A feministic review of Kunle Afolayan’s movie, Aníkúlápó

Anikulapo

 By Adesola Ayo-Aderele

American celebrity, Doyle Brunson, says, ‘A man with money is no match against a man on a mission.’ I rewrite it to say that ‘A man with money is no match against a woman on a mission.’ This aptly summarises the end result of the relationship between Janus-faced Olori Arolake [Bimbo Ademoye] and migrant gigolo Saro, ably acted by Kunle Remi.

Saro wanders into Oyo town and immediately commands the attention of wealthy local businesswoman, Awarun [Sola Sobowale] who wastes no time in making him her kept man.

With the benefit of hindsight, the effortless way Saro settles into the role of Awarun’s loverboy, and Awarun’s warning to him as he later roils with Olori Arolake, are all evident of a man on his path to self destruction. But I digress.

Saro stands no chance of survival in Oyo Town on account of his relationship with nymphomaniac Awarun, whose appetite for young, impressionable males is public knowledge.

But she meets her match in Saro who quickly falls for Olori Arolake after Awarun helps him to secure a lucrative business deal with the Palace.

To other oloris, Arolake is an evil co-wife, but the movie audience is likely to be taken in by her faux innocence which buys pity for her upfront; and even as she fully unfolds, her unassuming mien readily makes her atrocities seemingly insignificant unless when viewed critically and dispassionately.

Arolake is a child bride, but she soon grows to love sex. Ironically, she loves it when it’s mostly illicit. While Arolake fends off Kabiyesi on the nights it’s her turn to be with Kabiyesi, she does everything imaginable to snatch Kabiyesi from other oloris’ beds at will. All she needs do is to pretend to be suddenly ill, only for her to grab a bewildered Kabiyesi in forceful embrace as she pulls him down to her bed, leaving the wife whose turn it is to wait for Kabiyesi forever. So, her co-wives spare no word in regularly dressing her down and she has no friend among them in real terms.

Her love for illicit sex draws her to Saro, never mind that she’s her husband Kabiyesi’s favourite wife. As for Saro, he has become audacious and, in effect, suicidal, as he accepts Arolake’s offer of love, probably to pay back Awarun for her consort with other young men. He meets a violent end after the Palace discovers the abominable relationship and orders his summary execution.

But an equally audacious Arolake, helplessly in love with the incredibly handsome and young Saro, risks all, confronts the spirit of death as represented by Akalamagbo the bird, and not only defeats death on behalf of Saro, she manages to secure the gourd containing death’s power! Saro doesn’t know this, however.

The significance of the movie’s title comes to the fore as Saro and Arolake escape to Ojumo Town after weeks of deadly wandering in the forest.

At Ojumo Town, their benefactor, a hunter, loses his son. After much persuasion and encouragement from Arolake, Saro summons up courage and uses Akala’s power, handed over to him by Arolake, to raise up their benefactor’s son from the dead.

The question is, what was Arolake thinking when she handed the gourd to Saro? Did she intend to buy his lifetime loyalty to her? Couldn’t she have employed the gourd herself, with Saro playing the gentleman-husband as his wife makes waves with the magical power?

To expect Saro to sit by while Arolake gets the accolades is to deliberately misunderstand Saro’s character portrayal and, more importantly, the patriarchal system that abounds. In a patriarchal society, the woman is to be seen and not heard. Her role is to be a stay-at-home mother and raise the kids, do the endless household chores, etc. The idea of a working woman is for her to work as farmhand, preferably in her husband’s farm.

Awarun doesn’t fit into this mould, hence her extreme independence, which is rather daring when one considers the timeline of the movie. Awarun’s character is reminiscent of EfunsetanAniwura [though without the sex], the legendary Iyalode of Ibadan and one of the pre-eminent slave traders in the 19th century Ibadan.

In any case, the raising of the hunter’s son from the dead is the beginning of Saro’s immense prosperity and, in the same vein, his ultimate end; however, with no Arolake to save him ultimately!

American clergy man Andy Stanley says, ‘Greed is not a financial issue. It’s a heart issue.’ As Saro uses the magical gourd to raise the dead far and near, he becomes rich and powerful and, like the Greek magnate Aristotle Onassis is quoted to have said in one of his biographical movies, whenever Saro sees any female, he only thinks of bedding them.

From the rape of his wife Arolake’s maid to marrying more wives, Saro does it all. Arolake, whom he fondly calls his guardian at the initial stage, soon pales into insignificance in Saro’s polygamous setup, with the younger wives regularly taunting her about her infecundity. Saro makes her a punchbag at some point. But Arolake is a patient dog.

As time passes, Saro’s lustful eyes wander towards Ojumo Town’s delectable Princess Omowunmi. On one occasion in his lust-induced reverie, he unabashedly licks his mouth in anticipation of what might be as he casts his uncontrolled gaze on the fair princess.

His chance to ask for the princess’ hand in marriage comes when the Ojumo Town’s heir-apparent dies suddenly. A desperate Oba of Ojumo calls for Saro to come use his power to raise his son, with a promise to give him anything he might desire.

A confident Saro looks the king in the eye and asks for the hand of Princess Omowunmi in marriage.

The overly surprised and murderously angry King of Ojumo agrees, but Saro’s day of reckoning has dawned. He tries several times to raise the King’s heir, but, like the biblical Samson, his power has deserted him. It turns out that his erstwhile guardian, Arolake, has had enough of maltreatment by a man she sacrificed all for, and has assumed the garb of Delilah.

In his 1697play titled‘The Mourning Bride,’ William Congreve, an English author of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, states: “Heav’n has no rage, like love to hatred turn’d, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorn’d.”Saro is about to experience the full import of this evergreen statement!

Unbeknownst to Saro, Arolake has emptied the magical gourd of its content, with an ignorant Saro still going about with an empty, ineffective gourd!

An angry Oba asks that a failed Saro be beheaded. And, for the second time, Saro dies, but this time, it’s final, with no guardian angel Arolake to save him as is the case the first time…

Can we blame Arolake for Saro’s woes? Maybe, maybe not, depending on the angle from which it is seen. To me, however, Arolake is no saint, though Saro would still have met his Waterloo at some point without Arolake’s instrumentality. His vanity and unbridled appetite for women would have ensured it, as Awarun may likely not sit by while he shuttles from one woman to another in revenge for her infidelity.

I recommend Aníkúlápó movie for men who think they could mess around women once they hit gold. Akalamagbo certainly lurks in the corner!

 

Ayo-Aderele is a journalist, film analyst and communications strategist.