Jẹyọ: I didn’t know one could write one’s oriki. I’ll create one then. Mummy gave me Abikẹ. But that’s all she knew. I’ll add some lines for effect.

Jayọ: One of my friend’s oriki has the lines, Eleyin ẹfun, ẹlẹyinju nla, afo bi adie, a rin bi ẹyẹ ile (One with chalky teeth, big eyeballs, one who flies like a hen and walks like a pigeon). I call her the pigeon-hen. I don’t know how she can enjoy the chant.

Jẹyọ: You remind me of Songs of Solomon.

Jayọ: I know, relating people and their body parts to animals, wheat, towers and walls.

Joyin: Since we’re on it, I think some Yoruba names are really funny. I had a friend whose last name was Efo (vegetable).

Jayọ: Joyin, irọ loun npa (Joyin, you’re lying)

Joyin: No I’m not.

“Maybe there is, I’ve heard of a Mr Ewe (plant leaves).” I put in. “I guess if there is a Mr Ewe, there may be a Mrs Ẹfọ.”

Jayọ: Then there should be Mr Epo (oil), Ms Ata (pepper), Mr Eran (meat) and Ms Eja (fish).

Jẹyọ: Who knows?

We all laughed.

Joyin: I can just imagine Mr Esin (horse), Mrs Eranko (animal), Mr Ekolo (earthworm), Mrs Ijapa (tortoise), Mr Alangba (lizard), Mrs Ejo (snake), Mr Ologbo (cat), Mrs Awo (guinea fowl)…

“Awo, that’s a word I’ve not heard in a while.”

Jayọ: I still say there’s nothing as sweet as awo meat.

Jẹyọ: I prefer the egg.

“I remember a lullaby my mom and grandmom taught me. O to o, korondo

oto o, korondo, to ba ya ma gbọbẹ kana, ajẹba tan aşekun rondo, ọmọ na tiun jẹyin awo.

(Hush, stop crying, hush, stop crying, soon, I’ll make some stew, when you’ve finished your meal your stomach will be round, my precious child that eats guinea fowl egg).

We sang the song for a while then Joyin asked;

“Auntie, how does one spell itan (thigh) in Yoruba?”

“I-t-a-n (pronounced Ee-Tee-Aah-Nee)” I responded.

Joyin: My friend Doyin says I’m wrong, that it’s I-t-ọ-n (pronounced Ee.-Tee-Or-Nee).

Jẹyọ: She’s wrong. She must be using phonics to write her Yoruba letters.

Jayọ: Yoruba phonics, that’s an idea!

“Maybe I am anglicizing the letters, I’ve always spelled that word with “a” instead of “ọ” but I can understand where she’s coming from.

Jayọ: She’s coming from error-land.

We all giggled.

I excused myself to use the restroom. As I walked through the restroom door, I overheard two ladies conversing.

Lady A: Bẹni jare, ma dawọn loun (I agree with you, don’t mind them)

Lady B: They laughed at my unique name. I want to fine them.

As I opened the closet door, the ladies stopped talking, sensing someone else was in the restroom. While we were washing our hands, I noticed that they both took turns to look at me. It made me wonder if one of them was named Ojo, and if they had overheard my conversation with the girls. I dried my hands and powdered my nose. Then the door opened and two ladies walked in. I overheard their conversation as well.

Lady C: Can you imagine, sharing a man?

Lady D: My dear, don’t even think about it. My mother had to apologize to me o!

Lady C: It is ga ju (too much) for your father. One man, 15 wives, haba!

Lady D: He told me Solomon had 300, so I should not single him out.

By this time the ladies had shut the closet doors for the commode. Lady D finished before lady C and continued to chat as she washed her hands in the hand basin.

Lady D: It was my grand parents that made my mum do it. She was a gift to my dad. She was just 17 years old when they married. After the flushing sound of the toilet subsided, Lady C came out and responded;

“How can you even use the word, married. That’s statutory rape! How old was your dad at this time?

Lady D: You know, I don’t know. I’ll have to check on that. I can guess he was at least 50 years old.

Lady C: Jesus, thank you for having mercy on me. If I were a police officer in Nigeria, I will just be arresting such men. I’ll arrest your grandparents too.

Lady D: What could they do? It was the culture back then. My dad was rich. He built a cottage for each of his fifteen wives.

Lady C: The mentality of those women still baffles me. How can you be content sharing a man when there are so many to choose from?

Lady D: My mother told me she never enjoyed sex. It was just a ritual to have babies.

Lady C: Of course, I’m not surprised. The man probably went into which house he chose at any time he chose.

Lady D: That’s not how it’s done. He calls the favored one to his bedchamber.

Lady A burst out laughing and Lady B blushed.

Lady B: We apologize. We were interested in your story. We didn’t mean to belittle your family.

Lady A: Yes, I’m sorry I laughed. I was just imagining how things must have been. Permit me to introduce myself.

Introductions were made and the new foursome began to chat ecstatically. When I was done powdering my nose, I picked up my bathroom bag and made for the door. As I stepped out, I heard lady D declare, “I have told my children that they will not partake in the sin of legal adultery called polygamy. Awọn ọmọ mi o kin s’olori buruku. Ori rere lori wọn.” (My children do not have bad destiny, they have good destiny).

That reminded me of a Yoruba song I knew;

Ori rere lori mi o, ori rere

Mo ti kekere mọşẹ Oluwa, ori rere

Mo si tun dagba sinu imọlẹ, ori rere

Ato bajaye ọmọ Maria, ori rere

Ni yio ma tọ mi wa o, ire

Ni yio ma tọ mi wa o, ire

Ni yio ma tọ mi lẹhin, ire

Ni yio ma tọ mi lẹhin, ire

My destiny is blessed, good destiny

I learnt the works of the Lord from a child, good destiny

I became an adult in the light, good destiny

Worthy of being celebrated, child of Mary, good destiny

Will be coming to me, goodness

Will be coming to me, goodness

Will be following me, goodness

Will be following me, goodness

I hummed the song until I got to my seat. By this time, Jọla, Jadun and one of their friends, Iyabọ, were at the table. Iyabọ had a baby girl of about 8 months with her. The girl was gorgeous. I commented on her daughter’s beauty and asked for her name. 

