Shango And His Battleaxe, Oshe - Season 1 - Episode 4

6 years ago

Shango And His Battleaxe, Oshe - Season 1 - Episode 4

“I have you old one’’, I answered, my reply sent him into another bout of laughter.

“you’re not only brave but cunny and surely, Ogun did not have my backing but you could, if you are willing to accept my patronage; for your skills, wits and iron cutlass will avail you not when you face the daemon deity.’’ I am Shokoti the elder smith god, he proclaimed, rising up to his full height, it was at my bellows a young Ogun learnt his trade.’’

“Then you must surely have a weapon that can defeat Elegbara I implored.”

Shokoti smiled and answered; “why ask a yam farmer if he knows how to plant and grow cassava, for if he can cultivate yam he would surely know the secret behind planting cassava for are they not both tuber?’’, surely that was not the question I expected from you.

“Give me the weapon and name your price’’ I tried again.

I must have answered correctly for his eyes glowed as he smiled and I realized I have been lured into bargaining with a god from which I might pay dearly and losing Obembe could as well be the least of my problems. From the fold of his large robe, he withdrew a great axe I couldn’t help but wondered how he managed to fit a weapon of such size on his person, a double bladed weapon of black steel so dark it emits shadows of its own, sigils and symbols crafted all over its edges a haft of burnished metalloid carved with images of unknown idols.

A thing of terrible beauty, terrible to a foe for the beauty would be the last thing he sees before he is sent on the journey of no return to report his deeds and works to his ancestors.
I could hear the sharpness of the axe singing as it cuts through the air.

“This is Oshe,’’ he said an amused look on the elder god’s face as I watched him twirl the seemed heavy axe through the air with ease, greed on my face. The shameless biter; forged in my youth, at the peak of my might, melted in the heat of the essence of a long dead god, hammered with his hip bone, tempered with ancient forbidden incantations learnt at a terrible price, and cooled in his blood, I will let you borrow it at a price, the essence of a god is my price he concluded.

“And if I could not get it?” I countered.

“Then your life will be collateral’’, he answered calmly like he was mentioning the price of a goat.