Once upon a time, there was a blacksmith called Jallo who was famous all over the land for his smithing skills. People came from far and near to seek him out. He had a number of young apprentices from nearby villages learning the trade from him. Jallo was a rather strict man but he was also very generous and kind. He never short changed his customers and he was fair to his apprentices. Whenever Jallo felt any of his apprentices had learnt enough, he would give them money and tools to go and start their own workshop. His apprentices moved back to their own villages or went elsewhere to work. However, no matter what they did, their own products were never as good as that of Jallo. One day, all the young men who had worked under Jallo had a meeting. At this meeting, it was decided that there was a mystery behind why they were not as successful as their Master. They all believed that Jallo was adding a secret substance to his metals that made his work superior.
There were also some who said Jallo must have a charm that transferred all the good fortune of his apprentices to him. There were different suggestions made at the meeting. Some felt they should approach Jallo directly and ask him. Another said they should plant a spy in the midst of the current apprentices to find out what the secret substance was. It was even suggested that Jallo be kidnapped and tortured till he confessed his secret. The final decision taken was that they would consult a powerful medicine man called Bemiwo, who would be in a position to reveal the secret to them. On an agreed day, all the aggrieved apprentices met at Bemiwo’s place. After listening to them, Bemiwo asked them to come back the following day, and bring along any tools Jallo had ever given them. The apprentices brought their tools the next day. Bemiwo examined the tools carefully. He then said a few words into some cowries and threw them on the floor. After peering at the cowries he nodded his head and cleared his throat. ‘Young men, I have some information for you. For the past fifteen years, a certain man has been coming to see me. Each time he comes, he brings some tools with him. There is a particular incantation that I prepared for him that we use each time he brings the tools. This is what it is:
I beseech our ancestors to look favourably upon these tools
I beseech Ogun, the God of Iron to hear my pleas
Make these tools strong and firm
The same way the Iroko tree stands tall and unyielding in the forest
Let these tools be as invincible
Just like the earth gives way for the farmer planting his seeds
Please let these tools pave the way to progress for the user
I beg of thee, owner of all that moves and does not move
END
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