I groaned as I dreamt, the mortal pain from which had I fled followed me into the world of dreams, gods do not dream. We simply used it as tools to commune with men, manipulating their present, past and future, but sometimes we retreat to these fascinating realms in mockery of slumber, to garner rest and grow strength.

I flee there often to escape my anguish during my captivity. But now I dreamt of my youth, long before I became a deity; a Yoruba warrior prince of the old Oyo Empire, I was the youngest son, the eldest; Eweka, ruled as the Oba of the kingdom of Benin, the second; my older half-brother Ajaka, was crown prince of Oyo, shackled by duties of state, watched me with jealousy as I gamboled round the empire and beyond, carefree and wild, the parties and dances were where you would find me.

I was not far from skirmishes, conflicts and adventures, the duties of a prince were the least of my problems, that burden was for another. When our father Oranmiyan the conqueror joined his ancestors, my brother Ajaka became the Alaafin of Oyo but he was a shadow of our warlike sire, preferring peace and shunning violence until some subject kingdoms became bold enough to claim their independence and rebelled. Fearing for the future of the empire; the kingmakers had him dethroned and to my misfortune, I was called back home to sit on the throne of Oyo.

I gave the empire what she craved, conquest’’ I crushed the rebellions and my campaigns ate up every tribe that dared to face my rampaging war-boys. They were stamped flat till there was no country powerful enough to halt the might of the Oyo cavalries. The tribesmen were subdued as dried reeds bends before the harmattan wind as I stand astride the savannah, a colossus amidst men, I earned my glory, moving out from under my illustrious father’s enormous shadow until I have dipped Oshe; my double bladed battle axe into the sea, I returned back to the capital.

Power as the elders says intoxicates, for with greater power I became a tyrant. With no one bold enough to give battle I became bored and restless, for I had no patient for the wiles of court, I craved more power, for I already possess the power of men, I also longed for the supernatural might’s of the Orishas (deities). I employed powerful herbalists to make charms for me, I bathed with and drank magic draughts till I almost lost my humanity, I became insane with power, an offending noble was swiftly punished by hurling lightning bolts down on his or her compound, for ‘Ara’ the spirit of thunder was the first element that bowed to my will, for it came in form of a thunder stone which I threw at my enemies at will, earning me the name Jakuta; (hurler of stones), ‘‘Iji; the element of storms came willingly for I used it quite often, with it doing what it does best with enthusiastic glee, I became a god king and all trembled at my name but still, I wanted more, and that began my undoing.

‘Ina’, the fire element was the most unbalanced of it's kind for it burns friends and foes regardless, still I thirsted after it for I sent my slaves to the wild countries of Bariba to seek this element at the cost of their lives.

They brought it, simply because Ina itself was curious and wanted to meet the foolhardy mortal that wanted it for himself. I was no mean mortal, for I am the demigod great grandson of the legendary Oduduwa. I bent the element to my will, my fame spread far and wide for my bards used to end my Oríkì (eulogy) with the word (ina löju ina lénu) meaning the lord with the fiery eyes whose spittle’s are flames. Alas, I became like Ina itself, not recognizing friend from foe, for in a bout of rage I accidently set fire to my palace and half the capital.

My wives and children were killed in the great fire and I was left with the three that accompanied me to the hilltop behind my palace. My first wife Oshun, her rival Oba and my favorite, Oya, as beautiful as the harmattan dusk. Mildly rebuked, I rebuilt my palace and Oyo-ile, the capital city and then settled down to my duties for a while till my restless spirit betrayed me again.

By then my subjects have had enough and revolted, for they groaned under my heavy hand, the OyoMesi; the council of nobles rejected me as they have rejected my brother, but this time around they sent me a calabash, in it was a parrot egg, the symbol of total rejection. Meaning the entire people of Oyo has rejected me and I should go to sleep (for Yoruba kings do not die).

Mad with rage, I refused to neither commit ritual suicide nor leave the throne. I told them to do their worst, then a civil war began that almost destroyed the empire from within, I poured out the blood of my loyal warriors like water as the capital became like a city of the dead. finally, the deities interfered and Obatala; the lord in white cloths, cured me of my madness and gave me back my lost humanity, my eyes was as one opened after darkness and I saw the carnage I had wreaked on my land and people, ashamed at what I have done, I agreed to vacate the throne for my brother Ajaka and left the city forever.

