The Family Name: Ȩsȩyin ‘Maagǫ

        Late Chief Clement Elega Medupin 

In Yoruba literary genre, Oriki is used to praise and inspire people. Traditionally, it can come in the form of poetry which people can recite, sing, praise and showering adoration to the individual or family. It forms an integral part of the ritual during great family events such as traditional weddings, naming ceremonies, house warming, merit awards, etc. It can be a name which is given to a family or a clan and this becomes the hereditary identity by which every member of that family or clan is known. It can also be a combination of both.

In the olden days, it was said that when a child went missing in one village and the child was found in another town or village, in order to return him or her to the family, the child would be asked to say or recite his or her Oriki. If the Oriki was correct, the child would be identified and returned home to be reunited with his or her parents. That explained why it was vitally important that all children were expected to memorise their Oriki. The more Oriki detail a missing child could remember, the more the chance of he or she being reunited with their family. As male member of the family, Olukorede, my son and myself are Ȩsȩyin ‘Maagǫ, while Temitǫpȩ and Temitayǫ, being females, are Ϙmǫye ‘Maagǫ.

In Yoruba culture, naming a new born child was and still continues to be a very serious
affair. They say before you give a child a name, look back to the home. Before my first daughter, Temitǫpȩ, was born, I had sent a message to my father requesting a name. In his response, he said that if he was dead before the baby arrived and if it was a girl, we should call her Metubolu, meaning “I never met the head of the family.” If he was still alive I should call her, Ϙmǫdele, meaning “the child has returned home.” If it was a baby boy, his name would be Melaiye if he was still alive. Finally, he added  that if he should be dead, I should call him, Babatunde, meaning “my father has returned.” Unfortunately, I did not receive the message from my father until three months after his death. I chose, Temitǫpȩ, a name that means, “I have enough reasons to be thankful.” It is a name that will forever remind me of the long period of waiting and hoping leading up to her birth. The choice of name for my second daughter, Temitayǫ, which means “I have enough reasons to be happy,” followed a similar line of thinking. The choice of name for my son, Olukorede, which means “God has brought in good things” was influenced by a number of positive events happening in the family after a long period of serious challenges. In 1992, the year he was born, we as a family, started to see light at the end of the tunnel and the name Olukorede seemed to be a perfect name to remind us of the feeling of the time.

In trying to help gain deeper understanding of what Medupin and Ȩsȩyin ‘Maagǫ stand for, my father shared the following two of his life experiences in Ogidi. I am sharing them for the purpose of this book as I thought it might help other people to know more about my father and to appreciate the rationale behind some of the decisions we make in the management of our relationships with others. 

The first was about Ogidi succession to the Ologidi of Ogidi. The second was about a land dispute between Okelare and Sasu families of Ogidi. 

My father said he had seen many people die needless deaths fighting for these two earthy things.

On the succession to the throne, my father said he had been summoned to the palace of one of the Baalȩs of a clan in Ogidi to discuss an ongoing dispute regarding the succession to the throne of Ologidi of Ogidi. He explained that the Ọba of Ogidi had just died and the community was in search for a successor. 

Traditionally, Ogidi has had two major ruling houses for many generations. Succession was by rotation between the two houses. This time around, the Baalȩ from this particular clan wanted to influence the choice of the next king.

He was aware that no member of the Medupin family was entitled to ascend the throne. He was also aware of the role of my father as a leading king maker. 

My father said when he arrived at the palace, other High Chiefs were already seated apparently waiting for him. After the preliminary greetings, the Baalȩ told my father that the purpose of the meeting was to support him in whatever way he wanted including ascension to the throne of Ologidi of Ogidi, if he so wished. 

