This is a documentation of the concept and process for the establishment of 
        Ile Ifa Jalumi by Awo Songodina Ifatunji, among others, who in an effort 
        to reclaim the traditions of his African heritage, became a devotee and 
        priest of Egungun, Songo and Ifa. Pursuant to these initiations he was 
        informed by the study and practice of these traditions as taught by H.R.H. 
        Oba Oseijiman Adefunmi I, Oluwo Adenibi Ajamu, Iya Mogba Adekola Adedapo, 
        Medahochi Kofi Zannu and others.  

My first encounter with an orisha reference was in a San Francisco touring company performance of the prize winning play, "No Place to be Somebody" by Charles Gordone. The actor playing the character of Shanty (called Shangy by his girlfriend) invoked Songo during a comic improvised drum solo which was supposed to demonstrate Shangy's prowess as a musician. I asked my instructor what he was talking about when he said "Songo". He said, he thought it was a reference to an African god.

Later I encountered references that I knew to be African derived. The specific relationship was not yet clear, but some connection was apparent. An example of this was the play Tabernacle by Paul Carter Harrison. In a Sacramento State University production which toured to San Jose State University in the early 70's, I witnessed female masque characters in a "Chorus of Mothers" serving as the a feminine consciousness in the African American community. It was not until later that I was able to correlate them to the Gelede tradition of the Yoruba.

Impressed by Harrison's work in Tabernacle as well as his use of Amos Tutuola's Palm Wine Drinkard as the foundation for his own "The Great McDaddy", I followed Harrison to The University of Massachusetts to study in a program called The Institute of Pan African Culture. It was there that I hoped to learn about the African influences on African American theatre. Upon first inquiring about this subject I was told that if I wanted to know where the Africanisms in African American theatre came from, I would have to study African religion and religious ceremony. Of course, I was shocked because being a wayward Missionary Baptist educated in American schools, I was still struggling with the notion that African people had religion. I decided to begin the study and immediately ran into problems.

Though books such as African Religions and Philosophy, by John Mbiti were required reading in Institute classes and titles like Ifa Divination, by William Bascom were available in library stacks, the word was that African religion in the practical sense was all but extinct. I was taught that this demise began for my ancestors when the drum was taken from them during early slavery in the United States and they were not allowed to have public or private assemblies, especially for religious purposes. I began to grieve the loss of a part of my heritage my ancestors and I never had the choice to maintain.

It was only in my study with a Puerto Rican dance Instructor, Diana Ramos, that I received even the most tentative encouragement that African ritual practices could still be found here in America. She suggested that if I was interested, I might look around in New York City, because she thought there were some Puerto Ricans still doing such things. Having been reared in California and being a student, with little money and completely preoccupied with the completion of a graduate program, I thought venturing out on such a search impractical.

Then, Barbara Ann Teer came to campus with a performance she called Ritual. Again, a form of theatre that seemed steeped in some spiritual foundation and informed by African tradition titillated my curiosity. But, again, her base in New York seemed a long way from the hills of New England.

I had, however, gotten the bug. Worship of ones ancestors made more sense to me than any religious concept I'd ever heard. But, the oral liturgy of Ifa, while impressive, contained too many obscure references for me to decipher without a teacher. I put the books back in the library and began to explore the rituals of African American life in my work. Years later, still interested in the subject while teaching at Illinois State University, I ran into a dissertation by Joel Adedeji called Alarinjo Theatre. I was so excited. I had finally found an African root in theatre. Adedeji documented the roots of contemporary Yoruba traveling theatre in the Egungun tradition of the Yoruba people. I knew then that there would be a special relationship between that Egungun tradition and me. Still there was little support for such lofty research in my daily routine as an instructor. Still there was nobody handy to teach me. So, I continued to work with what I knew best, African American culture.

A couple of years later I got my first opportunity to indulge my interest in Yoruba culture. As Artistic Director of LaMont Zeno Theatre on the West Side of Chicago, my boss, Useni Eugene Perkins, brought me a play to consider for our season. Reading Angela Jackson's Songo Diaspora was like reading an African American Wole Soyinka. This play was a marvelous depiction of the attributes of Yoruba deities applied poetically to the African American experience.

We did the world premiere.

