Romoke had a man once - almost.  Her betrothal to Ijilaiye, son of a wealthy merchant from a faraway city, was once the talk of Karele.  It fitted well into the plan of Teniloju, Romoke's father, who believed his daughter was too good for any man in their hometown.  His wife died during childbirth and he brought the girl up by himself in their home on the mound.  Romoke’s only mother figure was an unseen one, the goddess Aboni, to whom she was dedicated at birth. 

         Teniloju rejected all advice to remarry, stung by suggestions that another wife could bear him a son.  Those foolish enough to utter such advice to his face went away with bruising words hurled like stones after them as they hurried down the track.  To Teniloju, Romoke was as valuable as any son.  To ensure his daughter would never need anyone, he imbued her with a self-belief that set her apart from all those her age. 

         Teniloju and Romoke were helped by the fact that the hilly patch of earth they lived on was the most fertile stretch in the whole of Karele.  Behind the house was a farm that spread wide and lush down the other side of the mound; and since it was fenced, it was shielded from the townspeople’s eyes.  There, father and daughter grew the best vegetables, fruits and tubers in the town.  The farm supplied their household needs, with plenty more for the market, where they sold produce in bulk to traders all around, making Teniloju a very rich man by Karele’s modest standards. 

         But he never forgave the townspeople for thinking Romoke less of a child for being a girl, so he swore that his daughter would never marry any of the local men.  Besides, anyone lucky enough to win her heart would be marrying very well indeed, since she stood to inherit all her father’s property.  When Ijilaiye came to seek Romoke’s hand in marriage therefore, it was clear that the suitor was far too rich to be a gold-digger.   Many had come before him from far and wide and left disappointed.  But Ijilaiye was the most well off suitor by far - and the most handsome.  He would sweep through town, his richly embroidered agbada fluttering in the breeze.  And he would flash a dazzling, gap-toothed smile at those encountered on the way as he proceeded up the well-trodden dirt track to see his beloved.  

         Teniloju made sure the whole of Karele knew of his daughter’s coming nuptials and the impeccable credentials of the suitor.  To appease his long held grievance, the people threw themselves into the preparations, intent on making Romoke’s the best wedding the town had ever seen.  Nothing was to mar the big day, not even the elements.  On a well-paid commission from town elders, Akonila climbed up a hill the night before the wedding to perform a ritual that sealed up the sky - to ensure a rain-free ceremony. 

         Romoke - painted, regaled and veiled - was waited on in her father's house on the mound.  Chief among those attending to her was Yeye Oja, leader of the market women.

         "A man as beautiful as a woman," she said of Ijilaiye, "you are lucky to find such a man, Romoke."

         "But Romoke herself is no pushover when it comes to looks," another woman countered, "Ijilaiye is the lucky one."

         On and on they chattered around her, secretly glad that she would soon be married off and no longer be a temptation for the husbands of Karele, who had a great predilection for polygamy.  Preening around the soon-to-be-married Romoke, the women believed they were also seeing off a potential rival.  They sang to her joy, and theirs.

         Oni l’ojo ayo re

         Ojo ayo re

         Ojo ayo re...

         Today is your day of joy

         Your day of joy

         Your day of joy...

         Romoke smiled, unaware of the women’s self-serving motive.  She could barely contain her joy, as sounds of celebration grew louder with Ijilaiye’s approach to the town.  There were choruses and drumming, and the bride-to-be could imagine feet frenetically tapping the earth in joyous dancing.  From the sounds in the distance she guessed, correctly, that Ijilaiye’s party would be at the long bridge leading into Karele. Lapsing into daydreams, she saw her life that moment as a door flapping in the wind.  Soon, Ijilaiye would cross the bridge and the door would shut, sealing her happiness.

         But Efuufu-lele, demon of the seventh wind, must have flown into Karele to play dice.  What other way to explain what happened next? 

         Akonila later consulted the oracle and absolved Efuufu-lele of all blame.  His own father - the powerful babalawo he was - died saving the town from Efuufu-lele’s last rampage, twenty years before.  Akonila lived in fear of a recurrence.  He was glad to find the demon of the seventh wind innocent of the latest charges therefore, relieved that the dreaded tempest had not returned.