Déjì Uléfunta and the silent noisy generation
By Busuyi Mekusi
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Life and living have corresponding potential to indicate the possibility of existence, as well as either temporal or permanent cessation. I called this last time the inevitability of expiring date. Before the final and absolute or permanent transition from the world of the living to that of the dead, there is a spatio-temporal order that helps to audit one’s past activities and reset for those in the future, which has been conceptualised as rest. Beyond the presence of rest as a temporary attainment of relief from burdensome realities, rest could exist in almost absolute permanence, apart from the believability etched on spiritual and emotional assurance of post-death details. In line with the platitude, one could either ‘rest in peace’ or rest in pains. Incidentally, people who die in most gory manners are also rammed into this typology, not minding the pains attached to their deaths, as if justifying the realities of Sola Owonibi’s Peace by Pieces.
Rest-taking has been conceptualised as leave, which could be casual, working, or annual, etc., with the latter being a structured template to allow a process to be excused from the normal course of action, in order to ensure that a new lease of life is guaranteed for such a process or individual to get recalibrated for a more productive outcome in subsequent dealings. This step-off from one’s daily routines is not however automatically suggestive of refreshing, as body physiology is often challenged by other internal and external elements. Notwithstanding the seemingly fleeting propensities of rest, it is necessary, expedient and desirable. One would, therefore, wonder why modern Nigerians do not respect the need for rest, not to talk of holidaying, or better still periodic medical checkups. It is not surprising that most Nigerians are susceptible to stress-induced ailments like high-blood pressure, stroke, heart attack, etc. Incidentally, the reasons for which they avoid leave or rest would leave them behind when they are incapacitated, in one way or the other. Most Nigerians invest their resources in ephemeral things at the expense of their health. Little wonder the prevalence of ‘rest in peace’ in the season of low life expectancy!
As the ‘disruptions’ of the 21st century civilization continue, traditional modes of living are increasingly negatively characterised, with the intention to sustain neoliberal influence on the people who continue to lose out in the cultural super market, troubled by rapacious consumerism. In spite of the attempts to consign traditional ways of life to the trash-bin, analogous to throwing the baby away with the birth water, there were, and still are, sufficient practices meant to regulate individual and collective styles of living, social cohabitation and humanity preservation. If religiously followed, such regulatory prescriptions would help one to stay out of trouble, live in peace and please Elédùmarѐ. Modernity has reinforced the transgressions of known public and private spaces, including flirtatious explorations of erogenous zones. However, one of the revamped and preserved traditional recommendations for resting and leave-taking is Uléfunta ancient festival observed by the Déjì of Akure Kingdom, which is similar to another one, Olójó festival, observed annually by the Oòni of Ifѐ.
Uléfunta festival is the annual leave period of the Déjì of Akure Kingdom, observed for seven days, during which he goes into seclusion. It is believed the period would allow him take deserved rest, and pray for his Kingdom. This isolation for an ebullient personality, given to conviviality, reminds us that one would be alone, at one point or the other. The ravaging effects of COVID-19 recently reminded us that sacrificial segregation or removal of oneself from the maddening crowd is one way to conquer greed, and advance one’s worth. Jesus Christ did this, as biblically recorded, for him to do signs and wonders, and achieve his vicarious death and redemptive mission. One is propelled to want to probe into the archeology of the self. The press release made available to the public for the observation of Uléfunta by the Déjì clearly indicated that noise (occasioned by drumming and celebration) was prohibited in the Kingdom during the period, particularly around the palace, with the adjoining streets closed to motorists, and markets and stores in the vicinity shut. This is understandable because the market is not just a noisy place, but Nigerians are irritatingly loud people.
As one wonders whether the isolation to be observed by the Déjì would include the restrictions of his family members, and whether the prohibition of noise is effectively applicable to the expanded and expansive space of the modern Akure Kingdom, being a fast developing State Capital, it is desirable that we interrogate the propensities of younger generation of Nigerians who delight in noise-making but are silent in advancing ideas. Nigerian youths, both ‘educated’ and ‘uneducated’, or badly educated, convert music-producing machines to noise-making elements, beyond the music production responsibility assigned to such, ordinarily. Loud speakers for them are not to be used based on the capacity of the audience, but an instrument of inscription of influence, to subjugate others and dominate the air. Some have argued that Nigerians are loud because of the psychical violence done to them by their leaders, and the erroneously because of the natural desire to enforce their humanity by shouting their ‘tigritude’. They shout even when the co-interlocutor(s) is standing right in front of them, and they are easily detested when they carry such reprehensible attitude to civilized spaces.
Religious considerations and hypocritical tendencies make some church and mosque owners to fix external noise producing equipment outside their premises, with nuisance values, that disturb not just the peace of other occupiers of the physical space, but the health of troubled citizens who naturally desire rest, more so when access to medicare becomes a mere shadow. Even though there are environmental laws in some States meant to regulate the production and circulation of noise, most States cannot implement them for religious considerations, as the two foreign religions practiced by the majority have become mere political tools for propaganda, exploitation and manipulations. For the umpteenth time, I agree that religion is opium!
The pervasiveness of noise in Nigeria public spaces has increased with an increased number of vehicle users and the use of music producing machines by some motor bikes, ridden under the influence of alcohol and drug, with caution thrown to the wind. This set of bike riders produce verbal noise when they abuse other road users, with their aggressive defensiveness and notoriety. I once configured them as terrorists on Nigerian roads. Some have also argued that noises produced during sexual orgies could be disturbing, depending on the acoustic partitioning of space, which could make an external person outside to the intercourse highly vulnerable. It is also too worrisome that Nigerian youths have also popularised addictive violent sexual intercourse as a form of performance of power, particularly in an economically and politically repressing claustrophobic space the country is fast receding to.
As noisy and loud Nigerians are, they are predominantly silent on fundamental issues that border on their existence. They are silent on critical issues, when not dumb, and blind to facts, when not blinded. They can raise their voices at parties, services in churches and mosques, during nagging or social gathering, which has little or no value, but they are oxymoronically noisily silent when expected to interrogate perversions, defend the truth, and ask for the respect of their rights. This is even thought as those that dare to interrogate the negate status quo get hounded by State powers.
As I wish both Déjì of the Akure Kingdom and Ooni of Ife restful annual leave, I wish and pray that their prayers for their Kingdoms shall be heard by Elédùmarѐ, even as the ‘noises’ of Nigerians are redirected to very positive use, particularly to reverse the many regressions that seek to sink the nation and her people. This is as losing one’s voice for the fear of death is tantamount to dying noisily, and resting in pieces, buried in isolation! My deep appreciation to all, for the felicitation and enhancement I received during my 50th Birthday Celebration. Yabonga!