Read Oral Literature in Africa Online
Authors: Ruth Finnegan
It is the figure thus produced that determines the diviner’s utterances to his client. As can be seen from the table, each column of four can fall in any of sixteen permutations. When the two columns are considered together, as they are by Ifa diviners, the total number of different figures that can be produced is 16 × 16 = 256. Of this number, 16 are the leading figures or
odu
proper: these are the combinations of two identical columns. Thus the double figure based on the column called
oyeku
and known as
oyeku meji
appears as
II | II |
II | II |
II | II |
II | II |
while the double figure
iwori meji
, based on the
iwori
column, is
II | II |
I | I |
I | I |
II | II |
The remaining 240 figures, those in which the two columns differ, are considered secondary, and, though often referred to by the same term as for the principal figures (
odu
), are strictly
omo odu,
‘children of
odu’
. An example of one of these secondary
odu
would be that name
iwori gbara,
a combination of the
obara
and
iwori
columns (the right-hand one being named first in the Yoruba title):
I | II |
II | I |
II | I |
II | II |
Once the diviner has thrown his figure, the divination proper can begin. Each figure has several pieces of literature (
ese
) specifically connected with it, and it is in the words associated with the figure thrown that the answer to the client’s query must be found. There is no definite number of pieces for each
odu,
but a diviner would not normally begin to practise unless he knew at least four for each (thus involving mastery of at least one thousand in all); good diviners are said to know about eight of the pieces for each of the 256 figures and many more for the important figures (Bascom 1941: 43, 50) It is commonly believed that the number of pieces for each figure is ideally sixteen, in keeping with the mathematical symmetry of the system as a whole. But there seems to be no such fixed correspondence in actual
practice, and the number and to some extent the content of the verses vary with individual capacity and with the locality.
The practical point of these pieces is to guide the inquirer by suggesting a sacrifice or type of worship, by indicating his likely fortune, and by referring to a precedent from which he can judge his own case. Since more than one piece can be quoted for whatever figure is thrown, these are recited at random one after the other, and it is for the client, not the diviner, to select which applies to his particular case. The consultation thus proceeds through poetic allusion and analogy rather than through straight answers to specific questions—and it is this quality which leads to its development as a corpus of literature and gives depth and meaning to the bare injunctions with which the divination may open.
The pieces associated with each figure fall into a general pattern. Each usually opens with a mention of the sacrifices and other actions the client must carry out to have success. This first part is relatively prosaic; it may run, for instance:
This person is intending to marry a new wife. He is warned to make sacrifice to Osun so that the wife may be prosperous. He is warned never to flog the wife if he wants peace in his home. He should make sacrifice with fifteen cowries and a big hen. Ifa says that if he observes all these warnings, success will be his (Abimbola 1965: 15).
This is followed by the main part of the piece, expressed in poetic language and sometimes chanted all through. This part is concerned with setting out a precedent in terms of a previous divination. First often comes the name of the priest of Ifa who is said to have made the prophecy in the precedent cited, and the name of the client(s) for whom he was divining—these may be people, deities, animals, plants, inanimate objects. Thus the client may be told that on the previous occasion
The-big-and-terrible-Rainbow
39
Cast Ifa for the Iroko tree
Of the town of Igbo.
(Abimbola 1965: 16)
Another diviner is referred to as ‘Oropa Niga; to fight and stir up dust like Buffalo; parched dust on the top of a rock’ (Bascom 1943: 128) or as T-have-no-time-to-waste’ (Abimbola 1965: 15). It will be seen that this section often involves elaborate and poetic names which may have symbolic meaning. Second in this main part of the piece there usually comes a poem
(sometimes elaborated in a prose story) which describes the occasion of the previous divination. As will emerge from the examples given below, the subject-matter of this part is most varied. There are variations in length: sometimes there is only a fragmentary allusion (perhaps not much more than a poetic proverb), while at others there is a long and dramatic narration. Finally, the client is told the result of the previous divination described and thus, indirectly, what he can expect himself. Very often the conclusion pointedly shows that on the previous occasion the one who performed the due sacrifices prospered, while the negligent met disaster. Sometimes the whole recitation is then closed by a chorus which is chanted in unison by the diviner, his pupils, and the client.
