I had always pictured these children as repulsive and witless as the other abominations the men in white coats created from my blood, I was wrong, for there they were before me, magnificent and regal in their bearings, I couldn’t help but feel some pride burning through my being.

They daring to come seeking answers to quench their doubts signifies creatures blessed with intelligence and bravery, my heart stirred with hope. The men in long white coats had finally made their mistake, for my liberation stood before me in the form of my offspring, I answered their questions as best as I could for I needed to bring them to my side. I told them everything about me and everything I knew about the institute they called home.

In answering theirs, I couldn’t help but wonder about whom answers mine, how they found my body, how they succeeded in holding me for decades, and the powers behind their existence, the people who gave them the go ahead to eat their pounded yams without soup giving them the assurance in believing the soup was on its way.

Talking with these children sent back the long forgotten memories of my youth in floods.

The day I lost my mother; the last time I shed tears until I finally lost it in a wager to a gnome of the forest, the day I won my first wife Oshun in a wrestling contest, the day I got Oshe the shameless biter’, my far-famed battle axe from Shokoti the elder smith god to whom I paid in full, the blood and essence of a deity; Elegbara the Orishá of despair, bloodshed and violent deaths, Lanroye the trickster god’s twin.

My battle-axe; ‘‘Oshe’’, it was called the shameless biter because it cuts anything regardless; mortals, monsters and gods, I won it in my eighteenth rains and with it, I slew my first god.

During one of my carefree gambol across the empire as a prince, the parties, palm wines and dance festivals drew me to Ipetu, a town at the outskirt of Elegbara’s forest grove. My band and drummers, a body of careless, womanizing rugged youths; sons of wealthy merchants, sons of farmers, nobles and paupers with the same adventurous fire burning in our eyes went with me.

Ipetu was famous across the empire for its dance festivals, the beauty of its damsels and their provocative hips as they wriggle to the beats of the Bata and Gangan drums, few in the empire could match my dance steps when under the spell of the Bata beats, my graceful leaps and acrobatics have sent many a warrior into jealous fits after losing their women to my antics.

But at Ipetu, they said the men were like earthworms wriggling in the rain, for their dance styles, renowned all over the empire drew men from far and wide to partake in their festivals so I led my bands towards the town to compete my skills against theirs and pour red palm oil on their stainless record.

At first, the town folks received me with pomp and pageantry as the talking drums announced my arrival, for a prince of the empire and the inventor of the Bata drum has come to partake in their festivals, then smiles became frowns as I beat them in their game, taking the spot light from her youths as the Bata beats intensifies, the sweat sleek on my torso, Obembe my drummer vent away with abandon, the clouds rumbled and parted like curtains; it was as if the deities peeked down to bear witness to the competition.

In droves the other dancers slunk away from the dance arena unnoticed as I held the crowd in a trance and enticed the women folk with my dance steps and masculinity until I had had enough and retired to drink and make merry.

Sullen and sulking the other dancers returned to take over the dance arena, some of the warriors were not pleased, for I have ruined their chance to excel and because I had stolen most of the town beauties away from their attention they gathered to plot against me.

The Baale (Town chieftain) youngest wife was among the women that fell to my charms, joined me at my merry making as we flirted and consumed gourds of palm wine till night fall, filled with food and drink, I carried her off to my lodge as she laughed seductively and whispered promises to my ear after which we danced to a new tune.

At day break; the warriors rose against me and carried the news of adultery to the Baale’s ears, in blind rage he rashly ordered for my head, forgetting the said head belonged to a prince of Oyo and a child of Oranmiyan, but some of his Chiefs knowing such action would bring disastrous repercussions on Ipetu, as a son of the Alaafin even if my offence was sleeping with the Baale’s mother, for my father’s rage was legendary, such that he would raze Ipetu to the ground and stamp her inhabitants flat in retribution, even if it was for a wayward son, still a prince was a prince no matter his offence so the chiefs sent a runner to warn me.

In anger I drew my cutlass and dared them to come face me but my band argued caution for I would surely lose the favor of the Orisha if I stayed to fight what they called a fight of blame, thus risking the innocents of Ipetu in the process, in reluctance I led my band away, scaled the town wall and fled into the forest.

In the forest, we agreed to lay low until the storm had passed and then continue on our journey, Alas for we knew not that we had unknowingly entered Elegbara’s grove to which only the foolhardy and those tired of life ventures into from which none as ever returned, for so the people of Ipetu and surrounding hamlets feared the terrible god, they offered human sacrifices every full moon to appease him, the poor victims led into the forest and were never seen again.

As fate would have it, lo that night; Elegbara strolled through his grove seeking an unwary wanderer, came upon us as we slept.

The following morning, we woke to witness a sizable decrease in our number, six of us were nowhere to be found, after searching for them in vain we concluded that they had left for the town to face the townsfolk’s wrath rather than the forest’s.

The next day another six was missing from our number and amidst them Obembe my drummer, Obembe has been my bard and friend since childhood, the son of a woodcutter and loyal to me than would my own mother, he would not desert me for we had been through worse situations together.

Sensing foul play I seized my cutlass and decided to search for him, the rest of my band implored me in vain but I refused, swearing to bring back Obembe or the head of whoever meant him harm; they agreed to follow me, I refused, no more lives will be forfeit on my behalf; on saying this I bid my friends farewell and embraced the dark forest.