The throne.

The palace has been in a sober mood for more than three months. The king passed away after a brief illness. It was a hard nut to crack for my mum and siblings. My two younger siblings were schooling abroad when the unfortunate incident occurred. I was the only child in the palace.

It is in the tradition of the town to mourn a departed king for three months before the process of selecting someone to occupy the throne begins.

When the priest consults the gods, if a child of the deceased king is revealed as the next king, the king's family remains in the palace till the installation. Otherwise the family would leave the palace after three months for the incoming king's family to move in.

I was standing on the balcony thinking of what might come out of the priest's consultation. I got a tap from behind. Turning back, my eyes made contact with my mother's.

"Prince, what's your plan for tomorrow? Are you prepared to ascend the throne of your forefathers?"

"Mum, is it worth it? Dad left a thriving business to take up the throne. Apart from respect gotten from the people and government for being the first traditional family of the town, there is nothing more worthy of my interest. I don't think I can follow that path."

"Hmmmmm. May God give us the wisdom to navigate through the turbulent water." She offered a prayer.

The following day, the priest came to the palace for the all expected consultation of the gods.

We were all seated in the palace when the priest brought out his white piece of cloth and four cowries.

"It is time to decide who the next king is. Will the next king come from the family of our late king or from another family?" The priest chewed some alligator pepper, sprayed it from his mouth on the cowries before asking the questions and throwing them on the white cloth. He arranged the cowries with his right index finger at intervals before getting the message back to us.

"The next king is from the family of the deceased king."

Almost everyone stared at one another. I repositioned myself on my seat. My mum whispered to my ears to accept the offer if my name is revealed as the king.

The next stage is for the priest to start consulting the gods about each and every male child in the family of the deceased king starting from the biological children.

"I am ignorant. They are ignorant." He began speaking to the cowries. "You are the only knowledgeable party here. Is Kola the next person to occupy the throne of Ikun town?" He stretched the cowries for me to touch as the tradition demands before throwing them on the white piece of cloth.

His eyes moved between his working tools on the floor and my eyes more than thrice before letting the cat out of the bag.

"Kabiyesi ooo." He bowed and greeted me.

Everyone except my mother went on their knees to follow suit. This was all that was needed to confirm that I had been chosen to take over the reign of leading my people.

"The gods are asking you for your response. Are you ready for it or do you want it to be in the future within the next seven days?" The priest asked.

"I will give my response later." I responded.

The priest arranged his clothes and cowries and left the palace for his shrine.

The highest ranked Chief, Balogun, called for an emergency meeting between the rest of the Chiefs and I in order to tell me the details of the series of activities awaiting me.

Balogun had served two kings before my father. He was an embodiment of the history of the town and culture. Now an octogenarian who researchers interview to know about the history and culture of the people, he stood up with his cap in his hand to address me.

"I am happy that the gods are in charge of our affairs and we are on track under their control. It never spoilt during my forefathers, it won't spoil in my time.

"Kabiyesi, as you can see the beauty of our culture. Immediately you are pronounced king by the gods and the whole sons and daughters bow to greet you, you have already started to enjoy the privilege of a king. Anyone that is greeted "kabiyesi" in this palace is not permitted by our tradition to greet any other soul in a similar way.

"The implication is that your response is expected to be positive to pave the way for completing the rituals. If you come up with an otherwise response, you would have to leave this town never to return back again because you can't greet another king forever."

After his speech, a prayer was offered for a peaceful transition while the people danced to ilu ayajo, a traditional drum beating only at such a meeting where the Balogun is addressing a selected king.

I left the palace building to meet my mother at our residential block behind.

"Mum, I can't do this. You mean I won't ever see you again? This throne is a prison to whoever occupies it. No freedom. My dad was imprisoned and I don't want to be in a similar situation."

In the tradition of the town, a king can't stay outside the town for more than seven days. Wherever the king goes, Ago water must be fetched along for him to drink. Ago is a spring water with a rich history in connection with the first settlers of the town. A king must only drink the water from the spring till death.

As if all these weren't enough, the most difficult of the rules for me to cope with is that a king can't set his eyes on his mother for life. Every one must bow to the king at any physical contact. A mother is not expected to bow for her son and as a result, the king is mandated never to see her again. They can talk without seeing each other.

"Kola, what is your final decision?" My mum tenderly asked while rubbing my shoulders.

"I am ready to bear any consequence. Mum, I can't sacrifice my physical contact with you for anything including being a king. I am not interested in the throne."

My mum went silent for a few minutes before lifting me up from my seat.

"My son, I will respect your choice and support your decision. I love you." She hugged me with tears rolling down both cheeks.

On the sixth day, the priest came to get my final response and my position didn't change.

"Get ready to leave the town tomorrow with your mother," he ruled.

It wasn't a shock. My mum had arranged our loads the previous day.

On the seventh day, I was escorted out of the town by the council of chiefs and told never to return again. I was escorted to the back of beyond.

Source

It was a proudly made decision. I lived the life of an outcast for ten years. Each time I saw the beautiful face of my mother, I felt elated for following the path that I chose.

Succor came my way when the government revisited all the laws guiding traditional institutions in the state. The aspects that infringe on people's rights were expunged. It was then that I made a triumphant entry to my birthplace for the first time in ten years.

I realized that almost everyone in the town wasn't in support of most of the traditions and culture but the fear of the anger of the god's forced them to keep adhering to them.

It was like a release from mental jail for the people. The whole town welcomed me back home with a lot of fanfare.