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An Oshun myth

Or, when an influencer wears the black

A certain time, the powers grew apart from the fire which animates the world, Olorun, Olodumaré-collective-consciousness, the deepest ancestral roots and the remotest sun-spring. Forgetting about Olorun everybody closed their eyes to the commons, they all became libertarians, lost into mazes of individualism.

Olorun became so remote as to withdraw behind the sun, and the fire of ashé flickered and died, the wheel of life was broken. The world became hotter and hotter, beset by droughts and forest fires, for the wind wouldn’t blow and the water wouldn’t rise into rain.

All of the orisha became distressed and tried to get in touch with Olorun, to make amends. But Olorun, Olorun leaves your messages on unread, Olorun does not pick up the call. Ogun decided to fly also beyond the sun, so he becomes soaring-eagle, he augments the eagle with propellers of the drone; but without ashé, the solar panels don’t charge, the circuits don’t close. Oyá storm-phoenix danced in the air, hot and wild, beautiful as the fatal sword-stroke; but the gale didn’t answer to her flogger any longer, the thunder didn’t care for the longing of her blade. Iemanjá ascended from the bottom of the bottomless ocean as the biggest pelican the world ’ever seen, yes even today; but with no children in her belly, with no fertility, the Mother-in-the-Deep is too depressed to fly.

Then Oshun appeared in a flurry of iridescent sparkles and announces she’ll be the one to solve y’all’s problem. You? Oshun bling-lover, Oshun the young-milf, Oshun Instagram-Queen who sells out to fashion brands? You're a ~peacock~, you’re not going to go viral on this you’re becoming a cringe video. How high can a peacock fly?

But Hot-Momma had no heart for haters, for her heart cried for her children, the humans in the future who don’t deserve this scorched dead-world. And, backed by nothing but her love and her justice, the peacock soared as easy as a magical girl. She flew so high that the sun started scorching her beautiful plummage, the sun melted all the gold piercings and jewels she has got from her many lovers, the sun blinded her with pain and destroyed her eyes, so she can’t know where she went. But the River-Mother thought of her children and let her witch-heart be her guide, and never gave up to nihilism.

And you already know how it happened, I’m sure: She found shy Olodumaré in the hidden heights behind the sun, and as for Olorun-Olodumaré they were touched by how raw and real this girl had been, and from their heart the fire of change, which is desire, which is ashé, returned to the world. That is how Oshun Lady-of-Fashion became the very messenger of the Collective themself, and even today if you want to talk to Olodumaré you better go ask her first. When she flew back to earth she didn’t say a word about the dogpiling the others did before, total Queen that she is. But as she came sky-soaring, bringing back the rain, the look of smug glory in her face was, in a word, epic.

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When Olodumaré met Oshun at their secret place, they saw also her secret, and this is what they saw.

Oshon’s pretty pretty tail-feathers had long burnt into ashes. Her muscles grew through the struggle, her crown-plumes shaved into a butch’s crop. Her wind-bent beak got so strong it could rip bones, and all the glam colours of her outfit were burned into uniform-black.

And this is why the vulture is a sacred bird to Oshun.

Oshun gold-lover with her sacred selfie mirror, Abebé.