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Towards the land of my mother, a princess of the Tapa in Nupe country, I headed for exile with my three wives, the remnant of my warriors and my slaves, but the shame of disgrace and fear of moving to a strange land overcame love and duty, for my followers deserted me, leaving in twos and threes until I was left with my wives.

Dejected, I called my wives and told them to go back to Oyo and to their families for there they had much to live for than in a foreign land with me, at first they refused and vowed to go wherever I go till I commanded them as their lord and master to return to Oyo, Oshun and Oba my first and second wives after shedding many a tear obeyed me and returned to the city, but Oya my beloved; dark as dawn graceful as the gazelle refused to turn back and told me to do my worst, inwardly grateful at heart for this act of love and loyalty I continued on my journey and Oya followed. It wasn’t long before the perils of the journey began to gain on Oya, with fear on her soft brown eyes she begged me to return with her to Oyo, the wild country of the Tapa was no safe place for a foreigner, even for a disgraced emperor.

But for the stubborn proud blood of my race I told her I would not return but she could if she wanted, with great tears of regret and shame she also turned on the road back.

My brave Oya, the last to turn her back. I blamed her not, for it was a great shame indeed to be buried away from the land of our forebears, I continued alone for a while till I also felt the same shame they felt after how great I had risen to become an exile in my mother’s land, the road to shame and the escape of death stared me in the eye.

I decided to commit suicide than bare the shame. But all the powers I had procured finally came mocking for poison would not kill me and steel refused to open the skin to my heart, despairing I sought out nearby trees to hang. Alas the trees broke under my weight till I begged a certain Ayan tree to hold me till I had breath my last and it would be renowned forever, Ayan agreed and I climbed the great tree in relief.

Obatala the sculpturer, king in white cloths, Oba of the Orishas, appeared; accompanied by the elder gods. Orunmilla the provider of knowledge and the custodian of the Ifá oracle, Olokun the sea king and Orisha Oko the ancient earth, stood watching my futile efforts to commit suicide. He asked me what I was doing, in despair I cursed the Orisha hoping they would strike me down and end my misery, the King deity simply smiled and told me to cease my efforts for I cannot die.

For in my numerous drinking of portions and draughts in my pursuit of power I swallowed AgboAiku, the herb of undying itself unknowingly for Lanroye the trickster god disguised as a human herbalist gave it to me for purpose known to him, in anger, the Orishas raged at the audacity of the mortal king and Ogun the deity of war and iron was sent to pluck me from my lofty throne but for once the blacksmith god hesitated and told the others to look at me more closely, Orunmilla read my destiny and saw that I had dominion over the violent elements, the wild feral elements that for centuries no god or man could control, then the gods decided to watch me carefully but Lanroye had more plans, for he was the one suggesting lusty thoughts to my mind as I hungered after more power until I have swallowed Ina the element of fire and became neither god nor man.

Then the king deity proposed for me to join his brother Oduduwa, my great grandfather at Orun Alakeji the beyond, the invisible realm of the Orishas and became the custodian of these elements I had swallowed and walk amidst the Orisha forever, I accepted and ascended with them thus became a god.

My beautiful Oya, filled with shame for deserting me returned in hope of overtaking me saw the rope with which I wanted to hang on the Ayan tree. Feared the worst and in despair she took her life, I begged the Orishas to save her, they did and I took her with me.

Oshun my first wife in shame could not return to Oyo committed suicide at Oshogbo, Yemoja the mother of all waters took pity on her and changed her to the river Oshun, Oba her eternal rival not to be outplayed also committed suicide at Oba named after her, she also became a river goddess, till today both rivers met at a tributary ever crashing with a great sound and the people would say lo the emperors wives are fighting again.

Thus my faithful wives came to be with me to the end, my enemies rejoiced at the news of my parting and send proclamations all over the empire and beyond that Shango the great has hung, my devote followers having heard the rumor that I was dead found the broken trees and Ayan the last surviving tree with the rope still hanging asked themselves ‘Oba sö?’’ (Has the king hanged?) I replied them with thunder and lightning, they bowed and hailed Oba Koso meaning the king did not hang and headed back to Oyo to proclaim my ascending with their pride returned with them.

The pain pulled me back from my memories to stare into the eyes of the hateful Mugabe who was so near but yet out of reach, I am patient, and soon the king shall be free.