Eegun Ogun: War Masquerades in Ibadan in the Era of Modernization

When I arrived at the home of Chief Ojetunde Akinleye Asoleke at about 8:50 am on June 19, 2007, on the third day of the Egungun festival in Ibadan, Southwestern Nigeria, I was informed that the leader of the masquerade group, Olori Alagbaa1 had a very pressing emergency. Forty-five minutes before Alapansanpa (Fig. 1) was billed to appear in public, Chief Asoleke had just received a call from the Divisional Police Officer in charge of Mapo and its environs that unless the contractual papers of authorization allowing Alapansanpa to parade around the ancient city were signed, the masquerade would not be allowed to come out. Consequently, I rode on the back of an okada (a motorbike taxi), in company of Chief Asoleke, for about a mile to the ancestral home of Alapansanpa in the Kobomoje-Oranyan quarters of the old city. Close to two hundred of the teeming supporters of Alapansanpa, together with a huge contingent of policemen, armed to the teeth, were already anxiously awaiting the appearance of the masquerade, oblivious to the power tussle unfolding at the commencement of this spectacular event. It was an intensely edgy, utterly nerve-wracking festive atmosphere pervaded with a lot of anxieties. While many people were hanging together in small and large groups on the major street leading into the area, others were engaged in heated arguments and discussion about the expected appearance of their favorite masquerade. There was a lot of hand shaking and back slapping, together with heavy consumption of alcohol, which was invariably accompanied by very loud conversations layered with a curious admixture of the pungent smell of marijuana and tobacco smoke in the air. Tucked somewhere beyond the main building, in between some dilapidated structures, was a very plain, nondescript building serving as the haven (igbale) for the famous warrior masquerade. There was blood, palm oil, alcoholic beverages, and water sprinkled all over the floor (Fig. 2) at the portal of the building where the masked performer was soon to emerge for its highly anticipated procession around the city. A few feet away, a similar propitiation of oil, blood, liquor, and water annointed an elevated mound upon which the masquerader was to stand while simultaneously invoking the spiritual powers of Esu Laalu, the divinity of the crossroads and messenger of the gods, and Ogun, the deity of war and creativity and patron of hunters, warriors, and all users of iron implements. The invocation equally involves a recitation of the praise poetry (oriki) and acknowledgement of the long line of departed ancestors of this highly venerated warrior lineage in Ibadan. Alapansanpa is one of the highly revered and dreaded masquerades in the city of Ibadan. During the Yoruba civil wars (1793–1893), Alapansanpa and many other senior masquerades, including Oloolu, Abidielege, Agbo Ogede, Atipako (Fig. 3), and Obadimeji (Fig. 4), collectively accompanied Ibadan warriors on their military campaigns, particularly against the Ijebus and the Egbas to the south and their bitterest enemies, the Ijesas and the Ekitis, as well as the Fulani Jihadists stationed at Ilorin to the north (see Johnson 2006). Indeed, Ibadan was initially settled as a military outpost and frontier community from around the 1820s by various warlords fleeing the social crisis arising from the disintegration and dismemberment of Oyo Katunga, the last of the great Yoruba kingdoms. And it was from this location that these warlords began to unleash a reign of terror on other Yoruba communities for the express purpose of slave raiding and the control of the trade routes to the coast (Johnson 2006). Back to our visit; on reaching the ancestral compound of Ogundeji, the Alagbaa instantly made straight for a crowded room in the igbale to meet the masked performer, who would