Now, Wole and Alake have gone near Iyaagbebi’s hut-cum-shrine. The hut was small and square-shaped, painted white, having old, rusted zinc as roof sheets.
Because of the long distant walk from the maternity to Iyaagbebi’s hut, which was situated at the outskirt of the village, Alake felt more pregnancy pain and became weary.
Immediately Iyaagbebi saw them through her window, she came out to give hand to Wole in getting Alake into her hut. They made Alake lied down in one bamboo bed, facing up. Wole prostrated flat and greeted Iyaagbebi.
"Good day to you wise one, may your days be long.’’
Now a woman of about 65, Iyaagbebi was of moderate height, plump and light in complexion. She looked younger than her age. Her hair was plaited into thick cornrows. Around her waist was a long white wrapper which covered her ankles to her chest, leaving her shoulders bare. There were heavy rows of cowry shells around her wrists, neck and ankles. Wherever she went, the cowries and beads rippled and swayed, announcing her presence with rumbling noise. In his hands always, was a carved wooden staff, decorated with beads. Many villagers believed she had the magical powers to make rain or withhold it. But, none of them had ever witness the magic done before. They only believed, because they were told so by their progenitors.
Iyaagbebi had inherited the traditional medicine practice from her father, Egbedi, the late Chief herbalist of Awoye. Even though Egbedi had sons before Iyaagbebi, he had named Iyaagbebi as his successor before his death. And many people had wondered why Egbedi had chosen her, his last daughter despite having many sons before her. Many said it was because Iyaagbebi had a manly heart and courage. Others said, no, may be the gods had instructed her farther to choose her because she would do well more than others.
Iyaagbebi was a childless widow. This made some villagers referred to her at her back as a ‘hurricane lamp’. A hurricane lamp they said could give light to its surroundings but would leave its own bosom in darkness. Many women had had safe delivery in her shrine but she had no child of her own. There was a might in Awoye that the gods were angry with her for not wanting to take the job of a priestess after the demise of her father, Egbedi, hence they made her barren. It was after losing her palm-wine tapper husband to death that she agreed to do the job.
Iyaagbebi's husband, Lawale, had gone to tap the early morning wine when his palm-fronds rope cut and he felt own from the tall palm-tree, hit his head on the ground and died instantly.
Despite being a young and beautiful lady when her husband died, no man dared approach her for marriage because in Awoye it was strange thing but not a taboo for a priestess to serve two masters, the gods and a husband. And that was her major reason for adamancy at first; she did not want to leave marriage for priesthood.
"Greetings, my son,’’ Iyaagbebi responded to Wole’s greetings. And without hesitation, she bent over Alake, looking deep into her belly, touching it with her fingers and holding her wrists. She was examining her. "Your wife has been having pregnancy pain since morning.’’
"You’re right, wise one. Your words are true.’’
"Then what took you so long to bring her here?’’ Iyaagbebi said to Wole, calmly, rising to look into his eyes. Wole bowed his head. It was against the culture of people for a young person to look straight into older person’s eyes. That was a sign of disrespect.
"May your days be long, wise one. She didn’t show any sign of baby delivery this dawn before I left for the farm. It was on the farm that she started feeling the pregnancy pain…’’
"She was on the farm? ’’ Iyaagbebi asked in amazement mixed with disappointment, "how many times did I warn you that it’s bad to go to the farm with heavy pregnancy?’’
"We plead for your mercy, wise one, it was Alake, she wouldn’t just listen to me! I tried all I could to dissuade her but…’’ Wole was saying.
"Spare me that long explanations! That doesn’t matter now,” Iyaagbebi interrupted him abruptly. She added suspiciously, ‘’are you coming from the farm straightaway …?’’
"No, wise one, may your days be long,’’ Wole said. "We’re coming from the village maternity…’’
"You children of nowadays,’’ iyaagbebi produced a wry smile, "you think you are wiser than we the elders. You’ve forgotten that what the elders see while sitting, you youths wouldn’t see, even if you climb the highest mountain.’’
"It’s not like that wise one,’’ insisted Wole.
