type: "[[Pataki]]"
title: The Taming Of Ogún
odu:
tonti:
full_odu: "[[3-5]]"
characters:
source: "[[BOOK-0003 - Osogbo Speaking to the Spirits of Misfortune]]"
source_specifics: Page 162
class_session:
tags:
- unanalyzed
- pataki
The Taming Of Ogún
The war was over, but Iñá wanted more. He had the orisha Ogún in his grip, his thirst for war pounding the orisha’s body with every beat of his heart. Ogún stood above the rubble, his onyx-colored, muscled form slicked with sweat and gore. Yet his destruction was not done; Iñá’s ashé was hot in Ogún’s blood, and he brandished two machetes above his head with his thick, powerful arms. A deranged, primal scream poured from his lips, as much a warning as a threat. Earth stood still; darkness descended. Those who could ran, others hid, and some just cowered before his wrath. Like a rabid beast, Ogún descended on the town’s survivors, slicing any who dared breathe. Blood flowed, and death was quick to all in his path.
Oshún Ibú Yemú trembled in the shadows. Her frail body, weak with age and exhaustion, could barely stand upright, let alone face the wild warrior orisha. But in the city she had many children, several of them priests, and she could not sit by idly while Ogún, in Iñá’s grip, wiped out her followers. Smearing honey on her lips, she stepped into his path, holding both arms up to heaven, singing, “Gbajure aye e! Okonrin gogorogo ti ngbojuto iyade!”*36 For a moment, Ogún wavered as he saw the elderly Oshún before him; the words had barely reached him, but the challenge of the old woman touched him. Again Oshún Ibú Yemú sang, her words more insistent, more earnest, her words rising to heaven, more a prayer than a song, but sweet all the same. Ogún wavered. He trembled. The fog lifted from his brain as he looked around, and his eyes opened to the great evil he was causing—the needless death of those who once had nothing but love in their hearts for him, the patron of ironworkers. His heart stood still, and Iñá, who had him firmly in his grip, lost control. Ogún shook off the osogbo like a loose shawl.
Ogún, exhausted, fell to the earth in tears. Oshún Ibú Yemú came to him slowly, and carefully she knelt beside him, her ancient knees complaining as she bent over him. With love, Oshún cradled him against her breast.
For now, her people were safe.