ONE Ìgbëtì town lay at the foot of several huge mountains, long time ago. It was surrounded by fertile plain and blossoming orchards. For thirty years, Qlöwô reigned and ruled with fairness and wise moderation. During Qlöwô‘s time, the natives reaped good crops, their pasture was verdant, their goats and sheep strong. They enjoyed memorable feasts and sang praises to honour the king. The chieftains, too, were loyal to Qlöwô and often asked the gods to grant him a long life. But the king died unexpectedly one morning, leaving behind his only surviving son. For months, the natives mourned their dead king and their hearts were filled with great grief. The chieftains were more disheartened, for they held a common opinion about Eléwì, Qlöwô’s heir apparent. To these men, Eléwì was too young to rule Ìgbëtì after his father. One evening, under a heavy rain, Eléwì dashed into Alápó’s house. Alápó was a high-ranking chieftain in Ìgbëtì. “What can I do for you?,” the chieftain asked E...
Comments