Dambe
Editor Underground
Adegboyega Oshodi
As she flicked through the letters, a small, handwritten envelope caught her attention and her heart began to thump.
“Oluren.” Mother whispered, it was a difficult attempt to call out her son, her only son that wouldn’t even hurt a mosquito. Her hands were shaking, with her mind racing across her 18 years of life with Oluren to find a reason for such a decision.
‘O-Oluren.’ Another gradual attempt in calling him, it’s not enough, Oluren was just outside the hut playing mancala with neighbour Kitan. Maybe it was a joke? She thought, he has always been one to hide her favourite elkan beads, or even cry fire but this? This seems too far!
“Oluren!” She finally gathered enough strength to call out to her son, a calling that would be enough to wake the great Gods above. Oluren, startled by her mother’s scream, bolted through the beads-covered door of her hut to see her.
“O-Oluren y-you…you’re fighting Beru of Asu village?” Mother stammered, and with each second, she struggles to accept the such decision.
Oluren sighs and pulls out the dark wooden seat.
“Please sit mama.” He said.
The mother abruptly begins back and front across the hut, as she mutters the fear chant “È rù kì í ba igbó, béèni kì í ba odò ki idi ti iberu, I will not give way to fear.”
“Mother.”
As she still mutters the saying, she rushes to Oluren and grabs his small, scrawny arm. She starts pinching and examining his arm, “No muscle, no meat, just small and brittle bone!” she muttered.
“We need it, mother!” Oluren shouted, as angrily gets his arm away from his dear, old mother.
“We barely have any harvests, even with cassava seeds scraps I found at the busy market, or even the hen I stole from—”
“You stole someone’s hen!” Mother shouted.
Oluren stares at the bright brown straw carpet gloomily, “Yes... I-I had to, for you, for us.”
Mother begins pacing back and front in a fast manner, with her right fingers in her twitching mouth.
“And yet, we didn’t harvest a single piece of cassava,” Oluren stares at the garden bed from the small hut window. “I will win mama… I don’t know how b-but I’ll—”
Mother runs and grabs her son, her dear feeble son.
“Oluren, A pę ko to jeun, ki je ibaje Oo! P - please think about this before you get yourself in trouble!” She pleaded.
“My son, you have never fought anyone, you wouldn’t even dare stay in a room with a lizard, Oluren you cannot even enter a forest at night because—”
“The lizards and rats dance at night.” They both recited.
Mother gave a faint chuckle as she wipes her dried-out tears, “Dambe, a chance to be a celebrated fool, or a banished fool, you know that saying, right, my son?”
“I need to do this mama, all that doesn’t matter,” Oluren lightly grabs his mother’s tear-stained hand. “And that lizard was as big as neighbour Defu after a large dinner and you know that.” he whispered.
“Oluren, you can’t say that!” Mother says as she struggles to contain her laughter.
That was the reaction Oluren needed, he knew that his signup to the dambe tournament wasn’t going to be easy, but it was “a chance to meet the sun,” as the town crier often shouted. As winning the tournament would bring cowries and immense popularity for the family.
“I will train hard,” Oluren whispered. “If it takes running for many nights, all the way to the capital to South Erukedu, then so be it!”
“First, you need to stop looking down so much, how will you be able to stop an incoming strike to that big head of yours.” Mother laughed at the red-faced boy.
Oluren will certainly be looking up against the strongest, and most widely feared village men of the clan during the wrestling bouts. With cold sweats starting to form on his forehead, Oluren knew dambe fighting would be a huge risk for his status in the village, especially fighting Beru of Asu village, a warrior so ferocious and dangerous.
“A punch as swift as a gazelle, and as powerful as a thunder-strike.” Mother said as she watched an unlucky wrestler get carried off the circle from a knockout.
The Young Pride of North Erekusu, Beru is often dubbed, he was known to have hooked, dropped, and rolled countless opponents, at the young age of 16 years. Certainly, getting there was no easy task, as he often spent his days wrestling his legend father, or striking his bamboo-covered tree. As he was doing on the night he got the news about the fight.
The bamboo-wrapped palm tree went bam, as Beru repeatedly strikes it with his viper kick technique. He knew practice would be long today, with the rapidly approaching tournament as heard from the town crier.