"Then how is it?’’ Iyaagbebi asked with frowned face. "Tell me, how?’’
"Most of the villagers prefer the maternity nowadays. We don’t want to be left out of the new civilization. People said the modern medicine is safer…’’
"Safer you said?’’ Iyaagbebi asked in partial anger. "Do you belief the white-men’s medicine is healthier for you, a black-man, more than your fellow black-men’s medicine?’’
"It’s not like that but…’’
"You can keep that explanations for yourself,’’ Iyaagbebi interrupted Wole in her deep, high voice. "I know the so-called modern medicine couldn’t save your wife that was why you brought her here. That is how you youths of nowadays do. If death is not at your door knocking you wouldn’t take the rightful steps to escape it. Adewole, you’re like the proverbial child who killed rats and birds and ate them alone. But the day he killed a mysterious catfish, he brought it home for his parents. Will you blame his parents if they push him away to face the consequences of killing the mysterious catfish?’’
Wole remained mute. He knew arguing with Iyaagbebi would not profit him. Perhaps, it’s against their custom to argue with elders. More so, arguing with her will delay the treatment of Alake who was waddling in labour pain on the bed. Wole decided to pacify Iyaagbebi instead.
"I beg for your forgiveness, wise one.’’ Wole robbed his palm together continuously. "We’re your children, and are not wise like you. You wouldn’t push us away now. We have nowhere else to go.’’
"Here, we treat you for the last penny or free of charge,’’ Iyaagbebi continued speaking as she did not pay attention to Wole’s pleads. "The so- called modern medicine men charge you cut-throat bills and don’t deliver effective treatment like us. But what is our gain? You prefer them over us just because they came up with civilization. Could civilization save your wife and unborn baby now? In case you don’t know, it’s the spiritual that controls the physical. Do their medicine men have the knowledge of the spiritual realm? No, they can’t only treat what they see with their bodily eyes or perceived with other sense organs, not the invisible ones. It’s we who possess the knowledge of spiritual realm that can cure your physical and spiritual health issues.”
"You’re right wise one, we seek your pardon once again,’’ Wole pleaded on, "you elders say there is no how a child would swallow a morsel of pounded yam that it won’t perch his palms. We’re not perfect. We plead for your mercy. Such folly will never come from us again.’’
Iyaagbebi limbered away from the hut calmly, the rolls of beads around her bowl-like backside rippling silently. Not long, she returned with a calabash full of some greenish liquid in her right hand. She had gotten the liquid substance from a big earthen pot seated n her shrine. The shrine was a little shed built with bamboo poles and thatched and roof, a half yard away from her hut. In her hands was also a fresh banana leave in her left hand. Wole who was sitting on the bed, promptly stood up to allow Iyaagbebi perform her duty. Iyaagbebi gestured to him vaguely to go out and wait, because their tradition does not allow men to witness the baby delivery of their wives.
Iyaagbebi dipped the leave into the calabash and sprinkled the greenish liquid on Alake’s face. She was rendering some incantation supplications as she did so. She urged Alake to say: ASE… O, meaning amen or so be it, to the incantations. Since their arrival from the clinic, Alake has been too tired to speak. She struggled to gathered momentum and mumbled the words in low voice.
"The banana tree does not go barren in the damp soil, you shall have a save delivery," Iyaagbebi said.
"Ase…O, wise one…’’
"The banana tree does not die unless it has gotten a new shoot to reply it, may your child never die in your eyes.’’
"Ase o...’’
"No one owns the banana trees and starve to death, may you and your baby never be a loss to your husband.’’
"Ase…’’ Alake’s voice trailed away out of pain, turning into a loud groan.
Iyaagbebi stopped the incantations now. She started to press Alake’s belly softly, instructing her to take deep breaths to push the baby out. The baby delivery process had lasted for hours; still Alake had not given birth. But wouldn’t the delay in coming to the midwife’s hurt and the frequent going to the farm during pregnancy affect Alake’s life or the baby’s? That was a fearful question on Wole’s mind, but he prayed nothing bad happens to them.