By
Obododimma Ọha
*Diochi* the palm-wine tapper, in Igbo folklore, sees many things while tapping his wine up in the tree. Many many things. The palm-tree is an observatory. From there, *diochi* sees things.
Comparable to him is the hunter. He sees things and cannot narrate all that he sees. Otherwise, he would cease to see; he would go blind.
Is that not why the hunter and the palm-wine tapper are used in drama with predictable roles as knowers of secrets who have witnessed? Is that not why palm-wine tappers and hunters are considered special people?
*Diochi* knows. *Diochi* sees.* Diochi* sees and knows.* Diochi* knows how the wine is brewed. *Diochi* knows the blind bee or mad housefly participating in the cooking.
Look! *Diochi *has seen that man burying a charm in his neighbour's plot of land! *Diochi* has also seen the two elders on the way planning how to collaborate to upturn justice. So, *diochi* sees justice and injustice in the land! He must be very dangerous for he knows things.
*Diochi* is observation; watching over the land. Actually, this is what elders are required to do in Igbo culture. They are to watch over other citizens and give advice. So, diochi has joined. *Diochi* sees things, but is not allowed to voice these things out. That is one reason *diochi* whistles to avoid choking.
Why would *diochi* not hold back the narrative of some of the many things seen up there? There are many sights. And the many sights dare speech.
Think of what could happen if *diochi *tells all he sees while up there. That would cause chaos on the land. In the masquerade cult, it is called "ịkpọ ntụm" or "itikwe isi mmanụ" (doing what is not allowed or breaking the head of the masquerade; unauthorized exposure).
*Diochi* is a big lesson: it is not always what is seen that can be spoken about. What is sometimes spoken about may be an avoidance totally different from what has been seen.
Every cup of what *diochi* has brought down is a cup of stories. So, *diochi *is a narrative of narratives. How can anyone taste the cup and not learn something?
How can anyone drink what *diochi* has brought down from the palm-tree and not stagger?
Whenever *diochi* features in a film or play, expect a revelation. That is the standing presupposition. Someone has seen someone or something: just wait and see.
So, you see. It's about attaching censorship to assumed privilege. You are privileged to see, but not privileged to say.
How can one talk about palm-wine brewing, tapping, and drinking without paying tribute to Amos Tutuola's character, the "drinkard" in *The Palm-wine Drinkard*? The "Drinkard" is looking for his "tapster" and has to cross boundaries of reality in the process. He is looking for *diochi* who has gone with the breadth. But *diochi* is not looking for mortals like him. *Diochi* is the destination beyond narratives.
Looking for *diochi* is also a narrative. Tutuola's business is this. And looking for *diochi* means looking for narratives and their winding paths.
To drink what is in the calabash that comes down from the palm-tree is to drink narratives and the narratives in narratives. The narrative of the visiting honeybee and the narrative of the adventurous fly. *Diochi* is the narrative of narratives.
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