Though hard to believe, that production was the beginning of another experience which may be even more significant to the development of my work. I met my second wife, then Adekola Adedapo, who performed in the show and served as technical advisor. Ms. Adedapo had recently been initiated to Songo in Oyotunji African Village near Sheldon, South Carolina. There, under the guidance of H.R.H. Oba Oseijiman Adefunmi I and other priests and chiefs, she had also trained as a priest and learned to live a traditional Yoruba cultural life style. She assured me that this culture and priesthood was now available to every African American who was interested. It was such an incredible claim I had to challenge its validity, but every challenge I made was met with proof.

I received initiation into the Egungun Society at Oyotunji to get me rooted and prepared as a culture bearer. This priesthood required that I learn traditional Yoruba culture including its ethics, history, art, mythology, sociology, political and economic organization, etc. It is impossible to truly understand the point of view, philosophy or religion of a people without knowing their culture.

During my development I received a shrine of Ifa (Owofakan) and in the divination performed as part of the ritual I was told that I was one who would help to bring Egungun to the world. It took me a while to put the pieces together, but finally I resolved that this part of the diviner's comments was related to my work in theatre. From previous study of Adedeji's work I had become aware of the relationship between Egungun and Alarinjo theatre. It made sense that understanding the Yoruba point of view in theatre would involve practical knowledge of a religious practice which contributed to the formation of their theatre tradition.

In the years to follow initiation into the Egungun Society I was trained as an Egungun priest, given the responsibility of Alagba (chief priest) and of developing an ancillary society in Chicago. In this process I learned the recipe for "iseku" (creation of the dead) or returning the spirit of a family ancestor to the world for celebration and communion.

Performance of this ritual gave me experience in making the connection between the world of the living-dead and the world of the living. Since H.R.H. Oba Adefunmi I had also taught me that a peoples ethics and values are derived from their ancestors, I felt prepared to create theatre which would be in keeping with ancestral thought and behavior.

Initiation to the orisha Songo, Kawo Kabiesi, acquainted me with my relationship to the cosmic and natural forces. As a result of that initiation I received shrines to other deities so that I could begin to work on those relationships.

In a story from the Ifa divination corpus of the Yoruba people, it is said that Okanran Meji's follower, Wind, divined for Trees when they were going to the world. They were told to sacrifice to Songo (i.e. thunder bolt). Only Royal Palm sacrificed. Later, when reports of wickedness on earth reached heaven, Songo, accompanied by Wind, was sent to check things out. He found many trees contaminated with wickedness. Thunder Bolt and Wind destroyed all the trees except for Royal Palm. Royal Palm listened to the wind, paid respect to the Thunder's bolt and was able to survive the world's storms. It has taken years and it is a continuous struggle, but I, like the Royal Palm, have been making my sacrifices to Songo and the other gods. During my training as a priest of Songo H.R.H. Oba Adefunmi has taught me that as human beings we live among natural and cosmic forces that are greater than ourselves. The Yoruba way of observing and maintaining good relationships with these forces is worship and propitiation. In other words, if I am in communication with Lightning Bolt (i.e. Songo) I am a lot less likely to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when he decides to visit the world.

Training, practice as an orisha priest and understanding my own relationship to various forces, helped me also to be clear about the Yoruba perception of how these forces worked in the lives of others. I had become a better vessel. The world of the unseen had come into better focus and I was better prepared to address it in any vehicle I might create for the theatre.

Roland Abiodun in his article "Verbal and Visual Metaphors: Mythical Allusions in Yoruba Ritualistic Art of Ori", says,

He goes on in this article to explain that the common perception of the Yoruba "Ela" is often considered to be interchangeable with "Orunmila". Orunmila is the deity who created the Ifa divination system now used by practitioners throughout the world. It is not, however, common knowledge that it is Ela who is invoked by the Babalawo (Ifa diviner) while performing a "d'afa" (divination reading).

Of course, a good vessel would need to have a "hook up" with Ela if he were to communicate clearly the knowledge, understanding and wisdom imparted by the Owner of Heaven. Another communication made to me while receiving my "Hand of Ifa" was that I would become a Babalawo. I, therefore, went to Ode Remo, Nigeria where all the appropriate rite and rituals were performed for me.

Though it is not mandatory for one to be initiated into Ifa before studying Ifa, it is mandatory that one have initiation to that priesthood before calling Ela. Since experience is the best teacher and I did not want to be engaged in guess work while determining what message to convey in my vehicles, I was initiated and trained as an Ifa diviner. Now I could have the experience of consulting Ela before proceeding to create vehicles for the theatre. I could also have the experience of consulting Ela while advising people and, thereby, better understand how the traditional Yoruba worked with Ifa to get guidance in their lives.

to be continued...