Within this general pattern there is plenty of scope for variation in the actual pieces recited. They differ greatly in length. Abimbola reports several that can be recited for more than half an hour, while others take only one or two minutes (Abimbola 1965: 13). The plots and the people involved in them are also of many different kinds. They include just about all the topics that can be met in narrative stories throughout the continent. This great variety is hardly surprising when one considers that even a mediocre diviner must know at least a thousand of these precedents with their accompanying verses and stories. They can be about animals, gods, legendary humans, natural phenomena like rivers or hills, plants, and even inanimate things like metals or shells, and they may take the form of a simple story about a man going on a journey, an account of the founding of a town, a philosophical discussion of the merits and demerits of monogamy—’there is … no limit to the subject-matter which
ese
Ifa may deal with’ (Abimbola 1965: 14). The outcome often takes an aetiological form with the present nature of some plant or animal traced to its imaginary actions in the story—in particular its obedience or disobedience to the injunctions laid on it by the oracle; its characteristics in the world today thus provide a kind of imaginative validation of the truth of the story.
The sort of plots involved can be seen from a few brief synopses:
40
The actual poems and prose narratives which give full expression to these plots are of course much more lengthy and elaborate than the bald summaries just quoted. The last one, for instance, seems to be the piece
quoted in full in another source, and is associated with the fourth of the sixteen principal
odus
. The allusive verse is, as often, explained and expanded in the straightforward prose narrative which follows it.
Ifa sees the prospect of greatness for this person in a strange land. He should make sacrifice with four pigeons, a good garment of his, and a shoe.
I arrived in good time,
I travelled in good time,
I am the only man who travels in time of fortune
When valuable objects of wealth are being deposited I entered unannounced like the heir to the wealth
I am not the heir to the wealth, I am only good at travelling in time of fortune.
(These people) divined for the fat stranger
41
Who would enter unannounced
On the day the property of the dead king of Benin was being shared.
42
The fat stranger was going to Benin in search of a suitable place to practise his Ifa. He was told that he would prosper in Benin but he was warned to make sacrifice. After making the sacrifice he made for Benin. He entered Benin just as the King of that city died. He thought that it would not speak well of him—a renowned diviner (
babaidwo
)—if he did not say his condolences to the people of Benin. But he did not know that whenever the properties of a dead king were being shared out in Benin a good portion usually goes to the fortunate stranger who entered just in time. On arriving at the place where the properties were being shared, the fat stranger was given a good portion of the property.
After gathering the materials given him, he made for his native land. He started to sing in praise of his diviners (who divined for him before he went to Benin) while in turn his diviners praised Ifa. He made a party for his neighbours. There the
aran
43
was beaten, and it gave its pleasant melodies. Unconsciously, as he stretched his legs, he started to dance. On opening his mouth the song of the diviners was already on his lips.
He said it happened, just as his Ifa priests said it would.
I arrive in good time,
I travelled in good time,
I am the only man who travels in time of fortune
When valuable objects of wealth are being deposited I entered unannounced like the heir to the wealth
I am not the heir to the wealth, I am only good at travelling in time of fortune.
(These people) divined for the fat stranger
Who would enter unannounced
On the day the property of the dead king of Benin was being shared.
Who will help us reconstruct this city?
Only the fat stranger will help us reconstruct this city.
(Abimbola 1964: 7–8)
Additional examples can give a further idea of the poetic quality and variety of much of this Ifa literature. It will be remembered that each is only one of several pieces belonging to a particular throw and that the allusive poems are often accompanied by explanatory prose narrative. To a Yoruba listener their obscurity is also lessened by the fact that they conventionally deal with common and recognizable themes: the consequences of sacrifice (often to be seen in the present characteristics of things); praise of a particular Ifa figure or a particular god (often suggesting that he should be worshipped); and indication of the client’s present fortune or misfortune.
In the first, the questioner is allusively told to worship Obatala:
The sky is immense, but grows no grass.
That is what the oracle said to Obatala,
To whom the great God gave the reins of the world.
God of the Igbo, I stretch out my hands.
Give the reins of the world to me.
(Gbadamosi and Beier 1959: 26)
The next extract from a long Ifa poem is about Ifa under his title of Ela, and is remarkable for its effective use of tones. Whenever there is a pause the phrase ends with a low tone, and the whole poem concludes with the word Ela, which ‘fittingly comes in on a low monotone, giving the whole extract a sense of gravity’ (Lasebikan 1956: 46).
He made the ‘Odundun’ King of leaves, And the Tete its deputy; He made the Sea King of waters, And the lagoon its deputy;
Still Ela was accused of the mismanagement of the world,
Whereupon, Ela grew angry,
And climbed to heaven with a rope.
Come back to receive our homage,
O, Ela!
(Gbadamosi and Beier 1959: 46–7)
In the next two examples the listener can, if he decides they apply to him, draw inferences about his future fortune. The first, if told to a woman, suggests she may bear a child; the second, in narrative form, alludes to death: