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AKOSE IFA OGUNDABEDE (SPELL) TO SPIRITUALLY ARREST A THIEF BY BABALAWO OBANIFA-Obanifa extreme documentaries
                                   

One of the Akose Ifa available in Yoruba spirituality that can be used to spiritually arrest a thief is Akose Ifa  Ogundabede to arrest a thief.This Akose Ifa normally function as anti-thefts spell. To prepare this spell you will need:

Ewe abo(leaves of Annona snegalenses)

Ewe lamule(leaves of cassia arereh)

Ewe Okikun(leaves palmae)

Preparation

You will burn the three aforementioned leaves together and pour it  inside small gourd. You will keep it under the ceiling.

Copyright :Babalawo Pele Obasa Obanifa, phone and whatsapp contact :+2348166343145, location Ile Ife osun state Nigeria.

IMPORTANT NOTICE : As regards the article above, all rights reserved, no part of this article may be reproduced or duplicated in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying and recording or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the copyright holder and the author Babalawo Obanifa, doing so is considered unlawful and will attract legal consequences



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 Uno de los Akose Ifa disponibles en la espiritualidad Yoruba que puede usarse para arrestar espiritualmente a un ladrón es Akose Ifa Ogundabede para arrestar a un ladrón. Este Akose Ifa normalmente funciona como un hechizo antirrobo.  Para preparar este hechizo necesitarás:

 Oveja abo (hojas de Annona snegalenses)

 Oveja lamule (hojas de casia arereh)

 Oveja Okikun (deja palmae)

 Preparación


 Quemarás las tres hojas mencionadas anteriormente y las verterás dentro de una pequeña calabaza.  Lo mantendrás debajo del techo.

 Copyright: Babalawo Pele Obasa Obanifa, teléfono y contacto de WhatsApp: +2348166343145, ubicación Ile Ife osun state Nigeria.

 AVISO IMPORTANTE: en lo que respecta al artículo anterior, todos los derechos reservados, ninguna parte de este artículo puede reproducirse o duplicarse de ninguna forma ni por ningún medio, electrónico o mecánico, incluyendo fotocopias y grabaciones, o por cualquier sistema de almacenamiento o recuperación de información sin permiso previo por escrito  del titular de los derechos de autor y del autor Babalawo Obanifa, hacerlo se considera ilegal y traerá consecuencias legales



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  Um dos Akose Ifa disponíveis na espiritualidade iorubá que pode ser usado para prender espiritualmente um ladrão é Akose Ifa Ogundabede para prender um ladrão. Esse Akose Ifa normalmente funciona como feitiço anti-roubo.  Para preparar esse feitiço, você precisará de:

  Ovelha abo (folhas de Annona snegalenses)

  Lâmina de ovelha (folhas de cassia arereh)

  Ovelha Okikun (folhas palmae)

  Preparação


  Você queimará as três folhas acima mencionadas e a colocará dentro de uma cabaça pequena.  Você o manterá sob o teto.

  Direitos autorais: Babalawo Pele Obasa Obanifa, telefone e whatsapp: +2348166343145, local Ile Ife osun state Nigeria.

  AVISO IMPORTANTE: Com relação ao artigo acima, todos os direitos reservados, nenhuma parte deste artigo pode ser reproduzida ou duplicada de qualquer forma ou por qualquer meio, eletrônico ou mecânico, incluindo fotocópia e gravação ou por qualquer sistema de armazenamento ou recuperação de informações sem permissão prévia por escrito  do detentor dos direitos autorais e do autor Babalawo Obanifa, fazê-lo é considerado ilegal e atrairá consequências legais



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  L'un des Akose Ifa disponibles dans la spiritualité Yoruba qui peut être utilisé pour arrêter spirituellement un voleur est Akose Ifa Ogundabede pour arrêter un voleur. Cet Akose Ifa fonctionne normalement comme un sort antivol.  Pour préparer ce sort, vous aurez besoin de:

  Ewe abo (feuilles d'Annona snegalenses)

  Lamelle de brebis (feuilles de cassia arereh)

  Ewe Okikun (feuilles de palmae)

  Préparation


  Vous allez brûler ensemble les trois feuilles susmentionnées et les verser dans une petite gourde.  Vous le garderez sous le plafond.

  Copyright: Babalawo Pele Obasa Obanifa, contact par téléphone et WhatsApp: +2348166343145, emplacement Ile Ife, état d'osun, Nigeria.

  AVIS IMPORTANT: En ce qui concerne l'article ci-dessus, tous droits réservés, aucune partie de cet article ne peut être reproduite ou dupliquée sous quelque forme ou par quelque moyen que ce soit, électronique ou mécanique, y compris la photocopie et l'enregistrement ou par tout système de stockage ou de récupération d'informations sans autorisation écrite préalable  du titulaire du droit d'auteur et de l'auteur Babalawo Obanifa, le faire est considéré comme illégal et entraînera des conséquences juridiques

Kutiro-Balafon-Sabar = Drums Ensemble…

****Music of the Mande –  Gambian Tantango=Kutiro Drumming…
The Mandinka Drum Ensemble consists of three Drums. The leader plays the long Sabaro, assisted by two Drummers playing the Kutiro – small Kutirindingo and larger Kutiriba. Drum troupes play for recreational dances and various festivities. The Mandinka, descendants of the Mande peoples of western Africa, now reside primarily in Senegal, Gambia, and Guinea-Bissau. Among the Mande people in general, rhythm expressed as drumming is linked with all forms of movement, be it dancing, wrestling, procession, or agricultural labor.

There is a defined hierarchy within the ensemble where the Sabaro takes the fore, both musically, and socially. A Drummer will begin a long apprenticeship, usually starting in youth, gradually working from Kutiros to Sabaro as his skill increases. The Tantango ensemble is employed in many life-cycle rituals circumcisions, fertility, agricultural and recreational, wrestling events.  The most prominent such event is recreational dance Bantaba and singing held in a wide-open space in the center of a village or at a crossroads in town. Participants amass in circles which can vary in size: sometimes with barely enough room for dancers, at other times as large as city blocks with rented folding chairs placed along the sides of the street for guests. The Bantaba events begin with a signature recreational dance – Lenjengo, danced primarily by women and girls, and which typically includes a collection of rhythms, songs, and dances leading up to the “Lenjengo” a fully engaged dance-music gathering that could go on indefinitely. The term Tantango is often used to refer to any of these Drums, and sometimes the ensemble is called a Seruba ensemble after the name of an important dance event in which they are played. The ensemble is used throughout the Gambia and Cassamance as far east as Tambacounda.

Evidence from neighboring Drumming traditions suggests that the Mandinka may have fashioned their Drums after models used in their new Senegambian homeland or even acquired them there. Both the name and the shape of the Mandinka Sabaro and Wolof Sabar Drums are very similar, and the method of attaching the head to the body is the same for these two as well as for the other Mandinka and Wolof Drums. But in contrast to the Mandinka ensemble, fixed at three Drums and rarely augmented, Wolof Sabar-based ensembles consist of more Drums and can accommodate large numbers of players. In the case of celebrations with many participants, the Mandinka ensemble is still not augmented; rather, many ensembles play for smaller groups within the larger crowd. In addition to Wolof influence, there is also an exchange of rhythms between Jola and Mandinka, even though the Jola play the very different Bugarabu, a group of three of four large Drums played by a single person with bare hands. The practice of wearing iron jingles (Jawungo) around the wrist is widespread among Mandinka and Jola Drummers as well as Bala.


Each Drum is played with one hand and a short stick approximately of nine inches long; the two Kutiro Drums are sometimes played with both bare hands. The minimal vocabulary necessary to play the Drums consists of two different hand strokes and two different stick strokes. The hand strokes are an open bounce (kun) where a clear tone is produced, and closed damped stroke (Ba) where the fingers press on the head and remain there. The stick strokes are a bounce (Din) and a press (Da). With two hand sounds and two stick sounds on each Drum, a strikingly full orchestral sound can be created by just the two Kutiro Drums.
As a village rather than urban event, Lenjengo can be contrasted in organization with analogous urban Jembe Drumming (Dununba)events in Mali and Guinea. In Lenjengo a long-term compositional process is at work with a specific sequence of pieces. While the Sabaro Drummer  plays the phrases linked with the entrances, exits, and other movements of the dancers, the two Kutiro Drummers play the indentifying parts that are unique to each dance.

The stage presentation Mandinka Drumming and dancing has a history that is now over half a century old. New traditions have developed, moving Drumming in a variety of directions. Although some of these traditions flourished abroad, the general recognition of Africa as a wellspring of a deeply entrenched culture of drumming and dancing still operates. The number, diversity, depth, and uniqueness of Drumming traditions in Africa are astounding. So is the musical sophistication and power that can be routinely achieved by a small ensemble of instruments with a limited palette of sounds.

***Drum Call – The Drum call begins all ceremonies. The Drums speak the opening prayer and request blessings for the dance ceremony to begin. The purpose of the drum call is to contain the spirits that would normally be invoked through the dances. The drum call is also called “Baque.” Each ethnic group has its own “Baque,” and within each ethnic group every family has its own special rhythms that are passed down from generation to generation.

Forango: Sitick 9″ long … Jawungo = Bell – Iron Rattles … Kusango – Peg …(5″Long Hole -5/8″)  Bora or Bisango – Beard or Skirt for Sabaro… Minango – Antelope Skin… Fasango – To Lace… Manduka – Mallet…

“Sabaro = 6  – 7″ Diameter 25 – 27″ Long…(4 1/4″) Kutiriba = 9  – 10″  Diameter 15 – 17″ Long…(4 1/2″) Kutirindingo = 7 – 8″ Diameter 12 – 14″ Long…(4″)

Griot, Jaly, or Ayan (keepers of African oral traditions) dies, they literally take libraries of African music and dance to the grave where it is entombed and lost to the world forever. Since the music and dance of Africa is largely an oral tradition that is verbally passed down from one generation to the next, sheet music is not available. Younger generations of Africans no longer practice or know the traditional music and dance of their Ancestors, therefore, African music and dance is an endangered species.

                     ***The  African Balafon:  Listen – Feel & Move…

An instrument known to have existed during the Mali Empire, the Balafon has been and still is popular in West Africa. Its name has a Manding origin but the name varies in some parts like Sierra Leone, Ghana, Cote d’Ivoire and Burkina Faso. Balafon means the “act of playing the Bala,” with “Balan” corresponding to the instrument, while “fo” a verb meaning “to play” in the Malinke language. Guinea’s Susu and Malinke peoples, as well as the Manding people dwelling in Senegal, Mali, and Gambia are the popular users of the instrument. Balafon traditions were also recorded in Chad, Cameroon, and around the Congo Basin. In Ancient times, the Balafon is considered a sacred instrument that is exclusive to trained and skilled caste members. It was stored in a temple for safekeeping and can only be played at certain traditional and ritual occasions such as funerals, weddings, and festivals. Not to mention that the Balafon has to be purified first before being played.

According to one of the Mandingo myths, the first inhabitant of the Earth coming down from the sky was a blacksmith. It is certainly not by chance that the Balafon played an important part in the history of the accession of the kingdom of Mali. Castes formed, and among them the blacksmith was found at the center of all craft activities and became powerful. Without him there would be no weapons for hunting, nor farming implements, nor cooking utensils. He was master of fire and wood. Traditionally, it was he who sculpted the shell of the Djembe, or the slats of the Balafon.  The Bala-Fola’s gesture is the same as the blacksmith’s. Beating with the stick is the same movement as with the hammer and the slat replaces the anvil. Everything seems to indicate that the first Balafon players were smiths.
Amongst thousands of percussion instruments, there is an important family, the mallet instruments. Xylophones, vibraphones, marimbas,  have a common Ancestor – the African Bala. The culture of Balafon music is highly developed in the countries south of the Sahara desert and the tropical rain forest.  With the ethnic groups like the Senoufos, Bobos, Miankans, Lobis,  Toussiens, Samogos, Gouins or Tourakans (Mali, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Guinea, Ghana) a large Bala can have up to 21 slats. Normally, the Balafon is tuned from the lowest to the highest note, usually in a pentatonic chord (five tones), like, for example, the black mallets on a piano keyboard. Nowadays, “western” chords can be found as well, like diatonic and chromatic. But at all times, African musicians have known how to cope with influences coming from abroad in an own, original style.

Gum-rubber mallets on a balafon: A Balafon can be either fixed-key or free-key. The Balafon is generally capable of producing 18 to 21 notes, though some are built to produce many fewer notes. Balafon keys are traditionally made from Béné wood, dried slowly over a low flame, and then tuned by shaving off bits of wood from the underside of the keys. Wood is taken off the middle to flatten the key or the end to sharpen it. In a fixed-key Balafon, the keys are suspended by leather straps just above a wooden frame, under which are hung graduated-size calabash gourd resonators. A small hole in each gourd is covered with a membrane traditionally of thin spider’s-egg sac filaments – nowadays more usually of cigarette paper or thin plastic film to produce the characteristic nasal-buzz timbre of the instrument, which is usually played with two gum-rubber-wound mallets while seated on a low stool or while standing using a shoulder or waist sling hooked to its frame. This effect is accentuated by the sound of metal bracelets attached to the player’s wrist. Mallets and resonators are fixed on a frame of wood sticks and strings made of goat’s skin.

Regional traditions: As the Balafon cultures vary across West Africa, so does the approach to the instrument itself. In many areas the Balafon is played alone in a ritual context, in others as part of an ensemble. In Guinea and Mali, the Balafon is often part of an ensemble of three, pitched low, medium and high. The Susu and Malinké people of Guinea are closely identified with the Bala, as are the other Manding peoples of Mali, Senegal, and the Gambia. Cameroon, Chad, and even the nations of the Congo Basin have a long Balafon traditions.

The Bala, kora , and the Ngoni  are the three instruments most associated with Griot bardic traditions of West Africa. Each is more closely associated with specific areas, communities, and traditions, though all are played together in ensembles throughout the region. Guinea has been the historic heartland of solo Balafon.  The Balafon, also known as Balafo, Bala, Balani, Gyil, and Balangi, is a type of tuned percussion instrument. It is played by using two padded sticks to strike the tuned keys.

***The gyil  is the name of a buzzing  Balafon common to the Gur-speaking populations in northern Ghana, Burkina Faso, southeastern Mali and northern Ivory Coast in West Africa…

In some cultures the Balafon was and in some still is a sacred instrument, playable only by trained religious caste members and only at ritual events such as festivals, royal, funeral, or marriage celebrations. Here the Balafon is kept in a temple storehouse, and can only be removed and played after undergoing purification rites. Specific instruments may be built to be only played for specific rituals and repertoires. Young adepts are trained not on the sacred instrument, but on free-key pit Balafons.

                                     *** Sabar Wolof Drums ***
Sabar drumming is the very exciting syncopated drumming of the Wolof tribe in Senegal and Gambia. The Djola and Mandinka Sabar is very rare. The only place to see this Sabar is in rural areas during a ceremony such as a naming ceremony, wedding, or birthday. Wolof sabar can be seen throughout Senegal and Gambia in urban areas as well as rural. Sabar is not complete without the dance. Of course this is true with most drumming in West Africa. The dance is a very beautiful style… almost even like a martial arts. Sabar dancers display incredible flexibility and agility.

The Sabar drums are traditionally peg tuned…but some players today are using the more modern method of rope tuning. There are 5 drums in the Sabar family and they all have different sounds and roles to play in the music. The M’balax drum is the main rhythm drum and is fairly high in pitch and medium size. The N’der drum is the tallest and highest in pitch and is the lead drum and plays a lot of ‘calls’ or signals to cue the group what to do. The Toongani was originally a mandinka drum called the kutiro but was in recent years added to the Sabar ensemble. This drum is the smallest drum and has a unique bass sound.  The Joll is the lowest in pitch of the bass drums. It play various patterns and is also a solo drum. The highest pitch of the bass drums is the Tahnbat. This drum plays interweaving patterns sort of opposite the Joll. All drums are played with hand and  stick.

In Gambia and Senegal the most common place to see Sabar drumming is at a ceremony such as naming ceremony, wedding, birthday, or return from Mecca. These ceremonies typically happen in the streets. It is very popular even outside the Wolof tribe. Most ceremonies of all tribes in Gambia and Senegal will have Sabar drumming at the party. Typically Sabar drumming and dance will start after all the formal ceremonies are finished. During a naming ceremony the child is given a name one week after he or she is born. In the morning the baby will be prayed for… as well as all the family prayed for… and during this time the baby’s head is shaved. Depending on what tribe the ceremony can have different events that follow. Typical food at this ceremony is benechin…or jaybuchin.

Reference Sources:  Wikipedia = Roderick Knight = Charry  Eric = Erik Silverman = Mosheh Milon = Stephan Monssen = Souleyman Diop =  Gert Kilian = Stream Africa = Mike Bennett = Rob Holland = Kim Atkinson = Rob Simms

Lucumí language
Language
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Edit
Lucumí is a lexicon of words and short phrases derived from the Yoruba language in Cuba; it is used as the liturgical language of Santería in Cuba and other communities that practice Santería/Cuban Orisa/Lucumí religion/Regla de Ocha.[3][4]

Lucumí
Native to
Cuba
Dominican Republic
Puerto Rico
Native speakers
None[1]
(liturgical language)
Language family
Niger–Congo
Atlantic–Congo
Volta–Niger
Benue–Congo
Yoruboid
Edekiri
Yoruba
Lucumí
Language codes
ISO 639-3
luq
Glottolog
lucu1238[2]
The Yoruba language is no longer a vernacular among Yoruba descendants in the Americas from the time of the Atlantic slave trade. Devotees of the Orisa religion as it developed in the Spanish Caribbean use a liturgical language that developed from its remains. Lucumí has also been influenced by Spanish phonetics and pronunciation. Scholars have found some minimal influence from Bantu languages and Fongbe, some of which were spoken by other enslaved Africans who lived in close proximity to Yoruba speakers in the Americas.

Lucumí
Language
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Edit
Lucumí or Lukumí may refer to:

Lucumí language, a lexicon of words and phrases used as the liturgical language of Santería in Cuba
Lucumí people, an Afro-Cuban ethnic group of Yoruba ancestry
Lucumí religion, another name for the Santería faith
Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Hialeah, Florida, United States

Carlota Lucumí (d. 1844), Afro-Cuban slave and rebel leader
Édison Hipólito Chará Lucumí (1980 – 2011), Colombian footballer
Janer Guaza Lucumí (b. 1991), Colombian footballer
Jhon Lucumí (b. 1998), Colombian footballer
Luis Sinisterra Lucumí (b. 1999), Colombian footballer
Remigio Lucumí (1811/1816 – 1905), Afro-Cuban babalawo (Yoruba priest)
Sebastián Rincón Lucumí (b. 1994), Colombian footballer
This disambiguation page lists articles associated with the title Lucumí.
If an internal link led you here, you may wish to change the link to point directly to the intended article.

Santería, also known as Regla de Ocha, La Regla de Ifá,[1][2] or Lucumí, is an Afro-American religion of Yoruba origin that developed in Cuba among West African descendants. Santería is a Spanish word that means the "worship of saints". Santería is influenced by and syncretized with Roman Catholicism. Its sacred language is the Lucumí language, a remnant of Yoruba  language composed of a lexicon of words and short phrases that is used in rituals but no longer spoken as a vernacular and mostly not understood by practitioners.

Santería
A Santería ceremony known as Cajón de Muertos. Havana, Cuba, 2011.
Type
Syncretic
Classification
Afro-Cuban
Theology
Revised Yoruba religion
Associations
Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye
Other Casa de Santos
Origin
Slave era
Cuba
Members
22,000 (United States
History Edit

Santería is a system of beliefs that merges aspects of Yoruba religion brought to the New World by enslaved Yoruba people along with Christianity and the religions of the indigenous peoples of the Americas in addition to Cuban Spiritism which developed from Allen Kardec Spiritism.[2] The Yoruba people carried with them various religious customs, including a trance and divination system for communicating with their ancestors and deities, animal sacrifice, and sacred drumming and dance.[3][4] The need to preserve their traditions and belief systems in a hostile cultural environment prompted enslaved Africans of various ethnic groups in Cuba, starting from as early as 1515, to merge their customs with aspects of Roman Catholicism.[4]

This religious tradition evolved into what is now recognized as Santería.

