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Ashe Elegwa, Ashe Oggun, Ashe Oshun, Ashe Orunla, all honor to the Orishas.
Oggun had created many beautiful things, many intricate things, many useful things. He never complained, being focused on his work. But one day Elegwa came to his forge and asked, "does anyone ever thank you for your work, Oggun?" He replied, "sometimes". Elegwa went away.
A week later, Elegwa returned and asked, "do they do you honor, Oggun?" Oggun replied, "seldom."
A third week went by, and Elegwa wandered in on his weekly visit, "is there respect for you, Brother Oggun?" And Oggun, having mulled over in his mind for weeks, replied, "never." Without a word, he laid down his chisel, poured ashes over his anvil and walked out to the woods at the edge of the village with nothing but his hammer, saying again and again, "sometimes, seldom, never, sometimes, seldom, never." Deep into the woods he traveled never looking back.
Now Shango was in need of a new thunderbolt so the next day he came to the forge of Oggun. He found it empty, even the ashes were cold? He called, "Oggun, come quickly, my quiver is empty." But there was no answer.
Orunla came the following day, needing a new clasp for his eleke, for though Oggun was a large man, he was known as having a fine touch with intricate jewelry. "Oggun, Old Man, I need this clasp, where are you?" And though he hollered loudly, Oggun did not reply.
One by one the other Orishas came, and weeks passed. Yemaya came needing her loom repaired, and Oggun was gone. Oya came, needing a polish to her spear, and no Oggun. Even the villagers and townspeople began to be alarmed as one by one all of their instruments broke down, and there was no one to repair them. They murmured, they grumbled, but Oggun did not return.
In exasperation, they called upon the Creator, Olodumare, as even Orunla the seer was baffled. Olodumare simply smiled and said, "I did not drive Oggun away, you did, and I will not turn his heart. You must find a way to break down his defenses. He is deep in the woods, and only your most diligent hunters will find him."
So Ochosi the tracker was called, Oya went with him, and Osayin the herbalist, who knew all the ways of the jungle went forth, and at a day's journey from the village they found Oggun still mumbling, "sometimes, seldom, never". Ochosi demanded Oggun return, but Oggun just murmured, "sometimes, seldom, never." Oya, his old love, scolded him saying, "they mock you Oggun, surely your honor must be defended!" but Oggun simply answered, "sometimes, seldom, NEVER." and turned away. Oshosi tried tempting him with a tasty stew, but Oggun simply said "sometimes, seldom, never, and began to pound on a rock with his hammer until the pot of stew shattered."
The three Orishas returned to the village discouraged, disheartened, and angry. All of the villagers wanted to force Oggun to return, but he was such a large troll of an Orisha, that they knew they could not force his will. Finally, Oshun spoke, "I will go." And the villagers began to mock her, "You, the flightiest dancer of them all, you will make him come when all of our best warriors have not succeeded." "Yes, always, soon, and forever" she replied. And rapping herself in her best gold cloths, and carrying a jar of honey she set off through the forest.
Oggun hammered away at the rocks, pulverizing them in his growing anger. He had worked for years, but always the parties were for other people. What had he done to not even deserve a thank you? Elegwa was right, only here in the forest, among the animals, would he find a better society. So he hammered away, keeping in time to his own grumblings.
But to the beat of his hammer came Oshun, dancing to his beat as to the drum of a master, and she swirled up to him, smearing honey on his lip and swirled away, dropping one of her golden cloths. Oggun at first did not look up, but then as he grumbled, he began to taste the honey. What is this? He looked up, but Oshun was nowhere to be found, she had slipped away. But there on the ground was her gold cloth. Oggun took a few steps toward it, swinging his hammer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a swirl of gold and then her hand was at his lip, and another taste of honey. She ran off, a hundred yards away, and dropped another cloth. "Sometimes" ... his words faltered. He ran toward her but she swirled away. "seldom" he cried, almost in tears. She swirled toward him again, seductively enticing him, embracing him for a moment leaving that sweet taste of honey, and running off, swiftly through the forest, dropping yet another veil. He ran, as if a gazelle ran through his limbs, chasing her to the next hill top. She would stop, this time with a kiss, and then run off again. It was as if she was tireless. And suddenly the edge of the jungle was upon them, and Oggun stopped. "Never!" and he threw down his hammer. But Oshun stopped, with the last veil and touched his lips with honey, put the edge of the cloth in his hand and ran into the village. "Always, soon, and forever, my love" she cried, dancing naked in the sun. And Oggun's heart was turned. Where ingratitude had driven him away, the love of Oshun had melted his gruffness.
And thus we have our lesson from the Orishas. Show gratitude, give honor, for those we take for granted may be our undoing.
Ashe Legba, Ashe Oggun, Ashe Oshun, all hail the Orishas.
Orisha Story copyright
© 1998
Charles Butler
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