JAGUNLABI✔

CHAPTER TWELVE

Contrary to what many believe, African culture is not equivalent to 'black magic.'

Our ways of life was not without its own flaws, but the beauty of it is not celebrated. There is a popular saying of our elders, 'Ori bibe ko l'ogun ori fifo'. You do not treat a headache by cutting your head off.

Baba did not instruct me to do anything. He merely advised me to look within myself. I was grateful to Niyi for bringing me to the elder and advisor who was most suitable for me.

From the time Niyi and I arrived, we were pampered like royalty. Baba Orija and his wife told us about how lovely it was to have children in the house again. Both of us laughed it off after telling them we were adults. To which they responded that, 'to us you are children.'

Niyi and I spent a lot of time together as usual. A sense of peace, that I had not had in a long time settled over me. My breathing was not shallow, and did not come out in tense puffs. Tension rolled off my spirit in waves.

I felt taller, stronger and more flexible. Like a Bata dancer- a fascinating type of traditional Yoruba dance, swaying and bending to the melody of the drums.

Baba Orija allowed us to rest on the day we arrived. We sat together on the verandah in the evening. Enjoying the cool breeze and listening to all the humorous stories about when they were young and tales by moonlight.

The following day, Baba asked me to tell him everything that happened. It was a painful experience, but necessary part of understanding how to solve the problem he explained.

"Have you been having visions about what you should do?" he asked.

"No, sir," I replied.

"That is because you allowed fear to gain a foothold in your heart," he replied gently. "You are a seer, but you have not realised your full potential because you are afraid."

Niyi sat by my side and squeezed my hand. Baba had a point. After all was said and done, my heart had literally no space for reflection. Except for the occasional random visions, most of the time I was nursing thoughts of fear.

"By the way, did you actually accept money from Kennedy Olajide?" Baba asked.

"No, I did not," I replied.

Baba broke out into a song.

"O ti se o, Baba ti se o,
O ti se o, Baba ti se o,
Ohun to n bami leru, Baba ti se o"

"He has done it, Baba has done it,
He has done it, Baba has done it,
What I was afraid of, Baba has dealt with."

Niyi and I exchanged baffled looks.

"The beautiful thing about the work of God, is that he will reveal what pleases him, when it pleases him and to whom he pleases," Baba said.

He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, "You were wrong to tell that blogger those lies, but you did not accept payment from him to do so."

I look down at my feet. Guilt for getting involved at all, directly or indirectly for slandering Rotimi Orisajana still sat in a corner of my heart.

"You still need to seek for forgiveness for playing an indirect role though," Baba added gently.

I nodded.

What Baba said was revelational. It was as if a light bulb went off in my head. My mind felt like it was under lock and key previously, and suddenly I had been liberated.