The colonial period from the standpoint of enslaved African people can be defined as a time of perseverance. Their world quickly changed. Tribal kings and their families, politicians, business and community leaders all were enslaved and taken to a foreign region of the world. Religious leaders, their relatives and their followers were no longer free people to worship as they saw fit. Colonial laws criminalized their religion. They were forced to become baptized and worship a god their ancestors had not known who was surrounded by a pantheon of saints. The early concerns during this period seem to have necessitated a need for individual survival under harsh plantation conditions. A sense of hope was sustaining the internal essence of what today is called Santería, a misnomer (and former pejorative) for the Cuban expression of the Orisa faith. In the heart of their homeland, the Yoruba people had (and still have) a complex political and social order. They were a sedentary hoe farming cultural group with specialized labor. Their religion, based on the worship of nature, was renamed and documented by their slave owners. Santería, a pejorative term that characterizes deviant Catholic forms of worshiping saints, has become a common name for the religion. The term santero(a) is used to describe a priest or priestess replacing the traditional term Olorisha as an extension of the deities. The orishas became known as the saints in image of the Catholic pantheon.

— Ernesto Pichardo, CLBA, Santería in Contemporary Cuba: The individual life and condition of the priesthood

In order to preserve and mask their traditional beliefs, the Lucumí people syncretized their Orichás with Catholic saints.[4] As a consequence, the terms "saint" and "orichá" are commonly used interchangeably among practitioners. Spanish colonial planters who saw the enslaved African people celebrating on saints' days did not know that they were actually performing rituals related to Orichás, and assumed that they were showing more interest in Catholic saints than in the Christian God—hence the origin of the term Santería.[4]

The historical veiling of the relationship between Catholic saints and Orichás is compounded by the fact that the vast majority of santeros in Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic, are also Roman Catholics, have been baptized, and often require initiates to be baptized in Roman Catholicism as well.

The spread of Santería beyond the Spanish-speaking parts of the Caribbean, including to the United States, was catalyzed by the Cuban Revolution of 1959.[4] In 1974, the Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye became the first Santería church in the United States to become officially incorporated.[5]


Rituals and ceremonies Edit

Santería does not use a central creed for its religious practices; though it is understood in terms of its rituals and ceremonies.[6]:102 These rituals and ceremonies take place in what is known as a house-temple or casa de santos (house of saints), also known as an ilé. Most ilés are in the homes of the initiated priests and priestesses. Ilé shrines are built, by the priests and priestess, to the different orichás, which creates a space for worship, called an igbodu (altar).[6]:102 In an igbodu  there is a display of three distinct thrones (draped with royal blue, white, and red satin) that represent the seats of the queens, kings, and the deified warriors.[7]:168

Each ilé is composed of those who occasionally seek guidance from the orishas, as well as those who are in the process of becoming priests.[8]:6

The many cabildos and casas that bridged the 19th and 20th centuries are fondly remembered by contemporary priests as the origins and strongholds of Cuban Lucumí culture and religion.[8]:57

To become a Santero or Santera (Priest or Priestess of Santería), the initiator must go through an intensive week-long initiation process[7]:165 in which the teaching of the ritual skills and moral behavior occurs informally and nonverbally. To begin with, the initiator goes through what is called a cleansing ritual. The initiator's Padrino  (godfather) cleanses the head with special herbs and water. The Padrino rubs the herbs and water in a specific pattern of movements into the scalp of the head. However, if a person is entering Santería for the need of healing, they will undergo the rogación de la cabeza (blessing of the head), in which coconut water and cotton are applied on the head to feed it.[9]:26–28 Once cleansed, there are four major initiation rituals that the initiator will have to undergo: obtaining the elekes (beaded necklace), receiving Los Guerreros (the Warriors), making Ocha (Saint), and Asiento (ascending the throne).[6]:10


Obtaining the ilekes Edit
The first ritual is known as the acquisition of the beaded necklaces (known as ilekes); according to De La Torre, "the colors and patterns of the beads on the ilekes will be those of the orichá that serves as the iyawo's (bride) ruling head and guardian angel and so the first thing that must be done is to determine who the orichá is. The ilekes  necklace is bathed in a mixture of herbs, sacrificial blood, and other potent substances and given to the initiated.[6]:107

The initiate most often receives the necklace of the five most powerful and popular oricha, as the multicolored beads of the ilekes are each patterned for the primary Orishás  (Eleguá, Obatalá, Yemayá, Changó, and Ochún), and they serve as a sacred point of contact with these Orishás. When the necklace is received, the initiated must bow over a bathtub and have his/her head washed by the olo orichá. The elekes[9]:28 serves as the sacred banners for the Orishás and act as a sign of the Orichá's presence and protection; however, it must never be worn during a woman's menstruation period, nor during sex, nor when bathing.[6]:107

Medio Asiento Edit
The second important ritual is known as medio asiento, the creation of an image of the orichá Eleguá. The individual will go through a consultation with a Santero, where all the recipients' life, past, present, and future, will be reviewed. During the consultation, the Santero determines which path of Eleguá the recipient will receive. Then, based on his findings, he chooses materials that will be used to construct the image of the Eleguá, a sculpture that is used to keep evil spirits away from the initiator's home. This ritual is only prepared by men as the orichás take some of the Santero's "manly" spirit in the process.[10]:xi

Los Guerreros Edit
The third ritual, known as "receiving the warriors", is a ritual where the initiated receives objects from their padrino that represents the warriors; Iron tools to represent Ogún; an iron bow and arrow to represent Ochosi; and an iron or silver chalice surmounted by a rooster to represent Osún.[6]:112 This ritual begins a formal and lifelong relationship that the initiate will have with these Orichás, as the orichás devote their energies to protecting and providing for the initiate on their path.

Asiento Edit
The last ritual of the initiation process is known as Asiento (ascending the throne), and is the most important and the most secretive ritual in Santería, as it is the ceremony where the iyawo (bride of the oricha) becomes "born again" into the faith. This ritual is a culmination of the previous rituals, and cannot be made unless the others have been completed. Asiento is a process of purification and divination whereby the initiated becomes like a newborn baby and begins a new life of deeper growth within the faith.[6]:112

Post-initiation Edit
Once the initiation is completed, depending on the individuals "house", there is a year-long waiting period, known as iyaboraje, in which the newly appointed Priest and Priestess can not perform cleansings and other remedies.[11] It is a time where the Iyawo or Bride of the Orichá must follow a strict regimen of wearing all white and must avoid physical contact with those who have not been initiated. Once the ebo del año has been completed there will be an end of year ceremony, which will enable the Priest or Priestess to consult clients, perform cleansings, provide remedies and perform initiations. And according to Gonzalez: "they are also regarded as royalty in the religion, as they are considered representatives of the Orichás and are vested with the power to work with the forces of those Orichás in full."[10]:xi

With Santería rituals there are musical ceremonies and prayers that are referred to as bembé, toque de santo, or tambor. It is a celebration dedicated to an Orichá, where the batá drums (set of three drums known as the iya (the largest drum), itoltele, and okonkolo) are played in the Orichá's honor.[12]:11 Through these sacred drums, messages of worshippers reach the orichás and the orichás  respond to their devotees. These drums are used only by men and must always be treated with respect; for example, dancers must never turn their backs towards the drums while dancing, as it is considered disrespectful.[6]:118

Clergy Edit
Priests are commonly known as Santeros or Olorichas. Once those priests have initiated other priests, they become known as babalorichás, "fathers of orichá" (for men), and as iyalorichás, "mothers of orichá" (for women). Priests can commonly be referred to as Santeros (male) and Santeras (female), and if they function as diviners (using cowrie-shell divination known as Dilogun) of the Orichás  they can be considered Italeros, or if they go through training to become leaders of initiations, Obas or Oriates.

Lucumí traditional healing practices Edit

Lucumí traditional healing practices are rooted in the spiritual influences of America, Cuba, and West Africa. Having a strong spiritual component, these traditional healing practices also use the pathways of the herbalist, psychologist, ethicist, and that of a respected spiritual medium interceding between God and human beings. Du Toit refers to Cuban traditional healing practices as ethnomedicine, which taps on the biodynamic chemical properties of certain plants, from which some commercial drugs were derived, such as the cardiac medications, digitalis, quinine, and curare – chemicals causing neuromuscular paralysis.[13]:19 Du Toit categorizes Cuban ethnomedicine as having health specialists, which are el yerbero (the herbalist), el curandero (the curer), el santero (the religious healer), and el conocedor (the botanist). Du Toit continues, "Cuba is one of the regions in which a great deal of ethnographic and ethnobotanical research has been conducted."[13]:21

Santería traditional healing is just one of the many traditional healing practices used in Caribbean and Latin American cultures. Traditional healing practices are practiced side by side with mainstream medical practices through the Cuban healthcare  system. Traditional healers recognize but do not compete with Western medicine.

Herbal Edit
Du Toit cites the studies of Lydia Cabrera on the religious and healing role of indigenous medicinal plants, and Jose Gallo on the 900-page compilation of folk medicine, and also mentions that with the 31 herbs prescribed as bronchodilators, only Datura candida was effective, due to its contents of scopolamine  and atropine in the leaves. Lemongrass or caña de limón is used for low blood pressure and anti-inflammatory effects. Thyme tea and castor oil are used to speed the delivery of babies and the broomweed (Corchorus  siliquosus) induces the quick expulsion of the placenta.[13]:21 Herbs are also used to create a trance possession using the hallucinogenic properties of Datura metel and Datura stramonium (both have scopolamine and atropine, causing amnesia), the psychoactive  ingredients from the cane toad (Bufo marinus).[13]:23

Spiritual Edit
Aché Edit
Aside from being herbalist, Santería traditional healing practice has a spiritual aspect. Santería has a holistic approach, acknowledging the connection with heart, mind, and body.[14]:50 In Santería, the world flows with the primal life energy called aché or growth, the force toward completeness and divinity. Aché is the current that Santería initiates channel so that it empowers them to fulfill their path in life, because aché is connected to all that has life or exhibits power; aché comprises blood, grace, and power.[6]:12 When a person is sick, the healer thinks, interprets and reacts, considering the illness not just a physical dysfunction but also an interface with suffering and bad luck in life, believed to be brought on by the activity of bad spirits.

Espiritismo Edit
Prevalent in Caribbean cultures, espiritismo is a part of the Latin American traditional healing practice. Du Tout reveals that Santería has a "strong element of spiritism."[13]:26 in fact, Santería has a pronounced symbiotic relationship with Spiritism among its practitioners. McNeill also concurs that some Santeros are said to have the power to communicate with spirits asking for guidance to improve the situation of a person consulting.[15]:69 However, in general, the Santeros of the Regla de Ocha primarily turn to religion as their practice to address personal challenges and identify means to improve a situation.[15]:77 Many people may go and see espirititas who don't see a Santero. Also, espiritistas may work hand in hand with Santeros.

While psychotherapy tends to use scientific  principles, spiritism uses homeopathic  principles that aim to reduce the anxiety, or permit the patient to acknowledge pent-up emotions, unexpressed guilt, or repressed behavior through catharsis meant to release emotions the patient may not even be aware of.[13]:25 It is said that "healing can occur when the spirit medium assists the sufferer to come into harmony with the spirit world so as to change his or her physical condition, emotions, way of life, or destiny."[13]:25 This unique system of knowledge is appreciated as ethnopharmacology or ethnomedicine.[13]:25 The reputation of espiritistas is tinged with negativity, being accused of witchcraft. Consequently, espiritistas or traditional healers of Santería and other Latin American cultures are condemned by the Catholic Church.

Orichás Edit
Practitioners of the Regla de Ocha invoke the guidance of Orichás with a goal of "harmonizing" with nature. There are three foremost orichás that are predominantly concerned with folk-healing, however, other orichás may be invoked to help a person with a specific problem. These main orichás are: Osaín, the orichá of the herbs; Babalú-Ayé, the orichá of contagious and epidemic diseases; and Inle, the patron of physicians. Osaín is the patron of curanderos or traditional herbal healers, also called Osainistas.[6]:78 According to de la Torre, Osaín is believed to be embodied in the omiero, which is a combination of "blood from sacrifices offered during the ceremony and juices extracted from herbs that are sacred to the Orichás with water (from rain, rivers, or seas) honey, aguardiente, powdered eggshell, corojo, and cocoa butter."[6]:78 Because the forest is seen as the source of everything necessary to maintain health and reduce malevolence, Santería practitioners believe that no spell will work without the sanction of Osaín, the master herbalist commanding the healing secrets of plant life.[6]:50 Osaín is syncretized with Saint Joseph, Saint Benito, or Saint Jerome. Babalú-Ayé has come to be seen as the guardian of and revered by those with HIV/AIDS and victims of other diseases. He is syncretized with Saint Lazarus.[6]:78 Inle is the patron of physicians, known as a healer who favors scientific methods. Inle is ranked as one of the orichás that is approached for very specific health issues. Thus, Inle is also known as the protector of gays and lesbians.[6]:82

Divination Edit
People go to a consulta for many reasons, mainly for health-related issues. Divination is a means that traditional healers utilize to inquire further on the details of a problem. Divination may articulate the origin/cause of the problem; in addition, it may include prescriptions for solutions/suggestions to certain difficulties.[8]:96 Divination establishes an interpretative frame for the situation a person finds himself in.[8]:97 Hence, the Santeros offer cowrie-shell divination or other appropriate traditional practices. Rituals, or the reading of patakís may be done to clarify a problem, of which sometimes the person consulting may not even be aware. Passed orally from many generations, patakí are parables used by diviners to guide or give insights or moral lessons to a person who came for consultation.[11] The patakí recited by the Santero corresponds to the number that the cowrie shell divination bring

Alternatives Edit
Aside from the use of herbs and divination, Santería traditional healing rituals include animal sacrifice, offerings, altar building, music, dance, and possession trance.[16]:108 When the patient is a child, the Santero uses the curative system known as santiguo, which means "to heal by blessing". Perceiving health problems, most Santeros recommend that the client seeks a medical doctor. Parallel to the medical treatment, the patient might be prescribed some herbal teas, cleansing baths, or a special diet from the traditional healing practice. Sometimes, a Santero might advise a client to receive omiero, whose efficacy is widely disputed by many in the medical community. An omiero is claimed by believers to be a sacred mixture that is made for specific Santería ceremonies and to embody the orichá ruler of herbs, Osaín.[6]:108 Most clients who see Santeros would never be told to drink it.[11]
Current distribution Edit

Santería is a religion found in Latin America. It is mainly practiced in but not limited to Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Venezuela, Panama, Colombia, as well as in the United States.

In 2001, there were an estimated 22,000 practitioners in the US alone,[17] but the number may be higher as some practitioners may be reluctant to disclose their religion on a government census or to an academic researcher. Of those living in the United States, some are fully committed priests and priestesses, others are godchildren or members of a particular house-tradition, and many are non-committal clients seeking help with their everyday problems.

A similar religion of Yoruba origin called Candomblé Queto is practiced in Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay. This is referred to as "parallel religiosity".[18]

"parallel religiosity".[18]

United States court rulings Edit

In 1993, the issue of animal sacrifice in Santería was taken to the Supreme Court of the United States in the case of Church of the Lukumi Babalu Aye v. City of Hialeah. The court ruled that animal cruelty laws targeted specifically at Santería were unconstitutional.[19]

In 2009, legal and religious issues that related to animal sacrifice, animal rights, and freedom of religion were taken to the United States Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit in the case of Jose Merced, President Templo Yoruba Omo Orisha Texas, Inc., v. City of Euless. The court ruled that the Merced case of the freedom of exercise of religion was meritorious and prevailing and that Merced was entitled under the Texas Religious Freedom and Restoration Act (TRFRA) to an injunction preventing the city of Euless, Texas, from enforcing its ordinances restricting his religious practices relating to the use of animals,[20] (see Tex. Civ. Prac. & Rem. Code § 110.005(a)(2)) without the court having to reach his claims under the First and Fourteenth Amendments. After the court case was settled, a news article was published in the Dallas Observer documenting the volume and brutality of the animal sacrifices.[21]

References Edit

^ "Santería". Religions of the World. Retrieved January 4, 2009.
^ a b "Lucumí Religion". New Orleans Mistic. Archived from the original on May 28, 2008. Retrieved January 4, 2009.
^ Lois Ritter, Nancy Hoffman (April 18, 2011). Multicultural Health. Jones & Bartlett Learning. p. 268.
^ a b c d e Abiola Irele, Biodun Jeyifo, ed. (April 27, 2010). The Oxford Encyclopedia of African Thought, Volume 1. Oxford University Press. p. 305.
^ Richard Fausset (August 10, 2008). "Santeria priest won't let Religious Freedom be sacrificed". Los Angeles Times. Retrieved August 10, 2008.
^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o Miguel A. De La Torre (2004). Santería: The Beliefs and Rituals of a Growing Religion in America. Wm. B. Eerdmans. ISBN 978-0802-84973-1.
^ a b David H. Brown (2003). Santería Enthroned: Art, Ritual, and Innovation in an Afro-Cuban Religion. University of Chicago. ISBN 978-0226-07610-2.
^ a b c d Michael Atwood Mason (2002). Living Santería: Rituals and Experiences in an Afro-Cuban Religion. Smithsonian. ISBN 978-1588-34052-8.
^ a b Michael Atwood Mason (Winter 1994). ""I Bow My Head to the Ground": The Creation of Bodily Experience in a Cuban American Santería Initiation". Journal of American Folklore. 107 (423): 23–39. JSTOR 541071.
^ a b Miguel Gonzalez-Wippler (2007). Rituals and Spells of Santería. Original Publications. ISBN 978-0942-27207-9.
^ a b c Dr Cynthia Duncan (2010). "About Santería". University of Washington, Tacoma.
^ Diane Elizabeth Caudillo (2007), Prayers to the Orishas: A look at Santería (PDF), archived from the original (PDF) on 2012-04-14
^ a b c d e f g h Brian du Toit (2001). "Ethnomedical (Folk) Healing in the Caribbean". In Margarite Fernandez Olmos and Lizabeth Paravisini-Gerbert (eds.). Healing Cultures: Art and Religion as Curative Practices in the Caribbean and its Diaspora. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. ISBN 978-0-312-21898-0.
^ Margarite Fernandez Olmos and Lizabeth Paravisini-Gerbert (2003). "The Orisha Tradition in Cuba". Creole Religions of the Caribbean: An Introduction from Vodou and Santeria, to Obeah and Espiritismo. New York University Press. ISBN 978-0-8147-2719-5.

^ a b Brian McNeill, Eileen Esquivel et al. (2008). "Santeria and the Healing Process in Cuba and the United States". In Brian McNeill and Joseph Cervantes (eds.). Latina/o Healing Practices: Mestizos and Indigenous Perspectives. New York: Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group. ISBN 978-0-415-95420-4.
^ Johan Wedel (2004). Santeria Healing: A Journey into the Afro-Cuban World of Divinities, Spirits, and Sorcery. University Press of Florida. ISBN 978-0-8130-2694-7.
^ "American Religious Identification Survey, 2001" (PDF). City University of New York.
^ Andrés I. Pérez y Mena (March 1998). "Cuban Santería, Haitian Vodun, Puerto Rican Spiritualism: A Multicultural Inquiry into Syncretism". Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion. 37 (1): 15–27. JSTOR 1388026.
^ "Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye v. City of Hialeah, 508 U.S. 520". FindLaw.com. June 11, 1993. Retrieved October 25,  2012.
^ "Merced v. Kasson, United States Court of Appeals, Fifth Circuit". FindLaw.com. July 31, 2009. Retrieved October 25,  2012.
^ Kimberly Thorpe (October 22, 2009). "A court case forced a Santería priest to reveal some of his religion's secrets. Its ritual of animal sacrifice he revealed on his own". Dallas Observer.

