Ojuani Dawán

In a village near the coast a giant tiger began to prowl about, destroying the crops and attacking the people. Panic spread among the villagers, who made their living producing palm oil from the pulp of the ikines on some nearby islets, and they decided to go and live on those islets until the danger passed. One family had an old woman who was ill, her body covered in sores, and they decided to leave her in the village for a few days while they built her a hut out on the keys; they left her food and water, and reinforced the walls so the tiger could not get in.

Left alone, the old woman was seized with fear: she lit the stove and set a great vat of palm oil boiling. At nightfall the tiger came into the village and, sniffing about, found the hut; when she heard it roar, the old woman took up her post beside the stove. When the tiger managed to push its head through the palm thatch of the wall, she filled a pot with boiling oil and threw it into its eyes, blinding it and burning its head; she ran out while the tiger, writhing in pain, fled blindly into the forest. The next day the men, hearing what had happened, armed themselves with arrows and machetes, followed its trail, surrounded it and killed it. Do not think yourself so strong, and do not rely on your physical strength: some poor wretch can give you a terrible fright.

A man had a little son, very beautiful, who used to lean out of the balcony window to look at the moon. One night his father asked him why, and the boy answered: «The moon talks with me, and she has told me many times that my father will want to pour water over my hands, and that I am going to refuse». The father told his wife, who said: «That means we are going to end up as his servants; the best thing would be to throw him into the sea». And from the balcony they threw him into the sea — but a seabird was passing, and it picked him up and traveled three days with him to a distant land. There the bird was hunted, and when they opened it in front of the Obá they found a beautiful boy in the pouch of its beak. The Obá, who was an Awó, adopted him, made Ifá for him at seven years old — Ojuani Ogunda came out — and at twenty-one gave him money: «Go and travel through other lands, so you learn more Ifá».

Meanwhile his real parents had fallen into poverty and opened an inn in another land, living with the remorse of what they had done. Ojuani Ogunda arrived with his retinue and lodged there, of all places, without being recognized. He had barely arrived when the father came to pour water over his hands so he could wash them: the Awó refused, and the father shuddered. «Why did you shudder?», he asked. «Because I remember that I had a son who would be about your age, and I threw him into the sea because he talked with the moon and told me that I would want to pour water over his hands and he would refuse». Back home, the Obá reminded him how he had come to that land, and that Ifá had told him his power was in his hands: he understood that he was the innkeeper's son. The father wanted him to come and live with them, but the Obá ruled: «Ifá orders that they come and live in Orunmila's house and receive Ifá, so the offense can be forgiven them — since their son is a Babalawo».

Oshún ruled over a land where all was gladness and happiness, in a castle set between the sea and the river. There her sister Obá came to take refuge, fleeing the world, disillusioned with men, her people migrating along with her. Oshún gave her shelter, made her part of the government, and required her own people to recognize her as elder sister and pay her homage. When Oshún had to see to other lands, she left Obá in charge — and Obá, a sad, melancholy, cold woman, set out to change the way life was lived: she banned music and dancing, and ordered that brides serve nine moons in the castle before the wedding, and married women the nine moons of their pregnancy. With her omieros and her powders on their bellies and their heads, the women turned away from men and grew sad like her: Oshún's people became gloomy.

The men went to Orunmila's Awó in the nearby town, who saw Ojuani Ogunda for them and marked ebbó — the rooster for Eshu, two white hens, two yellow ones, two figures, iwereyeye, Oshún's imo, sea water and river water and two masks. The Awó gave the rooster to Eshu Laboni at the riverbank and charged him with fetching Oshún; he swam to the land of Ibediaña, where Oshún was at a feast with her children, and told her everything. Oshún swam back with him, found her people in tears, and presented herself at the castle as if she knew nothing; she called a feast for her return — Obá objected, but had to accept, and did not attend. In the middle of the joyless feast the Awó arrived with the hens, the herbs and the waters, and together with Oshún he called Obá to the riverbank: there Obá ate the white hens and Oshún the yellow ones. And Oshún ruled: «You are my elder sister and I respect you, but you have made your daughters and mine unhappy. From today you will lead them to good ways and away from vice; you will live in my house and everyone will bring you offerings — but I will govern the heads and the hearts of our children». The castle was glad again, and Obá was offered virgin animals, eggs, fish and fruit at weddings and births. That is why Obá's children are given Oshún with an oró for Obá, and why all of Oshún's children should have Obá, for their health, their self-control and the order of their lives.