Episode One: The Beloved Prince

The palace guards had their work cut out for them. Dignitaries from far and near were in a party with the King, Queen, and the Council of Chiefs to celebrate Prince Adeyeri, and the villagers also wanted to be included in the party. They kept coming to try their luck.

“We won’t stay for more than ten minutes. We just want to see what the Prince will wear today,” a girl said to one of the guards.

She came with a group of six other girls, and had been hoping for an opportunity to enter the palace for over two hours. No one was willing to take ‘no’ for an answer, and the palace entrance was getting rowdy.

“He is our Prince! We deserve to be part of the celebrations too,” a young man said from where he sat atop a tree outside the palace so he could see what was happening inside. Even though he threw mangoes at the guards in rebellion, they didn’t react. They were on high alert to ensure that law and order was maintained. The crowd was huge, and they had to be careful.

“Name your price, and I will pay it, as long as you let my daughters go in to celebrate with their Prince,” a man shouted from the crowd.

It was this chaos that Chief Tadeyanju witnessed when he arrived at the palace, but as soon as the villagers saw him, they conducted themselves, greeting him respectfully, and refraining from harassing the guards to let them in.

Tadeyanju was a respected Chief in the land. He was an Abobaku. This meant that he had been assigned by the gods from birth to be buried alive with a crowned King upon his death, seeing him off to the land of the ancestors, while attending to his needs on that sojourn. His very existence depended on the King, and even his name was derived from the monarch’s name.

Tadeyanju literally meant ‘for Adeyanju,’ which signified that he was the Abobaku for King Adeyanju, and this afforded him certain privileges. Tadeyanju was not only rich, he was  also  a confidant and friend to the King, and was accorded the same reverence and respect given to the monarch. This was the tradition in Iludoyin Kingdom. It was why Tadeyanju’s presence had calmed the villagers. He was the closest person to the King, and no one would dare offend him. However, Tadeyanju sensed the tension at the palace gate, and decided to address it.

“Why are you all here instead of resting in your homes, working on your farms, or just going about the day’s business?”

Tadeyanju’s question loosened their tongues, and they all began to speak at the same time. He couldn’t hear anyone, so he pointed to a woman at the back of the crowd, who was backing a baby and carrying a toddler.

“You, why are you stressing yourself out here?”

The woman stepped forward very quickly, happy to have been selected by a respected Chief.

“My Chief, why would I be home when we should all be here, celebrating the Prince?”

Tadeyanju laughed. “You all celebrated him yesterday at the village party where the Prince danced, laughed, and ate with all of you. Isn’t that so?”

“It is not enough, our Chief. One day is not enough to celebrate the Prince,” a lady said from a smaller tree, and everyone cheered in agreement. She had been unable to climb the tall mango tree, and was frustrated because she couldn’t see what was going on inside.

Tadeyanju was amused by their fascination with the Prince. He knew he could take a handful of people with him to enjoy the celebrations, but that would only cause those left behind to start a protest.

“Okay, I know what to do,” he said, addressing them again. “I will take your message to the Prince and let him know that one party is not enough, that you want another party to celebrate him. Will that be fine?”

The audience was divided. Some cheered in acknowledgement, while others were determined to be part of the day’s celebration.

Tadeyanju nodded at those who welcomed his suggestion, waved at everyone, and departed to join the celebrations.

Adeyeri was the only crowned prince of King Adebayo Adeyanju The Third, and he was loved and openly admired by everybody in Iludoyin kingdom, or at least, so it appeared. Naturally, as the heir to the throne, no one dared to speak or act negatively towards him, but the love for Prince Adeyeri was more than just the norm. To say he was admired more than even the King, would not be a lie.

Rumour however had it that the King had a son, who was banished from the land and put to death in the evil forest at birth, many years ago. The reason was not disclosed, and no one knew if this was even true as there had been no naming ceremony to acknowledge the other boy. It was Adeyeri they all knew as the son of the King, and even though they had expected King Adeyanju to take more wives and have more children, no one dared to question him. Although, when Adeyeri was very young, some Chiefs had been concerned about the lack of other children so as to keep the monarchy secure, and the succession line strong, but they had kept their concerns to themselves.

To revere the monarchy was the tradition in Yoruba kingdom. To envy their power, wealth, and influence was the norm. To question, criticise, or rebel their authority was to commit treason, punishable by death. Life and death was in the hands of the gods, and the King was also seen as a god of some sort, and referred to as Igba keji orisa. No one could dare to annoy a god, so they accepted the Prince that King Adeyanju gave them with all their hearts, and were loyal to him.