Further reading Edit

J. Omosade Awolalu (1979). Yoruba Beliefs and Sacrificial Rites. Prentice Hall. ISBN 978-0582642034.
Miguel R. Bances. "Santería: El Nuevo Manual del Oba u Oriaté" (in Spanish).
William Bascom (1980). Sixteen Cowries: Yoruba Divination from Africa to the New World. John Wiley & Sons. ISBN 978-0253-35280-4.
Lydia Cabrera (1968). El Monte, Igbo, Finda, Ewe Orisha, Vititi Nfinda. Rema Press. ISBN 978-0-89729-009-8. OCLC 644593798.
Baba Raul Canizares (1999). Cuban Santeria. Destiny Books. ISBN 978-0892-81762-7.
Miguel A. De La Torre (2004). Santería: The Beliefs and Rituals of a Growing Religion in America. Wm. B. Eerdmans. ISBN 978-0802-84973-1.
Dr Cynthia Duncan (2010). "About Santería". University of Washington, Tacoma.
Gary Edwards (1985). Black Gods: Orisa Studies in the New World. Yoruba Theological Archministry. ISBN 978-1881-24402-8.
Ifayemi Elebuibon (1994). Apetebii: The Wife of Orunmila. Athelia Henrietta Press. ISBN 978-0963-87871-7.
James T. Houk (1995). Spirits, Blood, and Drums: The Orisha Religion of Trinidad. Temple University Press. ISBN 978-1566-39349-2.
John Mason (1996). Olóòkun: Owner of Rivers and Seas. Yoruba Theological Archminstry. ISBN 978-1881-24405-9.
John Mason (1992). Orin Orisa: Songs for selected Heads. Yoruba Theological Archminstry. ISBN 978-1881-24400-4.
Mozella G Mitchell (2006). Crucial Issues in Caribbean Religions. Peter Lang. ISBN 978-0820-48191-3.
David M O'Brien (2004). Animal Sacrifice and Religious Freedom: Church of the Lukumi Babalu Aye v. City of Hialeah. University Press of Kansas. ISBN 978-0700-61302-1.
Baba Esù Onàrè. "Tratado Encilopedico de Ifa".
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (1982). Socialization by Stages of Development into a Centro Espiritista in the South Bronx of New York City. Teachers College, Columbia University. OCLC 10981378.
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (1991). Speaking with the Dead: Development of Afro-Latin Religion Among Puerto Ricans in the United States. AMS Press. ISBN 978-0404-19485-7.
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (1996). "Religious Syncretism". In Richard and Rafael Chabran (eds.). The Latino Encyclopedia. Salem Press. ISBN 978-0761-40125-4.
Andrés I. Pérez y Mena (March 1998). "Cuban Santería, Haitian Vodun, Puerto Rican Spiritualism: A Multicultural Inquiry into Syncretism". Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion. 37 (1): 15–27. JSTOR 1388026.
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (1999). "Animal Sacrifice". In Wade Clark Roof (ed.). Contemporary American Religion. Macmillan Publishers. ISBN 978-0028-64928-3.
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (1999). "Santería". In Wade Clark Roof (ed.). Contemporary American Religion. Macmillan Publishers. ISBN 978-0028-64928-3.
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (2000). "John Paul II Visits Cuba". Great Events of the Twentieth Century. Salem Press.
Andrés I Pérez y Mena (February 2000). "Understanding Religiosity in Cuba". Journal of Hispanic/Latino Theology. 7 (3): 6–34.
Anthony M Stevens Arroyo and Andrés I Pérez y Mena, eds. (1995). Enigmatic Powers: Syncretism with African and Indigenous Peoples' Religions among Latinos. Bildner Center for Western Hemisphere Studies. ISBN 0-929972-11-2.
Robert Farris Thompson (1983). Flash of the Spirit: African and Afro-American Art and Philosophy. Random House. ISBN 978-0394-50515-2.
González-Wippler, Migene (1990). Santería: African Magic in Latin America (2nd ed.). Original Productions. p. 179. ISBN 0942272048.

External links Edit

Wikimedia Commons has media related to Lukumí and Santería.
Library resources in your library and in other libraries about Santería
Furius Santería DB, A database of the rhythms and chants found in recordings
Joseph M Murphy. "Santería". Encyclopædia Britannica.

ABOUT THE TERM ‘LUKUMÍ’
DECEMBER 13, 2018
 Many people initiated into the Cuban system of Òrìṣà worship call themselves, their religion, or vocabulary ‘Lukumí’. This is the contemporary expression for what is also known under the Spanish term Santería (the way of the saints), often inadequately described as a ‘Caribbean system of beliefs merging Catholic and West-African practices’. In Cuba, Òrìṣà worship is known as ‘la regla de ocha’, literally ‘the rule of the Òòṣà’ (Yor. Òòṣà, short for Òrìṣà). Òrìṣà are known as ‘santos’ (saints), olórìṣà (the ones who own Òrìṣà) are called ‘santeros’ (saint-worshippers). All the Spanish terms are based on a Catholic terminology, what is one reason why Lukumí became a popular word to identify the Cuban tradition of Òrìṣà worship, outside of Cuba.

I use the widespread Lukumí spelling with a ‘k’. It is a Yorùbá-nized orthography (there is no ‘c’ in Yorùbá) and it works better in a multi-lingual context. The Lucumí version with a ‘c’ is used in Spanish literature, especially in older books.


It is common knowledge that the term ‘Lukumí’ in Cuba was used as a category for a so-called ‘nación’ (nation). It was a colonial idea that Africans lived in nation states and in Cuba were organized in slave societies called ‘cabildos de nación’. The term ‘Lukumí’ was given to Yorùbá-speaking slaves – or ‘emancipados’ from intercepted slave ships after the abolition – by the authorities. At their legal point of arrival, Africans were registered and checked for diseases, later baptized. It was characteristic at that time to modify a Christian name with a term that indicates the African provenance. Historic colonial documents provide statistics about these ‘nations’ – compare our article ‘Dasalu, the Christian Yorùbá in Cuba’ about the life of one of these slaves, who received the name ‘Nicolas Lucumí’ during his registration. It is the rare story of a man who returned to his homeland, after having been shipped to Cuba. Nicolas Lucumí was baptized in Abẹ́òkúta before being sold into slavery. In Cuba at that time, the term Lukumí described his point of origin and his ethnic group-identity, but not a religious belief system. Lukumí by birth, not by initiation.

‘Lukumí’ – rarely ‘Anagó’ – is also used for the remains of the Yorùbá language in Cuba, sometimes called a ‘sacred language’, because it is used liturgically in songs and prayers dedicated to the Òrìṣà. Over the generations, it changed from the tonal language into a fixed vocabulary. Phrases are memorized by people who speak Spanish as their everyday language. Compare our article: ‘The Incomplete Yorùbá Guide to Lukumí’ (note: Ànàgó is the Fọn term for who we now call Yorùbá speakers, today also used for a small Yorùbá subgroup in Ipókìyà, Ilaròó and coastal areas of Ògùn and Lagos states of Nigeria).

Various ‘Lukumí-nations’ have been documented in Cuba, today known as Yorùbá subgroups, kingdoms or dialects. Some ‘cabildos’ (slave-societies) in Havana were known under the names of ‘Oyó/Eyó, Iyebú, Ibada, Eguado, Egbá, Kétu, Iyesá/Yesa’, what is Hispaniziced orthography for Ọ̀yọ́, Ìjẹ̀bu, Ìbàdàn, Ẹ̀gbádò, Ẹ̀gbá, Kétu, Ìjẹ̀ṣà. Other ethnic groups from around the area of Yorùbáland were sometimes subsumed under ‘lucumí’, like ‘lucumí-arará’ (Gbè-speakers) or ‘lucumí-tacua’ (Nupe) or ‘lucumí-mina’ (Mina). Some of them might have spoken Yorùbá as lingua franca and so fell into this category. The classification into ethnic categories defined the market value and changed over the centuries, it never was (or ever could be) accurate. As an example, the first Arará (from ‘Ardra’ or ‘Ardres’, old European name for Allada, see the maps) shipped to Cuba were mostly Aja people. Later different Gbè-speaking ethnic groups (Ewe, Fon, Aja, Mina, etc.) were typically registered under the term Arará, while e.g. in Haiti the slaves from Ardra became known as Rada. (And in Cuban diaspora terminology: The Arará called the Yorùbá people Ànàgó).

Some readers might ask: ‘Why weren’t the Lukumí just called Yorùbá?’ The word ‘Yorùbá’ (on old maps written ‘Yarriba’) is an exonym (an ethnic label applied by outsiders) and was used by the Hausa people to refer to their Southern neighbors from the Ọ̀yọ́ kingdom. The ‘Yorùbá-nization’ started around 1850, with the return of the freed Yorùbá slaves from Sierra Leone and Brazil and Cuba, the establishment of the Anglican missions and the ‘Lagosian Renaissance’ period and its literate elite. The idea of the modern political Yorùbá identity developed. It became a term used in the literature, written by the Christianized freedmen who returned from Sierra-Leone (like Àjàyí Crowther) to refer to themselves as the large language cluster of Yorùbá-speaking people, uniting all the kingdoms and their local identities into a large ethnic single group. It is a complicated topic, we should not forget the role the Ọ̀yọ́ kingdom played in shaping a pan-Yorùbá identity, its influence on neighboring ethnic groups, the diaspora experience of the returnees, or languages like Iṣẹkiri… There’s a lot of political discussion about it in Nigeria, and by scholars who write about Òrìṣà religion in the diaspora. See Stephan Palmie’s book ‘The Cooking of history. How not to study Afro-Cuban Religion’. He compares writer Reverend Samuel Johnson (The History of the Yorubas), who projected the ‘Yorùbá-ness’ into the past to construct a nation, to babaláwo Remigio Adechina Herrera in Cuba, who at the same time expanded the Lukumí identity to a ritual relationship connected to Òrìṣà. While Adéṣínà (‘the crown opened the way’) might have never heard the term Yorùbá and in documents calls himself being from the ‘nation of the Lucumí’, he serves today as a common example for the ‘Yorùbá’ tradition in Cuba. In short: The term Yorùbá became a standard expression only towards the end of the times of slavery, when the African born ‘Yorùbá’ and their creole descendants were already known under their diasporic identity Lukumí in Cuba

Left a Lukumí batá drum set from Havana, right a Yorùbá bàtá set from Ìbàdàn (the omele is not colored, I had to renew the skin, the omele meta as a set of three would not be played in an Òrìṣà context). There are other types of bàtá drums in Yorùbáland and Cuba, too. Both sets are original bàtá and I do not think of one being the offspring of the other! Watch out for the upcoming story! © Orisha Image

Many expressions to identify ethnic groups (or locations) have their roots in a language foreign to this ethnic group (so-called exonyms). Think of ‘America’ and its word roots in the Italian name ‘Amerigo’, that has its roots in the German name ‘Emmerich’, from medieval Germanic ‘brave’ and ‘rich’. No native was asked for the place’ name. It is not the etymology of a word that counts for us, but its actual usage and meaning. We quickly forget about the roots. In this sense, the following history about the term Lukumí is insignificant for its meaning today. But: there is so much history that is hardly been told, so I think it is worth taking a closer look! Where’s the origin of the word ‘Lukumí’? What did it mean? Many people want to know. Here’s the summary of theories. There are several myths around it, all of them are connected. This information is from academic papers quoted below, I recommend reading them all to get the full picture. Let’s just focus on the etymology. This article is not about Lukumí identity or how it was formed in the African Diaspora, it is not about the complex process of self-identification or group-affiliation, neither a definition of ‘Yorùbá-ness’ – that would be another story (compare Lovejoy’s online article ‘Ethnic Designations of the Slave Trade’.)


A detail of a historic map of the West African coast that I bought on Ebay for 30 Euros. Here you have various categories for slaves: Arará/Rada from Ardra (Allada), Carabalí from Calbari (Calabar), Lukumí from Ulcumi, etc… even the Àgùdà, Brazilian and Cuban returnees in Yorùbá language, have their name from a port: here written Juda, Ajuda, (Whydah). © Orisha Image

Chapter 1: Lukumí – The African Kingdom

The ‘language Lukumí’ – written as ‘Licomin’ – appeared in a letter from a Portuguese missionary who was stationed at the island of São Tomé in 1640. Many slave ships at that time made a stop on this small island before going on their journey across the Atlantic. The Jesuit Frei Colombina de Nantes had access to the African men and women there and wrote: “…lingua eorum est facilis, vocatur lingua Licomin et est universalis in istis partibus, sicut latinum in partibus Europa.” According to the author, ‘Licomin’ was lingua franca and spoken by many people as a second language, like Latin in Europe. Read it here online in the scan of the book by António Brásio, who published it in his ‘Monumenta missionaria Africana. Africa occidental’ (1952).

Alonso de Sandoval, also a Jesuit missionary who evangelized African slaves in South America, published in Madrid in 1647 his book ‘De Instauranda Aethiopum Salute. Historia De Aethiopia, naturaleça, Policia Sagrada y Profana, Costumbres, ritos, y Cathecismo Evangelico, de todos les Aethiopes’ (here’s the link). Ethiopia was a general term for sub-Saharan Africa. It was a re-edition of his book from 1627, which had another title. In the book from 1647 the ‘Lucumies’ were mentioned as a kingdom close to Ardra (Allada), Vini (’Bìní’, most often spelled ‘Benin’ and denoting the Ẹ̀dọ́ Kingdom in present Nigeria) and Yabu (Ìjẹ̀bu). Sandoval described the Lucumies as very loyal and working as mercenaries, what is an interesting point, as we will see later. Ìjẹ̀bu, today known as Yorùbá subgroup, was just another kingdom, not connected at all to the Lukumí.
‘Lukumí’ then regularly starts to appear in different spellings in European descriptions of West Africa and can easily be spotted on dozens of nautical charts and maps of this hardly known territory. Many of these charts are digitalized and available for free online in libraries, I found around ten maps with Lukumí kingdoms very quickly. Below this article there’s a list of external links to some examples in high resolution. The kingdom’s location remained fixed somewhere in the hinterland of the lagoons of Lagos. I went to the National Austrian Library and browsed through the original translation of Olfert Dapper’s ‘Description of Africa’ from 1670 with a chapter about the ‘Ulkami Kingdom’ and a complete map of West Africa. The Kingdom of Ulkami was also located between the kingdom of ‘Arder’ (Allada) and ‘Benyn’ (Benin, the Ẹ̀dọ́ Kingdom in present day Nigeria). While long and detailed chapters exist about kingdoms along the coastline, the one about the Lukumí kingdom is very short – and disgusting, as you can read in the photo below. The German version of the book, which I compared to the English one on the photos, is even more disgusting. Either the German translator added more details about the stick put into the vagina of young girls, or the English translator left out details.


So, a part of West Africa, on old maps more or less situated in Yorùbáland, became known in Europe as the language cluster Licomin, the kingdom of the Lucumies or the kingdom of Ulkuma, Ulcuma, Ulkumi, Ulcumi, Oulcoumi, Ulkami, Alkomij, Lacomie or Laucommis (Robin Law found 17 variants). While this kingdom had long been associated by scholars like Fernando Ortiz with Old Ọ̀yọ́ or sometimes even with Ilé-Ifẹ̀ (what is very unlikely, as it had already lost its power then), new findings by Lovejoy and Ojo make it possible that the term points to the Olukumi villages near Benin City and the Portuguese history of trade with this kingdom. More about that in chapter three
A detail from the folded map, the Bight of Benin, attached to the book published by Olfert Dapper in 1670. © Orisha Image

The term Lukumí can be found very early in colonial papers across the Atlantic in the Spanish colonies. There’s a record of two ‘Lucume’ slaves on an estate in Hispaniola from 1547, ‘Lucumis’ have also been registered in Colombia and Peru at the beginning of the 17th century, and ‘Locumi’ are mentioned in Mexico. Yorùbá slaves only made a small percentage of the earlier slave trade, compared to other ethnic groups. With the collapse of the Ọ̀yọ́ kingdom around 1800 and the following decades of war, thousands of Yorùbá people were shipped especially to Cuba and Brazil in the 19th century, when other countries already had banned the trade. For a reason not known, the Spanish authorities continued to use the term Lukumí to identify Yorùbá speaking people, while the Portuguese in Brazil used the term Nagô.

There is an unusual story about a free African-born woman of color in 18th century Peru, Ana de la Calle, who called herself a Lukumí. Rachel Sarah O’Toole’s article ‘To Be Free and Lucumí’ gives an example of this identity in another context than the Cuban one. In Colombia ‘Lucumí’ is a common surname among Afro-Colombian people living in the area of the Pacific coast. A Colombian comedian  uses the name and its stereotype black Colombian image (?) as an artist name for a Lucumí show, well-known athletes’ names are Luis Lucumí or Jeison Lucumí Mina. Here’s even a link to a newspaper article about a man called José Lucumí Carabalí - seems like many ‘ethnic’ categories from the times of slavery survived as legal surnames in Colombia (this is just my own conclusion, I did not find a Colombian yet to discuss this in detail).


William Bascom’s ‘Shango in the New World’ from 1972. I was lucky to find it on the second hand book market.

Chapter 2: The (Re-)Yorùbánized term Lukumí

Explanation number two for the roots of the word Lukumí became popular when William Bascom published his booklet “Shango in the New World” at the African and Afro-American Research Institute, University of Texas at Austin, 1972. I managed to get an expensive copy on the second hand book market. On page 13 he mentions: “In Cuba the descendants of the Yoruba slaves are known as Lucumi, a name probably derived from a Yoruba greeting, oluku mi, meaning ‘my friend.’” No further explanation is given. Ten years before, in an article about the ‘Yoruba in Cuba’ in the ‘Nigeria Magazine’ from 1951, Bascom had still connected the Lukumí to Yoruba and Nupe (Takua) and ‘early European maps’ from West Africa.

Migene González-Wippler made in in her book ‘Santería. African magic in Latin America’ from 1973 a connection between Lukumí and ‘akumí’, a term for a ‘native of Aku, a region of Nigeria where many Yoruba come from’. Very likely, I think, she meant the ‘Aku’, a name that is/was used for the Yorùbá people and Krio language in Sierra Leone, where the British unloaded intercepted slave ships and a large Yorùbá diasporic community grew. The term ‘Aku’ makes a good comparison to the Lukumí greeting theory: its roots lie in the greeting formula ‘Ẹ kú (iṣẹ́/ kàlẹ̀/ ilé etc.)’. Today they are known as a Creole group in Sierra Leone, the Aku or Oku. Also, in British Guyana this name was used for people with Yorùbá background.

A map from 1743 by Homann Heirs: Guinea propria. I got a small (bad quality) reprint online. Lukumí is here written as Oulcoumi. Oudobo could be the town of Òṣogbo, Jabou is Ìjẹ̀bu, Ardra becomes Arará in Cuba, etc. A good high-res scan is online here at Wikipedia.

Whenever I asked my Yorùbá informants, no one understood the word ‘olùkù’ as ‘friend’, especially not ‘olùkù mi’ as a greeting phrase (‘ọ̀rẹ́’ would be the contemporary term for ‘friend’). Most of them tried to pronounce the Cuban expression ‘Lukumí’ more like ‘(O)lúkúnmi’, what is a common name meaning ‘the Lord fills me’. So I involved writer and collaborator Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún from www.yorubaname.com. He knew a song from Ilé-Ifẹ̀ in which these lines are present: A ìí bá'ra jà, olùkù ara là ń ṣe (We don't fight with each other, we are each other's friends). It is a word from Ifẹ̀ dialect, as Kọ́lá interprets it. He has heard people use ‘olùkù mi’ to mean ‘my friend’, but in a throwback or anachronistic way. It's not used in everyday life. Finally, I found out that Linguist Awoyale has it in his Global Yoruba Lexical Database as ‘olùkù, companion’ and quotes lyrics by Ogundáre Fọ́yánmu: “Ojú-oró níí ṣe olùkù omi; àlúgùèṣe níí ṣe olùkù ilẹ̀.” (Ojú-Oró is the one that acts as the companion of water; Àlúgùèṣe it the one that acts as the companion of mother earth; proverbial incantation). So this is the popular interpretation today: Lukumí as ‘olùkù mi’ (mid-low-low-mid tone).

