400-Year-Old Triumph Over “Akalajolu”: Oloja Epe Chronicles How Canes Replaced Swords, Lionheart Warriors Halted Invaders and Slave Traders at Fierce Coastal Battle.

In a dramatic reenactment rich with ancestral symbolism and historic reverence, Kakalistiq.com reports that the ancient town of Epe came alive on Saturday, May 4, 2025, as His Royal Majesty, Oba Kaorudeen Ishola Animashaun, Arolugbade Elepe II (the Oloja of Epe Land) led the people in celebrating Eebi/Okoshi/Kilajolu, one of Nigeria’s grandest and most enduring heritage festivals.

Amid the pulse of prayers and rhythmic chants at his majesty’s palace, symbolic flogging rituals were performed; an act that, to the observer, felt akin to a modern Chief of Defence Staff receiving instructions from a Commander-in-Chief before marching to war. Yet, beneath the vibrant cultural displays lay a deeply historical spirit: a 300- to 400-year-old memory of how brave Epe warriors repelled invaders and resisted the scourge of slavery.

In an audience with pressmen at his regal palace, the monarch peeled back layers of Epe’s heritage, recalling the events that birthed the festival and underscoring its sacred purpose: honoring the ancestors, invoking divine protection, and seeking prosperity.

“It has existed for decades, having been inherited 300-400 years ago,” the king began. “It unites the community and the age-grade system. Respect and regard are accorded to the elders through the age-grade system. You dare not disrespect those older than you. As Ijebu, an ancient town, we don’t joke with age. You’ll see that age-grade groups are highly social, which is the etutu of Epe. This festival was used to stop slavery. The boat regatta has a history; it is a replica of the boat paddled by Epe’s heroic warriors who stopped the invaders on the Epe River.”

The royal chronicler narrated how the infamous figure known as Akalajolu, a brutal slave raider described as a “human camouflage”, once terrorized Epe’s shores, abducting people into bondage. His defeat, as passed down through oral history, marked a turning point for the town.

“Akalajolu is a human camouflage used to invade and take the Epe people into slavery. Since its ignominious defeat, it has been said that the festival must be celebrated annually to ward off calamities because it is a reminder of the bravery of Epe warriors. Instead of using swords in remembrance, the elders came up with the idea of a replacement with canes after making due sacrifices,” Oloja said.

The very soul of Epe’s identity, etched in poetic cognomens like “Epe kukuru losan, gbonran gbonran loru, Epe Onida majegi majeniyan”, is intertwined with this victory. According to the monarch, these praises reflect the community’s resilience and the spiritual cost of freedom.

He revealed that a certain individual came and couldn’t return, but was buried in Epe and made a sacrifice at Oju-Alaro shrine. “This is because the person was a brutal slave trader who killed at will if anyone antagonised him while transacting.”

At the spiritual core of the celebration are Epe’s ancient masquerades, revered deities, and sacred shrines; reminders of a people who fought with more than just physical strength.

“During this period,” the monarch stated, “deities and masquerades such as Agira, Ajeye, and a particular one called Ajo, which is highly potent for female fertility and childbearing, take the centre stage. The moment Ajo delivers, such a woman must deliver as well, despite the expensive financial implications the sacrifices attract.”

He continued, describing the awe surrounding Ajo, a colossal masquerade as gigantic as five or six people. Its power, he said, is only matched by the dedication of its keepers.

“When the Ajo masquerade is dressed up, it’s up to six to five people in size. It’s our heritage. If you recall, some time ago, when war broke out in Epe, we had no swords or guns, but our enemies surrendered in the end. It’s not by accident because we appease our deities. And if we talk about Epe Alaro Ogumude, it’s for a purpose: they have their shrines, which don’t dry off. This is another sacred truth,” he affirmed.

Yet in this age of modernity, the Oloja emphasised that Epe no longer calls upon spiritual warfare as its ancestors did. The community, now a bustling, cosmopolitan hub, chooses to coexist peacefully.

Still, the festival’s ripple effect extends far beyond Epe. The Oloja proudly noted how this sacred observance acts as a cultural signal, ushering in other Ijebu sub-festivals across neighboring communities.

“It is after Epe’s Eebi/Okoshi festival that the entire Akile Ijebu begin to celebrate theirs: Agbowa does Agbo, Ikorodu does Eluku and that’s when you beging to see Jigbo across various Ijebu land.”

On the economic front, the king highlighted how the season brings rejuvenation to local commerce, from fishing and farming to trading and tourism. The festival opens with sacred rites at the Oju-Alaro shrine at Marina, where Imale Omi, the river deity, is invoked to bless the land and shield it from evil.

“Earlier during the ‘Iyanforon’ at the Oju-Alaro section of the Marina, the river deity (Imale Omi) is called upon to ward off evil and calamities,” the monarch added. He also offered fervent prayers for the town’s continued progress and prosperity.

As drums, trumpets, and whistles faded into the evening, mist and canes struck the air in rhythm rather than battle, Epe – Aleke and Ebode – stood once again at the intersection of memory and celebration. With each year, Odun Ebi Okoshi doesn’t just retell a story; it reaffirms the town’s triumph over darkness, its devotion to culture, and its unity in ancestral pride.