When I die, bury me with the dirt (eruku) from OYo Ile, where Mother Earth combs her hair with a spiritual hoe. Where Oranmiyan is a monument, over looking the palace of the OYO King, that commands death (Alafin, Iku baba yeye).
No one should shed tears. Tell my Mothers (Iyami), who flies in the twilight not to mourn. Instead, they should puke praises and prayers and recite my eulogy (Oriki) from their sack of wisdom underneath their old fragile stomach (ikun).
Omo Onikoyi O!, Omo Akin (Son of the brave) have nothing to fear, but himself. Omo Ogun (Warrior) have no where to run to, but to the spiritual shelter of his Fathers in Orun (land of my dead fathers in the Sun).
If you felt my heat. I am your next of kin. If you are drench in your own sweat. I am raining. If the Earth under your feet collapses. It was my quake. If you are looking for me. Look ahead, I am like the morning Sun, miles away but always sitting over your head.
I will not call myself, "Ikumapayi" (the one death will pardon) because no matter how long and stout a neck is, on top of it must sit a head. Odua Balogun Kakanfo, a Yoruba man, is one of a kind. I saw yesterday's night, I am looking at today's morning Sun. Even death can not deny this.
BY: Odua Balogun Kakanfo (OBK).
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