Lydia Cabrera’s book ‘Anagó. Vocabulario Lucumi. El Yoruba que se habla en Cuba’ from 1970 lists ’oluku’ as a verb (often Yorùbá nouns or nouns and prepositions are listed as ‘verbs’ in Cuban Lukumí vocabulary), meaning ’acariciar’ (to caress, stroke, nurture). Sounds a bit like the ‘friend’ or ‘companion’ from above to me. In her book ‘oluku’ is not connected at all to the term ‘Lukumí’.

Many of my Yorùbá friends, who share the passion of teaching me the ‘secrets’ of their tonal language, enjoy treating all kind of (foreign) words following the Yorùbá rules of vowel elision and word combination. And they are laughing a lot with me, whenever I try to break down composite words by myself, according to my (small) vocabulary. Yes, Yorùbá is a funny language. I have a paper written by the linguist Bám̄gbóṣé about around 20 well researched interpretations of the word Olódùmarè alone. I was always very skeptical about such findings of similarities of words, especially in the Lukumí case: one word that was used since centuries by European slave traders is connected to a simple noun-pronoun combination in the language spoken by the enslaved. Fanatic Evangelicals can even break down Hebrew names from the bible into Yorùbá meanings.

Along the docks of the harbor in La Habana, stereo photo from 1901. Cuban Photograph Collection by the University of Miami Libraries. Image Public Domain.

The ‘olùkù’ as ‘friend’ discovery brought at least a very positive connotation and inspired writers. When I was young, I read an explanation on a Cuban style batá-drumming LP cover: new arriving slaves were welcomed at the harbor of Havana as ‘olùkù mi’. But as we know now from written sources, the term was used centuries before already by Portuguese merchants to describe a ‘kingdom’ in West Africa and to deal a specific category of slaves.

There is hardly any popular publication today that does not quote the ‘olùkù mi’ greeting theory. What is a rare Yorùbá word today, becomes a common greeting. I just went through some books from my library:

# ‘[…] derived from the common Yoruba greeting ‘oluku mí’ (my friend), and that slaves used this phrase to communicate to the new Yoruba-speaking captives arriving in Cuba to indicate that they were not alone in a foreign land.’, Michele Reid: The Yoruba in Cuba. Origins, Identities and Transformations, in: Toyin Falola, Matt D.Childs (ed.): The Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World, Indiana University Press 2004, p.115)

# ‘[…] a derivation of the Ifẹ-Yorùbá greeting olùkù mi, or ‘my friend’, which refers not only to the religion but to the practitioners of the religion as well.’, Toyin Falola, Akintunde Akinyemi (ed.): Encyclopedia of the Yorùbá, Indiana University Press, 2016, p.9

# ‘[…] a term from the Yoruba people of Africa that means friendship […] derived from the Yoruba greeting ‘oluki (sic) mi’, which literally means ‘my friend’.’, Miguel A. De La Torre: Hispanic American Religious Cultures, Volume 1:A-M, ABC-CLIO, 2009, p.17

# ‘Lucumi, ‘My friend’, a Yoruba greeting in Cuba.’, Joseph M.Murphy, Santería. African Spirits in America, Beacon Pres, 1988, p.179

An illustration from the book ‘17 years in the Yoruba country’ by Anna Hinderer, wife of a CMS missionary, published around 1860. Image Public Domain.

Re-translation of Lukumí vocabulary into Yorùbá is on the agenda of the re-Africanization movement. Victor Betancourt Omolófaoró Estrada published an interesting linguistic book: ‘La Lengua ritual Lúkúmí’, Inversiones Orunmila, Venezuela. The book is dedicated completely to a re-Translation of the Lukumí ritual language (songs, paraphernalia, prayers, Ifá-verses) into Yorùbá. For the term ‘Lukumí’ he quotes Lamberto Samá who spoke with Latuán Timotea Albear, one of the highly esteemed and respected santeras of the 19th century, believed to have been an Ọ̀yọ́ native. Here we have an interpretation transmitted from a Lukumí elder! She said, when they were captured in their village and sold into slavery they were heavily beaten and cried ‘gún mí, gún mí, lú kú mí, lú kú mí’, interpreted by him in Spanish as ‘me golpean, el golpe me mata’ (they hit me, they are beating me to death). At night they whispered a prayer ‘Ejó eléran (bis) omo lú kú mí ejo eléran kó síìkà’, translated as ‘Si la sentencia fue tratarnos como ganado (bis) somos descendiente del que el golpe me mata, si la sentencia fue tratarnos como ganado, pero que no halla perversidad.’ Betancourt also explains that the word Yorùbá comes from ‘Ọ̀yọ́ rú ọba’, meaning ‘people of Oyo betrayed the king’, with a long story behind it. His ‘Lúkúmí’ version is written with three high tones, what makes a difference to the other versions (though the verb ‘lùkú’ should be written with low-high tone, I think). I have heard another interpretation in Cuba with one nasal sound included and with the high tone of ‘kú’, ‘to kill’, as nasal low tone: ‘ó lukùn mi’, Yorùbá for ‘he/she/it hit my stomach (ikùn)‘. There are more examples of possible re-translations, the list is longer, see the next chapter. With Yorùbá tones and nasals one can get creative. And if it is an exonym, a name given to a group of people by another group, it could even have its roots in another (tonal) language…
Chapter 3: Olukumi: The Yorùbá Enclave

The third theory is the latest one in the academic discussion, though it has been published so many years ago, before (!) Bascom came up with the ‘my friend’ theory in his papers. Thanks to the private archive of Yorùbá linguist Victor Manfredi I had the chance to read the original publication: The Nigeria Magazine from 1958, page 239-251! Hard to get a copy today! Ulli Beier, commonly known as Susanne Wenger’s ex-husband, published extensively about Yorùbá culture and art throughout his lifetime. In this article from 1958 he reports from a visit to the Western Ìgbò country in Nigeria where he ‘suddenly’ comes upon three Yorùbá communities, the communities of Ukunzu, Ugbodu and Uburubu. Although they have adopted customs from the surrounding Ìgbò culture, they stick to their language Yorùbá. They call themselves and their language: Olukumi – which means ‘my friend’! Remember, this was published in 1958 by Ulli Beier. He immediately refers to the old maps of West Africa and speculates about possible links of the present Olukumi people to the kingdom of Ulcumi/Ulcami/Lucumi known to European travelers. Beier is furthermore excited that this word ‘survived in Cuba’ and quotes Bascom: ‘the origin of the word Lucumí is still open to speculation.’ Beier made the first connection from the Olukumi to the Lukumí. He continues his analysis of the Olukumi villages and interviews local chiefs about their history and their close relationship to the Oba of Benin. He collects different stories how the Yorùbá came to settle there. Maybe as slaves or prisoners of war, when Benin fought numerous wars with the Èkìtì, Ọ̀wọ̀ and Àkúrẹ́, or as military allies to the Oba of Benin, as the name of one of their towns means ‘war camp’ (like ’Èkó’, Lagos, also started as Ẹ̀dọ́ camp, as its name says in Ẹ̀dọ́ language). Do you remember the book above from 1627, where the Lukumí were described as ‘mercenaries’? It could have been the Olukumi, Yorùbá people living (unfree) in the Benin kingdom or working for the Bìní army. Different quarters in the three Olukumi towns have different origins, some with the Ọ̀wọ̀ Yorùbá, others with the Àkúrẹ́ Yorùbá. The Ọ̀wọ̀ branch told Beier that they came to live there when the Oba of Benin married a wife from their town and their ancestors accompanied her to live in the new residence. Ulli Beier describes the Olukumi worship rites, including Ifá divination known as Awo, and a lively mixture of Yorùbá, Ẹ̀dọ́ and Ìgbò customs.

What you needed from Europe to trade slaves at the West African coast. White European horsetails possibly became irukere for the chiefs. A text from Olfert Dapper, 1670. © Orisha Image

This leads to the article ‘Lucumí, Terranova, and the Origins of the Yoruba Nation‘ by Henry B.Lovejoy and Olatunji Ojo from 2015 and their re-examination of Beier’s report. The Benin-Portuguese slave trade started in the 15th century, long before Ọ̀yọ́ became the huge empire that finally collapsed. The Olukumi enclaves east of Yorùbáland were possibly already under the rule of Benin and involved in ‘chalk’ production (kaolinite is colloquially called chalk), an important trade good for rituals and medicines, still plentiful in this area.

Lovejoy and Ojo found a map published by Fernão Vaz Dourado in 1571 that mentions the ‘rio de iacomi’ (interpreted as ‘Lukumí river’). You can see the map here on Wikipedia, the ‘r. de iacomi’ is written vertically in red ink directly along the left flagpole in the Calabar region. This map was published fifty years before the term ‘Licomin’ appears in the letter of Jesuit Frei Colombina de Nantes from São Tomé and more or less at the same time when the term appeared the first time in the Caribbean documents. This shows, that the term was probably linked to Portuguese trade with the Ẹ̀dọ́ Kingdom of Benin. The authors speculate that the term was in use in the Benin kingdom before the Europeans arrived, and as it is still used by a Yorùbá group to refer to themselves, it can/could/should be connected to the Olukumi enclaves. Lovejoy and Ojo furthermore think it could have been a typical exonym and a word from Ẹ̀dọ́ language given to the eastern Yorùbá groups. They mention ‘oluku mi’ as ‘these young ones’ (meaning young animals) or ‘foreigner’ in Ẹ̀dọ́, but also quote ‘oluku mi’ as ‘concubine’ in Ọ̀wọ̀ Yorùbá dialect and the classical Yorùbá ‘my friend’ version (note: they do not give a linguistic analysis, Yorùbá and other languages are written without diacritics, sources are phone calls and interviews.)
The Ẹ̀dọ́ Kingdom of Benin had reached its greatest territorial extent around 1600, Lovejoy designed a map that can be seen in a small version at africandiasporamaps.com. However, slave trade with the Bight of Benin was minor compared to central West Africa at that time. By 1550 the Portuguese had even imposed an embargo on Benin and slave trade began to shift west, where the kingdom of Allada was on the rise. Et voilà: with this movement, the name coined for the Eastern Yorùbá trafficked by the Bìní and shipped via São Tomé became the name given also to the other Yorùbá groups shipped from the well-known western ports, when they arrived in the Spanish colonies. Centuries later, after the fall of Ọ̀yọ́ in the beginning 19th century, many slaves from Yorùbáland led to an exponential growth in the Lukumí population in the Spanish diaspora. The Portuguese adopted other trade names from small Western Yorùbá subgroups: the Ànàgó and the Kétu, to refer to all Yorùbá slaves in general, known as ‘Nagô’ or ‘Quetô’ today in Brazil. Ànàgó is the Fọn term for who we now call Yorùbá speakers, the Brazilian usage could reflect the dominance of Gùn-Gbè in Candomblé Jeje, as it is a relevant term in the Gùn-Gbè area.

This is a short summary of the academic papers quoted below. Detailed political descriptions and usages of the term in various contexts, languages and time periods you will find there! The Lukumí story is  interesting, not so much for the etymology, we still don’t know exactly where the term comes from. We do not know the source, just its usage. No linguist (I think) has looked at it, one who knows how to deal with tonal languages, or one who also knows Ẹ̀dọ́, Ìgbò, etc., but I became fascinated by the connected African and African diaspora history. While I was reading and trying to find more information, I learned a lot about politics of West African states and their trade with Europe. This is hardly taught anywhere! What makes me wonder is that academic writers prefer quoting articles from illustrated magazines and texts published decades ago, rather than investigating on-site or involving a linguist who could analyze a language on a level a native speaker can’t. Has no one ever been in the Olukumi villages recently? No one knows more about their dialect? No one knows even the correct tones of the contemporary word Olukumi? I am waiting for the story of the first Lukumí visitor to an Olukumi town on Social Media, or a young Nigerian language student dedicating his Ph.D. to this topic. Meanwhile, watch the short video below and see how the ‘olùkù mi’ greeting theory became known in Cuba.

Via my blog, I once talked to a man who grew up in one of the Olukumi villages, but later moved to Lagos in his childhood. He said ‘olùkù mi’ with the meaning ‘my friend’ was still a common greeting formula you could hear in the streets when he grew up there in the 1960’s. I wish someone could go there and investigate or provide us with more information about this small Yorùbá community! If any readers out there have a connection to Olukumi people, please get in contact!

Linguist Victor Manfredi mentions in the footnotes of ‘Philological Perspectives on the Southeastern Nigerian Diaspora’ that copies of 700 distinct wax cylinders of 2.5 minutes’ duration, including recordings of Ólùkwumí, are being digitized in the British Library and could help to check for similarities between the southern Nigerian variety and Cuban Lukumí, that would be expected to show more similarities to the language presently called Iṣẹkiri. The Iṣẹkiri (also spelled Itsekiri) are more numerous than the Ólùkwumí and their language belongs to the south eastern Yorùbá dialects. The Ólùkwumí, as Manfredi spells their name with diacritics written in Ìgbò language (Ìgbò has only two tones, unmarked vowels in this orthography have the same tone as the vowel before them), are the same group as the Olukumi (Olùkùmi?) mentioned by Ulli Beier and Lovejoy and Ojo - but the latter do not give tonemarks! Manfredi chose tonemarks in Igbo, because the isolate Ólùkwumí is the second or auxiliary language of these people and their first language is western Igbo. If the ‘my friend’ greeting theory is true, the name of the small group could be spelled Olùkùmi in Yorùbá tonal language, but I have not found it yet in any dictionary or reliable linguistic source. But maybe it is just the way how the Olùkùmi understand this word, and its original roots lie in another language, who knows. If you google for ‘Olukwumi’ you will find some Nigerian links, it is a common variant of the name in Nigeria. In theory, Iṣẹkiri would be a dialect close to the Olùkùmi isolate.

Not about Lukumí, but the so-called Abakuá, is the video below, the spiritual traditions of an ‘ethnic’ group known as Carabalí in Cuba, who could re-establish important elements from their African society during the times of slavery. Their culture survived until today in special cult groups. This new video shows how Cuban Abakuá members meet members of the Èkpé society from Calabar region in Nigeria and how their masks dance together, re-united, after having been separated for centuries! It is incredible to see.

So… that’s the short summary of the discussion about the term ‘Lukumí’. I think the roots of the words are not so important, but the people who were called or later called themselves proudly Lukumí. To remember their history and struggles, preserving their identity and culture, shaping it new, after being taken away from their homes and beloved ones and sold into slavery. As olorisha I like to think of them all as ‘olùkù wa’, our friends and companions. Maybe this article helps to avoid some confusion, as  some Nigerian bloggers think that the Olùkùmi Yorùbá dialect is spoken in Cuba today ‘in the Santería region’. There is so much speculation and confusion about this term!

A book I read about the Itsekiri, an Eastern Yorùbá language group in Nigeria. I thought I could find some information about the Olukumi.

As always, don’t forget, this is a blog, not a source that should be quoted, it is meant to inspire. I do not know what is right or wrong. This is a summary of what I read in academic articles and historic books, a base for lively discussions. I went to libraries to get some photos of historic books and included many links to articles and maps. Get the articles and find out more and work through their bibliographies! If you have a story to add to this article, let me know! Maybe one day we will have some new findings and interpretations.

Check our blog section for more stories about Yorùbá history and Òrìṣà in Yorùbáland and the Cuban and Brazilian diaspora! Ire òòò!


Resources

Henry B.Lovejoy, Olatunji Ojo: ‘Lucumí, ‘Terranova’, and the Origins of the Yoruba Nation*. In: Journal of African History, No 56, 2015, pp.353-372. Online.

Robin Law: Ethnicity and the Slave Trade: “Lucumi” and “Nago” as Ethnonyms in West Africa, History in Africa, Vol.24, 1997, pp.205-219. Online.

Robin Law: Trade and Politics behind the Slave Coast: The Lagoon Traffic and the Rise of Lagos, 1500-1800. The Journal of African History, Vol.24, No.3 (1983), pp.321-348.

Ulli Beier: Yoruba Enclave. In: Nigeria Magazine, No.58, 1958, pp.238-251.

Stefan Palmié: Das Exil der Götter. Geschichte und Vorstellungswelt einer afrokubanischen Religion. Peter Lang Verlag, Frankfurt am Main, Bern, New York, Paris, 1991.

Stephan Palmié: The Cooking of History. How Not to Study Afro-Cuban Religion. University of Chicago Press, 2013.

Victor Manfredi: Philological Perspectives on the Southeastern Nigerian Diaspora. In: Contours A Journal of the African diaspora 2 2, p. 239-287. Online.


Lorand Matory: The English Professors of Brazil: On the Diasporic Roots of the Yorùbá Nation. Comparative Studies in Society and History, Volume 41, Number 1, January 1999, Cambridge University Press.

Victor Betancourt Omolófaoró Estrada: La Lengua Ritual Lúkúmí. Inversiones Orunmila C.A., Caracas, Venezuela.

Rachel Sarah O’Toole: To Be Free and Lucumí. Ana de la Calle and Making Africa Diaspora Identities in Colonial Peru. In: Africans to Spanish America: Expanding the Diaspora, University of Illinois Press, 2012 (on Google Books).

Paul E. Lovejoy, David V. Trotman (ed.): Trans-Atlantic Dimensions of Ethnicity in the African Diaspora, Bloomsbury, 2004.

Gwendolyn Midlo Hall: African Ethnicities and the Meanings of ‘Mina’. Online.

John Ogilby, Olfert Dapper: Africa: Being An Accurate Description Of The Regions Of Egypt, Barbary, Lybia, and Billedulgerid: The Land of Negroes, Guinee, Ethiopia, and the Abyssines, With all the Adjacent Islands, either in the Mediterranean, Atlantick, Southern, or Oriental Sea, belonging therunto ; With the several Denominations of their Coasts, Harbors, Creeks, Rivers, Lakes, Cities, Towns, Castles, and Villages. Their Customs, Modes, and Manners, Languages, Religions, and Inexhaustible Treasure ; With their Governments and Policy, variety of Trade and Barter, And also of their Wonderful Plants, Beasts, Beards, ans Serpents ; Collected and Translated from most Authentick Authors, And Augmented with later Observations ; Illustrated with Notes, and Adorn'd with peculiar Maps, and proper Sculptures. Printed by Thomas Johnson, London, 1670. (I found the German version digitalized here.)

Lydia Cabrera: Anagó. Vocabulario Lucumi (El Yoruba que se habla en Cuba), Ediciones Universal, Miami, Florida, 2007.

Yiwola Awoyale: Global Yoruba Lexical Database v.1.0 (includes Lukumí terms), Online.

The Olukumi people. Online at Wikipedia (including Lovejoy’s map).

www.yorubaname.com - great database to find out the meaning of names

Thanks to Nathan Lugo for sending the following links to Nigerian articles about the Olukumi:

A Yoruba enclave in the heart of Aniocha in Delta State, Online

Olukumi: An Interface of Yoruba and Edo kingdoms, Online

Indigenous Yoruba and Igala of Delta North, Online

Maps of Africa with the term Lukumí (or a variant of it)

Guillaume de L’Isle: Carte de la Barbarie le la Nigritie et de la Guinée, 1707

Fernão Vaz Dourado: Costa da Guiné até à ilha de São Tomé, 1571

Map of the west coast of Africa, Nigritarum Regio, 1662

Gerard Valck: Nigritarum Regnum, 1651

J. Heirs Janssonius: Nigritarum Regnum, Amsterdam, 1680

Africa: with all its states, kingdoms, republics, regions, islands, improved and inlarged from D'Anville's […] 1787

A new map of that part of Africa called the coast of Guinea […]

Homann Heirs: Guinea propria, Map of West Africa, 17

I am a Yorùbá student. I think I have read all educational Yorùbá language books available – in English, Portuguese, Spanish and German (here’s the complete review list), but it took me a long time to demystify spelling variants and find out what’s the actual writing standard. Having studied visual arts and a bit of typography, I often come across irritating publications: words written in a serif font contain dotted letters from a sans-serif font. Ouch! Since I started to publish on this blog, I had to face these challenges by myself and learned how to handle (some of) them.

