EMBRACING THE ROCK; LIVING YOUR FEAR

Take me back to when I made a pilgrimage to Olumo Rock, In Abeokuta, Ogun State- Nigeria. ‘Olumo’ means all the troubles and sufferings were over!

I had for years wanted to visit the Land of my ancestors, now been reclaimed home to me by virtue of marriage.

Just a brief insight into my interest and desire to visit this popular tourist destination; my paternal great-grandmother is Nigerian married to a Sierra Leonean. My maternal grandmother born in Sierra Leone of a Nigerian father married to a Sierra Leonean. I am a Sierra Leonean married to a Nigerian. My Nigerian..ness can be traced back to ‘under the rock’- the City of Abeokuta, the land of my ancestors.

According to stories handed down by my maternal grandmother her father sort refuge in Olumo during the inter- tribal wars of the 19th century. It was there that he started his interests in traditional medicine and his sojourn into the African religion. Olumo housed and comforted many warriors, people, priests and priestesses who till this day have chosen to live in the solitude of the rock.

Every year, sacrifices and prayers are offered in an ancient shrine situated on the upper part of the rock by the Alake of Egbaland, who is the ruler of the Egbas on behalf of the people and for the whole country and the entire Egba people, as well as for the tourists that visit the rock. I had goose bumps at the sight of feathers, dried blood, food debris that littered the doorway to the shrine.

These prayers are believed to offer protection, give wealth and enhance fertility. Thousands of people visit the rock, in search for solutions for their ailments. Traditional healers believed that the water flowing from the rock has healing properties.  My visit was a soul- searching one to see, walk and touch the stone that brought so much comfort to my ancestors, to hear the stories come alive of the legends that fought tirelessly to redeem their truth and heritage.

I chose to walk the ancient path which was slightly enhanced with ladders; I am acrophobic and  I was ill prepared for mountain climbing. I was determined to do it anyway, the ancients did not have mountain gear, but they ran for their dear lives all the way up, they lived on this rock with their children for years. In caves less than 3 meters high that I could barely walk on fours they made love and gave love. I had to embrace my fear of heights to gain the most of this expedition.

Sitting on the tombs of the great warriors carved out of stone and cowries, I could hear the cling of the swords, the gush of wind as the arrows of discord flew past, the clanging of the spears and heavy metal. I could see the tears of children, their wounded bodies. The gentle thump on the ground as their bodies gave up the ghost. The sweat glistened; muscular oiled ebony bodies of valiant men reflected the glory of the sun. Their victorious smiles and lips mouthed to me battle chants for life, for growth, encouraging me to fight for success. I shook myself a century long daydream to visit the Priestesses of Olumo.

I am not a believer in the African religion neither do I worship their way, regardless I was raised with respect for the unknown and a thirst for culture and for knowledge. Therefore I met with one of the world’s oldest people, a priestess of Olumo- Iya Chief Mrs Sinatu Aduke Sanni, aged 131 years. The priestess could still see, hear talk and reason well and walked with the aid of a cane. I was amazed. I had only one question for her. What is your secret to long life and ageing well? She said let nothing or no one worry you. I asked her to bless me not because I believed in her powers as a priestess but because I knew the sacredness of being in the presence of someone so wise. I wanted to tap into a realm of discoveries, a life devoid of the trappings of the world but conformed to an innermost calling of belief. This for me was a spiritual awakening into embracing my belief, my truth and my love for Jesus Christ; it was no longer a religion but a lifestyle that I will perfect every day.

The climb to the top of the rock which is some 137 meters above sea level was a tedious one with my bare feet scraping on the smooth hot stones while listening to the monologue of our guide. Each step along the treacherous path reminded me of the thin line between life and death, the higher we went the more I felt like a speck in the universe, I could see the first church in Nigeria; Saint Peters Cathedral and the River Ogun. The clouds felt like a cloak surrounding me, I felt a reckless abandon as if nothing mattered anymore. As I went past another great landmark on the rock, the crown tree, also called the tree of life, an iroko tree, said to be over two centuries old that grows out of the rock and produces leaves all year round. A tree prayers were made on and wishes granted.

I felt attuned with the ancestors of old, I saw their struggles and felt their joy and for a brief moment I felt so much peace like I had never experienced before, I could die that moment knowing that I had met with my ancestors the Egba people. I had said hello to rock and walked the path of great Africans; Wole Soyinka, Olusegun Obasanjo, the great Fela Kuti.

Olumo rock is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Nigeria.