A Rich Cultural Heritage and the Evolution of Yoruba Traditions
Okuku town, located in present-day Osun State, has a well-documented history of cultural promotion and preservation. Scholars such as Ulli Beier and Karin Barber have contributed significantly to understanding Yoruba cultural heritage through their works, including “Yoruba Beaded Crowns” (1982) and “I Could Speak until Tomorrow: Oriki, Women and the Past in a Yoruba Town” (1991). The late Yoruba playwright and culture icon, Adebayo Faleti, shared with me in 2004 that he wrote one of his major plays in Okuku during the 1950s.
Oba Moses Oyewole Oyinlola served as Olokuku of Okuku from 1938 to 1960. Known for his deep religious and cultural values, he passed away on 20 February 1960 and was buried two days later. During those two days, there were various rites performed in the town and palace. His grown-up male children feared that the king’s corpse might be tampered with by some traditionalists, so they devised a plan to protect it.
One of the sons was stationed in the palace room where the remains were laid in state, armed with a machete. Others remained nearby as backup. In the middle of the night, under curfew, a group of elderly individuals entered the room. These were the chiefs who had ruled alongside the deceased king. They did not see the young man with the machete. They began their rites, which involved prayers and wishes for the departed oba to intercede for them before the ancestors. After finishing their prayers, they left. The boy remained vigilant until the body was buried on 22 February 1960 at St Michael’s Cathedral, Okuku. The tomb still stands as the most prominent in the area.
The prince who witnessed this event shared the story with me in 2004 while I was researching the biography of the late oba, which was published in December 2005. Some traditionalists may argue that the prince saw something he wasn’t meant to, but he grew up to become a successful man, earned a PhD, and lived a long life before passing away a few years ago at nearly 90.
The recent death and burial of the Awujale of Ijebuland, Oba Sikiru Olukayode Adetona, have sparked renewed interest in who should bury an oba and what happens to the body of a king in Yorubaland when he dies. Questions have arisen about whether the bodies are mutilated or if the hearts of the deceased are removed for the installation of successors. Some even wonder if succeeding obas eat the hearts of their predecessors.
I have cited the Okuku case, and I have consulted various sources who claim that cannibalism is not part of Yoruba tradition. The late Awujale addressed the heart-eating myth in an old interview that recently went viral. He stated, “I cannot recall any rite that was done behind the scene. Let them come and tell me. It is all lies. Nothing like that. Okay, which heart did Orimolusi eat when Adeboye died in Tripoli? Besides, when Gbelegbuwa died, I wasn’t in the country. I was abroad and didn’t return until about a year after his death. So, which heart was given to me? I didn’t eat anything oooo. So, no such thing happened.” Other obas should also speak out to dispel these myths and prevent the Yoruba from being seen as man-eaters.
Some traditionalists are upset because the Awujale was buried by Muslims. However, what constitutes a traditional burial? For Muslims, the corpse is washed, shrouded in white cloth, and prayers are offered. The body is placed on its right side, facing the East. Similarly, the Lo Dagaa of northern Ghana, who are not Muslims, also bury their dead in this manner. This practice is mentioned in J. Goody’s book “Death, Property and the Ancestors: A Study of Mortuary Customs of the Lo Dagaa of West Africa,” published in 1962.
Historically, some kings received bad burials as punishment for misdeeds. Their bodies could be dismembered, and their possessions seized. When a good king died, the announcement was delayed so that his family could move items to his private residence. This was because, in theory, the king owned nothing as personal property. Everything belonged to the kingdom.
If the Yoruba tradition holds that the king’s body belongs to the community, then we must ask who represents that community today. Is it the majority Muslim or Christian groups, or the minority who claim tradition as their religion? If tradition is a people’s way of life, have Christianity and Islam not become part of the Yoruba way of life? There is even an Odu in Ifa that celebrates Islam and Muslims, called Odu Imale.
Tradition is not static; it evolves with society. It is a river that draws strength from its source but grows larger as it absorbs new tributaries. It would stagnate if it resists change. Tradition is not about clinging to a past that is long gone. What is traditional is not necessarily archaic.
The West introduced Christianity and civilization to African tribes, stopping certain practices such as the suicide of an Olokun Esin in Oyo, who was supposed to accompany the Alaafin to the ancestors. Since then, no Oyo king has had an entourage to heaven. Dying with the king was once a symbol of love and duty. However, this practice was eventually abolished due to its violent nature.
Traditions reflect a people’s way of life, encompassing inherited beliefs, practices, and values. However, they are not immutable. They evolve as societies progress, adapting to technological advancements and cultural influences. Even practices that once seemed essential can be reinterpreted or abandoned. For example, the evisceration of a French king’s body in 1547 was a ritualistic act, but such practices are no longer followed in the West, even though the monarchy itself was abolished in 1848.
As we bid farewell to the iconic Awujale, it is time for the Yoruba elite and commoners to focus on pressing development issues. As I told someone recently, the Yoruba have no true friends in Nigeria. It is time to prioritize real progress over minor disputes.
