How the Hummingbird Was Born

How the Hummingbird Was Born

From the Odu Oché Meji

All things change for love; the world will not remain always as it is.

All things change for love; the world will not remain always as it is.

She was young, and she was beautiful; and her heart was light as she sat by the river, her feet dangling among budding lilies. Her hands caressed the polished river pebble that hung on a silver chain at her throat; it was a gift from the man who loved her, and she loved it more than anything she owned.

"I will be wed soon," she whispered to the slow-moving water, she who was the princess known as Odedei. "I am in love, and he loves me, and tonight we will announce our love to my father and he will be happy to see me wed."

A light breeze rippled the river's surface; the lilies and reeds seemed to bounce with silent laughter, like that of young girls sharing an innocent secret. "When I come again you will bloom: she said to the lily buds floating above their green pads, "as will my heart, because I will be a married woman."

Gently she stood, taking her slippers in her hands, and her walk was almost a skip as she made her way home. Odede, her suitor, would meet her there; and after asking her father's permission to wed, on bended knee he would ask her to be his wife. It was how they planned it.

Even the best-laid plans go to wrong.

It took many days of travel, but Ocanancan made the journey to Odedei's palace. He came with many men and dozens of horses and bags of gold and jewels and trinkets as presents for her father, the King. It was the King's servant, Odede, who met the weary caravan; and without so much as a nod to the young man, Ocanancan jumped off his horse and made his way inside. As was his duty, Odede showed the rich merchant's men where to tie their horses; and once they were secure, together they brought the bags into the King's palace.

Ocanancan gestured to the bags as Odede and his own servants brought them inside the palace.

"This, kind sir, is what I offer you for your daughter's hand in marriage."

Odede froze; his heart leapt in his throat and settled there like cold ice cubes.

One by one the men approached the King, carefully opening their bags so he could see the riches inside. Odede moved slowly, his legs wobbly and weak. He was the last to approach the King. He saw the wealth inside his one bag, more than he would make in a lifetime of servitude to his master. He fought back the bitter tears that stung his eyes, and forced an uneven smile.

The King barely noticed.

"She is my youngest," he said. "And my favorite," he added.

The King grew silent. Ocanancan held his breath. "Do you promise to be kind to her?"

"I do," he said, his head bowed with his right fist over his heart.

'Do you promise to love her and keep her as is fit a King's daughter?"

'I love her already, and I have more than enough wealth to offer her the finest things."

He walked to Ocanancan and embraced him roughly; he was startled at first, and settled into the King's embrace just in time for him to break it.

"Welcome to the family. ... son."

Odede thought he would faint.
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Odedei saw the horses tied outside her home; she eyed them curiously before bursting inside. 'Father?" she called out, her voiced echoing off the palace walls. She ran through halls and stopped when she saw dozens of men gathered inside the King's throne room, and her one true love, Odede, standing still with a heavy bag in his hands. It was open; she thought she saw the glint of gold. The men parted slowly, a great sigh erupting in the hall when they saw the beautiful maiden standing before them. She breathed heavily, her ample chest rising and falling with each breath. She saw the old merchant standing before her father as he sat in his great throne, and she wrinkled her brow when the stranger came to her and got down on one knee.

"Odeclei: he said, taking her hands in his. She was too surprised to pull back, and her glance flew from her father's smiling face to the forlorn look of her lover, Odede. His eyes were reddened as if he were about to cryor scream in anger—she could not tell which. "Your beauty is legendary as is your heart. I have traveled a great distance to bring gold and jewels and trinkets to your father, the King. I have come a long way to ask his permission to marry you, and now that I have his permission I ask you ... will you be my wife?"

There was a great clattering of metal on the stone floor; Odede had dropped the bag he was holding, and gold coins rolled on the hard floor. The glint of gold sparkled and shimmered in the evening light that came through open windows; all eyes were on him as he said, "I'm sorry. I can't . ." and he ran from the room with a heavy heart.

Odedei's eyes welled with angry tears as shesaw the small fortune of gold rolling out on the floor; she breathed in sharply as Odede walked briskly from the room, and her stomach lurched as she saw her father smiling at the small fortune laying on the floor like a child's discarded toys. Her eyes took in the bags the dozens of men held; they bulged, and she knew each bulged with a small fortune. "You came here to buy me?" It was an accusation, not a question. She looked at her father with tearful eyes. "And you sold me?"

"It's not like that," said Ocanancan. Still holding her hands he stood and looked at her tear-swollen face. "I love you."

"Love can't be bought. I hate you! I am in love with another."

The men gasped as she ran from the room; she ran up the stairs to her own chambers and slammed the door, hard. The palace walls shook with her anger as she screamed. Then there was only silence.

"She'll come around," said the King.

It did not take long for her father to plan her wedding.

Odedei loved the full moon; on nights when it hung low and full in the sky, she spent hours walking on the riverbank, following its reflection in the water. "This,* her father told her, "the night of the full moon will be your wedding night." She sat by him unmoving as he went through the plans in his head. "It will be beautiful. We will wait for the moon to rise; and the courtyard will be lit by hundreds of flamingtorches. There, by moonlight and torchlight you and Ocanancan will make your vows to each other, and the priests will bless your union."

"I will die before I marry that man," she said, barely a whisper.

"What?"

Louder she said, "I will die before I marry that man. The dark moon is in less than two weeks. When the moon is dark, I will kill myself"

It was true that the King loved his daughter, but his love of wealth was even greater. "You cannot mean that!" he said. "Ocanancan is a wealthy man who could have anyone he wanted. Anyone. And he chose you. It is a great honor, young lady.'