Iyabọ: Kristil’Ọlọrun

“That’s a nice name.”

Jẹyọ: Who named her, you or your hubby?

Iyabọ: Both of us. I wanted Christy and he wanted Ọlọrunsogo so we compromised. I still call her Kris.

“For a moment there, I thought it was like my boys, loba and lolu.

Jọla: Auntie’s boys are named Kristil’Ọba and Kristil’Oluwa

Iyabọ: My husband plans to call our second born Kristilolaşẹ

Joyin: Many people are calling their children with Kristi nowadays, it used to be Jesu, now it’s Kristi.

Jadun: As long as we mean the same person. There are many ‘Christs’ and many ‘Jesuses’.

After making myself comfortable, I asked if I could hold Kris. Iyabọ obliged me and I sang her baby a lullaby

Baruk Atah Adonai Eloheinu (Hebrew language transliterated)

Blessed are You, Lord our God

Alabukun fun ni Yin

Oluwa, Ọlọrun wa

Baruk Atah Adonai Eloheinu

JesuJays (the five cousins) hummed my tune silently and within minutes Kris was fast asleep.

Iyabọ’s meal arrived and watching her eat (Ẹba and Ila – Okro, Okra) reminded me of the 85 year-old man who requested for gbure (waterleaf) soup.

“Did that sweet old man who wanted gbure come back to the restaurant since that time?”

Jadun: He returned once. The last we heard of him was that he passed.

Jayọ: He passed? I didn’t know that.

Jadun: Yes, he passed, just last month.

Jọla: I’ll never forget how sweet he was. He got mummy to arrange real pounded yam for him.

Joyin: I was here when he arrived. He asked for mummy and when she showed up he said "Jadesola, ọmọ mi, jọọ şanu funmi. Iyan ta f’odo gun loun wun mi jẹ, pelu ọbẹ gbure. Eni lọjọ ibi mi. Jare ọmọ mi, o si bami şe"

Jẹyọ: He was lucky Mr Dare’s sister was visiting. She had a mortar and pestle at home and she lent mummy.

Jọla: Mr Dare also volunteered to help him pound. The man was really blessed.

“I’ve told mama Jade to include real pounded yam on the menu. All she has to do is triple the price.

Jẹyọ: Ha auntie! In this day and age, anyone not willing to eat iyan the easy way should fly to Nigeria.

We all laughed. I again gazed into Kris’s lovely face and asked her mother; “Iyabọ, do you breastfeed?”

Iyabọ: Yes ma. But I will soon wean Kris.

“When are you planning to wean?”

Iyabọ: Next month. She’ll be nine months. I think that’s enough. Many say I’m spoiling her already.

“Oh don’t listen to them. Look at how gorgeous she is. If you can, try to continue till a year. Breastmilk is the best food for babies.”

Iyabọ: She’s taking solids very well.

Jadun: Even then, still continue to breastfeed.

Iyabọ: I will try.

Kris stirred in my arms and I repositioned her on my shoulder. I murmured her name softly, “KristiniỌlọrun”

Jayọ: What’s her middle name?

Iyabọ: Shalom

Jẹyọ: Peace, so nice. No wonder she is so peaceful.

Joyin: I suppose you’ll call your next baby joy or love or righteousness, I’m just kidding.

Iyabọ: Unless the next one isn’t a boy. My husband has pleaded for Kristilolaşẹ.

Jayọ: That’s something I’ve not made my mind up on. What to name my children.

Jẹyọ: You can’t make up your mind what to call yourself, is that a wonder?

Jayọ: Wonder, that’s a nice name.

Joyin: That’s because Işeara (work of wonders, miracle) is outside talking with Delaja. On second thoughts, maybe you should change your last name to that.

Jayọ: No, I’ll rather call myself shekaina (glory).

Jadun: There are so many “holy” names but holiness is not as many.

Jọla: It’s the reality of our world. In the end times, iniquity shall abound.

Iyabọ who had finished eating now suggested. Let’s play the scripture game, you know, God has something to say.

“Oh yes. It’s been a long time I played that.”

Jẹyọ: Could we focus on scriptures containing the word time?”

Jọla: All right then. Only scriptures with time in them. I’ll start since I partially quoted a verse.

“That’s good. We’ll move round and end with me.”

All of us sang the chorus: “God has something to say, halleluya, God has something to say, listen, listen, pay close attention, for God has something to say”.

Jọla: 2 Timothy 3: 1

We sang the chorus again.

Jadun: Romans 3:26 “to demonstrate at the present time His righteousness, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.”

We all repeated the chorus.

Iyabọ: 1 Corinthians 4:5

We all sang the chorus.

Jẹyọ: Galatians 4:10

While we sang the chorus, my friend tapped my shoulder. Beside her was her girlfriend with the Agbayanijẹ surname.

My friend: I can see you’re having fun. I’m leaving. It was nice seeing you again.

Continued in part 4

Derbrah writes courtesy of Agape for All Ministries. Author retains copyright.

Jadesọla’s restaurant is a drama ministry of the Yoruba Christian Women (YCW), an international faith-based non-governmental, not-for-profit organization. Similarity of names and stories are coincidental. Feel free to copy for non-commercial use. Commercial use requires permission. For more information on YCW write Jesutoyin Ajikẹ-King (toyinking@yahoo.com).