I am learning Yorùbá to talk to people, recite Òrìṣà prayers or sing songs, even to talk on a drum (in the future) – and not to write a novel or publish as a journalist. This is written from the the òyìnbó and olórìṣà perspective. Educated in Europe, I am used to written language. Usually I cannot memorize a short text word-by-word without writing it down and having a visual reminder. I was impressed by the boys and girls I have met in Nigeria who could recite five-minute-long Òrìṣà prayers from memory. Yorùbá, a tonal language, trains your ears, your voice and your brain! The art of reciting poems or oral literature is hardly taught in my culture, as we share knowledge mainly through texts. That’s one of the reasons why I published the free 90-minutes Yorùbá Melody Audio Course  together with Linguist Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún and the help of many friends. Learning a language without a book, just by listening, is a different experience. Sorry to all the bookworms who asked me for a script of the course! Who has not downloaded it yet, below is the English version in a Soundcloud player (for Portuguese and Spanish follow this link).
I do not explain Yorùbá grammar here – this is not an article about the language itself. You will find some links to dig deeper into this topic. This is a practical guide, about finding sources and tools to use the Yorùbá script and share it with others, with all the information you would need to interpret it correctly in speech later, with tonemarks, underdots – and macrons! Here’s a list of common Yorùbá writing problems and how I got out of this wàhálà! These questions I asked myself – and the answers I gave to myself, too, quoting the sources for a more exact information provided by professionals. The questions could be grouped into four categories: linguistic, artistic, technical and political ones. Quite a lot to handle! I have learned other languages but never had to work so hard to understand the basics. Let's have a look!

Wàhálà: Which letters do I need to write Yorùbá?

You need all the letters of the Yorùbá alphabet: a, b, d, e, ẹ, f, g, gb, h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, ọ, p, r, s, ṣ, t, u, w, y. Three of these Latin letters have a dot below: ṣ, ẹ, ọ. Diacritical marks called “acute” (´) and “grave” (`) are applied on vowels and the syllabic consonants n or m for a high or a low tone. Mid-tone is generally left unmarked, with two exceptions: The macron, a small straight bar above a letter, is used on the letter n (n̄) or m (m̄). Nasal vowels are written as: ẹn, an, ọn, un, in. The p sound alone does not exist, that's why p always stands for a kp sound, called a plosive consonant (like the gb, here it's two letters representing one sound). The rest is more or less clear to the Orisha Image readers, I guess most of us understand English and one additional Roman language. If you can read this website, it is just a small step to Yorùbá. What you see is what you get! The spelling is very close to phonetics, it is simple compared to other languages. I remember an example by author George Bernhard Shaw: the English word "fish" could be spelled "ghoti" – gh as in "tough", o as in "women", ti as in "nation".

Recommendation: The Yorùbá language script is a spell-it-like-it-sounds system, it is easy to learn. Relax!

The bookshop at the university campus of Ilé-Ifẹ̀ has a huge section on Yorùbá language books. Unfortunately, outside of Nigeria they are not available, not even in digital versions! Some old books are distributed as pdf/scans by South American Orisha shops (botánicas). ©Orisha Image

Wàhálà: Many people ignore accent marks, why should I write them?

Let me answer by quoting Ayọ̀ Bám̄gbóṣé: “The question whether tone should be indicated or not has only one possible answer. It should, because tones are significant in the way that consonants and vowels are. We saw that the contrast in meaning between dé (arrive) and ké (cry) is due to the contrast in the significant sounds represented by the letters d and k. In the same way, the contrast in meaning between kọ́ (teach) and kọ̀ (refuse) is entirely due to the difference in tone.” (Yoruba Orthography, Ibadan University Press, 1965, p.16) Those who ignore accents marks do not know where to find them on a keyboard or are too lazy. Without accents you have to guess the meaning of words like oko, òkò, okò or ara, ará, àrá and àrà.

Recommendation: Always tonemark! Avoid misunderstandings. Yorùbá is a tonal language, tones are an integral part of it. Change the melody and you change the meaning! Read Linguist Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún’s latest blog entry about the tonemarking workshops he offers since a few weeks in Lagos! Interesting insights into language policies.


Wàhálà: What’s a nasal vowel?

A nasal vowel is produced by lowering the soft palate so that the air escapes through the nose and the mouth. Think of the ending of a French word like façon or croissant or the Brazilian Portuguese Oxum or Ogum. In Yorùbá nasal vowels are written as in, ẹn, an, ọn, un, like in ibọn (gun), ọ̀kan (one), ẹran (meat), Ògún (Òrìṣà). The letter n here just indicates that this vowel is a nasal vowel! A long time I was not aware that a vowel following a nasal consonant is nasalized, too. I heard it, but as it is not written like a usual nasal, I "ignored" it (as far as you can ignore it, as it is natural to happen). Example: mu (to drink), iná (fire), ọ̀nà (way), mọ̀ (to know). Antiquated dictionaries write e.g. Yemọnja (the river deity), ọmọn (child), inọ́n (fire) or nọ́ǹ, today this is spelled Yemọja, ọmọ, iná or náà. Lengthened nasals are separated with a hyphen, like gan-an (really) or márùn-ún (five). If a verb ends in a nasal vowel, the following object must also be written as a nasal, like in mo fún un (I gave him/her), mo mọ̀ ọ́n (I know him/her/it). You can hear examples in the videos posted on this page.

Recommendation: Nasals are important to distinguish words from each other, like ooru (temperature) from oorun (sleep).


This is the macron in Yorùbá on the syllabic nasals in mid tone. Don't mix it up with the tilde, especially when printed in very small letters. ©Orisha Image

Wàhálà: What is this macron thing about?

A macron is a small straight bar above a letter. In general, the tone on a syllabic nasal (n, m) should be indicated, like in kọ̀ǹkọ̀ (edible frog). This is important especially in cases where the n could get confused with an n indicating nasality, but it is not restricted to the n, since it is not the only syllabic nasal. The macron (n̄, m̄) is used to indicate that the syllabic nasal is actually pronounced on a mid-tone level, like in ron̄do (round), gban̄gba (open space), ṣọn̄ṣọ (pointed), Bám̄gbóṣé (a name) or Ọlábím̄tán (a name). The Yorùbá Cross Border Language Commission used a tilde instead of a macron in their latest paper (ñ instead of n̄), I guess it's a typo. The macron is hard to find on a keyboard! It is part of the Yorùbá writing standard since 1965, but I can find it hardly anywhere in print.

Recommendation: There are not many words that require a macron. The n̄ is more common than the m̄. Use it! Let’s save the Yorùbá macron!


Wàhálà: Where is the Yorùbá writing standard in all details defined?

Not on Wikipedia. There are some classical papers you should know: “Yoruba Orthography. Linguistic Appraisal with Suggestions for Reform. Based on a talk given to the Ẹgbẹ Ijinlẹ Yoruba at Ibadan on March 5, 1964 by Ayọ Bamgboṣe, Ibadan University Press, 1976 (first edition printed in 1965)”. Compare this to the “Orthographies of Nigerian Languages. Manual 1. Published by the National Language Centre, edited by Ayo Bamgbose, Federal Ministry of Education, Lagos, 1983”. Finally, the “Modern Yoruba Writing Manual” published by the Yorùbá Cross-Border Language Commission in 2017. It is interesting, e.g. the chapters on word-division, the questionwords, splitting words with emphasized objetcs, etc. Thanks to linguist Victor Manfredi for drawing my attention to all these papers!

Recommendation: Try to get these articles in libraries and download the latest one by the Cross-Border Language Commission. (Note: They describe phonetic “indigenization” rules. Fruit becomes fúrúùtù, exodus ẹ́kísódù, dog dọ́ọ̀gì, bomb bọ́ǹbù. While other nationalist language politics try to preserve their local identity by avoiding English terms, they make them their own, an interesting strategy. Obviously opposing the politics of the olden days, when English phrases like "population census" became known as ìkànìyàn, from ìkà'nìyàn, the act of counting people. Today it would be the Language Commission approved term sẹ́nsọ́ọ̀sì, I guess. This is not the type of Yorùbá I want to learn! I am more the èso, not so much the fúrúùtù type of guy.)


Wàhálà: “Dot below” or “vertical line below”?

Two variants are officially in use for the vowels ọ, ẹ and the ṣ, the “dot below” and the “vertical line below” variant. Both are correct. I prefer the elegant subdot, but other authors prefer the small line, that is often connected to the letterbody. If you imagine writing by hand with a pen on paper, a line is quicker and more efficient than a single, small, almost invisible dot. Some people argue that the small vertical line allows you to underline a word without losing the dot, but that’s not true. If I underline a word with dotted letters, in some programs the dots stay visible and the line automatically gets interrupted where the dots appear. In other programs the dots are above the line, so I think this is not that important. If you get a Yorùbá text from another author to include it into your publication, be sure to discuss which version you want to use! Some websites or publications use both versions, this is confusing, especially when the chosen font supports only the subdot or the vertical line below.

Recommendation: Important is to stick to one version for one publication. I prefer the dot, but the small vertical line is also common.

Wàhálà: Are all these signs on my keyboard?

No, they aren’t. Not yet. You can download a free Yorùbá keyboard layout published by Yorùbáname.com. Ideally you have already an English language standard keyboard (QWERTY-based Latin-script keyboard). Some of your keys will get new functions. I use a German language keyboard, I have some additional letters and diacritical marks you won’t find on your English version. I would have to get used to the English keyboard first, to change it then to the Yorùbá one. That’s why I don’t use a Yorùbá keyboard. But you could! It is also an interesting question in which order you apply the dots and tonemarks while typing. The keyboard comes with a user manual on how to install it on your computer.

It would be great to have a Yorùbá keyboard cover. My Jewish friends have them for their MacBooks in Hebrew. You just place a thin plastic cover on your keyboard and immediately you have the visual language signs in front of you. It is great and simple! Naija businessman, please! It would also be cool to have the dotted and accented letters appear in this small submenu on your smartphone or tablet keyboard, if you hold a letter for a second. I wonder if there is an app for that already.

If you just type occasionally some words or a sentence in Yorùbá, you can use the copy and paste method. A lot of work, but if it is just for a small poem or notes during the online Yorùbá Òrìṣà song class … Open your text editor and prepare a line with the letters below. You find them in a special character’s section in the menu or you just copy them from this website. The rest should be on your keyboard: ẹ̀ ẹ ẹ́ / Ẹ̀ Ẹ Ẹ́ / ọ̀ ọ ọ́ / Ọ̀ Ọ Ọ́ / ṣ Ṣ / ǹ ń Ǹ Ń / m̀ ḿ M̀ Ḿ / n̄ N̄ m̄ M̄

Recommendation: Install a Yorùbá keyboard, et voilà!
Wàhálà: Why does it look so weird in my computer program?

Not all programs support the letters you need. I have an Apple computer. In some programs the dotted letters are replaced by strange characters. If I use them in the iMovie program for subtitles with a common font like Arial, the dotted letters appear, but the diacritical marks are totally off, like a mile away from the letter (see the video above). In other programs subdots disappear, switch to the right or left side, or merge into the letterbody. Typographers call this a kernel spacing problem, caused by combinations of subdots with acute or grave accents. This also happens in fonts which are called “Unicode compliant” (see the Unicode question below).

Recommendation: You need a program that can interpret a font that can interpret dotted letters with diacritics in combination. If you plan to buy e.g. an expensive program to subtitle your new Òrìṣà movie, ask the company first if it works. If they know.
Wàhálà: I changed the typeface, now my dotted letters look strange (or are completely lost)!

Be careful when you want to use a fancy typeface to promote your Yorùbá class or design a flyer in Photoshop for your bàtá-drumming event. Not all fonts have letters with an underdot in their repertoire! What some computer programs likely do, without asking you, is to use another typeface to substitute the “missing” character. Have you ever thought something like: “These Yorùbá characters look so strange, they are a bit larger/smaller/thinner/fatter than the rest of my text!” This is the typeface problem. The outcome is a horrible mixture of different letter styles (serif, sans-serif) within one word. Even an institution like the new BBC Yorùbá channel had this font problem in some images with included texts. Microsoft has this problem right on the website to download the Yorùbá Language Office Accessory Pack (at least in my Safari browser, I have seen it works with other browsers on other computers...). 650-page dictionaries and language courses have been published with these typeface errors. While you can manually work around it in Adobe programs for a short headline, in a running text it is impossible. In old publications you can often find accents and subdots written by hand, this had to be done directly during the printing process.

Recommendation: You need a font that supports Yorùbá characters! Ask your favorite type foundry (the company that designs and distributes type faces).

Wàhálà: What about Unicode?

All these problems would be much easier to solve with precomposed Unicode characters reserved especially for Yorùbá language. Unicode is the computing industry’s standard for the handling of text. It contains a repertoire for around 136.000 characters covering 140 scripts, many of these scripts are historic and not in use (like Unicode Egyptian Hieroglyphs). Problem is: Yorùbá was rejected from Unicode. A question of politics and the power of monopolistic corporations. I am still trying to understand it completely, maybe 30 million people in Africa is not enough. If you see a text with underdots on vowels and an accent mark above this letter on your screen, these two bits of information have to be combined (combining diacritics), instead of having a dotted and accented Yorùbá glyph as one piece of information. The vowels ẹ and ọ and the ṣ with an underdot are part of the Vietnamese and Romanized Indic language set in Unicode, but in Yorùbá you have to combine the vowels with additional accents.

This causes aesthetical problems with fonts not only on screens or in print, but also in search functions. I have a pdf from a book with thousands of Yorùbá proverbs. I was searching for a Yorùbá word on a topic, like Ọ̀ṣun. It does not work. I can look for the English translation as Osun or Oshun, but I cannot search for a Yorùbá word with a dot and an accent in the pdf program’s search bar. Many search engines ignore dots or tonemarks, depending also on the format: pdf, html, plain text, or others, and there are several ways to encode a given combination (e.g. tone before the dot, tone after the dot). There is no uniform string that could be searched. Unambiguous string searches are impossible for the Yorùbá language.

Recommendation: If you want to fully understand this process – what’s going on behind your screen, the computing industry and how this is related to Nigerian language politics and the power of private companies – visit the website of linguist Victor Manfredi and study his detailed explanations. There is an interesting menu point called "Proposed Changes" on the Unicode Consortium website. Maybe we should all use this button and tell them how a tonal language works?!

Here you can see how Nigerian designers update fonts: the subdot and the diacritics appear too small for such a heavy font. Very likely added in an Adobe program, but not part of the original font characters. A famous beadmaker and artist in Ilé-Ifè. ©Orisha Image

Wàhálà: Where do I get Yorùbá fonts?

A good question. I hope typographers in the future will work hard to supply us with modern fonts that cover the Yorùbá language. Probably typographers haven’t heard yet of the growing demand from Yorùbáland or its diaspora. Linguist Victor Manfredi developed a font with the famous German type designer Hermann Zapf, it was called PanNigerian. By adding a few more characters to Yorùbá it covered also Igbo and Hausa language. There is a detailed documentation online. I hope it will be digitalized one day! An original Hermann Zapf font, developed only for Nigeria! This would be something!

There is one company I know, that is selling Yorùbá fonts for professional publications, see the website linguistsoftware.com. I found this information in the colophon of a book by Amanda Villepastour about bàtá drumming, she used their fonts in her publication. The company sells a font called AfroRoman in five typestyles (inspired by Times, Helvetica, Garamond, Palatino and Zapf-Chancery) in Unicode, TrueType and PostScript formats. No Open Type format yet. You can also check entries like "Latin Small Letter E With Dot Below" and other Unicode characters on fileformat.info. There is a list of fonts included, that support this specific character.

Recommendation: Visit linguistsoftware.com or try boring ones installed on your computer (Arial, Times New Roman, Calibri, etc.) called Unicode compliant. Type foundries have character sets for every design they sell, there you can see if it features dotted and accented letters and macrons. Usually today a good typeface has around 900 different glyphs. Here is an example of a character set of a beautiful font called Soleil.


A sketch by Hermann Zapf for the PanNigerian typeface. It is based on design specifications Victor Manfredi provided on behalf of the Advisory Committee of the Federal Ministry of Education. See Manfredi`s online documentation.


Wàhálà: What defines a good Yorùbá typeface?

Again, read the papers from Victor Manfredi who developed the PanNigerian. Several problems might occur depending on the chosen typeface: Often upper case letters with tonemarks are too high, they would have to be reduced to a lower height. The vertical line below an open O makes it appear a Q. The dot below is too thin and visually insignificant. Do you go for a "dot" or a "vertical line", or a mixture of both as a "lengthened dot" below? For the type designers: add a few letters more, and you have a design not only for Yorùbá, but a Pan-Nigerian one. The market, if I add up the demographic figures from Wikipedia for Yorùbá, Igbo and Hausa people in Nigeria: 100 million people!

Recommendation: I don’t know fonts that are designed especially for Yorùbá, except the AfroRoman mentioned above. Contributions welcome!

Wàhálà: I wanna self-publish about Òrìṣà and use Yorùbá language

Be sure to have a platform where you can upload a pdf with your own layout or check with the publisher if they can either print your Yorùbá copies later (print-on-demand) or if the electronical devices (Kindle) or programs of the readers can interpret the Yorùbá characters. I ordered self-published books about Òrìṣà and received copies from print-on-demand platforms where e.g. an empty space covered every dotted letter that also had a diacritic mark – expect weird problems like that. One platform I checked says “Special characters should be avoided. Look at your keyboard. Any character you don’t see may not convert properly.” Web publishing, if your readers have updated browsers and you stick to some basic (and boring) fonts like Arial Unicode, should not be a problem. That’s why I use the Arial font here, though there would be so many beautiful fonts, that just don’t work with Yorùbá. I also checked before I started my blog if the provider can handle the Yorùbá script at least in the Arial font, and I hope you, the users, have updated browsers to interpret the website. I can never be 100% sure if you see all the accents and macrons on your individual screen. If you post links with preview-texts in other apps, maybe not  everything can be displayed, I went through some of these problems already!

Recommendation: Check if your self-publishing platform can handle your scripts. It is about the font type, its embedding in the document, unicode letters, conversion from program to program, and the final way of display or printing. Many things to consider!

Wàhálà: I have great old books I use as a source!

As a Yorùbá language student you are going to use Nigerian publications for primary school level. I bought many of them on the second-hand book market or copied material from public libraries. They were published between the 1950s and 1970s. Most of them were illustrated with fabulous ink drawings and cover cultural topics, sometimes with chapters about Òrìṣà (though it is not the kind of authentic source you might be looking for). They are a good source to enlarge your vocabulary, often they have written dialogues which resemble a spoken Yorùbá (from the 1960s, when a window still was called fèrèsé). Although some of these series are published today in updated versions, the old copies are written in the antiquated language standard. Other books, like the novels by D.O. Fagunwa, were written for a Yorùbá audience and apply tone-markings only when absolutely necessary to avoid ambiguity – not very useful for a language student. If you come across a new word, you do not even know how to pronounce it, neither can you guess where it comes from.

Recommendation: Use these books to enlarge your vocabulary, don’t get used to the spelling. Enjoy the artwork.

Wàhálà: I use a widespread dictionary that helps me a lot!

The most widespread and cheapest bilingual Yorùbá dictionary, still sold, is the one published in 1913 by the Church Mission Society. It has never been updated. Don’t trust the Amazon advertising text. Needless to say, forget about the diacritical marks in this book. Tone-markings are not accurate and the “tilde” (a small wave-like line) on vowels is not in use anymore. The best dictionary is still Abraham’s from 1958, once sponsored by the Nigerian government. It costs a fortune on the second-hand book market (expect to pay 300 dollars). It has its own orthography for describing tonal qualities, but it is very precise. Cheaper digital versions (scans, pdfs) fluctuate via Venezuelan online-botánicas or your Brazilian olorixá friends. If you want to know about 20 different Yorùbá dictionaries, I dedicated a long blog entry to a review. Unfortunately, Yorùbá has 30 million speakers, there’s a huge diaspora interest on the culture with millions of olórìṣà, but there is no good contemporary bilingual dictionary in English language on the market that could be recommended, with one exception: The Global Yoruba Lexical Database, which is incredible and should be the source for every author publishing in Yorùbá language. If the Nigerian government ever invests in a new one? Or the Ọọ̀ni of Ilé-Ifẹ̀? One in a century would be really cool!

