TALES OF ÒṢÙPÁ ALẸ́ - Series
Bojú Bojú
Anecdotes of Childhood
Since I used to be the repository of many secrets, I must confess I enjoyed my childhood — and remembering those memories makes me want to be a child again. Now let me tell you about my childhood days when I stayed with Grandma.
***
“Ṣọlá, Ṣọlá, hmm, that’s enough for tonight.” Mama’s voice cried out from inside the hut.
***
It was around past 8 in the evening. The moonlight whispered her song of identity and welcome. Her smile radiantly filled the atmosphere, and her glint made the night blissful. I was always happy at night because I would have time to play with my neighbours and friends: Abísọ́lá, Táiwò, Kẹ́hìndé, and ‘Mọ́yẹni.
We lived in the same vicinity; our huts were just a few metres away from each other. We always played together at night. We attended the same village school, and when we got back home, we did house chores, completed assignments, and played under the moonlight (Òṣùpá).
“A, B, C” was our main song each night we met, and we shouted on top of our voices. “Let’s do Who is in the garden!” ‘Bísólá called out. “Yay, who’s in?” I asked with joy. “Yippee, we are in,” Táiwò and Kẹ́hìndé chorused. “No jọ̀ọ́, let’s do Bojú Bojú!” ‘Mọ́yẹni opined. Finally, we all agreed with ‘Mọ́yẹni and decided to play Bojú Bojú.
“Y’all should hide, I’ll come looking for you,” I said, out of excitement. I started the song:
Call: Bojú Bojú o
Response: oo
Olórò ń bọ̀
Response: óò
Ṣé kí ń ṣi?
Response: ṣi
Ẹni t’ólórò bá mú á paá jẹ
Everyone scurried to their hiding places. I started looking for them with the help of the moonlight, making horrible and terrific sounds to scare them away from their hiding.
“Ṣọlá, Ṣọlá, hmm, that’s enough for tonight,” Mama’s voice cried out from inside the hut. “No Mama, we just started!” I shouted, almost annoyed. “It’s late already. You must not wake up late — early to bed, early to rise. Remember?” She asked.
The reverberation of her voice was in my head, but I paid no attention as I kept searching for my friends. I took a few footsteps toward the back of our hut; I saw an image moving with an eerie sound. I became frightened. It seemed the moonlight could not touch that part of the hut. I took bold steps forward, fixing my gaze solely on the image. The breeze became cold and soft; the moonlight went into the clouds, the chirrup of the birds went mute 🔕, and there was perfect silence.
“What could this be?” My angst increased, my mind pacing up and down, heart pounding like one who just finished a marathon. I moved closer and closer. Now the Olórò was petrified. The more I moved, the more sound I heard from the image. I used my last courage to touch the image.
“Ahhhhhhhh!!” I screamed. “Ehhhhhhhh!!” came a scream from the image. You don’t want to know what I saw, do you? Alas, it was ‘Bísọ́lá and ‘Móyẹni. I caught them first! And the hills in my heart turned into valleys.
“Enough. Your noise is too much. Let me tell you stories of your tradition and culture. That would be better than this rough play,” Mama shouted from inside. Taiwo and Kehinde rushed out of hiding at Mama’s proposal to tell stories. “I caught you two!” I screamed.
Mama came out of the hut. She sauntered to a wooden chair, thumped, and sat. “Let me tell you the ‘Tales of Òṣùpá Alẹ́’.”
Smiles appeared on our faces. The play of Bojú Bojú faded into oblivion at the mention of the “Tales of Òṣùpá Alẹ́.” “Mama, tell us the Tales of Òṣùpá Alẹ́!” we pleaded. “Okay, I will tell you only if you promise no rough play again. Are you making the promise or not?” “Yes Mama, I won’t do rough plays again, I promise,” ‘Bísólá said. We all made the promise that night, and Mama started telling us tales about tradition and culture. It was a blissful memory.
Memories bring back memories, memories bring back tales. Do you want to hear the stories Mama told us? Then...
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