The first rays of sun illuminate the faces of hopeful women as they gather, their eyes filled with longing. Among them, Oluronbi stands apart, her hands trembling as she clutches a woven basket. The air is thick with anticipation, and whispers of the mighty Iroko Oluwere fill the atmosphere. Children chase goats nearby, their laughter mingling with the songs of birds.
The barren women approach the tree, each kneeling in reverence. Iroko Oluwere, the spirit of the tree, listens as they plead. One after another, they promise goats, yams, and handwoven cloth, their voices wavering. "If you grant me a child, I will return with my finest goods," many women vow. When Oluronbi steps forward, her voice breaks through the hush. "If you bless me with a child, I shall return the very child to you," she declares, her words echoing beneath the ancient canopy.
Oluronbi gazes lovingly at her daughter, Aponbepore, who is as radiant as palm oil, her skin glowing with vitality. The villagers marvel at her beauty, calling her "the most beautiful." Oluronbi’s joy seems boundless, and in her happiness, she forgets the solemn promise made beneath Iroko’s boughs. The spirit tree waits, silent and patient, as Aponbepore grows.
Iroko Oluwere stirs, its branches swaying unnaturally. The villagers sense unease as Oluronbi’s door creaks open, revealing the imposing figure of the tree spirit. Aponbepore plays in the corner, oblivious to the danger. "Oluronbi, you have forgotten your vow. I have come for what was promised," the spirit intones, its voice resonating with sorrow and authority.
Oluronbi falls to her knees, tears streaming down her face. The villagers join in song, echoing the tale of promises made and broken: "Onikaluku jeje ewure, ewure, ewure... Onikaluku jeje aguntan, aguntan bolojo... Oluronbi jeje omo re, omo re apon bi epo..." The melody weaves through the night, a haunting reminder of the price of forgotten vows.
Children gather beneath the Iroko tree, their eyes wide as elders recount Oluronbi’s story. The villagers continue to sing, their voices teaching caution and respect for promises. The mighty tree stands as a silent witness, its roots entwined with the fate of the village, and the song echoing: "Oluronbi O! Jo’in jo’in, Iroko Jo’in jo’in..." From that day, every favor sought from Iroko is met with thoughtful promises, the lesson never forgotten.
