Recommendation: Buy as many of these dictionaries as you can afford and compare their entries. Wait for the new free Online Yorùbá Dictionary yorubaword.com. Or get access to the recommended Global Yoruba Lexical Database (only through an expensive subscription).

Wàhálà: Ok, any other issues with antiquated Yorùbá?

Yes, especially in the diaspora old Yorùbá spellings are very popular, like the Brazilian aiyé (world), what should be spelled ayé today (without any difference in pronunciation). Sometimes I still see the ẹiyẹ (bird) that should also be written without the i as ẹyẹ. Also the tilde, a small wave-like line indicating a double vowel is not in use anymore today. Alãfin (king) is aláàfin, õrun (sleep) is oorun, õrùn (sun) is oòrùn, dãdã is dáadáa, etc. All lengthened vowels once were written with a tilde, an õ could have meant oo, òó, óò, oò etc. I think we have covered all the major problems with the old Yorùbá orthography now, including the few cases mentioned above.

Recommendation: Say goodbye to antiquated spellings.


Wàhálà: I checked all Yorùbá expressions by myself!

If you are going to publish a Yorùbá book, or one about Òrìṣà, have it proofread by a Yorùbá linguist who also knows about the traditional cultural world of Òrìṣà. When words are contracted vowels are omitted but the tone remains, when objects follow verbs their tone level “changes”, or think of the “Assimilated Low Tone”. Often you won’t find the word you are looking for in a dictionary, and if you find it, the dictionary was published in 1913. Don't forget, the tone a word has in a dictionary is not necessarily the tone it has in every grammatical structure! Do you know the rules for prefix elision, like in bọ́'já (bọ́ ajá) vs. j'ajá (jẹ ajá), or the use of apostrophes? If you have no Master’s degree in Yorùbá, you need professional help for publications. But it's not just about grammar.

In diaspora postings I have read expressions like ìgbàgbọ́ Òrìṣà. The dictionary says ìgbàgbọ́ means belief, but it is a popular term reserved for Christianity in Yorùbáland. As Susanne Wenger said in an interview, an Olórìṣà has no need to gbàgbọ́, he is oní Òrìṣà, literally the one who has/owns Òrìṣà. What remains to believe, when you already have got it? Once a Yorùbá scholar translated the word "initiated (into Òrìṣà)" as "got bewitched (by Òrìṣà)" for me. I was lucky to ask other persons if this was correct, and finally got the verb dóṣù that is used by olórìṣà. Be sure your proofreader has some connections to the traditional world and its vocabulary.

Recommendation: Always work with a linguist or a proofreader.


Wàhálà: Shall I call her Yemọja, Yemayá or Iemanjá?

I have a wonderful book about Ifá, thread-bound, hardcover, heavy paper, a modern font, ink drawings, high quality, expensive. It was published by a Brazilian babaláwo who was initiated into Ifá in Cuba and later went to Yorùbáland. The book is written in English, but the author decided to use the Yorùbá spelling for Òrìṣà names, what caused problems. There is a chapter on Yemọja, that calls her the deity of the sea and salt water. Problem is, Yemọja in Yorùbáland is not connected at all to the sea. Yemọja is a riverine deity, like Ọ̀ṣun. If we talk about Yemayá, the same goddess in Spanish/Lukumí spelling, it points to the Cuban diaspora where she really is worshipped as the deity of the sea (like in Brazil Iemanjá). It gets more confusing when the author references the Nigerian place of worship, a river he calls Ògún. The river Ògùn, low-low tone, and the Orisha Ògún, low-high tone, are not related. It is like saying in English “I am tired, I wanna go to bat!”. Likely you might respond “You need a bath?” or “The bat cave is to the left!“ No relation between bed and bat, none between Ògùn and Ògún. I found the version Yemojá in a Cuban book, the spelling is a mixture of Yorùbá Yemọja with Spanish/Lukumí Yemayá. Even if this is intended, maybe to bring the various traditions together into a new form of hybridization, for me as a reader and knowing the Yorùbá tonal language, that’s confusing. Changing melodies changes the meaning of the word completely.

A good example is Amanda Villepastour’s book “The Yoruba God of Drumming”. She uses Àyàn or Añá, bàtá or batá, depending on the context. Àyàn and bàtá is the Yorùbáland context, Añá and batá is the Cuban context. Àyàn and Añá might have the same roots, but their practice is very different today. And it is all about the orthography of the language spoken in the different countries. Separated since centuries, some of the Yorùbá words have another, sometimes different meaning in the diaspora. Authors can use this discourse.

Recommendation: Consider the cultural context of the Orisha/Oricha/Orixá/Òrìṣà and make it visible in the orthography what you are writing about.
Wàhálà: I want to re-Yorùbánize the Lukumí or Nagô expressions!

I have written a full blog entry on this, it is the most popular entry on this website, check it out here. It is a fascinating topic. Unfortunately, with the changed tonality and sounds Lukumí and Nagô (vocabulary used in Cuba and Brazil in Òrìṣà worship) have lost large parts of the original language’s information. If you look for the meaning of a song or prayer you have learnt in the diaspora, all depends on whom you ask for finding a possible re-interpretation. Many Yorùbá people, who are fluent in the language but not olórìṣà, might understand some words and interpret it according to their own knowledge. The Cuban “iyalocha” for example, is understood by a Yorùbá native speaker as “ìyálọ́jà” (the female head of a market) and not like “ìyálóòṣà” (Orisha priestess), what it originally meant. Simply because the Spanish language has neither a soft “ṣ” sound nor three different tone levels. Especially oríkì, praise names, are difficult to decipher. You would need someone who knows the pronunciation rules of both languages and both cultural contexts. Otherwise you have no chance to find the original meanings. Some songs are sung equally on both sides of the Atlantic, like the funeral song every Yorùbá knows and in Cuba is related to “Egún”. It is easy to get the lyrics for such songs. Others might be known only locally or by cultural bearers, initiated and trained olórìṣà and babaláwo. One person I know who has this kind of knowledge is Nathan Lugo, who speaks Spanish, English, Portuguese and Yorùbá and works as an olórìṣà initiated in Yorùbáland between Brazil, Cuba, US and Nigeria. He regularly teaches Òrìṣà songs in online classes, I have learnt a lot there. Also see the interview with Felix Ayoh’OMIDIRE on exactly this topic.


Recommendation: Stay critical when it comes to re-translation, all depends on the knowledge of your informants. And never use a dictionary!


What better not to do in the Sacred Grove of Òṣogbo. ©Orisha Image

Wàhálà: I recorded Òrìṣà prayers on my trip, now a Yorùbá speaker is going to transcribe them for me!

I had this problem when I wanted to have a single song transcribed, an orìkí for Òrìṣà Ọ̀ṣun recorded in Òṣogbo around 1980. You can listen to it here on this blog with bàtá drumming, live in the house of Susanne Wenger (with mp3). The problems with its translation is quoted in detail in this article. One translator was a professional proofreader from Ìbàdàn, one was a native from Òṣogbo and one a Yorùbá linguist, what led to three different translations for a few lines of the song. Remember there are many Yorùbá dialects, local expressions might not be known to speakers from other regions. Ifá chanting or songs are a poetical genre, interpretation varies and sometimes there is even a play-on-words with the melody accents. Even if you get a word-by-word translation you need to have the background knowledge to understand it. Òrìṣà songs require a vast knowledge on traditions, paraphernalia, images, medicine, praise names – only the olórìṣà know about these stories!

Recommendation: Try to get a translation immediately from the same person or someone around, not afterwards from another native speaker.

Wàhálà:  I have Yorùbá books from Benin and they look so different!

When large parts of Africa were divided between the colonial powers a border was drawn on the map through parts of Yorùbáland. Some subgroups live in the French-speaking countries Benin and Togo. The language politics there are different to Nigeria, as French orthography influenced the spelling of many names. If you speak French, it helps a lot to decipher Béninoise Yorùbá names. I have seen publications from Benin that use kp, sh and characters from phonetic spelling (IPA) instead of the dotted Roman letters, like many other African languages do (e.g. Bambara). I think recently the country changed to the Nigerian standard orthography and made Yorùbá an official language.

Recommendation: Keep in mind that Yorùbá writing has a lot to do with questions of power, politics and colonization, on the African continent and in the trans-Atlantic diaspora.


Taiwo ati Kehinde, educational Yorùbá language books for children, are available in re-editions today. ©Orisha Image

Wàhálà: Anything else?

Avoid horizontal underlines to imitate a dotted letter. I have seen this in documents by authors from the Yorùbá diaspora or people who are tired of dealing with all the Unicode problems. But this is not Yorùbá! It is ugly. I mean, better than not to mark them at all, but do not use it for professional publications.



All these recommendations are based on my own experience as a blogger and Yorùbá student. I hope it encourages the discussion or development of a few more digital tools or at least helps you in making your personal notes in the future in Yorùbá language script. To all the designers and typographers out there, the story of the PanNigerian font might be of enormous interest and serve as an inspiration! Nigerian publishing houses, please digitalize educational books (or any other Yorùbá books) and distribute them online! Always when I am posting photos from my library tours in the Orisha Image Instagram I get a dozen of e-mails from Brazil, Venezuela or the US ("Where can I get this book? Do you sell it? How much, asere?")

Most problems with Yorùbá writing are based on a combination of the points mentioned in this article. Ask yourself: What program am I working with? Which keyboard will I use? Does the program support the Unicode combinations? Do I have a good font? How will it be interpreted by the printer? How will it appear on a screen? I want to read more professional contemporary publications about Òrìṣà written in Yorùbá language, from the Yorùbáland perspective! Bilingual ones would also be great!

I would like to read from a professional journalist or another blogger about these Yorùbá language issues. What does Unicode say? Why all these problems? Encoded Egyptian hieroglyphes and emojis, but no Yorùbá letters? Seriously? No protests? I can not believe this, can someone please explain it? And what's going on in the language politics in Nigeria and Benin? Where can we find more serious information, contemporary grammar guide books, official orthography manuals without typos, bilingual dictionaries, Yorùbá publishing houses?

In the meanwhile have fun studying and writing Yorùbá! Save the Yorùbá macron! Òrìṣà gbè wá òòò! Àṣẹ!


To my surprise, the Lukumí books are full of animal names! I did not just find common domestic animal names, like Luk. ‘adié’ (hen), ‘ayá’ (dog) or ‘malú’ (cow). Instead, these Cuban books list many distinct African species! Some animal names from the African fauna have been adopted to the Caribbean environment, like it is the case with the generic term bushrat Yor. ‘eku’ and the Caribbean rodent hutia (Spanish ‘jutía’). This makes sense to me, although zoologists might not agree for all the names applied to other species, as many Yorùbá rodent names are used for the Caribbean hutia. Other ‘local’ Cuban animals received names from similar-looking African counterparts. The cattle egret became another name for the flamingo (or vice-versa the flamingo’s image was used to describe an egret?) or the ‘àlùkò’ and the ‘agbe’, colorful Yorùbá birds of blessing, became names for the peacock, the hyena became a wolf etc.


Some animal species received a more generic meaning in Cuba. The Yor. ‘odídẹ’, known as African grey parrot and important for Orisha initiations, became a word for parrot (‘loro’) in Cuba. Names of different antelope species survived subsumed as ‘venado’, deer, or the Yor. ‘ẹdun’, the white-thighed colobus monkey sacred to Orisha Ìbéji, is translated simply as ‘monkey’. This is not very different to Yorùbáland, where I have also read exactly the same translations in online animal lists: ‘ẹdun’ as ‘monkey’ and ’àgbọ̀nrín’ as ‘deer’. For some people this information might be correct, but it raises questions about dictionary entries. Is it too general to describe ‘ẹdun’ as monkey? Is colobus monkey alright? Or do you need the exact Latin scientific classification? There are so many colobus monkey subspecies, some of them look very equal. And, is the ‘ẹdun’ in the Western part of Yorùbáland maybe different to the ‘ẹdun’ in the East, just because different types of colobus monkey subspecies are living there? Has anyone ever tried to apply this knowledge to Yorùbá terms? Does it matter? It has to stay practical at the end. I know how the ‘ẹdun’ monkeys in the Sacred Grove in Òṣogbo look like, I took many photos, but could not find their exact scientific classification. Definitely they are a type of colobus monkeys, and like Abraham’s dictionary says, they have ‘white thighs‘. There is a very similar-looking species living outside of Yorùbáland in the Niger delta. See the photo in this blogpost, that’s an ‘ẹdun’ monkey of Orisha Ìbéji from the grove in Òṣogbo. I think red colobus monkey with white thighs is a good and short description.

I found lots of insect names in the Lukumí vocabulary books, what was another surprise. Also, big African mammals survived through their role in Ifá stories and Orisha mythology, like the Luk. ‘ayanakú’ (elephant), the ‘kini’ (lion) or the ‘ekún’, originally a leopard, which changed its identity to a tiger. A tiger is neither African nor Caribbean, but I have heard native Yorùbá speakers from Nigeria using the name of this Asian cat, too. Tiger seems to be a common expression for ‘big predatory feline with a beautiful pattern on its fur’. Other Yorùbá names of common species I could not find in Lukumí vocabulary, like the ‘ọmọ́lé’, though I was sure I would spot it finally somewhere in the vocabulary books (like ‘lagartijas’ in all Cuban houses). A few, like the ‘iguerere’ (Luk. toad), could not be deciphered by me or my Yorùbá friends.

I especially like the translation of the ‘eiyé gongó’, originally the Yorùbá word for ostrich, as a ‘bird with long legs’ in the Lukumí dictionary. I imagine an African-born grandmother telling her Creole grandchildren from her homeland and describing an ostrich. When the dictionary was compiled many decades later, the image of the ‘bird with long legs’ remained from this memory of the times of slavery. Or, less poetic, the ethnographer recording the vocabulary just did not know what an ostrich was and wrote down a part of its description: ‘pájaro con patas largas’. We don’t know. The interesting fact to me was that so many of them survived in the diaspora since the times of slavery in the world of the Orisha in Cuba! And again I learned a lot about Yorùbá language, too. I got to know the ‘agbe’ because the blue turaco is the peacock’s name in Cuba, and other Yorùbá birds and their feathers which are a blessing. The Lukumí name for hippopotamus is ‘omi ayanakú’ (a construction from the two words ‘water’ and ‘elephant’, but in a strange grammatical order, as ‘water of the elephant’) is almost the same like the Yorùbá ‘erinmi’, from ’erin omi’ – an ‘elephant of water’. I learned about the ‘àgùnfọn’, its description as ‘long and thin’, got to know the Yorùbá expression for the hen with ruffled feathers frequently offered to Ozain in Cuba… etc.

Below is the list. Watch the video for the pronunciation! The words are pronounced by linguist Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún from Lagos, Nigeria. Just two animal names and the intro I recorded with another Yorùbá friend. Some of the Lukumí words that I could not decipher (like Luk. ‘iguerere’) I added in Yorùbá language (in its meaning as ‘toad’). Others, like the peacock, are known under a different name in Yorùbáland today and some species have more than one name, like the Guinea fowl or the leopard (which has more names than listed here). Friends made suggestions when we discussed the Lukumí list and added other species (‘You have the ant? What about termite?’). The original Lukumí-only list became extended, but as I wanted to learn this Yorùbá vocabulary anyhow, I think it is a good addition. This is not a complete list of animals and it is not scientific work, it is a compilation made by a Yorùbá language student. Some animals are missing from the Lukumí dictionaries, because I could not decipher them. I am sure more vocabulary is used on the island than recorded in these books that I used as a source. It is just a small demonstration that introduces you to 100 Yorùbá animal names, based on a Lukumi vocabulary list, bringing them together in unity. No politics, no propaganda, no right or wrong, just words, two sides of the Atlantic, one reality, Orisha here and there, a bit of history and linguistics and a Yorùbá vocabulary lesson.


‘Àgùnfọn’ was not only used for animals in Cuba (here the goose), but also to ridicule about the ‘disproportionate‘ body of a person. Literally it means ‘long and thin’. Below you see the Yor. ‘agbe’, the blue turaco bird, translated as peacock or parrot. A detail from a Lukumí dictionary bought in a Cuban Orisha shop aorund 2000.

Working with Yorùbá dictionaries  is complicated, because on many animals they do not give an exact information (‘kind of a red bird’) or even make contradictory statements! ‘Àgùnfọn’ for example, in Cuba known as goose or turkey, is listed in Yorùbá dictionaries as peacock, egret and giraffe. Its name is a description, it means ‘(animal) with a long and thin (neck)’, so no wonder it was used for different species (and for persons in Cuba, see the image above from my old Cuban hand-copied Lukumí dictionary). Or what’s a quaiI, Yor. ‘àparò’? Do you use it as an expression for any small brownish domestic bird or is it the name of an exact species? Is the bird being referred to as a quail by Yorùbá-speakers another species than what is known and offered as Luk. ‘akuaro’ today in Cuba? Or is the original Yorùbá ‘àparò’, a wild animal (‘bushfowl’), similar to the domestic quail? Awoyale's dictionary lists the Senegambian Double-spurred Francolin besides the quail, the bushfowl and the partridge. So what is practically important, for non-zoologists? Difficult dictionary questions! Many Yorùbá translate ‘àgbọ̀nrín’ generally as deer and not as a species called bushbuck. It depends whom you ask – a hunter, farmer, scientist, butcher, cook, olorisha, babalawo, city dweller or villager – all might have different opinions. I asked around. Nowadays ‘ẹmọ́’ is known as Guinea pig to Yorùbá people, though it must have been a native name for a rodent. In Abraham’s dictionary it is listed as ‘Tullberg’s rat’, what is described as ‘Tullberg’s soft-furred mouse’ today. Guinea pigs are South-American (despite their name). I tried to sort many of these problems out, but questions remain. Have you ever asked your Yorùbá friends for all these types of so-called bushrats and edible rodents? No one knows an exact species’ name – just if they are tasty or not, or if they were better grilled than used for ‘soup’ or connected to rituals. I frequently heard statements like ’yes, I have eaten this one’ or ‘it’s very delicious’. Being tasty or not is definitely an important category for animals in Yorùbá language, where ‘meat’ and ‘animal’ is one word.


Here the tòlótòló that accompanied me on my road trip through Yorùbáland, while I waited in the car for the new tires to arrive from the next village. ©Orisha Image

Many Yorùbá animal names are composed of two words, but I wanted to keep it short in the video. The Yor. ‘ẹyẹlé’ (pigeon) is literally the ‘ẹyẹ ilé’, the house bird. The Yor. ‘èkúté ilé’, the house rat, is pronounced as a phrase like ‘èkútéelé’ but usually written in most dictionaries as èkútélé. So I mentioned some versions in the list below, but not in the video. Doubled words often use hyphens, though I do not know exactly where this custom comes from, it is not part of the Yorùbá orthography. I changed all the ‘yànmù-yánmú’ and ‘tòló-tòló’ to ‘yànmùyánmú’ and ‘tòlótòló’. At the bottom of this page you can compare some of these confusing dictionary entries.

The peacock, another non-African but important animal in Orisha worship in Cuba (not related to Oshun in Yorùbáland) has various names, from ‘eiye ologe’ (fashion conscious bird) in the Yorùbá bible and the bird’s description in 19th century Yorùbá vocabulary books as ’oruko eiye kan bi agbe’, lit. ‘name of a bird like the blue turaco’ (what points to the name it still has in Cuba) up to ‘ọ̀kín’ today, originally a word for a white egret. Language stays the same, but context changes. Have you ever held a small mouse in your hands? No? While you are reading this, sitting in front of your computer, one of your hands might currently be petting a ‘mouse’... The chance to encounter a living leopard today in Yorùbáland is nearly as high as meeting a tiger there. The leopard translated as tiger demonstrates that leopards are not part of the daily life anymore. The ‘ọ̀kín’, in Crowther’s dictionary a bird famous for its white feathers, became the peacock. Also the ‘àlùkò’ bird had more than one possible translation, from a type of purple (sic) woodcock to the bee-eater or a certain turaco type with beautiful, impressive red wings. It is the species that various Brazilian and Cuban botánica websites are selling its feathers from, as I found out through a hint by Nathan Lugo. In this case, as it is a bird of blessing and used in rituals, I trust in the knowledge of the olorisha community more than in the Yorùbá dictionaries. Yorùbá zoologists, please get into contact with me! The others, listen to the video to hear the correct pronunciation! And have fun!


