Excerpt…. Numen
One
of the past times Imole Ife came to love was the story telling at night. When
dinner was over, the children were generally left to themselves and so they will
pass the evening by singing songs to the moonlight if there was a full moon or
games but it usually ended with tales. First a riddle will be given, and the
girls will be asked to solve the riddle. Then the chorus of the tale will
indicate the start with the story teller clearing his throat or saying
something dramatic or give a proverb to give the beginning some element of
mood.. Each tale always had a lesson which the girls were expected to
understand. This particular evening, the tale was about a young maiden who
needed to know the name of her husband within seven days or she will be killed.
Ife listened in anxiety, and growing impatience with a tradition that demanded
that a maiden must not call her husband by his name but refer to him as master
until she has had a child for him and then can only call him by his child’s
name. The story teller held her listeners in suspense as she asked if any of
the rapt girls could sense who came to the rescue of the maid. There were
several answers but none got it right and the story teller sighed and said it
was the maid’s dead mother who came in the guise of a bird and through songs
disclosed the name of the groom.
My story is about our culture, the things we take for
granted here and I am amused at the way my Western friends find it kind of
strange. A moonlit night is incomplete without tales from grannies. It helped
to form the fabric of our morality. We learnt from the exploits of the animal stories,
fables of great kings and normal everyday things what our society expects and
conversation was maintained.
Sadly now, the IT world has taken that from us and most
evenings these days, you will find parent, children and some very confused
grannies staring at flickering pictures on a glass tube. They call it entertainment
and civilization. I sigh and miss my youth and the art of good story telling.
I feel the same way sometimes! But this doesn't sound strange to me at all - sounds fascinating!
ReplyDeleteThat sounds great and it is an aspect of interaction that is increasingly pushed aside.
ReplyDeleteGood story telling is something my ancestors engaged in before there was a written word. Of course the Irish mostly told of battles and heroes; but a few love story made it. It was a punishable crime to withhold food, drink or lodging from these travelers.
ReplyDeleteIn the course of time, the grandpas and grandmas took over and I can still remember one old man, who held council on his porch when I was a kid and told us marvelous tales about fairies and other wee people. But then the good sisters told us he was a nasty old man and squealed to our parents.
Lunch was pretty boring after that.
Human beings are the same I think. The art of communication has been lost. My daughters stand up whenever there is programme they don't like for the bedroom and ignore my attempts to tell them stories.Thanks for all your comments. Don't feel so lonely.
ReplyDelete