‘BI o l’aya osika, bi o r’iku Gaa o yio s’otito. If you have the heart of a cruel man, take note of Gaa’s death and be true’
I have always wondered, how exactly did the notorious Basorun Gaa of the Old Oyo Empire think all his wickedness and heavy-handed ways would end? Did he actually think he would live forever and get away with it? How did he sleep at night, each night, knowing that he was causing a king, a whole Alaafin awake and in pains. History recorded Basorun Gaa as a Kingmaker and a King Destroyer, a Basorun who ‘raised five kings to the throne, he murdered four, and was himself murdered by the fifth.’ Did the man ever thought, even just once, that he was inflicting pain or that one day, all his evils would come back to bite him? How did a man grow so powerful he forgot he had not always been powerful? How do men of power, in power, forget where they were coming from? No matter how long a snake is, if it has a head, it will have a tail. Even good reigns come to an end, least of all bad ones.
All those centuries ago, did anybody tell Gaa his ways were evil and would lead him to perdition? I am sure they did. I am almost sure the ‘busybodies’ were beheaded at Gaa’s ‘gbagede’ for their disrespect and blasphemy.
Gaa, he was famous for his powerful charms. He had powerful medicine men. There were even records of him possessing abilities to transform into a leopard, an elephant at will and returning to the human form. Who would not fear such a man? But reading through a version of his story (oh yes, the story of Basorun Gaa has many versions), the day he died, he tried transforming into an elephant. He couldn’t. His charms failed. Gaa had ordered four mortars to be placed in position to serve as his fore and hind legs (don’t laugh), two pestles (yes, like the ones we use to make pounded yam) to serve as elephant’s tusks. Then he launched into a long incantation session. If those mystery lines were to magically lift him on to the four mortars and install the pestles in his face as elephant’s tusks, they did not work for him that day. One, he could not help himself up because he was old, feeble and trembling. Two, the discouraging words of his son, Olaotan further weakened his withering muscles. Watching his father’s futile attempts to hold on to a glory that had long left him, Olaotan said: Father, have I not always said it were better you should secure a charm for ensuring perpetual youth? It was because I was strongly convinced that these charms will be of little avail to you when old age has set in ‘.
Can you see Gaa in your mind’s eyes, trying to get up and falling, repeating same lines of incantation over and again without any magical result? Power, physical or magical will fail one day even when it is used for good.
Moving forward, eventually, the warriors who had laid siege to Gaa’s residence gained access and arrested the once powerful Basorun, along with his last man standing, Gbagi. They were both dragged off to the palace of Alaafin Abiodun. Gaa was made to prostrate in the sun for hours. As he sweated, he pleaded for his life. As he pleaded, even women and children approached him to pull at his beard and a growth on his face, a face nobody dared gaze at until that day. There was dance and drinks, drums and more dance at the fall of the one they all once dreaded and pretended to revere.
Gaa’s end was a dreadful one. He was put to death like a common thief in the centre of the city, his flesh made to sizzle on a burning stake. Another account of Gaa’s last day said he was buried up to his waist while Oyo people went with knives to get their pounds of flesh, Gaa’s flesh at Akesan market.
This is history, not a folk tale. Is this why I have not met a Dr Gaa, Professor Gaa? Is that why there is no former or serving Senator Gaa or did I miss them? Have you met a Yoruba someone whose surname is Gaa? An interview with him would most certainly be interesting.
Lesson from today’s class? I leave it to you.