In a gripping but evergreen musical rendition of a Yoruba fictional folksong, late Fuji music lord, Ayinde Barrister, once deployed the canvas of the forest to paint the inequality of the world. In his Fuji New Waves album, he also depicted the acrimonies that follow the sharing of jointly hunted games. What the anecdote tells us is that, if we listen to the unspoken voices of the forest, humanity may find answers to some of its knotty matters. The narrator and about eleven of his friends, had gone on a hunting expedition in the forest. After a very tedious day-long exercise, the crew stumbled on a fleshy Àgbọ̀nrín (deer) which it instantly killed. Excited at having killed such a game as reward for its toil, the hunting party whistled excitedly home, the day-long hunting barely allowing them to lift their languid legs. The hapless animal was strung to the neck of one of them like a priceless necklace, blood dripping from its mouth. On getting to the village, the…
