Praise Poetry

My mother in law arrived to Auckland last Tuesday.

It's been drama of shakespearean proportions to get her here a la immigration New Zealand. But the important thing is that after a 36 hour journey which included 28 hours of flying time, 3 stops and endless cups of airline tea, she arrived safe and sound to the Auckland international airport.

The tiger cub and I were on hand to welcome her at the airport and it was very moving to see her take Anjola, go down on her knees and give thanks and adoration to God Almighty. I guess the sight, sound and feel of your first grandchild on your breast will do that to a person.

A few friends I had been excitedly telling about the impending visit had asked me rather cheekily how much patience I had gone to buy from the patience bank for the visit. I didn't need to pretend how much I was looking forward to her visit. I have known couples who are always at daggers drawn with their respective in-laws but in this case, I can safely say there is a lot of mutual affection between my wife's mum and I. A bit about her:

A bustling middle-aged woman with the beautiful dark skin of the kind that glows, you can see that she lives for her children. Stylish, modern and extremely fashionable, she has a laugh and quiet intensity to her that creates a connection between her and individuals who have been a bit over-pampered by their mothers.

She also has a command of the Yoruba language that I stand in awe of.

People my age and generation, especially of the middle urban class in Nigeria while mostly bilingual, sometimes still struggle with our mother tongue. Take me for example. I speak Yoruba fluently-ish. I can read it fairly well, a bit haltingly and with only occasional mis-pronunciations and I am unable to write it with the correct inflection marks and phonetic sounds. And besides the variation of Yoruba I speak is the 'bastard' version. The marketplace Yoruba which is spoken and used by the different sub-groups.

I almost exclusively think in English as well.

No surprise there as living in New Zealand, surrounded by English speakers, working, communicating and reading (writing) in English, it becomes normal to start to think in English. Back home in Nigeria, surrounded by more people speaking Yoruba, one starts to think (as well as interchangeably speak) in both languages which is perfect for a growing tiger cub to pick up both languages.

So one of the first requests I made to my mother-in-law was for her to speak exclusively to the cub in Yoruba. She's only here for a short time but my cub is at the stage where he is actively interacting with his environment. Everything... and I mean EVERYTHING is this intensely interesting phenonenom to explore. And stick in his drooly mouth. You can almost see the synapses firing away in his brain (and being extinguished when we sit him down in front of the E! channel).

So I reckon we better make the best of my mother-in-laws presence here and get some Yoruba lessons in at this stage. I mean, you should hear my mother-in-law pray in Yoruba. It's one of those goose-pimples, shivers along the back, head swelling experiences. And its a skill Tope and I can only dream of having.

Of course, we will make every effort to continue his Yoruba education when his grandmother leaves but for the reasons above, this will not come easily or naturally to us. One thing she will leave for us however is the tiger cub's Oriki!

A cultural phenomenom among the Yoruba in South-west Nigeria, a person's oriki consists of the achievements of a prominent ancestor; the portents of achievements to come and; recording of achievments actually made.

By the above definition, an oriki is therefore a constantly fluid and updated piece of work. Usually rendered in poetry, it is sung as a sign of praise and is a favorite for grand parents especially to soothe and encourage a child.

My tiger cub has the beginnings of a solid foundation for a long and varied praise poetry...

...Olufela Anibi juwon...

...I am unable to give anymore as an oriki also doubles as your true name. And we all know how powerful those can be. If I told you anymore, I would have to kill you.

What's your own oriki?