And Prince Adeyeri made it easy to love him.

Respect and loyalty could be earned by succession, but love was a thing of the heart, and the Prince touched hearts by just being himself. Adeyeri would share his food with the poor, dance with the servants, join community projects like well building and night guarding, and make friends with commoners. He was popular, he was available, and he was eligible. In fact, he was the most eligible bachelor in Iludoyin kingdom and the seven neighbouring villages. So, when the Queen requested that the King throw a big party to celebrate him on the occasion of his twenty-fifth birthday, the request was granted.

The day before had been for everyone in the land. Food and drinks had been in abundance as they celebrated the birth anniversary of their beloved Prince. However, today was for dignitaries and royalties from the seven kingdoms, who were all there to celebrate the Prince in an exclusive party. Still, the villagers wanted to be included in this affair as well.

“I am glad we did this,” the King said to the Queen as they watched the dancers and musicians serenading their guests.

Queen Wuraola smiled and curtsied. The King was stingy with praises so she knew he was impressed with the celebrations. Before she could think of an appropriate response, they were interrupted by Tadeyanju .

“Kabiyesi ooo,” Chief Tadeyanju said, stretching flat on the ground to greet the King.

The King acknowledged him by smiling and waving his horsetail at him, and Tadeyanju quickly rose to greet the other Chiefs who seemed  happy to see him too.

“When is the Prince going to honour us with his presence? I have a message for him,” Tadeyanju said as soon as he sat down

“You have to wait for the big reveal,” Queen Wuraola said excitedly.

“We wait patiently,” Chief Otun intoned, and fetched himself another bowl of palm wine.

“Areo, must we do all this theatrics!” Adeyeri protested as the palace maids dressed him. Someone was helping him wear his shoes, another was adjusting his buba and setting the cap on his head, yet another was in charge of beads.

Areo was the palace guard that had been assigned to Adeyeri since he was ten years old. The age difference between them was just three years so they had been boys together, and grew into men together. Beyond the obvious master-to-servant relationship that existed between them, they were friends. Adeyeri could be vulnerable around Areo, and Areo could speak his mind freely.

“My Prince, say the word and we will trade places very quickly,” Areo said, a bowl of akara (beans balls) in his hands.

“Says the man who barely lets me finish my meals before taking over.”

“My Prince is ready to join the ceremony.” Bimpe interrupted the men, blushing as she met Adeyeri’s eyes. Her open admiration, more than a mirror’s reflection, was a more reliable attestation of Adeyeri’s good looks.

“Thank you,” Adeyeri said to her without taking his eyes off the silver plate he was using to check out his reflection.

Bimpe was the head of the palace maids for the Prince’s wardrobe, feeding, and other things that a manservant may not handle properly. It was an open secret that Bimpe had a crush on the Prince, and if it was left to her, they would be having a full blown affair. But, apart from one moment of indiscretion, the Prince stayed away from her.

Adeyeri preferred to enjoy his women out of the palace, and out of the village when it could be arranged. He was too much of a darling to leave broken hearts where he could see them without trying to fix it again.

“I guess it’s time to give my parents what they want,” he said, getting to his feet, “Areo, drop that bowl of food, and let’s go.”

Areo dropped the bowl quickly, but not before picking the last two akara puffs and keeping it in his pocket. As soon as the other servants left the room, Adeyeri moved closer to Areo.

“Change your clothes, it  smells of food.”

Areo smiled, pretending not to know why the Prince gave the instruction, but quickly pulled his shirt off when Adeyeri scowled at him.

“Wear something that smells nice and looks good. We’ll meet at the back of the palace in one hour. In the meantime, I’ll show my presence before the King, the Queen, and the people. Our plan is on.”

Areo nodded in understanding, quickly changing into fresh clothes as the Prince had instructed. “But my Prince, why can’t you stay to enjoy the ceremony?”

“It is my birthday, isn’t it? I want more than just this routine show. I need my friends, and a jug of fresh palm wine.”

“We have that here, my Prince,” Areo said, hoping to stop the Prince from following through on a plan that puts him in an awkward position.

“That is all you have here. I want more,” Prince Adeyeri said, and left the room.

The King didn’t need to say it. Just by watching him look at Prince Adeyeri dancing, you would know that he was a proud father. The drummers serenaded Adeyeri, and he gave them a dance worthy of their beats.

“My boy is old enough to have his own woman,” Queen Wuraola said, beaming from ear to ear.

“The Prince you mean,” Chief Osi corrected jokingly.

