"Her feet will take her places," the Oracle said, his voice deep and distant, as he peered into the shimmering cowries spread before him. Many hearts will be sweetened just as wine gladdens the heart, at her appearance."
"It's a girl then," Odibe said, his voice resonating with joy as he eagerly leaned forward.
"Yes, a unique gift from Olise; the very earth would tremble under her feet, and her light would shine to faraway lands." The oracle smiled faintly.
Odibe was a very happy man leaving the shrine. A girl at last after seven boys! He had gone to inquire of the sex of the child his wife carried.
"I can see that "Olise" has favoured me and answered my long awaited prayer request." He left the shrine with a dance in his sprint.
A dancing queen, she'll be!
The midwives were astonished at the beauty of the newborn. Full and round like a calabash of fresh palm wine, the child danced in her mother' arms, and while asleep, her feet seemed to be dancing back and forth.
From the time she could walk, Oye danced. She danced to every sound; the sound of the pestles pounding yam in the evenings to the sound of the raindrops against the rooftops, and even at the cock crowing at dawn— her feet swayed to every rythm.
Whenever the ogene sounded, Oye was out of her house, into the streets and to the village square.
"This one was born dancing," her grandfather spoke softly as he tapped his feet to the sound of the village drummer. He was watching Oye dance her heart out.
Oye twirled to a stop, panting, her face glowing with excitement.
"Grandpa, did the spirits really give me dancing feet?" she asked, wide-eyed.
The old man nodded slowly;
"Yes my child, you do not just dance but the earth dances through you."
She smiled happily and continued her dancing.
The village marveled as she grew. At every New Yam festival and Ofala ceremony, every moonlight gathering, Oye spun her magical feet and leapt, her waist beads vibrating to her dancing moves. Tiny cowries on her ankles sang with each step.
Oye was indeed the life of the party at Umuodum village; no ceremony was complete without her vibrant presence.
When she was fifteen years old, the king of a neighboring kingdom called for her, to perform at his daughter's wedding. He had heard so much about her and wanted to see things for himself.
Her mother dressed her up and fussed over her wrapper, adjusting her waist beads.
"Oye, you must dance according to the dictates of your heart, you must stand firm like the iroko tree." She spoke slowly.
She hugged her mother tightly and spoke with so much enthusiasm;
"Mama, I will dance for you, I will dance for Papa and I will dance for the whole of Umuodum."
When she stood before the King, the drums rolled like thunder, Oye leapt forward, her body a river of movement, her beads singing, her spirit soaring, her feet, magic.
The guests and the King were so impressed.
After the dance, the King called her forth, his voice filled with awe.
"Young maiden, what name does the earth call you?"
Oye bowed low and replied humbly, "I am Oye, the daughter of Odibe."
The King smiled, removing a golden bracelet from his hands and placing it on her wrist."
"May your feet never tire, and may your light never dim."
Soon after, suitors came from afar to try to win her hand in marriage. They came bearing yam tubers, goats, strings of coral beads, and expensive textiles, but Oye, the dancing queen, was first bound to her destiny; she could not be so easily tied down.
"Her feet will take her places."
And they did.
Her fame went far and wide. She ushered in great festivals of great kingdoms, Royal marriages, and title-honoring celebrations. Her fame roared like bushfire in the dry season.
Before kings, queens, princes, and princesses, she danced. She danced in sacred places. She danced in groves.
The earth trembled softly in awe, wherever she danced, just as the Oracle had foretold.
But with her fame and riches, Oye would always remember her humble beginnings and return to Umuodum, each season, to celebrate with her people.
Oye led the village children in lunar dances and taught them the steps that honored their land of birth.
On that day, Old Odibe, sat under the Udala tree, watching his daughter and shedding tears of pride. This is the daughter of prophecy, the light of his hope.
She was the dancing queen of Umuodum.
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