Legudu river | Adejokeiyabadan's Blog

One of the high points of my readiness to visit the village is the visit to LEGUDU RIVER. The visit to that this river is long overdue for me. I had always wanted to see it and confirm the stories I’d heard about it. We are now at the shores of the mystic LEGUDU RIVER. LEGUDU RIVER is said to be mystic mainly because of its characteristics, chiefly of which was the possession of healing powers. The river at this time was unusually dry because the harmattan was massive this time.

We were told stories of the river, of which the fascinating of them was the one that portrays the hygienic personality of the river. It is believed that whenever the shores of the river is littered especially if it’s the handiwork of a villager, the river’s image will go to the villagers house to house to inform them and implore them to come clean its shores, if this is done he goes around again to greet them, it is also believed that this same river visits the villagers house to house to greet them during the festive period praying for them to witness more.

THE JOURNEY

Adejokeiyabadan at the entrance of the village family house

I went to bed hoping for the break of a great new day. Indeed Thursday 1st of January 2015 started on a great note as expected of anyone as it is the beginning of a new Gregorian year. Yeah! It is the first day of 2015. I woke up very early not because I was trying to start a good habit of waking up early in a new year, but this is a day I have been looking forward to in the past few months.

I will be visiting my village (ABA OLOSUDE) at IGBO ELERIN.

Omo ale Ibadan ni ile, ni ki loko.

It is said that only bastard of Ibadan will claim to have a compound and no village. As a genuine daughter of the historical city of Ibadaland, I am of the <strong>ADETORO CLAN</strong> of <strong>ABA OLOSUDE</strong>, <strong>AGBEDE VILLAGE</strong> at<strong> IGBO ELERIN</strong>.

Every first day of the year, the entire <strong>ADETORO CLAN</strong> converge in the village to celebrate their existence together. This has been a tradition of the family since time immemorial. The older generation told stories of how they gathered together in the village on the eve of the New Year to attend worship places together for cross-over services into the New Year. Alas! 2015 was no exception. 

It was my first in that village (though it wasn’t my first time visiting a village/living in a village, as I had spent a summer at my maternal village when I was in elementary school). I have looked forward earnestly to this day, I was going to see my wonderful grannies, which I last saw during the Sallah celebration, I will be getting loads of eko (cold pap) &amp; palm oil, I will be meeting new family members. I am anticipating a reunion of beautiful and wonderful people of <strong>ADETORO CLAN</strong>. 

So, I woke up at 5:00am filled with excitement having slept at 3:00am, to catch the first bus to the village, as the male folks had left for the previous day, mummy, my little sister and I am to join them today in the celebration. Hey! Did that just crossed your mind, that the bus to her village is timely, that she had to wake up early to catch the first bus. SMH! for you. 
As expected during the festive period, there was an outrageous hike in transport fare; however, I was willing to pay any amount this day. I can’t wait to see my extended family, our vast farmland, I can’t wait to visit the mystic <strong>LEGUDU RIVER</strong>, I can’t wait to see grannies palm oil processing sites.  I surely can’t wait to be in my village. 
Bearing this in mind, I kept my phone battery fully charged, with thoughts of different poses of selfies to be taken at the various places I will be visiting. Settling in the bus, I sat back relaxed, enjoying the cool breeze, while being aware of every village on the way, I occupied myself with reading of billboards and sign posts on either side of the road, (a travelling habit form childhood). The one hour drive from the park to <strong>AGBEDE VILLAGE</strong> was bumpy and smooth; the road was a reflection of what we suffered in the metropolis.

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