“Papa, could… can we… can we take a break?” Beru struggles to speak from the repeated leg swings, that was starting to feel like logs of wood covering his legs.
“A break?” Papa laughs sadistically. “Lad, the tournament is in 20 days, and you want to take a break?” He says as he grows in rage. “Lad, this will be your fifth dambe tournament… no in fact the town chief will be attending, and I will not have my legacy tarnished by your pounded yam-filled legs of yours.”
“Legacy,” Beru smirked ‘the proud legacy of Tunde, The Viper, of North Erekusu, the wrestler so big, but yet so fast as—” Beru was interrupted with a slap as fast as a bamboo arrow.
“You dare disrespect me, lad?” Tunde shouted. “You’re lucky I don’t kick you out of this complex and leave you to fend for yourself.” Tunde says as he moves ever closer to Beru’s teary-eyed face, as he uses the strength of a thousand gorillas to not cry again this time.
“I’m sorry sir.” Beru mumbled.
“Good.” Tunde sighed. Impressing the town chief was the biggest priority.
“With the town chief present… I mean… young lad, my legacy would be solidified, with your win,” He grabs his son’s shoulder, as he stares off into the distance. “With your win… you could possibly be appointed into the chief’s jifunmi, and do you know how amazing that would be?”
“Yes, you would be greatly anointed and finally given greater rank in the village, sir.” Beru recited.
“Yes lad and—”
“You would finally be able to get back at—”
“Don’t interrupt me, lad!” Tunde roared in Beru’s ear. “And, I’ll be able to get back at Ola, The Bull.” Tunde sneered.
Beru, with his ever-increasing kicks to the tree, begins to dread the next few seconds, as Tunde goes on his daily rants. ‘Maybe this time, it’s my fault this time.’ Beru thought. He began to hum the Djembe arrival verse, the recognizable and delighted sounds in the region. We have arrived, and we are–
“After years of him cheating his way to victory, and embarrassing me in those tournaments, you lad, will finally avenge me and bring back glory to Tunde, The Viper!”
Now feeling accomplished and satisfied, Tunde relives Beru from his training.
“Go back inside and cool dinner for me.” He commanded. Beru marches towards the general complex hut, with the drops of blood from his leg trailing behind.
The main hut had a small door opening, that was covered in black, elkan beads strings that hung from the clay archway. The large collection of muddy clay pots can be seen in the opening section of the hut, with each varying in size and design. All were given to Tunde for his performances in his dambe tournaments. He didn’t have any favourites, except for the small, spiky covered pot, with the small hint of blood on one of the spikes.
“It was love at first sight, I didn’t even wipe the opponent's blood off my hands before touching it.” Tunde always roared, with the presence of guests in the hut. On the left side of the hut, was the bright, shimmering, Ola, The Beauty, portrait bust, Beru’s late mother. It was a brass-bronze bust, that instantly brought attraction upon looking at it.
“A bust as shiny, as her smile,” Beru sighed, as he stares at it. “Mama, I - I don’t want to fight… I’m tired of it… the ceremony, the fighting, the celebration, and even the people involved in it.” He whispered.
“Papa’s getting worse, ever since you left h-he’s been angrier. Even drinking that damned palm wine, being a nuisance around the village, and obviously he’s still on about me avenging him for some stupid rivalry.”
Beru sighed as he begins to sort out the ripe, and ready cassava.
“He’s not going to hear me, in fact, I hope he does… maybe he will kick me out of the complex, to fend for myself, so that I can travel to the inner lands of Aisiki as a Djembe man and—”
“Tunde, The Viper, I salute you!” A village man shouted in the main hut.
“Ah, I praise your success young lad!” Tunde shouted as he approaches the hut, with that damned sadistic grin.
“But that’s never going to happen, is it mama?” Beru whispered as he stares at his hidden djembe drum. “I do hope Lanu, The Goatskin, pack comes this time. Maybe he can finally tie his signature garment strand on my drum.” He smiled.
