Eku festival: When cutlasses dance, families mourn,
For generations, the Urhobo community of Eku in Ethiope East Local Government Area of Delta State counted down the days to their annual festival like Christians awaiting Christmas.
Families of the predominantly Baptist community scattered across the country would return home. Music would spill from every corner. The various quarters would gather in colourful displays of cultural heritage and pride. It was a time to celebrate, to reunite, to remember who they were. But something has changed. The drums still beat, the cutlasses still flash, but now they carry a darker meaning. Some natives no longer call it a festival. They nicknamed it the “Eku Feast of Blood.”
Andrew, a sexagenarian and son of the soil, speaks with the weariness of a man who has seen too many young bodies carried away. He says at least 15 people have been killed during the festival in the past two decades.”We used to look forward to the festival,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Now, parents worry about whether their children will return home alive.” He stressed this with the gravity of a man who has seen too many funerals of youths. Another resident, Oniovosa, puts the figure higher, saying more than 20 had died in the last 20 years.
This year, that fear came true again. Last Monday, while the town was still swaying to the rhythm of celebration, word spread like wildfire: three youths had been killed in the community. They had been part of the festivities. Within minutes, graphic photographs and videos flooded social media, turning a day of joy into one of grief, panic and disbelief.
For a member of Isaac’s family, one of the deceased who rode Okada to help himself, the tragedy cut deepest. In a video that has since broken hearts across the state, she wailed uncontrollably, recalling how she had warned him before he left home. He had told her he was going to Osuere, the geographical centre of the community before its expansion, with a friend to have fun. “He is gone, he is gone,” she cried. “Isaac, mevuewo o memera. Isaac, I told you to be careful as you were going.” What felt like an ordinary warning became a final goodbye. The words echo now in the empty home.
The circumstances of the killings remain unclear, with conflicting accounts emerging. Some claimed it was a supremacy battle between rival groups. Others insisted it had nothing to do with cultism. “ This thing is spiritual, whether you blame it on cultism or not, for me it is spiritually manipulated,” one youth said, his voice trembling with frustration. “People should stop giving every killing in our community the same explanation without investigating what truly happened,” he stressed. According to some accounts, a man received a phone call that a member of his group had been shot elsewhere. And he allegedly grabbed a pump-action rifle and later opened fire on three youths. How true the foregoing is, the Police will tell at the end of its investigation. The Police are still investigating, but for the families of the dead, no investigation can bring back their sons.
The violence did not end with gunshots. About five others were rushed to different hospitals in the local government area with deep cutlass wounds.
Kenneth, a resident, explained that cutlasses are part of the traditional festival; youths dance with them to display strength and bravery. “But if you cut someone , the person may retaliate,” he says, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tradition and tragedy. “A small disagreement can quickly become a serious fight.” One of the deceased killed that black Monday was found with a cutlass injury around the neck, a grim testament to how a symbol of heritage has become an instrument of death.
For years, deaths at the festival have been dismissed as cult clashes. But residents say no one has allegedly been convicted over the killing. Some tried to link this latest tragedy to politics, but that was quickly rejected.
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