The Yor. ìgbín, snail, is a very common food in Yorùbáland and offered to Orisha like Obatala. ©Orisha Image

Thank you to Nigerian writer and linguist  Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún from yorubaname.com for recording the soundfiles and making proposals for other species. Kọ́lá just started a new project: after creating yorubaname.com in 2015 he is currently crowdfunding the new Igbo Names Dictionary to strengthen the language diversity in Nigeria. There’s a good description on Indiegogo with many links to his past and ongoing projects. Who’s interested in Yorùbá language (or other languages spoken in Nigeria) should get into contact with Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún and support his initiatives!

Thank you also to olorisha and babalawo Nathan Lugo who runs olorisa.com for a revision of some of my Lukumí terms and helping me with their translations into Yorùbá. Nathan regularly teaches Orisha songs online in his Orisa Song Circle, very recommended to Yorùbá students to get to know the olorisha vocabulary. I have heard many Lukumí songs in their actual contemporary Yorùbá version there (and these versions are very different to all the ‘re-translations’ we know by people who used dictionaries as their source).

Thank you to Victor Manfredi (see his blog on people.bu.edu/manfredi/) for answering my questions on the history and development of Yorùbá language. Victor, who also speaks Igbo, can give fascinating insights from the linguist’s perspective on history. That’s the reason why I am so fascinated of language studies and the Lukumí observations. There’s a lot of history preserved in our daily vocabulary and grammar, it’s a bit like archeology, just that everything’s on the surface. Thank you to all my collaborators for their inspiring thoughts!

Here’s the complete alphabetical list: the order of the terms is Yorùbá-English-Spanish-Lukumí. If an animal name has another meaning in Lukumí than in Yorùbá, this is mentioned after the Lukumí term in English and Spanish again. A few species are mentioned by more than one name. Some only in Yorùbá without a Lukumí equivalent. Lukumí words often include more than one spelling variant, as there are no fixed rules. The Youtube video is included on top of this page, scroll up and see the video, or use the mp3 player here for audio only while reading on this webpage. I did not include the Lukumí terms in the video or soundfile – as they are all 100% Yorùbá (the only difference is the Spanish orthography) and not another language. I mention the Lukumí terms here in the list just as a background information.

àáyá red colobus monkey / mono colobus rojo ayá monkey / mono

abo female animal / animal hembra abó

àdàbà dove / paloma (no Lukumí)

àdán bat / murciélago adan

adìẹ hen / gallina adié, adiyé

adìẹ aṣa chicken breed with ruffled feathers / raza de pollo con plumas erizadas adie shashara

àfòòpiná moth, flying-ant / polilla, hormiga voladora (no Lukumí)

agbe great blue turaco / turaco gigante azul ague, aguí, agueyamí  peafowl / pavo real

àgbébọ̀ adìẹ full-grown hen / gallina adulta abeboadié

àgbò ram / carnero abó

àgbọ̀nrín bushbuck antelope / antílope jeroglífico abaní, agbaní  deer / venado

àgùnfọn crowned crane, giraffe / grulla coronada, jirafa agufá, eufan turkey, goose / pavo, ganso

àgùntàn sheep / oveja agutaná, agutan, ogután, oguta

ahun tortoise / tortuga awón, wón, ajún, aún

ajá dog / perro ayá

àjànàkú elephant / elefante ayanakú

akàn crab / cangrejo akan

àkéekèe scorpion / alacrán akeké, okeké

àkèré frog / rana (no Lukumí)

akítì monkey / mono (no Lukumí)

àkókó woodpecker / pájaro carpintero akokó

akọ male animal / animal macho akó

àkùkọ adìẹ cock / gallo akukó

àkùkọ òpìpì scantly feathered type of fowl / gallo pescuezo pelado akuko akuikui

alábahun ìjàpá, alábahun àjàpá  tortoise / tortuga (no Lukumí, see ahun and ìjàpá)

alágẹmo chameleon / camaleón alagüema, aguema

àláàkàṣà lobster / langosta alákasa

aláàmù lizard / lagarto alamó

aláǹgbá lizard / lagarto (no Lukumí)

aláǹtakùn spider / araña (no Lukumí, spider is called erá, see below)

àlùkò yellow-billed turaco / turaco piquigualdo aloko peafowl / pavo real

àmọ̀tẹ́kùn leopard / leopardo ayambeku tiger / tigre

àparò quail / codorniz akuaro

àṣá hawk / halcón (no Lukumí equivalent)

awó Guinea hen / gallina de Guinea (no Lukumí)

ayíyán, aáyán cockroach / cucaracha añaí

edé shrimp / camarón edé

egbin Kob antelope / antílope cobo (no Lukumí)


èkòló earthworm / lombríz ekolo

èkùlù duiker antelope / antílope duiker ekulú deer / venado

eèrà ant / hormiga erá ant, spider / hormiga, araña

ehoro rabbit / conejo ejoro/ojoro

ejò snake / serpiente eyó/eyú

eku bushrat / rata salvaje ekú jutía / hutia (Caribbean rodent)

èkúté rat / rata ekuté

èkútéelé (èkúté ilé) house rat, mouse / rata de casa, ratón ekutelé

erè python / pitón eré majá / Cuban boa

erin elephant / elefante erín

erinmi (erin omi), erinmi l’ókun  hippopotamus / hipopótamo omi ayanakú hippopotamus hipopótamo

eṣinṣin fly / mosca esisí, echichí, echín echín insects / bichos, guasasa

esunsun winged termite / termita voladora (no Lukumí)

ewúrẹ́ goat / chiva euré


At the backyard of Susanne Wenger's home in Òṣogbo, the typical ‘urban’ goat (Yor. ewúrẹ́) from Yorùbáland, outside of Nigeria known as the ‘Nigerian Dwarf Goat’. Its thin skin is one of the main ingredients for Àyàn talking drums. ©Orisha Image

ẹdun white-thighed red colobus monkey / mono colobus rojo con muslos blancos edú, edún monkey / mono

ẹfọ̀n buffalo / búfalo efón

ẹ̀fọn mosquito (no Lukumí)

ẹja fish / pez eyá

ẹja àrọ̀ catfish / pez gato eyá oro  guabina (Cuban fish species) / guabina (pez Cubano) Note: The Cuban ‘eyá oro’ could also come from Yor. ‘orò’, what means ritual, traditional custom.

ẹkùn leopard / leopardo ekún tiger / tigre

ẹlẹ́dẹ̀ pig / cochino eledé

ẹmọ́ Tullberg’s praomys (rodent), Guinea pig / praomys tullbergi (roedor), conejillo de Indias (no Lukumí)

ẹran meat, domestic animal / carne, animal domestico erán  meat / carne

ẹranlá (ẹran ńlá) bull / toro eranla  cow / vaca

ẹṣin horse / caballo esí, echí, echín

ẹtù Guinea hen / gallina de Guinea etún, etú

ẹtu Maxwell’s duiker antelope / antílope duiker de Maxwell (no Lukumí)

ẹyẹ bird / pájaro eiye, eyé, ellé

ẹyẹ idì eagle / águila eiyé dí, elledí  kite / milano

ẹyẹlé (ẹyẹ ilé) pigeon / paloma ellelé, eyelé

ẹyẹ ọba common gonolek / bubú coronigualdo (laniarius barbarus) eiyé obá peafowl / pavo real Note: maybe a direct Cuban Spanish-Yorùbá translation from ‘(pavo) real’ (royal) to ‘ọba’ (king) and not related to the African bird species at all

ẹyin egg / huevo eñí, eyi, eñin

gúnugún vulture / buitre gunukú, gunugú

ìgbín snail / caracol igbin, ebin

ìjàpá, àjàpá tortoise / tortuga ayakua, ayapa

ikán termite / termite (no Lukumí)

ìkookò hyena / hiena ikoko wolf / lobo

ìkóódẹ (ìkó oódẹ) African grey parrot’s tail feather / pluma timonera de la cola del loro gris Africano ikodé, ikordié

ìnàkí chimpanzee / chimpancé (no Lukumí)

ìrẹ̀ cricket / grillo iré

kẹ́tẹ́kẹ́tẹ́ donkey / burro ketekete  mule / mula

kìnìún lion / leon kini

kòkòrò worms, insects / bichos kokoró

kọ̀lọ̀kọ̀lọ̀ fennec fox / fénec zorro del desierto koló koló

kọ̀ǹkọ̀ edible frog / rana comestible (no Lukumí)

labalábá butterfly / mariposa alabalá

lámilámi dragonfly / libélula (no Lukumí)

lékèélékèé cattle egret / garcilla bueyera leke leke flamingo, egret / flamenco, garza

mààlúù cow, cattle, ox / vaca, res, buey malú

òbúkọ, òrúkọ billy goat / chivo ouko, ounko, auko, aunko

oódẹ, odídẹ, odídẹrẹ́ African grey parrot / loro gris odidé parrot / loro

ògòǹgò ostrich / avestruz eiyé gongó bird with long legs / pajaro con patas largas

òkété giant pouched rat / rata de abazones gigantes oketé hutia (Caribbean rodent) / jutía

ológbò cat / gato ologuó

ológìní cat / gato ológüine

òròmọdìẹ (òrò ọmọ adìẹ) young chicks / pollito (no Lukumí)

oyin bee / abeja oñí

ọ̀bọ monkey / mono oobo

ọ̀dá castrated animal / animal capado odan/edan

ọ̀gà chameleon / camaleón (no Lukumí)

ọ̀kẹ́rẹ́ squirrel / ardilla okeré hutia (Caribbean rodent) / jutía

ọmọ́lé, ọmọnílé gecko / lagartija (no Lukumí)

ọ̀pọ̀lọ́ toad / sapo okuoló, boló, akualá

ọ̀kín egret, peafowl / garcilla, pavo real (agbe or ẹyẹ ọba or àlùkò in Lukumí)

ọ̀ọ̀kùn, ọ̀kùnrùn centipede, millipede / ciempiés, milpiés (no Lukumí)

ọ̀nì crocodile / cocodrilo oni

ọ̀yà greater cane rat, grasscutter / rata de las cañas, aulácodo (no Lukumí)

pẹ́pẹ́yẹ duck, goose / pato, ganso kuekueye/ekuekueye

sèbé snake / serpiente chegué

tòlótòló turkey / pavo tolotolo, kuólo kuólo

tannátanná firefly / luciérnaga (no Lukumí)

yànmùyánmú mosquito / mosquito ñamuñamu


Here examples from Yorùbá dictionaries. I compared various animal entries in eight dictionaries (see my dictionary review for more information about these books). The contemporary meaning of some words in Yorùbáland differs from the ‘original’ or historical meaning. Some terms like ‘àgùnfọn’, which literally means ‘the long and thin’ animal, is used for the giraffe, but was applied to the crane decades ago, and in Cuba became a goose or turkey. It is a term that makes sense for all these animals mentioned. The Yor. ‘ọ̀kín’, identified by Yorùbá speakers as peacock today, was once an egret, mentioned by Samuel Crowther as ‘a bird, the white feathers of which are very valued’, etc.

àgùnfọn: crowned crane (historic) or giraffe (contemporary)?

Jefferson Bowen (1858): The crested crane
Crowther (1852): a kind of long-necked crested bird. It is a common superstition that its bones can not and must not be broken.
CMS (1913): a long-necked, crested bird. There is a superstition that its bones can not be broken.
Abrahams (1958): West African crowned crane (gùn + fọn) = crownbird (balearica pavonina P.) The crown bird walks slowly but majestically, but when alarmed often breaks into a run before flying away. It eats grain… (etc.)
Fakinlede (2003): (tallest animal) giraffe
Awoyale (2017): giraffe
Chief Fama’s Ede Awo (1996):  peacock
Lukumí dictionaries: goose, turkey

ẹmọ́: Tullberg’s soft furred mouse (historic) or guinea pig (contemporary, not endemic)?

Jefferson Bowen: no entry
Crowther: kind of brown rat
CMS: brown rat
Abrahams: Tullberg’s rat (Praomys Tullbergi): see illustration; - Òìbó guineapig
Fakinlede: kind of rat
Awoyale: bush rat, Tullberg’s rat (ẹmọ́le or ẹmọ́ òyìnbó or ẹmọ́ ọ̀sin: guinea pig)
Chief Fama’s Ede Awo: brown rat (Tullberg’s rat)
Lukumí dictionaries: no entry

ẹkùn: leopard (historic) or tiger (contemporary, not endemic)?

Jefferson Bowen: leopard
Crowther: leopard
CMS: leopard
Abrahams: leopard (=ògìdán v. àmọ̀tẹ́kùn)
Fakinlede: leopard
Awoyale: tiger. leopard (only leopards are found in Yorubaland) cf. ògìdán, àmọ̀tẹ́kùn
Chief Fama’s Ede Awo: leopard
Lukumí dictionaries: tiger

àmọ̀tẹ́kùn: leopard (no doubts, just to have a comparison with ẹkùn)

Jefferson Bowen: an animal like a leopard
Crowther: an animal of the leopard kind, panther, Jákumọ (to-ẹkun)
CMS: species of leopard, panther
Abrahams: =àmọ̀ type of leopard
Fakinlede: panther
Awoyale: leopard, panther, jaguar, cheetah
Chief Fama’s Ede Awo: no entry
Lukumi dictionaries: tiger

ọ̀kín: egret (historic) or peafowl (contemporary, not endemic)?

Jefferson Bowen: no entry
Crowther: a bird, the white feathers of which are much valued, e.g. ọ̀kín baba ẹiyẹ, ọ̀kín ẹlẹwa àlà – Okin is the king of birds, the owner oft he beautiful white feathers. Interesting: He lists English peacock as „oruko eiye kan bi agbe“ (name of a bird like the blue turaco)
CMS: see above, same as Crowther. Interesting: CMS lists English peacock as ẹiyẹ ologe (as translated in the bible)
Abrahams: egret (bird)
Fakinlede: no entry (his English entry for peacock is ẹyẹ ológe)
Awoyale: peacock bird (plus many proverbs that it is a rare and beautiful bird)
Chief Fama’s Ede Awo: no entry
Lukumí dictionaries: no entry

àgbáǹréré: antelope (historic) or giraffe (contemporary)?


àgbáǹréré: antelope (historic) or giraffe (contemporary)?

Jefferson Bowen: the unicorn: agbanrère olowo kán, the agbanrère is one-horned
Crowther: the rhinoceros; an animal with one horn, supposed by the natives to be the unicorn, agbanrére olowo kan, the one-horned agbanrere
CMS: rhinoceros, unicorn
Abrahams: roan antelope
Fakinlede: type of antelope
Awoyale: antelope type
Chief Fama’s Ede Awo: no entry
Lukumí dictionaries: no entry



I hope this was interesting! Let's keep in touch! I am always happy to hear from other people studying Yorùbá language or to share stories about Orisha worldwide! Thank you!

A GUIDE TO THE SACRED GROVES OF ÒṢOGBO
JULY 9, 2018
This guide through the Sacred Groves of Ọ̀ṣun Òṣogbo was written by Àdùnní Olórìṣà Susanne Wenger, several versions exist. It was published in the book “The Sacred Groves of Oshogbo”, edited by Augustine Merzeder in 1990 and distributed in Nigeria. After all the copies of the book have been sold Wenger produced a cheap booklet and had parts of it reprinted, subtitled “Excerpt from the Book”. There is a third version from 1988, predating these publications, which was edited by linguist Victor Manfredi.


By chance I found an old copy of the cheap booklet when I was visiting Òṣogbo in 2015. It was very inspiring reading Susanne Wenger’s text about the shrines - inspiring like a visit to the Grove must have been together with her. I thought it should be available to a large audience again. This text is published with kind permission from Gusti Merzeder-Taylor, member of the Àdùnní Olórìṣà Trust in Nigeria and the Susanne Wenger Foundation in Austria. She published this text in the book mentioned above. Thank you Gusti. Thank you to Victor Manfredi, long-term collaborator with Susanne Wenger, for the permission of  using Yorùbá language translations from his version of the text. Thank you to Dunja Herzog for letting me work with her archive of poetic photos from the Grove. Dunja Herzog is a contemporary artist who visited Òṣogbo several times doing research on Susanne Wenger and her artwork. Thank you very much to Wenger's daughter Doyin Olosun who welcomed me in Òṣogbo and explained the world of the Orisha to me. Oore yèyé òòò!

The photos I chose from Dunja Herzog's archive (and combined with some of my own) will not introduce you like a tourist to all the shrine architecture, sculptures and artwork mentioned in the text. Instead they capture the spirit of the Sacred Grove, the realms of nature Àdùnní Olórìṣà Susanne Wenger loved and that deeply influenced her work and life with the Òrìṣà.

A Visit to the Sacred Groves of Òṣogbo
(Excerpt from the Excerpt from the Book)

by Àdùnní Olórìṣà Susanne Wenger


The visitor’s first encounter with Òrìṣà, the Yorùbá gods, is Igbó Ọya, the Ọya Grove, on the left. The original Ọya Grove was in town, behind the present Ojú Orí Ọba Kòso, Dúró Ládípọ̀’s mausoleum and the former Mbarí Mbayọ̀ club. The grove was transferred long before the beginning of the New Sacred Art. Now here on the spot and altar where Ọya priests lay down atonement offerings, stand magnificent statues of the goddess Ọya and her beloved husband, the god Ṣàngó. The twin sculptures, carved by Kàsálí Àkàngbé, are really one, carved from a single teak tree stem (embedded in the ground) which branches into two. This symbolizes the ritual and emotional closeness of these divine personages in the oneness of ideal marriage.

The forest which abuts Ọya Grove is that of Ọbalúayé and Alájere, but while the Ọya Grove reaches the river, Ọbalúayé’s grove reaches close to Àwọ̀wọ̀, the steep precipice where Ògún Tìmẹhìn encountered the helpers of the god of floral-magic potencies, Ọ̀sanyìn, an encounter which catapulted Tìmẹhìn into divine status and beyond time. Thus Òṣogbo’s timeless myth lingers on here under taboo, fed by the river’s mystic prowess.


The visitor is advised against roaming about unguided in this and other parts of the Sacred Groves. This warning should not be disregarded. The visitor who treats frivolously what we feel to be serious is not welcome in our precincts of worship. Remembering our warnings about poisonous snakes (in the service of the gods, like all that lives here), the visitor may follow the guide.

As one advances uphill, nearly ascending the height of Ontótóo, the teak plantation recedes. The teak replaces what were once the groves of Ẹgbẹ́. Bravely invading the havoc of scattered roots and branches, under cover of night, we managed to save two of our dying floric friends by wrapping white cloths around their doom-expecting bodies. (One of those saved was recently burned alive, however.) Between this plantation sector and the present Orò groves, a path branches off. On this intersection of three paths (all the roads were once forest paths) is Idí Èṣù. Èṣù is always ritually remembered on crossroads, which physically correlate with his meta-intellectual complex of multidimensional assignments. Èṣù is responsible for regulating traffic among the illimitable thought complexes of his friend, the oracular Ifá. The statue on Idí Èṣù is by the artist Ṣàká.

The Orò Grove is separated from the premises of Ògbóni by a path which belongs to the teak plantation but is also used by visitors to reach Ọjà Ontótóo, without intruding into Ilédì Ontótóo. Orò and Ògbóni are closely linked in ritual. This is why the walls are adorned together, as one work of Sacred Art, with representations of the Egúngún, sacred masks, by the artist Òjèwálé Amọo, the first Òṣogbo person to produce New Sacred Art.