It was a bright, and vibrant afternoon, the sun was beaming on the hundreds of villagers crowding the narrow entrance of the village square, with state soldiers overseeing the purchase of Dambe tickets. The state soldiers were in their usual multi-layered aso-ike uniform, with their long-bladed staff, that can stab bodies all the way to the capital. The soldiers were certainly a ferocious sight to see, but the excited, determined villagers, the soldiers were but a mere mosquito in their way.
The village square is surrounded by wooden stockades, that wasn’t strong enough to contain the hundreds of villagers climbing over them, so the town chief’s decision in deploying more than average state soldiers proved to have merit. As villagers finally begin to settle down, the town crier begins his slow, cheerful entrance into the colourful garments-surrounded wrestling ring, to begin the opening address.
“Clansmen of North Erekusu, I salute you and praise your successes, we also thank you for your attendance, as we celebrate this year’s harvesting season with another dambe tour–”
A loud roar erupts in the crowd, which immediately drowns out the town crier’s address, but fuels his immense excitement.
“We begin this tournament, by also welcoming the champions of North Erukusu!” The crowd erupts into another round of cheers, as loud as a rooster in bright dawn, as the djembe men begin their opening verse. With their garment cords surrounding the body of the drum, and goatskin serving as the drum head, the djembe beat into the head singing.
“The champions have arrived, they have knocked, dropped, and rolled and now they watch the wrestling unfold.”
The chanting gradually gains momentum, and anticipation as the champions make their long-awaited arrival to the village square, with Tunde, The Viper, leading the pack. Dressed in a big, flamboyant gold aso-ike, Tunde smiles and waves at the legion of roaches—what he would always call the crowd. Following closely behind are the wives of the champions, as they make their way to the row of benches on the opposite end of the high-ranking benches.
“Brilliant, brilliant. We thank these wonderful and strong men for their attendance at this wonderful event.” The town crier pauses as he waits for the djembe men to conclude their chant.
“Finally, we would like to welcome Town Chief, Airotele.” A boy, with the life experience of 15 years makes his way into the square, accompanied by his much older wife, the town’s awose, and a pair of village soldiers. The crown bursts with cheers, and smiles that can brighten the town for days, but none as bright as Tunde’s smile.
“The young lad has finally come out to play!” Tunde shouted, as he leaps from his seat in excitement. The djembe men commence another round of chant for the young town chief.
“The lad, with the mind of an awose and the energy of bright gold has now come to watch the wrestling unfold.”
The young town chief dances intensely, with his small sandy feet trying desperately to find the rhythm of the drum beats.
“Adię funfun kò mo ara rè la gbà, respect yourself, sir, you are town chief.” The chief’s awose whispered, as they walk towards their high-ranking seats.
“It is not a funeral, it is a wrestling tournament, my regent, let me dance.” The young town chief said as he was still struggling to find the rhythm.
“And it will become one, if they keep watching you dance sir.” The chief’s awose smirked, as they sit under the high-ranking seats.
The town chief, now grinning with excitement, begins his first match rally to the hundreds of villagers, that were getting irritated from the long wait.
“The djembe men are buzzing with energy, the champions have arrived to watch the wrestling unfold, and the town chief has arrived and now… bring out the first matchup!”
The crowd roared with excitement, the djembe men beat their drums, and villagers begin dancing, which creates an orange-red desert look.
“Dear Gods.” Oluren said, as he stares at the hellish sand mist from the entrance. He begins to pace back and front of the entrance, frantically holding his sand-coloured aso-ike shorts, with a black frog insignia.
“Oluren.” Mother said, as she grows increasingly worried. Still pacing back and forth, Oluren struggles to think of how to win this match, as any mention of “match” gives him a sinking feeling.
“Oluren.”
Maybe if I forfeit now, I will only be exiled to Eru, for only two years? Oluren thought as he continues pacing across the entrance.
“Oluren!” Mother finally got the strength to call her son, which clearly startled the now pale-faced Oluren. “Akìí rí ęfon ta lee megi, you’ve already made your decision, now make sure it is the right one.”
“T-thank you mama.” Oluren sighs, as he glances at Beru staring intensively at the djembe men.
“He’s staring so hard, you’d think he is a predator stalking its prey.” Mother whispered, as she stares at Beru.
