TWO CORONATIONS AND ONE WEDDING

The coronation of Tsola Emiko as the Olu of Warri is well deserved, writes Dele Olowu

Everywhere we turn today in Nigeria, we encounter pain and distress. Our lives seem to be unusually denominated in the currency of malevolence, banditry and widespread alarm. A torrent of local and national mishaps leaves our consciousness numb from pain-fatigue. It could be a group of school children kidnapped here; or some public infrastructure collapsing in a remorseless inferno; while the deathless Boko Haram mows down our soldiers in a hail of villainous bullets. Last week was different. Nigeria sang from a new hymn sheet!

Two coronations and one wedding, all of them high profile, took place in our country, providing considerable cultural excitement, as well as serving to divert many of us from our familiar agonies. In Kano, Yusuf, President Buhari’s son got married to the daughter of the Emir of Bichi who himself was also formally given his staff of office as Emir. The third big event was the coronation in Big Warri of a 37-year-old Tsola Emiko as Atuwatse 111, the 21st Olu of Warri.

The Marriage of President Buhari’s son might have been strategically muted hence its limited exposure in the media; the coronation of the Emir of Bichi attracted the customary social and political bigwigs but as an event it broke no new grounds. The coronation of the Olu of Warri however seemed to be an entirely different experience. Olu Atuwatse 111 is himself a figure of romance and history and perhaps carries a unique flavor with him to the throne. Here is why. He is only 37 and his credential as a youth, guarantees him a fund of support not available to any other Olu before him. He is the youngest Itsekiri Olu ever and arguably one of the youngest monarchs in the entire Nigerian federation today. In a season when there has been an increased clamor for youth empowerment, the emergence of Atuwatse 111 should enjoy considerable resonance.

But Atuwatse did not from the start, come to the throne at the head of a tumultuous welcoming party. He had to fight his way up. Or as he might prefer to put it, destiny provided the stairway to exaltation. After the 20th Olu of Warri, Ogiamen Ikenwoli passed away last December, there was a tussle for his replacement. While one group supported the emergence of Tsola Emiko, who is the eldest son of the 19th Olu, Atuwatse 11, the other led by Ayiri Emami, the traditional prime minister thought differently. Onyowoli the eldest son of the 20th Olu instituted a legal action challenging the emergence of Tsola Emiko as the new king. All that nastiness, though somewhat customary in pre-transition Royal exchanges, has now been put behind.

And the coronation itself was a smart event profiting distinctly from its media savviness as well as from a quaint understanding by the Olu of his place in history. Many have commented positively on the cuteness of the coronation ceremony, with some even suggesting that this level of loud excellence ought really to be associated with well managed nation states. This applause is perhaps well deserved. The Itsekiris have tended to loom large in politics and public affairs partly because of their early contact with Europeans and the cohesion wrought by their monarchy. The Itsekiri tongue is one and has no dialect. Thus in spite of the early tussles, in the end with one voice they seemed to rally behind the Olu.

However, even though the Itsekiris are one, the coronation was probably not just an Itsekiri affair. It was the Olu’s show and reflected his urbane upbringing. The coronation was backed by a coterie of solid professionals who seemed to have shown their gifted hands at every turn. The melange of entertainment was diverse, sensitive and reflective. I was quite surprised by the inclusion of Laz Ekwueme in the repertoire but when the Olu himself led a chorus, it became evident that Warri was on the cusp of a creative rebirth. Dismayed by what I sometimes noted as the increased coarseness of the Warri social exchange, I had joked that if Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar were to be staged at the Memorial Hall Warri on any given weekend, attendance would be scanty. The nite clubs would instead be more bountifully attended! Refinement is in recess in the oil city. So I thought. Now thanks to the coronation I regret my prognosis. The Warri Choir is alive and well and is amply supported by a royal impetus.

But by far the most outstanding character of the Warri coronation was the decisiveness of the Olu, his consciousness of history and the rapidity with which he stamped his authority on proceedings. He did not require a season of apprenticeship. When he spoke, he spoke as one who had been doing the royal chores for eternity! His speech was moving and accomplished and the themes were well chosen. The speech had no ghost as I understand, it all came off the royal stylus. Forgiveness was central and even though some have objected to the overtly Christian tone, the speech was reconciliatory and welcoming. The new Olu is evangelical and evidently believes in the power of curses. In his first speech he revoked the curse placed on the federal government by Olu Erejuwa who was deposed by the NCNC-led regional government in 1964. His first official function was to reverse this curse.

Atuwatse 111 has not surprisingly enjoyed a centrality in the unfurling of these events; he has summoned spirituality and deployed history to great effect. But history unfurls in devious and surprising ways. The same family implicated in the banning of Erejuwa in 1964 has now also produced the regent, Prince Emmanuel Okotie Eboh. All through, this Regent stood as a pillar of support and has ensured that Olu Atuwatse prevails against all odds.

The Olu of Warri has the distinct good looks of his father, who then known as Godwin Emiko, was my classmate at Hussey College Warri. Sports was an undying craze and Godwin Emiko was a mildly successful athlete. He had a bullying presence and occasionally intimidated even athletes of higher worth. Olu Atuwatse 111, his heir, will not lack resolution. He has forgiveness in his heart. But history will also nudge him to look more heartily at his neighbors and extend the hand of friendship across historic divides. When his father, Atuwatse 11 died in 2015, a fiat of controversial provenance was one of the weapons deployed to prevent the son from succeeding the father. It was a narrow ethnically driven law, provoked by in-house animosities. The trap crafted to ensnare him turned out to be futile. He must profit from that experience and use an emergent largeness of heart to build new bridges between the Itsekiris and their neighbours.

The coronation speaks richly of local indigenous capacities and of the new edge skills which the new Olu can summon to transform his people. But we must becalm our perspective. Kings are only kings. They can inspire and mobilize. But they cannot cause a coat of paint to be applied on the city hall. Yet those who have kings worship them. Those who do not have kings, curse them but envy them all the same. Still we must face tomorrow with a heart of hope.

Olowu wrote from Abuja