In the Beginning
They tell me I’ve been to Abeokuta, although I have absolutely no recollection of that. You’re probably wondering why it matters? One reason: I’m an Egba man, which makes Abeokuta my hometown. And the fact that I live in the neighboring city of Ibadan makes it incredulous.
So, when I saw a 50% sponsorship of Bookhub’s trip to Abeokuta on Thursday, December 2nd, you can bet I jumped on it. I thought “Here’s an opportunity to see my ancestral land, even if for a brief moment.”
From Ibadan to Abeokuta
Saturday, the day of the trip, came soon enough. The majority of the group was to come down from Lagos. They planned to travel by train, but unfortunately, couldn’t make it to the station in time to get tickets. So, they had to settle for a road trip. Meanwhile, two of us — me and a fun, interesting lady named Kiitan — were to travel down from Ibadan. We contacted each other and met up at the Owode, Apata bus park in Ibadan where we boarded a vehicle to Abeokuta.
Inside Abeokuta
The trip took a little over an hour and ended at the Asero bus park in Abeokuta. This place was some distance from our destination, though, and since neither of us knew how to get there, we decided to order a Bolt. We had to discard that idea not long after as it proved as successful as President Buhari’s war on corruption: We couldn’t match with even a single rider. So, we took a bike.
It was a thrilling ride through the city with me trying my hardest not to blink so I could take in the sights. Our journey took us past the palace of the Alake of Egbaland (the paramount ruler of my people), the Adire mall (a trade center where you can buy Adire clothes that the Egba are famous for), and several other places.
I felt a reverence for the town that I can only assume happened because of my connection to it, the feeling that this is the land of my forefathers. This is where they were born and died. This is where they married and gave their children’s hands in marriage. This is where they gave birth and built families. This is where they lived and it’s my heritage.
There was pride, too, especially since the Egba people are a major and powerful Yoruba subgroup. My ancestors won many of the wars they fought and were some of the first set of Yorubas to receive western education. Add to that the fact it has many illustrious sons that cut across all walks of life, from politics and business to music and sports, like Professor Wole Soyinka, Chief Olufunmilayo Ransome-Kuti, President Olusegun Obasanjo, Chief M.K.O. Abiola, Segun Odegbami, and Sir Shina Peters.
Olumo Rock: The Egba’s Most Venerated Landmark
The ride felt short, as we soon arrived at the rock. Kiitan had been there, although it was a long time ago. Nevertheless, she had many tales about her previous visit, including how she couldn’t continue past a certain point while climbing because she was scared, how the guides said nobody has ever fallen off the rock, and how they say: Olumo n’iya, which translates to “Olumo is the mother.”
At the rock, we linked up with other “humans of Bookhub”. And for people I had never met, they all had welcoming smiles and friendly dispositions. There was Bukunmi (the group’s convener), who defied my expectation of nerdiness and was an outstanding leader. There was Jeremiah, who was everywhere doing his best to ensure the trip proceeded smoothly. What about Saamu and Samson? They ensured there was no dull moment. Zainab had one of the most heartwarming smiles I have ever seen. Adejoke and Adedayo were siblings and their tight bond was unmistakable. Ridwan, our Abeokuta host and a good friend of mine, played his part to perfection. Also, he was always ready to lighten the mood with a joke. I found Titi impressive and cool. And Adel? Man threatened to steal the show with his looks. Tolu seemed quiet, and so did Dami. Anjola seemed incredibly energetic and Bolu Billions emitted class all through. There was another Bukunmi, who, alongside Busayo, also livened the atmosphere. And Ibukun who was comfortable conversing with everybody.
I changed from the native clothes I arrived in into a roundneck and shorts, and joined the others in climbing the stairs that led up the mountain. A few steps into this and I was already breathing hard — a reminder of how unfit I am and the work I have ahead of me in terms of fitness.
Our tour guide took us to the different parts of the rock and regaled us with the relevant tales. We saw the Olumo shrine, which only the Alake of Egbaland and his chief priest can access, although other people can pray around and in front of it. For intercession, people come with items like kola nuts and guinea fowls. That explained the numerous white and black feathers that littered the shrine’s iron door and the part of the room ceiling we could see from outside.
Next, he showed us the grave of an Egba historian, whose name I cannot recall. The historian’s family house was adjacent to the rock and we could hear voices over the fence that separated us.
He also told us the rock’s oriki, which goes thus:
Olumo, Olumo, Olumo
Olumo abelowo
Olumo abelomo
Olumo abeloro
After this, the guide showed us the cave where ancient Egba warriors hid their wives and children while they waged war against the Dahomey warriors. I thought there must surely be a lie or exaggeration somewhere in there. Because unless the size of their combined families was 30, there was no way the space we saw accommodated all of them. It was small and I doubt it could take up to 60 people, even if they were packed like sardines in vegetable oil. It was also quite cramped and none of us could stand upright.
We left the cave and moved to another part of the rock where he showed sculptures of Egba heroes, like Efunroye Tinubu. She was a powerful woman who wielded immeasurable influence in the town.
Then, we climbed up the rock to the very top. For someone who is scared of heights, I am still amazed that I went along. The path was uneven and seemed too close to the rock’s edge on several occasions. I like my safety and usually try not to take any chances with my life, and climbing the rock seemed like a departure from that. Many times, I found myself thinking “What if I slip?”
Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened and we soon found ourselves at the top of the rock. From there, we saw the first church in Nigeria: The Cathedral Church of St. Peters, which was completed in 1898. We also saw the city’s first mosque, Kobiti Central Mosque, with its twin towers.
And then came the pictures, the talking, and eating. Our major activity for the day was done with.
But then, how do we get down? I asked the guide if there was an alternative way to descend. To my immense relief, he answered in the affirmative. In fact, that was where we would all pass. Apparently, there was another staircase that led to the very top of the rock. However, it bypassed all the sights, and that was why we couldn’t use it on the way up. It was fine for descending, though. Perfect, in fact.
Denouement
We took more pictures when we got to the base of the rock. We didn’t take long, though, as there was another location on our itinerary: Olusegun Obasanjo Presidential Library. The plan was to have some fun at the paintball arena. However, when we got there, the minders were not around, which was a massive letdown, as we had all been looking forward to it.
So, we left for the Wildlife Park instead…….
…..and were equally disappointed.
It was unimpressive. Plus, some of the animals looked like they could use more attention and care. A lot more attention and care, to be honest.
There was one unforgettable sight, though: a baboon with what looked like inflamed innards. I was enraged; I tagged it negligence. “How can you have animals under your care and not care for them?”
I was wrong.
Apparently, some female primates experience somethin called sexual swelling. (Thanks, Wikipedia.) In fact, male primates find it attractive and compete for females with the biggest swellings. Bonkers!
We dispersed soon after, with those from Lagos heading for the train station. Adel joined Kiitan and I for the journey to Ibadan and we soon set out. Ridwan dropped us at the park where we boarded a bus to “Ibadan, mesi Ogo, nile Oluyole.”
While there weren’t many attractions, it was one of the best trips I have ever been on. The city’s history, my connection to it, and the company combined to deliver an amazing and largely unforgettable experience.
Would I go back? Definitely. The city still owes me a paintball game and I wish to see the library proper, among other things.
And that is the tale of my first trip (of many) to my fatherland — at least, it is the first trip I remember.
