Ojuani Ogunda

Near the coast there was a village that suffered the constant visits of an enormous tiger. The beast ruined the crops and, if it met anyone, tore that person apart.

Terror spread among the neighbors, who earned their living making corojo palm fat. They got the raw material on some nearby islets covered with oil palms; from the pulp of their fruit they obtained a yellow fat of excellent quality. Because they feared that the tiger would burst into the settlement and kill the elderly, the children and the women, they decided to move to the islets while the threat lasted.

They moved over in boats and canoes. One of the families had a sick old woman at home, covered with sores, and agreed to leave her in the settlement for a few days until they finished building a hut for her on one of the islets, so that she would not suffer from the weather. The truth is that she did not want to leave her hut, where the family also made corojo palm fat. Before leaving, they gave her plenty of water and food and reinforced the walls, so that the tiger could not get through if it appeared.

Now alone, the old woman was filled with fear. She lit firewood in the stove and put a large pot of corojo palm fat on to heat until it boiled.

With nightfall the tiger came to the settlement, followed the smell and found the hut. Hearing its roars, the old woman stood by the fire, ready. The animal tried to get in and managed to push its head between the palm leaves that formed the wall. Then she took a container, filled it with the boiling fat and threw it in its face: she left its eyes blind and its head burned. She ran out of the hut, while the tiger, writhing, left the settlement without direction and was lost in the forest.

The next morning several men returned. Already told of what had happened, they took arrows and machetes and followed the beast's tracks. They found it, surrounded it and ended its life.

A certain man had a small boy, handsome, who spent time leaning out of the balcony looking at the moon. One night the father wanted to know why, and the child told him that the moon spoke to him. It had told him many times that his father would want to pour water for him to wash his hands, and that he would refuse.

The man mentioned it to his wife; she reasoned that they would end up serving him and proposed throwing him into the sea. He did so, from the same balcony. A sea bird happened to be passing, picked up the child and flew three days to a distant land. There they hunted the bird, and when they opened it in front of the Obá, they found the child in the pouch of its beak, very beautiful.

The Obá, who was an Awó, decided to raise him as a son. When the boy was seven he initiated him in Ifá, and Ojuani Ogunda came out. When he turned twenty one, he gave him money and sent him to travel through other lands to learn more Ifá.

Meanwhile, the true parents had become poor and had moved to another land, where they opened a shop. The remorse for what they had done to their son gave them no peace.

Ojuani Ogunda arrived with his retinue in that same land and asked for lodging at that business, not knowing it belonged to his parents, who did not recognize him either. As soon as he came in, the father went to pour water for him to wash his hands. The Awó did not allow it, and the father trembled. Ojuani Ogunda asked him the reason for that trembling.

The shopkeeper explained that he had had a son who, if alive, would be the Awó’s age. He had thrown him into the sea because he talked with the moon and announced that he would refuse to let water be poured on his hands. The Awó replied that this had nothing to do with him, and the father answered that, indeed, nothing: the Awó was a son of Orunmila and he a poor shopkeeper.

Back in his land, Ojuani Ogunda told the Obá everything. The Obá reminded him how he had come there and brought to his mind a saying of Ifá: his strength lay in his hands. So the young man understood that he was the son of the shopkeeper.

On learning this, the shopkeeper wanted to take his son to live with him and his wife. The Obá answered that Ifá demanded the opposite: the parents had to settle in Orunmila’s home and receive Ifá, so that their fault would be forgiven, since their son was a Babalawo.

Oshún reigned in a happy land, and her residence was a castle located between the sea and a river. One day her sister Obá came to take refuge there, withdrawing from the world because men had let her down. All her people migrated with her. Oshún welcomed her, gradually taught her how to govern and ordered her people to respect Obá as the older sister and give her honors and worship.

Some time later, other lands that depended on Oshún demanded her presence, and she left. She left the command in the hands of Obá. Obá knew the customs of the people and tolerated them only because Oshún was present, but she disapproved of so many parties, so much merrymaking and so much freedom among couples. Obá had a sad and melancholy character, and was reserved in intimate matters. She decided to transform life in the place.

The first thing was to forbid music and dancing. She ordered that brides serve in the castle for nine moons before marrying, and that married women do the same during the nine moons of pregnancy. In that service, Obá used her powers to change the women’s way of being: she made them reject men and become as sad as she was. To achieve this she gave them baths with an omiero of her own preparation and worked on their bellies and heads with powders she made herself.

The whole people of Oshún filled with sadness and silence. The daughters of Oshún and those of Obá lived among complaints and sorrows. Seeing this, a group of men went to consult the awó of Orunmila, who lived in the nearby town. The awó attended them, saw Ojuani Ogunda and explained that ceremonies had to be done to bring Oshún back. The ebbó he indicated was: two white hens and two yellow ones; a rooster for Eshu; two dolls, female and male; iwereyeye; the imo of Oshún with leaves whose tips are folded; sea water and river water; and two masks.

The men gathered what was asked. The awó gave the rooster to Eshu Laboni beside the river, with the task of finding Oshún. Eshu Laboni swam down the river to Ibediaña, where the children of Oshún were celebrating a party in her honor. He told her what was happening, and Oshún threw herself into the water and swam beside him back to the land where she had left Obá. She found the people depressed and tearful from so much misery.

She arrived at the castle pretending to know nothing. Obá greeted her, surprised, because she did not expect her. The next morning, Oshún had a party announced to celebrate her return. Obá protested, but the castle belonged to Oshún and she had to give way; even so, she did not attend.

The party began with the men back, but the women were still under Obá’s spells and nobody enjoyed it. In the middle of the celebration the awó of Orunmila appeared, who had prepared the ebbó, bringing hens, herbs, waters and dolls. He told Oshún everything, and together they led Obá to the riverbank. There Obá was fed the hens with white feathers, and Oshún the ones with yellow feathers.

Then Oshún spoke to her sister: “You are my older sister and I respect you, but with your rule you made your daughters and mine sad. From now on I will direct the feelings and thoughts of all your children and mine. It is your task to guide them toward good customs and keep them away from vices; it is mine to give them joy and the enjoyment of the good things the world has. You will have your place in my house, offerings will be made to you and you will be consulted on everything, but in the minds and feelings of our children I am the one who rules.”

With that the castle and the town recovered their joy, and everyone honored Obá with virgin animals, eggs, fish and fruit when there were weddings or a child was born.