The Twin Brothers

A certain Yorùbá king, Ajaka, had a favourite wife of whom he was very fond; but she gave birth to twins. At that time it was the universal custom to destroy twins immediately at birth, and the mother with them. But the king had not the heart to put this cruel law into execution, and he secretly charged one of his nobles to conduct the royal mother and her babes to a remote place where they might live in safety. There the twin brothers grew to manhood, and loved one another greatly. They were inseparable, and neither of them had any pleasure except in the company of the other. Ogumefu gives one line for this that is worth quoting: > When one brother began to speak, the other completed his phrase, so harmonious were their thoughts and inclinations. Their mother, before she died, informed them of their royal birth, and from that moment they spent the time vainly regretting their exile and wishing that the law of the country had made it possible for them to reign. At last they received news that the king their father was dead, leaving no heir, and it seemed to the brothers that one of them ought to go to the capital and claim the throne. But which? To settle the point they decided to cast stones, and the one who made the longer throw should claim the throne, and afterwards send for his brother to share in his splendour. The lot fell on the younger of the twins. He set off to the capital, announced himself as the Ọlọ́fin's son, and soon became king with the consent of all the people. As soon as possible he sent for his brother, who henceforth lived with him in the palace and was treated with honour and distinction. But jealousy began to overcome brotherly affection, and one day as he walked with the king by the side of the river, he pushed his brother suddenly into the water, where he was drowned. He then gave out in the palace that his brother was weary of kingship and had left the country, desiring him to reign in his stead. The king had certainly disappeared, and as no suspicion fell on the twin brother, he was made king, and so realised his secret ambition. Some time later, happening to pass by the very spot where his brother had been drowned, he saw a fish rise to the surface of the water and begin to sing: Original The Yorùbá is not given. Ogumefu prints the song in English only. Literal gloss (No Yorùbá text recorded in source) Idiomatic English (as printed) > Your brother lies here, > Your brother lies here. Translator: M. I. Ogumefu The king was very much afraid. He took up a sharp stone and killed the fish. But another day when he passed the spot, attended by his nobles and shielded by the royal umbrella made of the skins of rare animals, the river itself rose into waves and sang the same two lines. In astonishment the courtiers stopped to listen. Their suspicions were aroused, and when they looked into the water they found the body of the king. Thus the secret of his disappearance was disclosed, and the wicked brother was rejected in horror by his people. At this disgrace he took poison and so died. Notes on the song. No Yorùbá survives and nothing is reconstructed. What survives is the shape: two identical lines, sung twice in the tale by two different singers, the second time in public. It is the shortest song in this section and it does the most work, since it is simultaneously the accusation, the evidence and the location of the body.