"Honor be damned!" she screamed. have loved Odede since the day I first saw him. The day that man bought me from you, we were going to announce our love, and he was going to ask your permission to marry me."

"My servant?" The King laughed. "My servant thought he was good enough for my daughter? You would choose a life of poverty over a life of wealth and comfort?"

"I would choose a single day of love over eternal life without it," she said.

"You will marry Ocanancan, daughter." It was a warning, not a command. "You will marry him or you won't have to worry about taking your own life. I will lock you in my prison before I let you marry Odede."

She stormed away from her father in tears. A life without love was no better than death; and if she had to die, she would do it in the river, with the lilies she loved. "They should be blooming now," she thought to herself. "And they will find my bloated body floating among their blossoms."

Odedei was unable to carry out her plans.

Her father, the King, set a guard outside her door day and night; and she was kept prisoner in her own room. A handmaiden came throughout the day to bring her meals, but Odedei did not eat—her heart was broken, and nothing works inside the body of a woman with a broken heart, not even her stomach. She spent her days beside her window looking over the courtyard, and she would have thrown herself to the ground below had the window not been nailed shut. Night after night she lay in her bed watching the moon rise over the horizon; she counted the days until it would be full.

"My father keeps me prisoner until I am married," she whispered to the moon. "I would sooner kill myself than be married to that man. If I were free, I would run to the river and throw my body into it. I would sink to its bottom and breathe in deeply of its water." She sighed. "But I can no more get to the river than I can get out of this room."

That night, the night before her wedding, the moon hung low and almost full in the dark sky. She cried like a prisoner about to go to the gallows when her handmaiden crept quietly into the room. 'Why do you cry?" she asked. 'Tomorrow you will be wed to the richest man in the land, a man with more wealth than your own father. Are you not happy?"

"I am not," she said, burying her face in her hands. "I do not love Ocanancan. I am in love with Odede."

"You will learn to love him?"

"I won't."

"But you will. He has a kind heart."

"He's not that kind," she seethed. "It is because of him and his money that I am kept locked up in my room, a prisoner. If I were a free woman I'd throw myself to the river."

The handmaiden gasped. "Mistress, do not speak like that. It frightens me. What can I do to soothe you?"

"You can set me free."

"That I cannot do."

Odedei thought silently for a moment. She looked out her window and up at the moon. It was sailing higher in the sky, beyond the reach of her window. She had a thought. "You can do something for me that will soothe me," she said.

"Anything—I will do anything for you."

Odedei reached around the back of her neck and unclasped the chain that held a polished river stone against her neck. "Take this to Odede," she said.

"Your necklace? But it is your favorite in the entire world."

"Yes," she sighed. "It is my favorite in the entire world because he gave it to me. He took a small amber stone from the riverbank and set it in silver; and then he bound it to this silver chain. He gave it to me in the place where the water lilies grow. It was there that he told me he loved me. It was there that I said I loved him. And it was there that we kissed for the first time."

She held out the pendant to her servant, and carefully she took it from her. She tucked Odedei's charm in her pockets.

"Tell him this: tell him that even though I am forced to marry Ocanancan tomorrow night with the rising of the full moon, he is the man that I love. Tell him that my heart will die when I take my vows, and I will die not long after. I will be as one of the dead among the waters and the lilies that grow in our special place. Tell him ... after my wedding ceremony he is to throw that stone into the river; that is where our love was born, and that is where my heart will die."

Her words made the handmaiden shiver, but she had promised to do her mistress' bidding. She kissed her lightly on the cheek and the two women embraced.

"I will go to him now." She turned to leave, and as she stepped through the door she stopped and turned.

"Ocanancan is a good man. Even if you do not love him, he loves you. He will take good care of you."

It was the night of her wedding and as her father promised the courtyard was ablaze with torches and candles. It seemed the entire kingdom was there to watch the ceremony, the night Odedei was to become Ocanancan's wife.

For the first time she was freed from her room. She sat in her father's parlor surrounded by handmaidens who dressed her and coiffed her hair. When they were done they stood back to look—she was beautiful, a black lows rising from white cloth. There were no words; the room was silent.

"Leave me now," ordered Odedei.

"But we can't," protested her handmaiden. "Your father said to keep watch over you until the wedding."

"So you stand guard outside the door." Her chest rose and fell in anger, her breasts all but bursting from their cloth. "What do you think I will do? Jump out of the window? Now go!"

One by one the women backed out the door, each casting a wary eye at her and then each other. When the last handmaiden left she shut the door, and Odedei did just what she told them she would not do—she jumped out the window.

She was, after all, on the first floor.

With the light of the full moon guiding her steps she ran, her white wedding dress trailing behind her and ripping in the undergrowth. When she got to the river where the water lilies and lotuses grew she stopped, breathless; there before her was her lover, Odede.

There was only one thing they could do—they embraced, and kissed.

The night seemed on fire with their passion. "How did you get away?" Odede asked.

"I jumped!" she said, a wry smile on her face.

"Then those torches bouncing through the forest toward us must be for you." Odedei looked behind her; the forest seemed on fire with their light. There were hundreds of them marching slowly toward the river, and soon she heard her name being called out. "They will find us both," Odede said.

“Oshún, save us!" she cried to the river.

There was no answer; there was only the sound of the river bubbling away in the night.

"Oshún, you must save us, or I will die in your depths." With those words she broke away from Odede and threw herself into the water. He panicked, and jumped in after her.

As she exhaled and was about to take in her first mouthful of water, Oshún did, indeed, have pity on the two lovers. She turned them both into hummingbirds, and while the townspeople scoured the woods looking for them both, they flitted among the lotuses that grew under the light of the full moon.

And that is how the hummingbird was born.