Beru was staring at the djembe men, but with a stare of astonishment. His body echoed the beats accurately, his feet twitched ever so slightly so he matches the beat, and his mind blanked from the coordination, and trust the men have in each other to create such music, as they smile and nod to one another in their matching green aso-ike.
“Wow.” Beru whispered, as he pulls up his black aso-ike shorts with a songbird green outline.
“Wrestlers,” The village soldier guarding the square entrance said. “Make your way to the wrestling ring.”
Another stomach cramp squeezes Oluren’s expression, he wipes up the build-up sweat on his forehead slowly, as he takes his first step towards the square, with his water-filled legs.
“Our first match-up is between Beru, The Young Pride of North Erekusu, against Oluren, from the northeastern village.”
The crowd cheered enthusiastically at the mention of Beru, they jumped on their seats hoping to catch a split-second glimpse of the boy who was going to bring fame to North Erukusu. The lucky spectators who got to see him waved and waved, trying desperately to get his attention as he walks towards the wrestling ring.
“My chief, my chief!” Tunde shouted, to gain the attention of the young town chief, over the large rumble of the crowd. He bends forward from his seat, with almost his entire gold aso-ike on the sandy ground, as he reaches to tap the chief’s thigh, but was stopped by the soldier next to him.
“Dear Gods.” Beru sighed, as he scratches the back of his head and avoids eye contact with everyone possible, embarrassed from his father’s act.
“The wrestlers have arrived in the ring, please fit them with respective gloves,” The officiators begin to wrap the cane-covered gloves around their respective dominant hands. “You can only use this hand during the fight, you may also use your legs.”
“Begin!” The town-crier shouted.
Beru was more imposing compared to Oluren, with his chest and shoulders looking stronger than ever, while Oluren had a leaner body that could prove effective in dodging attacks, but it didn’t. The fight began, with Oluren throwing a weak, predictable punch towards Beru, which was dodged easily. In an instant, Oluren threw a back-hand strike, which Beru dodged again.
“Are you serious?” Beru asked. “Who do you take me for?” He lands a quick kick straight to Oluren’s abdomen.
Oluren wheezed, as he limps around the ring, protecting his abdomen. The crowd went wild, with every kick Beru threw at Oluren’s abdomen, almost as if he was teasing him.
With every short, shallow breath, Oluren’s mind raced all around his 18 years of life to find a reason for such a drastic, irrational decision for choosing to be in this fight. He struggled to get hold of his now foreign legs, as it drags through the sandy ground beneath him.
“You’re wasting my time… you’re wasting the time of the town-chief, and you’re wasting the hundreds of fans' time.” Beru said, now completely loose and carefree, with legs hopping like grasshoppers, but constant kicks that felt like the charge of a bull.
I don’t know if I can survive another kick Oluren thought. He struggles to coordinate his body together, like a commander to his legion, his abdomen hurts, his eyes can’t keep up with Beru’s insect-like movements, his mother’s cries are ringing in his ears, it seems that in any second Oluren could lose consciousness and collapse.
“Townchief!”
“Father?” Beru said, as Tunde still tries to get the chief’s attention, with everyone’s attention on the match.
The young chief looks disinterested, as he smiles and talks with his escorts. But, he finally notices Tunde when he falls face flat to the right of the high-ranking seats. He gets up, with an unconcerned look.
“Townchief… I hail you, sir!” Tunde shouted as he bows in front of the chief.
The town chief bursts into laughter, as he points at the panting, bowing Tunde.
“You try and talk to me, while your only son fights.”
“To hell with the fight, he is going to win anyway.” Tunde said.
Beru, completely shocked, doesn’t notice the surprise attack Oluren launched, at his right rear. The attack is sloppy, and still predictable, as Beru counters with a right hook, right on Oluren’s jaw, that stunned him.
“What a punch, another one would surely put this match to rest.” The town-crier cried.
Beru, now disinterested in the fight, stands with a grin on his face, as he stares at his father, still bowing down to the laughing 15-year-old chief.
“I’m done!” Beru shouted for all the spectators to hear, and walked out of the square, leaving a badly beaten Oluren in the ring alone. He rips out the songbird insignia from his shorts and kisses it.
“Omo ti a o ko, ni yo gbe ile ti ako ta, why should I serve a bleating ram, when I am a songbird?” He chuckled, as he looks at the approving grinning faces of the djembe men.
