Chinyere Fred-Adegbulugbe
The Yoruba are incredibly rich in culture. I have seen it firsthand in every day personal experiences and also portrayed in art through Yoruba movies.
But give it to Mrs. Bolanle Austen-Peters of the Terra Kulture fame to bring the Yoruba history, abundantly immersed in a people’s fascinating and rich culture, fitting home to us.
Not too long ago, we enjoyed the Olufunmilayo Ransome-Kuti story.
Now, we have the House of Ga’a, the enthralling story of Bashorun Ga’a – played by Femi Branch – a powerful and ferocious Yoruba kingmaker and leader of the Oyomesi (a seven-member council of kingmakers) at the height of the Oyo Empire’s economic and military glory during the 18th century.
I have watched the movie twice in just 48 hours and though a movie critic, I’m certainly not, the urge to share some of the lessons I picked up therein has proved impossible to ignore.
The Yoruba, as said earlier, are culturally rich, and this is amply showcased in their sayings.
It is not different from the proverb on Ga’a: Bi o laya ko seka, sugbon bi o ba ranti iku Gaa ki o so oto”. This is translated in English as; “If you are brave enough to venture into wickedness, but if you remembered Gaa’s death, adhere to the truth.”
It symbolises the total rejection of Ga’a’s personality because of the terrible end he met.
But the question remains: had Ga’a not been killed in such a horrendous manner by his people, would he still be as vilified?
Had he lived out his days as a power lord till what we consider ripe old age and perhaps passed on peacefully while asleep, would history have been slightly kinder to him, especially for many of us who insist the end always justifies the means?
And could Bashorun Ga’a have turned out differently under different circumstances?
I dare say yes, even as I immediately rejoin that fundamentally, we are responsible for our choices and fate.
Let’s start with the women in his life (sister and wives). It was clear the spoils of Ga’a’s ruthlessness blinded them, that they became oblivious to his excesses and the growing darkness.
When Bashorun Ga’a unseated another woman for the sister, Edan Asiko (Toyin Abraham) to become the Iyalode; they had nothing but cheers for him.
It wasn’t different when he removed other Oyo citizens from their positions and replaced them with his younger brothers and sons.
The first wife, Ayinba (Funke Akindele), and her mates watched their husband become so power drunk that he demanded the impossible from both the obas and his fellow council members and nowhere did we see them chide or restrain him.
Except, of course, when it had to do with him taking another wife, as shown in the case of the Nupe woman (Zeinab) and Princess Agbonyin (Bridget Nkem).
Their rejection and maltreatment of Zeinab left a bitter and disappointing taste in one’s mouth.
And this is one of the things that puzzles me about women: you marry a polygamist as second, third or even fourth wife, and then he brings another new wife someday, and you start a needless war, looking for what’s not missing.
They cheered him on the very horrible and shameful end.
The worst was Zeinab herself, who had become a favourite and had shown that she could stand up to him but failed to employ that opportunity to impact the man positively.
Disappointingly, she was quick to find her strength and voice to pick up arms over a new wife.
Consequently, their violent deaths when his enemies came calling wasn’t a surprise or great loss.
We move over to his Children. We didn’t get to see the daughters, however, his sons were not only prominent but also influential.
But what did they do with all that power and influence?
Just imagine if all or some of his children, especially Olaotan (Jide ‘JBlaze’ Oyegbile), were like Oyemekun (Mike Afolarin).
Just imagine it.
His story would have been different.
Despite his youth, Oyemekun demonstrated better scruples than all his older brothers and uncles.
Are we then surprised he was the lone survivor after the bloody onslaught on Ga’a’s entire household?
Tyrants don’t fall from heaven. They exist and flourish in any system where individuals place personal gains and well-being above the collective good
The next is Sasa L’eniyan (Ibrahim Chatta), Ga’a’s Spiritual Guide.
Was his a case of greed for voodoo feats or plain old mischief? How do you have such power and yet so unaware of it that you end up a slave to another?
Bashorun Ga’a couldn’t go far without Sasa (he even followed him to the war front), clearly indicating the level of dependence and trust.
Two factors he could have utilised to steer the brave but misguided man differently, but no.
He kept serving and fortifying a destructive man to a height from which the fire that consumed them all erupted.
The likelihood of abusing power as absolute as the one Bashorun wielded was high, and sadly, Sasa, who empowered him, failed to leash him.
As for the Oyomesi and the rest of the chiefs, they should forever bow their heads in undiluted shame for condoning and abetting a despot until it became too late.
It took the death of about four Obas and even chiefs to remind them that Bashorun Ga’a was just one among seven and that without their support, he was doomed to falter and fall.
Tyrants don’t fall from heaven.
They exist and flourish in any system where individuals place personal gains and well-being above the collective good.
They thrive best amid cowards who, in trying to save their heads, bury them in the sand like the ostrich, forgetting that the rest is exposed and that for as long as that exists, even the buried head won’t be safe.
That was true during Bashorun Ga’a’s time, but it is even more valid today.
