was 6:04pm. I was still in the wilderness that had no human. The sound of human jolted me to life. I saw just in from of me, two middle aged men, likely to be in their early forties, standing beside a motorcylcle and conversing.
The sound of my car also attracted their attention. I parked and approached them. My black and white colour Ankara attire was already brownish. But the way I was dressed provided a fairly comfortable avenue for a discussion. I greeted them and they answered. I then sought to know how to get to Ife Odan from that spot. The shorter man was swift to discourage me that I had to drive back to Awe – the town I left about one hour ago. He was very categorical that I had missed my way completely. I was downcast. The palpable fear on my face was noticed by the second man. I had two fears. Time and fuel. My fuel cannot take me for another one hour back to Awe. And it would be night by the time I reach Awe if I choose to drive back. I was contemplating asking for a space to sleep till morning. It was this fear the taller man of the two noticed that he called on another man. That one looked more mature than them and a lot older. His accent showed he is educated and enlightened. He is also a good hearted person. He was about to start talking when I heard the honking of a motorcycle horn. I had parked on the road believing that no vehicle would pass. That was borne out of my experience in the previous one hour drive around that vicinity.
The oldest man then allayed my fears. Even the persons on the motorcycle overheard us and contributed. He first asked where I was coming from and I told him Oyo. He understood where I missed the road and explained to me. He then said I was still much on the way to rejoining Ife Odan.
He encouraged me to drive on and that Ife Odan was not too far off. I sought for time frame. He couldn’t place any time on it. The time was 6:10pm. I was relieved. They added that I should not turn right at any junction. In fact, they added that in about three kilometres away, there would be a junction, I must turn left to still maintain my grip on track. As I thank him and made for my car, he ran after me. I got afraid, but he was not coming for me but running off to catch up with something else. I thanked all the three, and the riders, who were still pitying me as my vehicle was totally covered in thick dust. Unfortunately for the three riders on the motorbike, I had to release significant quantity of dust in the air as I zoomed off ahead of them, while they trail, on the dust laden road. A sudden, funny twist of fate. They were my benefactors moments ago and I suddenly became their tormentor. That wasn’t deliberate, though.
As I sighted the mini fuel station, I drove in relieved afterall. I refuelled and was about driving out of the station that I remembered that I still needed guide. I parked at the entrance not knowing a motorcycle rider was blocked in the process. But, he was a good man. Dressed responsibly in a tracksuit and a facecap, you would know he is cool and enlightened. He just moved back and even greeted me warmly. I answered, surprised. Immediately, he became my best option for a guide back to Osogbo, even, as I was already in Ife Odan. He asked me to drive straight and then turn right at the touch of a very smooth, tarred road. I drove out after thanking him enough and apologising for the initial block. He joked at the latter.
It was already 6:23pm, and the sun was almost lost behind me. But for its weak rays, the sun was gone. That signalled to me that I had to drive using my headlamps at some point. At the junction, ‘Mr Responsible’ told me, I forgot where to turn to. I needed further assistance. I rolled my window glasses down and asked passersby. It should be a turn to the right, they called out and wanted to be giving me further guides, but I was in no mood for time wasn't ing; I zoomed off. Immediately I turned right, I recognised the road. The journey went back to a jolly one. In no time I was in Ejigbo. At Ejigbo, There was an intersection that has all the roads looking like the one I used in the morning. I asked again, as the earlier Awe intersection miss was still fresh in my memory. I even had to pick some passengers at Ejigbo. They were going to Osogbo. That was to have company in the vehicle. We rode together to Osogbo.
I got home at exactly 7:15pm, and then the phones started ringing. While lost in the unknown community, I had tried calling my students that I left at Oyo. None of them could have a time for my call. The euphoria of the time was responsible; as I found out later. I also posted my predicament on my whatsapp status. As more people saw the status, they got worried and started calling. “I am home now” was my response as I entered my house famished, dusty, and hungry. But it was worth it for one of my former students who tried her best to take care of me while with us. Happy Married life Rasheeda Adeshewa.
Azeez Sanni, Department of Mass Communication, Fountain University, Osogbo. 08033034365