There was a pin-drop silence in the square, with all eyes following Beru with shock. The spectators began to grow in agitation, as they shouted reckless words, like Ode or Fool which eventually brought the spectators to attempt to rush into the village square before they were calmed down by the imposing soldiers.
“T-the winner of the fight is Oluren!” The town-crier shouted, as he tried to convince himself of the result.
The World Of Aisiki Glossary
A currently updating terminology and guide, for the many cultures and the foreign explanations of Aisiki, which can be referred to help with understanding.
A
Asu - South-western North Erukusu village.
A pę ko to jeun, ki je ibaje - “The person who eats late, will not eat spoil or rotten food,” a proverb that stresses the importance of patience in any situation before acting on it.
Akìí rí ęfon ta lee megi - “One is not chanced to shoot a bull twice,” a proverb stressing the importance of making the right decision and making sure its the right one.
Adię funfun kò mo ara rè la gbà - “The white chicken does not realize its age,” a proverb that signals the need for respect for oneself.
Aisiki - The known world of “prosperity,” where all stories and adventures are set in.
Aso-ike - A vibrant, colourful garments typically worn in the eastern regions of Aisiki, colours known to show deep meaning to ones self or a situation.
Awose - A highly educated and respected scholar, that is requires to serve on an ruling council, they can also serve as guides or regents for young rulers.
B
Brass - A highly valuable material that is used in art, and architecture.
Bronze - A highly valuable material that is used in art, and architecture.
Bust - A portrait statue, that is typically made of brass, bronze or clay.
Bead - Small, decorative stone objects that can be used in fashion, architecture or trade.
C
Cowries - A sea snail shell that is used as currency in the known world of Aisiki, also generally known as a symbol of wealth and power.
Clan - A specific region, where a tightly knitted culture forms a self-governing state.
Complex - An estate, consisting of two or more huts of a family.
Clay - Valuable soil material, that serves many purposes, such as pottery, architecture and data memory. Another symbol of power, and prestige. They can also be used to record history.
Cassava - Edible root plant, that is typically grown in the eastern region of Aisiki.
Champion - Prestigious dambe wrestler, that has won multiple bouts or participated in the great games.
D
Dambe - Prestigious wrestling sport, that involves two fighters, with their dominant hand covered in cane gloves, fighting to submission. The loser would be exiled to Esu, for participating in such activity, but the winner would be greatly rewarded.
Djembe - A musical travelling band of talking-drum players, that travel around the lands of Aisiki, spreading the love of music and good fortune.
E
Edu - An eternal war clan in the northern region of Aisiki. Clansmen are said to be constantly at war with northern barbarian clans.
Erukusu - A island clan in the eastern region of Aisiki, currently split into two islands (North Erukusu, South Erukusu) from a war splitting.
È rù kì í ba igbó, béèni kì í ba odò ki idi ti iberu - “The forest knows no fear, the river knowns no fear, so why fear?” A proverb chant, that is often repeated in times of anxiety or fear.
Elkan - Common beads found in the coastlines of the South-Eastern regions of Aisiki.
Ęgbę - A duchy group of clans, ruled by a Baron.
H
Hut - Small, simple clay-shaped houses that clansmen live in.
J
Jifunmi - A travel team of a clan, led by a town chief, they are created during the year of the great games, and they travel to Ubuntu to take part in it.
M
Mancala - A two-person board game of “capturing” and “sowing” of seeds, originated from the northern regions of Aisiki.
O
Ode - “Stupid person”
Omo ti a o ko ,ni yo gbe ile ti ako ta - “The child you refuse to train today, will throw away the riches you kept for tomorrow,” a proverb often said to parents when guiding children to their ambitions. If you don’t, they will disregard whatever you teach them.
P
Pot - Earthy container, that symbolises wealth and prestige, can be used in ritual and storing purposes.
Palm - Tree found in the western regions of Aisiki, that can be used to create wine, oil and various other purposes.
T
Town-crier - An informant, news board, or commentator of a village, that is used in spreading important information, or rallying villagers for meetings.
Town-Chief - Hereditary political leader of a clan.
V
Village - A town or smaller community, in a clan.