“Trust me, my Queen, he is doing very well in that area,” Iyalode added and everyone laughed.

“Stray girls are for amusement. Our Prince has come of age. It is time to discuss a more serious commitment with a beneficial ally,” Chief Otun declared, and most of the other Chiefs nodded in approval, but Queen Wuraola rolled her eyes, irritated by the suggestion. She loved the idea, she just wished it had come from her. It was important to her that she had a say in who was picked to replace her as Queen when the time came.

Almost to himself, but loud enough for others to hear, King Adeyanju said, “I can barely believe it myself. The boy is ready. Today is the beginning of everything.”

Nobody understood what the King was implying, but only the Queen voiced her confusion.

“Everything?” The Queen hesitated, then moved closer to the King to speak her mind. “If you ask me my King, I will say that you spoil Adeyeri. He needs lessons on how to…”

The King did not let her finish. “It is a good thing I didn’t ask you,” he said, and softened his brashness with a smile. The Prince approached them before the Queen could express how she felt about his dismissal of her opinion.

“Kabiyesi ooooo,” the Prince greeted, laying flat on the ground. The King rose to raise him up from the ground, and hugged him.

“The last twenty-five years have been more colourful with you in our lives,” he said, and everyone clapped in agreement.

“Thank you, my King,” Adeyeri stated, smiling. He looked around in expectation. “What is my birthday gift this year?” he asked, expecting some grand thing his father had planned out. Every year, he outdid himself. The previous year, the King had given him a very beautiful horse.

“The kingdom; that’s your gift this year,” the King said.

“The kingdom?” Prince Adeyeri was confused.

“You need to start taking lessons on kingship, and that starts tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded, but the Prince was confused. “I have been learning how to be king all my life. What’s the hurry to accelerate any serious lessons when you are still very much alive and strong?”

The King smiled, but said nothing.

“We need to find him a wife too. That can be another birthday gift,” Queen Wuraola said, and everyone laughed in approval.

Adeyeri joined them in laughing, but nothing they’d said made sense. Learning kingship and finding a wife were the last things on his mind. He looked away from his parents and the Chiefs, a frown knitting his brows. How was he going to last here for one hour, he wondered.

The splash of water on her face flung Tade’s eyes open.

“Ah ah, Aunty Shade! It’s not fair for you to wake me up like that. Do you know what you have done? I was having a dream.”

Shade hissed. “What have I done? How can you be sleeping at mid-day? I don’t know about where you are coming from, but such nonsense is not allowed here.”

Tade rose up quickly, wiping the water from her face and neck before it seeped into her blouse. Done, she faced her aunty. “Aunty Shade, I was finally going to see the Prince; to see his face, to understand my mission, to…”

Shade scoffed, shutting Tade up. “Wake up from your dream, my dear girl, whether in reality or in your sleep. You are here in Iludoyin to learn this our trade.” She pointed at the palm wine jars lined up against the wall for emphasis. “I did not bring you here on some awkward mission that must not be repeated even near the deaf.”

Tade’s shoulders dropped in frustration. She did not know how to make her Aunty know that the Prince was her mission in Iludoyin, and she would never have left the peace she had recently found in Nnewi, if not that the Prince’s name had been whispered to her heart till she no longer had peace.

“Aunty Shade, you don’t…”

Shade didn’t let her finish. “I am Iya Dele. Stop all this ‘Aunty’ nonsense. We don’t do that here. Now, go inside. Your lesson starts today.”

Tade sighed, unable to keep shut and pretend to her Aunty that they were on the same page. “Yes, it does, but not the one you think.” Smiling at Shade, she walked inside the palm wine store, ready to work well enough to earn her food and shelter, but her goal remained unshaken; to find the Prince, and fulfil her mission.

Shade sighed in frustration as she watched her niece go, and prayed that taking her away from the safety of Nnewi, where they had previously hidden her, wasn’t a bad idea. What was this obsession with the Prince? Why was she seeing him in her dreams? What was this stupid mission that could only spell doom for the whole family? These were the questions on her mind, but for the life of her, she did not know who to ask.

Tade’s father had dumped the girl on her, saying it could not be hard to hide a twenty-three-year old girl as a palm wine stall servant, but Shade was beginning to doubt the common sense in the decision. Tade was always asking about the Prince, and sooner than later, she would ask the right person, and the Prince, who was never a scarce commodity in the village, would be found by her.

Pandemonium loomed, and Shade didn’t see how it could be averted, apart from returning Tade back to Igbo land.