When are we going to have orisa legislations in the southwest Nigeria to prosecute blasphemy against indigenous Orisa and Irunmole, with the imposition of death penalty on anybody who blasphemes against our indigenous holy names?
For example, should there be a death penalty imposed on anyone who calls Esu “Satan,” as believers do in churches and mosques daily in Yorubaland?
If you were given the choice as a parent to produce just one child in your life, would you rather have a boy or a girl?
Traditionally we would all say a boy.
Now take a look at the pillar that these Amazon women are building.
It is made of steel inside, and it is covered by clay.
I have traveled to New York, Los Angeles, Berlin, London, Toronto, Sofia, Beijing, Paris, Athens, Rome, Tokyo and Kyoto.
I have been to several other cities of the West and the East.
Let me bring you something I observed from my travels:
The natives of these places don’t speak Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, Twi, Zulu or any language form Africa.
My first day of classes today.
I am teaching “Africana Women’s Art.”
The class is remote with about fifty students in it.
The child is highly valued in indigenous Yoruba culture. As I look at the images sent…
Do you know why people say Ọbá wàjà (the monarch climbed the rafter) and not Ọbá kú (the monarch died)?
You will find the answer to the riddle in Ìrẹtẹ̀ Méjì.
Orunmila was a monarch, who gave birth to several other monarchs including Alárá, Ajerò, Ọlọ́wọ̀ and several others.
You will also find out in Ìrẹtẹ̀ Méjì why Yoruba people (ọmọ a yọ orù bá wọn tọ́jú) do not die, but climb the rafter.
Fear Not the Storm
Àwa kò bẹ̀rù (We are not afraid)
Àyà kò fò wá (Scared are we not)
Olódùmarè lalákǒso (The Almighty is in charge)
Kò sí bí ìjì náà ṣe lè tó (However wild the storm may rage)
Àwa ọmọ Irúnmọlẹ̀ (We are the children of Divine forces)
As I think about my new granddaughter, my daughter and what they know about me, about Africa, and about their tradition, a tormenting thought ran through my mind:
We, members of my generation, stand between the light and the void. And we are the last stand holding up the ancestral heritage. We must mine what is available and keep them in a culture bank, or too much will perish.
Yesterday, my daughter gave birth to my second granddaughter.And I almost got arrested yesterday.I met this police officer at my favorite coffee shop.One of those cops who rode huge bikes. As he got down from his bike, I was parking my jeep.I guessed he came for coffee as I did.
One may live long
And one may not.
One should share whatever one could to posterity when one is still able to do so.
This morning I decided to share this Odu because it is very important.
To all Omo a yọ orù bá wọn tọ́jú ọmọ tuntun;
Ọmọ́ gbó,
Orù ò gbó:
the offspring of those who bring out the orù pot of herbs to care for infants;
the baby prospers,
and the pot does not falter.”
FINALLY, I FIGURED IT OUT: A Mid-Summer Night’s Dream? The time was exactly 01:23 am. “Iya…