Description

Abiodun: King of the Hunters

43c. In July 1984, I was heading back to Lagos; however, this was to be a winding-down period. Nigeria had been very good to me and I was taking this time out to just enjoy the country. After a few days of telling stories, handing out gifts and getting reacquainted with my Igbobi family, I headed up country to my flat in Oshogbo.

Upon arrival, my girlfriend, Oni, was told by our neighbors that I had arrived, which she didn’t believe. Yelling, screaming, with tears in her eyes, she greeted me in the doorway as I entered our flat. A couple of days later, Oni said her mother had summoned her to come. I asked how she knew and she said, “When my mother wants me, she beats on her breast three times.” So, we gathered our good friend, pen and ink artist, Cornelius and were off to the Village of Irunda near Isanlu in Kwara State.

The rainy season prompted our driver dropping us off on the main road; refusing to go further inland, across seven rivers and bridges to Irunda, so we got out and walked. It was a beautiful trek! Cornelius and Oni helped carry my camera bag, as we faced six hours, crossing these bridges and rivers, passing an ancient towering tree with thousands of mystical branches; Cornelius said, “It was a place where spirits would meet at night and discuss?” Before we walked in its path, for our safety, we lit up a joint because he said, “They don’t like the scent of ganja.”

Isanlu is a village sitting below a beautiful, gigantic rock. Happy to see her, Oni’s mother warmly greeted us as I had the opportunity of meeting her father, Abiodun. Warm beer, bush meat and pounded yam were on the menu. You see, Abiodun was an elder in the village and probably had never journeyed outside of Kwara State. He was known as The King of the Hunters, immortalized in the batik artworks of his daughter, Yemisi and Oni. He was a master trapper, bartering catches for goods and services with his fellow villagers.

The following day, Oni asked me to photograph her family. Her mother was too shy (to be honest, she really wasn’t feeling me), so it was Oni, Abiodun, her father and her younger brother. After shooting a few frames, I began wrapping up my camera, placing it in my bag, when Abiodun said he wanted a picture by himself.

This was one of those moments in photography, like in baseball, when you’re at the plate, with the pressure of getting a hit, advancing a man on base to win the game. As he gathered himself, looked me straight in the eye and let me into his soul.

I settled down, composed myself and carefully squeezed the shutter, creating a memorable portrait of her father which was later placed on exhibit in 2001 at the Brooklyn Museum’s show entitled, “Committed to the Image: Contemporary Black Photographers.” After a brief walk around the area and a visit to Oni’s cousin in a nearby village, we were on our way back to Oshogbo.