ÍJÁLỌ, the champion.

ÍJÁLỌ, the champion.

I grew up in Bariga, Lagos Mainland, the very heart of Lagos.

Bariga at the time hosted a complex mix of everyone: the rich, the poor, the average, and the louts, all enveloped in one neighbourhood.

Ram fighting was a tradition, as every Sunday evening, people would stake bets in hundreds of thousands.

The scope of the game was simple, two rams would be placed in an open field and would be made to fight. Each fight had 3 rounds, and any that falls the most or runs away loses.

Ijalo was always favourite, small, but mighty. He was rumoured to have been fortified with powerful charms, as he was champion for a very long time. A great possibility considering how he beat much bigger Rams to the ground and had them running away.

Ijalo reigned supreme, as Sunday after Sunday he beat hundreds of rams that came from different parts of Lagos; Mushin, Oshodi, Iyana Ipaja, Surulere, name it, he beat them all in their different colours and sizes

Ijalo was indeed a conqueror. Ijalo is a eulogy of a name, one befitting a champion fighter.

This faithfully unfaithful day, Ijalo met his match in an equal-sized ram from Badagry, stakes were set and bang! After the first clash, Ijalo in an unfamiliar fashion, fell to the ground, the challenging ram stepped back to get ready for another clash, but the unimaginable happened; Ijalo the champion ran away! 

This was not possible, Ijalo was the king of the ring, could he be defeated? I was shocked, and so were the hundreds of people who gathered around the field to watch. But it was true, Ijalo had been defeated and had given way to a new king.

Did his charms fail him? Was his time over? Would he come back stronger? These thoughts ran deep, sadly, I went to the boarding school and never found out what happened next.

No champion lasts forever, enjoy your time, but be humble. 

Dance in glory while you reign but be kind, else when your time is over, you would eat the sand.

I am Kovu.