He said after he had carefully listened to what everyone there had to say to encourage him to accept the offer, he said he thanked them from the bottom of his heart and that he appreciated their love and respect for him in making the offer. He then said he politely declined, explaining that it was unheard of. The Baalȩ then said to my father, “what is your name?” My father responded, “Melaiye.” The Baalȩ said, “No, I mean, your cognomen.” My father said “Ȩsȩyin Maagǫ.” Then the Baalȩ responded, “Aba jǫ,” meaning, “No wonder,” and asked rhetorically, “how can a wise man ever refuse this kind of offer?”

My father said he simply looked at the Baalȩ straight in the face, paid him his deserved homage by genuflecting before him and said, “Thank you,” and left the palace. 

Suffice to add that the unending succession dispute to the throne of Ologidi of Ogidi is still going on and no side is ready to blink. The consequences are more animosity, more division, more striving and more enmity. This has led to physical confrontations between the parties. The reality is that we cannot resolve disputes with more dispute, hatred with more hatred. We cannot heal wounds with more wounds. What we need is the spirit of love, justice and equity. We can resolve this seemingly intractable problem with the spirit of give and take and an inner knowing that Ogidi Ẹla belongs to all of us and living peaceably and happily together is our aim. In the past my family had played leading role to ensure a reasonably peaceful atmosphere existed during each of the previous succession disputes.

It was said that in recognition of the important role my father had played in the life of the community, he was asked to present one of his sons for recommendation to the throne of Olujumu of Ijumuland. This resulted in the eventual coronation of Ọba Jerome Oloruntobi Sunmonu after a protracted legal dispute following a petition from one family in Ogidi claiming that other families should have been given the chance to be recommended for the throne.

   Late Oba Ọba Jerome Oloruntobi Sunmonu 
   Olujumu of Ijumuland 

My family did not lobby for the role. My father did not strive to be honoured by anybody. He was just doing what he thought was in the best interest of the Ogidi people. He never fought to be made the Ologidi of Ogidi. Even when it was offered to him on the platter of gold, he politely rejected it. He believed that he was not entitled to the throne. If it was his ambition to be Ologidi of Ogidi, he would have seized the opportunity of the position of her mother, Tiyemiro, to achieve it and he would have been the Ologidi of Ogidi instead of Ọba Michael Ogunlẹyẹ. And when Ọba Ogunlẹyẹ died, my father could easily have used his position as the regent to ascend the throne. He did not. He followed the tradition by supporting the person that the ruling house presented to the king makers to replace the departed Ọba Ogunlẹyẹ. He would always say to his children, “Ȩ j’ǫba li idi’le gha,” meaning, there is no kingship in our family.” He was innately aware of this tradition. He never aspired to be one.

He never encouraged any of his siblings and his children to even take any chieftaincy title. That was his nature and that was how he lived his entire life. That is what being Medupin encapsulates. That is what being Ȩsȩyin ‘Maagǫ epitomises. I am incalculably proud to be associated with the two. For this reason, I politely declined the offer from HRH Ọba Rabiu Ọladimeji to be installed as the High Chief Elega when the title became vacant.

On land matter, my father explained that a wife of one of his sons had enquired from him about the availability or otherwise of a vacant family land within the village for building purposes for his (my father’s) children and grandchildren  only to be told that the only available family land was at Ȩhin Kabba, Ogidi about four kilometres from the village meant for agricultural purpose for the extended family members.

As the said land at Ȩhin Kabba was considered unsuitable for any housing purpose, my father said he had to approach the then reigning monarch, Ologidi of Ogidi, Ọba Michael Ogunlẹyẹ of blessed memory from Okelare ruling house for a parcel of land. A piece of land was consequently made available to the family on an agreed price.

My father said he then approached one of his sons to see if he could make the purchase money available but unfortunately the said son explained his predicament as he was already in the middle of an uncompleted housing project at his station and was  therefore unable to help financially. That then necessitated my father laying his request before another of his son who gladly made the money available. 

With the land finally purchased, it was beaconed on the four edges for identification purposes. It was shortly thereafter that a prominent member of Sasu’s family in Ilounkon, approached my father and enquired how he came into possession of that parcel of land without his knowing as the head of the family that owns the land. That was the beginning of a prolonged and unending land tussle between the Okelare, who had sold the land to my father, and the Sasu family who were then laying claim to its ownership which was never resolved until he died in July 1985.

Family sources said every effort was made by some notable personalities at Ilare Ogidi,
Including Dr Alfred Ajayi Owonubi, of blessed memory, Chief Gabriel Bayǫde Mesaiyetȩ, now High Chief Ϙnǫh of Ogidi, Chief Alphonsus Abiǫdun Ehindȩrǫ, Baalẹ of Idiawȩrǫ and Oliha of Ogidi, Professor Michael Ajakaiye and my elder brother, Michael Medupin, a retired High Court judge, to  effect an amicable settlement between the parties were unsuccessful.

Justice Michael Adekanye Medupin (rtd)

My elder brother was sworn in as a judge of the High Court in Kogi State in 1992. Informed sources said that during three appeal sessions between 1993 and 2005 in Lokoja, Isanlu and Kabba, Justice Medupin,sitting with his learned brothers Justices Ochimona, Ϙtta and the late Leslie, respectively, the appeal filed in respect of the land matter surfaced at each session for hearing but said he recused himself from the caser as it would be unethical in the light of his foreknowledge of it as he would be termed as an interested party. He explained this to the learned counsel to the parties and their lawyers namely Agbanna and Ayȩni. In fact the parties appearing at the court session confirmed my brother’s effort at resolving the crisis some years before then which was unacceptable to them.

As at the last time the matter was said to come up at an appeal session before another panel of Judges of which my brother was not a member, that court needed to have a look at the writ of summons issued at the commencement of the action before the lower court some years ago and since no explanation could be given as to its whereabouts in order to determine the course of action according to the learned Judges the matter had to be adjourned sine die, that is to say the matter would be reinstated on the availability of the said writ of summons.

Looking back at the terms and conditions upon which the purchase money was made
available by one of my father’s sons, I would argue that the dispute between Okelare and Sasu over the ownership of the land probably arose as a divine act of God to protect future generations of my family from potentially destructive consequences of family dispute over land.

Today, over 45 years on and despite the fact that virtually all the original litigants are dead, the case is still pending in court but sleeping and yawning. No winners but losers. There are some things, such as chieftaincy and land that are not worth fighting for.

The lesson to be learnt from above is that litigation does not pay as the past years between the parties had been fraught with bitterness, ill will, animosity, suspicion and above all devoid of love over a land matter. In my view, we should strive at amicable settlement in most matters that can be compromised as am made to understand that some matters are not comparable with murder, robbery, kidnapping etc. but in matter that can be resolved amongst ourselves without recourse to litigation such as land dispute, chieftaincy matter, family issues, defamation suits, etc. we should exercise restraint and handle them with wisdom and understanding based on love and mutual respect.

The advantages of any amicable settlement is that it leads to give and take, peace,
friendliness, avoiding unnecessary hostilities. Needless litigations waste meagre resources in the face of competing needs. As the Bible clearly states that we should be at peace with all men without which no one can see God. Above all let us make the Yoruba adage which says Enia meji kin gbѐ ara wǫn lǫsi kotu kiwǫn pada di ǫrȩ… You don’t take someone to court and expect him to remain your friend again.

I remember my father to be a prodigious peacemaker. It was said that the late Ọba
Ogunlẹyẹ would never sit with his other High Chiefs to settle any dispute without having my father in attendance. He played that role until his death. That explained how much they all valued his judgement. He was known to be able to see any matter brought before the king from the point of view of both sides and was never afraid of expressing his opinion no matter whose horse was gored. He was held in very high esteem by all the Ogidi High Chiefs including the head of Oluwo deity, even though he was no longer a practitioner of traditional religion.



Extracts from my memoir, "Grace and Resilience, a journey of endurance, hope, and transformation."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ogidi’s Quiet Wonder

Meeting Grace

The Heart That Birthed the Universe