Facing Igbó Orò across the highway are the premises of Ọbàtálá (Òrìṣàálá, “Òrìṣà of White Cloth” or Òrìṣànlá, “The Great Òrìṣà”), whose buildings house symbols of some of the “white gods”, a multi-branched cult complex of enduringly creative sacred-force impersonations. This building is taller on its left wing and deeply sculptured on the front is the shrine of Òrìṣà Ajagẹmọ. It is named Ayé Dákun Yípadà “World, I beg you to reconsider your ways”. The artworks represents the embrace of Ọbàtálá and Ṣàngó, a meta-psychically and contradictory double spiral of antipodal intellectual forces from different Òrìṣà hierarchies can be seen inside the shrine. The shrine’s steep, winding staircase resembles the inner column of the shell of ìgbín, the big, edible snail and symbolically correlates with the Baroque Mariolatry, the ritual representation of the Mother-of-God. Ìgbín is Ọbàtálá’s ritual food through offerings and is one of his organic instruments of creation.

Inside the middle tract, secured in the ground behind fencers, are buried magic-mystic emanating objects of Òrìṣà Olúfọn and Òrìṣà Ògìnyọ́n, two eminent branches of the Ọbàtálá religion. A bending passage leads from here to Ayé Dákun Yípadà and to the base of the winding stairs. This long, half-lit room and its furniture represent the floric aspect of Ẹgbẹ́, the heavenly complex of angelic soul-particles from whence our souls come like bees from a hive. Where that room empties out onto the base of the stairs is the altar of Ọya, representing the dark heaviness of the spiral thunderclouds from whose inner magic cauldron her husband Ṣàngó takes the flash of lightning (which is his emblem, not hers). At the top of the stairs is Ato Orí, a meditation chamber dedicated to Orí, Olódùmarè’s meta-intellect.

Flanking the anterior-room of the Ọbàtálá altars and either through the right or the left hand wings, lead passages, towards the actual Alájere premises and shrine. This building is a dwelling place, which the god and occasionally his priests, humans and snakes, may take physically as an abode and dwelling place, finding furniture, such as the bed and cupboard sculptured artistically from clay ready for their use. The front of the building is sculptured with thorny creepers, sacred to the god for their psychodynamic qualities. Alájere’s living quarters are furnished with an earthen bed, shelf and cupboard in the inner room and a floral altar whose abrupt position shockingly near the entrance represents the god’s pubescent unpredictability. Outside, between sculptures representing elements of Alájere’s myth, a path leads away to the god’s meditation sites. Where the path bends to the right towards Àwọ̀wọ̀, there stands a statue of Ọbàtálá gesturing atonement and welcome to Alájere, his ideational son. Alájere, arrived from the outer spaces of the universe into Ọbàtálá’s meta-psychic proximity carried in a sash of ọ̀já àkókò (Sanseviera Liberica) by Naná Buùkún (Ṣọ̀npọ̀nná’s “aunt”).

On this bend, the path is crossed by two scissor-like pythons, who probe the purity of one’s intentions. (Symbolic reality is passive, so the truth of this statement is relative.)

The height of the Àwọ̀wọ̀-precipice is flanked by two statues of Alájere, as unlike in character as the different sides of his nature. Here, on the brink, he dances lyrically for Ọ̀sun, who as the river silently flows by far below. There he jumps over the cliff. This death-life, life-death motion represents the flow back and forth into the universe from where he comes and to where he goes impersonating the to the Yorùbá typical ambivalence of sacred force as such.

The visitor may now be guided back across the road to the premises of Ilédì Ontótóo the club house and ritual site of the earth cult, the Ògbóni “secret society”. Visitors are refrained from entering (with or without a guide), but only as far as the first room of the right-hand entrance.

The totality of Ilédì Ontótóo and especially its roofs, represent three pre-historic (or pre-genetic) lizards and one toad. The leftmost wing with the deeply sculptured front wall is the intensely tabooed altar room. Such taboos do not primarily hide material riches or curiosities, but are established for the hygiene of emanations. The visitor is therefore not missing anything by leaving it alone. Even a glimpse over the walls is felt to be an intrusion and a priest, discovering such impertinence, may become rude.

From the room into which one enters, one can see over the carved gate, a long, wide hall with traditionally painted walls. It bears repeating that visitors are admitted to the Ògbóni area only with a guide or as our personal guest, accompanied by one of us


We may leave the Ilédì premises by the back road, although it is not to be entered from there. Along the forest path, we next reach a flat rock, Ọjà Ontótóo. Ọjà means “market” and in the present-day language this has the same implications as in Western languages. Less than 25 years ago, however, every market was a complex ritual situation and the act of buying and selling was just one part of a wider range of outdoor ritual procedures, all of them sacred as spiritual-material interchanges. Ọjà Ontótóo is a market for gods, subterranean and supernatural beings, angels and clairvoyant humans, i.e. those humans who “see” gods and spirits. It is an amphitheatre where earthly and heavenly beings are actors and audience combined. The holes in the rock floor are remnants of a prehistoric time before geologic upheavals raised the riverbed (seafloor). Later on, these whirlpool pans were used for grinding raw iron before melting.


It is from Ọjà that Tìmẹhìn, the subsequently apotheosized hunter and Ọjà’s mystic discoverer, first heard the sound of the Ọ̀ṣun River. A path (sometimes closed to the public) leads from there to the river shrine and altar of Ọ̀ṣun Láọkan. The riverbank both upstream and downstream of this shrine are presently closed to the public, the visitor will return along the same path back to Ọjà and along the road which circumvents the Ògbóni premises, back to the highway.

The highway descends past a small group of cement figures representing Ògún. These were the first work of the artist Adébísí Àkànjí. Then a small shrine and a big arch mark the place where the annual Ọ̀ṣun procession branches towards its final goal. The continuation of the Àwọ̀wọ̀-precipice is Arugbá’s own path, but the crowd must continue on the main road under the big arch.


Arugbá (aru-igbá) means “carrier of the calabash” containing sacred symbols which, “reloaded” on that day with Ọ̀sun’s emanations, can physically represent the goddess for another ritual year. Her path leads through the small but intensely form-intent Ilé Iyemòwó. This shrine represents birth into another dimension of reality. Only deeply initiated priests protectively accompany Arugbá on this, her exacting errand into the spiritual realms of Omi, the “Waters of Life”, i.e. into the parallactic instant, when physicality and metaphysicality coincide, in which the gods procreate physical offspring. (It is for offspring that most of the pilgrims come, on that day of sacred fecundities.)

Arugbá next approaches Idí Irókò, where annually the primary man-river encounter must happen again, Arugbá’s mind is ecstasized by ancient incantantory songs, as she “descends” into the depths of Ọ̀sun’s metaphysical truth forms, whose paragon she is on that day. Whip-bearers accompany her, not only whipping the air for the sake of transcendental fecundities (a world-wide archaic practice), but also, if necessary, to fend off persistent non-initiate intruders into this vulnerable ritual privacy.
The crowd, which numbers many thousands, proceeds under the arch, which represents – oddly enough – a flying, giant tortoise. The tortoise symbolizes the heaviness of matter, and its taking to the air evokes a turning point in one’s rational habits. For here, other laws prevail.

Arugbá’s path then rejoins the public way. Protected from view by her entourage, she enters the shrine, where she will rest until they all return. Meanwhile, her mind is with Ọ̀sun, while Iyá Ọ̀sun and other priests receive food offerings and kola nuts, heaping all of them up on to an enormous tray. In the evening, the river will be fed from this tray. That is when, to their spiritually opened gaze, the goddess and her messenger, Ìkódí, will appear and bless them. (To the metaphysically dull eye of the merely curious and to the ever-ready-for-the-kill camera, this sight remains blank.) After the river has been fed and everyone has gone home, the river and its precincts are drawn once again into reverie and silence.

The main shrine is ancient, older than the town of Òṣogbo (which is not older than 400 years, according to Chief Olúgunna’s research). The outer shrine walls and central altar room were almost intact when the late Iyá Ọ̀sun appealed to us worshipper-artists who, at the time, were rebuilding Idí Bàbá. Termites had invaded the shrine, eagerly devouring the altar, walls, pillars and roof. We responded destroying the termites and repairing damage. Our minds, inspired by our own annual ceremony, spiritually urged some of us to create art on the repaired walls. This was the beginning of the New Sacred Art.

The outer portico’s clay walls were still standing in almost their original condition, very solid from endless wetting and patting by the hands of the worshipper-builders: an antiquity par excellence with which we would not tamper. But the original veranda posts had fallen prey to the excesses of our climate. We could not repair them, so we created them anew.

Evolution is a fact, not to be hailed, not to be regretted. Òrìṣà no matter how intensely harassed, cannot but be intensely alive. Alive, too, are our correlated talents. The living gods and our living art are, both, modern. Repetition of the past cannot but be an absurdity.

The ritual function of our architecture is anthropomorphic, floral and faunal, and is the outcome of our art’s submission to nature’s perfection. Gods are nature’s sublimest manifestation. We would never impose on it. Admiration helps us to underline it.

The statue where the river reaches Ojúbọ Òṣogbo is from the hand of Ṣàká. It is a reverent replacement for one which fell when its author, Òjèwálé Amọo, violated one of the goddess’ taboos. The stone sculpture and ritual objects near the pind do not belong to Ọ̀sun, but to Òkè, whose sanctuary on Òkè Ọbatedo was destroyed.

Other sculptures occupy the places where the priests of various gods sit on the day of the Ọ̀sun river procession. On that day, all the Òrìṣà are represented with drum orchestras, which resound together with a multitude of soundborn emanations and rhythms, all drummed-out praises of the gods, one big symphony in praise of inspired life.

Visitors to the premises and river shrines of Ojúbọ Òṣogbo as well as to the Ọ̀sun shrine at Atáọja’s palace (which is Iyá-Ọ̀sun’s residence) are hereby informed that, traditionally, it is their due to give a decent amount of money to the priests. They have no other income than the fees which they receive as indispensable intermediaries for the supplicant who seeks the goddess’ favours. This is a fact of the culture on whose ground the visitor stands.

Visitor should give politely and according to their ability. This act can, after all, be understood as compensation for the intrusion of an outsider.


On Yoruba ritual grounds, including Ojúbọ Òṣogbo, grows Peregun (Dracanea Fragrans), a short, treelike plant with sword shaped leaves. The stems are to be cut short annually – according to the traditional hygiene of the sacred – so as to prevent their sudden outbursts into blossoms, which appear overnight, without warning, on armlong branches. An oversight in pruning is understood to be catastrophic, as from these explosive blossoms would emanate swarms of Ṣọ̀npọ̀nná’s most horrible helpers.

Palm fronds, split along mid-rib and hung up curtain-like, indicate “Stop! Ritual in progress!” to those who are not involved.

Exiting Ojúbọ Òṣogbo through gateways, the visitor may turn to the left along the small road to the “old” suspension bridge, brainchild of the Welsh District Officer in colonial times. In the open space by the entrance to Ojúbọ Òṣogbo stand two (formerly three) giant tree, which jointly impersonate one of Osun’s epiphanies, Olọ́mọ́yọ́yọ́, “The One with Many Children”. There existed one sacred carving which represented Olọ́mọ́yọ́yọ́ playing ayo (note: a Yorùbá game played on a wooden board) with Èṣù. When this was stolen, together with several other ancient images, the third tree withered within four days to such an extent that it had to be cut down as a danger to the approaching annual procession. Ṣàká’s beautiful cement work was created on top of the stump cross-section, but as the wood decayed this base was replaced by stone and cement.

Before, when coming to the suspension bridge, one can see the entrances to the Igbó’fá, the new Ifá Grove. To achieve ritual force accumulation it is not open to the public. The ancient Ifá forest altar is still frequented by the oracle priests, despite its desperate situation of progressing destruction.


Returning to the highway, the visitor turns left. A short walk do drive will bring him to Ẹbu Iyá Mọòpó (ẹbu means potterfield). This goddess is the patroness of all women’s occupations including childbirth. Iyá Mọòpó is, more than anything, a potterwoman and – since the creative artist and his work are essentially one – she IS the pot. To put it another way, she is the space in the pot, which defines the pot (a concept reminiscent of the ancient Chinese Tao Te Ching).


As one enters the ẹbu under the body of the chameleon (an animal which plays an important part in the creation myth), the statue of Iyá Mọòpó is back to the right. This statue is really a shrine which houses, fenced away in an inconspicuous place, the magically-mystically potent symbols of the goddess. The inside, still under construction, is supported by a flight of winding stairs, the spiritual pillar at the center of creation. It is mystic countermovement to the spiral in Òrìṣà Ajagẹmọ’s Ayé Dákun Yípadà shrine.

Iyá Mọòpó is traditionally represented (as a bronze altarpiece) with two children, one head-up on her breast, one on her back, head-down. In the context of natural inspiration, we have taken the liberty of representing her children – still in accord with symbolism – as atíálá-atíòrò (allied hornbill, Lophoceros Semifasciatus), the sacred bird-epiphany of Ọbàtálá. The goddess stretches out three pairs of arms. She gestures blessings, advice and regrets. She herself has wings: she represents the ethereal dimension of matter.

The tall slender statue is Ẹ̀là. An intensely sacred principle in the Ifá oracle cult, he represents the dynamism of the god’s pubescence. Important Ifá ritual is opened with the request: Ẹ̀là rọ̀, “Ẹ̀là relent”. The third statue also represents the youthful force of a god: Alájere, who is the adolescent Ṣọ̀npọ̀nná. The three is Ṣọ̀npọ̀nná’s sacred number symbolism, and is also the number of transubstantiation in Ògbóni.

On all these constructions, as well on Ontótóo with the Ọbàtálá shrines and the Ògbóni club-house, the most sensitive first assistant was Adébísí Akànjí, who is an excellent artist in his own right, working with cement screens and batiks. In the work of these years he was the most empathic and gifted helper. Nowadays, Susanne Wenger works alone on her monumental art, without assistants except for constructing foundations and scaffolding.
As the works on the riverbanks behind Ẹbu Iyá Mọòpó are still in progress, the paths there are presently closed to the public.


The visitor may ask the guide to bring him to Ọ̀sun Búsanyìn, where on a now rather small ground a glorious building impersonates the goddess in her proximity to Orí, Olódùmarè’s paramount meta-intellect. This area is nowadays, on account of the townships rapidly increasing building activities, isolated – excepting a stripe of protected riverbank – from the totalitarity of Ọ̀sun’s Sacred Groves. (It is however included into the official survey plan.) Ọ̀sun Búsanyìn is well frequented by her ritual offspring – for ritual baths and drinking of its water (àgbo).

That organic and inorganic dirt (which, unfortunately, is Ọ̀sun’s modern acquisition in that now urban area) does not interfere with her sacredness and healing-propensities (reminiscent at the ritual immersions in the sacred river of Benares) as a token of Ọ̀sun’s metaphysical interaction with the god Ṣọ̀npọ̀nná’s homeopathic healing properties.


That organic and inorganic dirt (which, unfortunately, is Ọ̀sun’s modern acquisition in that now urban area) does not interfere with her sacredness and healing-propensities (reminiscent at the ritual immersions in the sacred river of Benares) as a token of Ọ̀sun’s metaphysical interaction with the god Ṣọ̀npọ̀nná’s homeopathic healing properties.



Links:

Àdùnní Olórìṣà Trust, Lagos, Nigeria

Susanne Wenger Foundation, Krems, Austria

Victor Manfredi

Dunja Herzog



Resources:

Augustine Merzeder (ed.): Susanne Wenger. The Sacred Groves of Oshogbo. Kontrapunkt Verlag für Wissenswertes, Vienna, 1990. (88 pages, contains lots of images printed in color and additional texts by Wenger about the Sacred Art movement, the artists, the town and various Òrìṣà, Yorùbá words are written with dotted letters and diacritic marks.)

Susanne Wenger. The Sacred Groves of Osogbo. Excerpt from the Book. (20 pages, text only, printed and published by Wenger in Nigeria around mid to late 1990s, the last page says “We apologize for omission of tonemarks”.)

Victor Manfredi (ed.): The Ọ̀sun Groves of Òṣogbo (A handbook for visitors) by Susanne Wenger. (This is from 1988 and can be found as a pdf to download on the website  of Victor Manfredi. He edited the text and the Yorùbá words for Susanne Wenger.)


YORÙBÁ DICTIONARIES
MAY 15, 2018
My ideal Yorùbá dictionary has one section on Yorùbá-English and another one on English-Yorùbá. The book is easy to read and has a well-structured layout that gives me an orientation on the page as soon as I open it. I can quickly find the word I am looking for. The alphabetical index on top of the page helps me browsing through the book. The font type and its size is well-chosen. This saves space, paper and weight, important when carrying it around on a journey or to my classes. The paper is thin and light-weight, but the book is well-bound. The grammatical index is reduced to the minimum of what’s necessary for understanding, without getting lost in comparative linguistic studies. For grammar I have other books. Yorùbá traditional religion, Òrìṣà and their terminology are described without positive or negative connotations and do not get mixed with terms of the diaspora. Are you also searching for this Yorùbá dictionary?

I am afraid this perfect Yorùbá dictionary has not yet been written. Several dictionaries exist, here’s a review of the ones I know and I am working with. Yorùbá is one of Africa’s most studied languages. Let’s have a look on the most important Yorùbá dictionaries, from the simple perspective of a Yorùbá language student. I am comparing “four magic words” throughout the review from all these books: Òrìṣà, Orò, Èṣù and àróbọ̀. Their interpretation tells us a lot about Yorùbá dictionaries.

R.C.Abraham: Dictionary of Modern Yoruba, University of London Press Ltd, 1958. Reprinted 1970, 1973.

This Yorùbá-English dictionary – there’s no English-Yorùbá section included – is hard to find and expensive. I got mine from an online second-hand bookstore and spent 250 dollars on it, by far the cheapest offer I could find. The book is written by linguist Abraham who published on various African languages. This work was funded by the Nigerian government. It is not just an ordinary dictionary, as it includes idioms, phrases, proverbs and riddles. Additionally it explains historical, ethnological and religious facts of the Yorùbá people. It has a huge section on the theory of tones, explaining every small detail from static or gliding tones to the change of tone before objects and so-called magnetised tones. All sounds are described precisely in a linguistic study, from nasalized vowels and palatalisation to syllabic sounds and vowel harmonies. A section on grammar and tenses completes the theory before the actual pages of the dictionary start.

The way how Abraham writes the tone-marks is not today’s version, so you have to do some work transferring the words into a more modern layout. The tones are very accurate and his work set the Yorùbá standard, for me this is still the best dictionary available today, worth its money. E.g. Ṣàngó is written Ṣọ̀ngo´- Abraham places the high tone mark after the last vowel, because the last o is a gliding sound from mid to high tone, and not a static high tone. Today this does not matter anymore it seems. Frequently a/ọ  are alternately used like in the olden days and consequently all nasal –an sounds he writes as -ọn  throughout the book, as they are pronounced equally.

Left a contemporary dictionary, middle Fakinlede, right Abraham. See how these books deal with the space on the pages and the art of typography.

Unfortunately the dictionary is really complicated to read with lots of abbreviations and brackets used. Looking up words can get labor-intense and confusing. Let’s have a look onto one entry (which today would be spelled rán): rọ́n A. sent x (1) (a)(i) ó ~ mi níbẹ̀= ó ~ mi síbẹ̀ he sent me there (=fiṣe (o) ).(ii) ó fà lọ síbi tí mo rọ́n he went at a snail’s pace to where I sent him. (2) (a) ó rọ́nwe´sí mi he sent a letter to me […] Abraham categorizes more than one meaning of a word like this: point + Arabic numeral, subpoint + letter, subpoint of the subpoint + Roman numeral. I still have no idea what the A., the x or the (=fiṣe (o) ) in brackets stand for in this entry. For sure it is explained somewhere, but getting through all these linguistic explanations in the book would keep me busy for two days. Abraham gives not just a translation of the verb into English, but also a complete sentence, what is very useful. Otherwise in this case you would not know that a pronoun should be used with rọ́n. I want to look up a word with the purpose of learning Yorùbá and not to write my PhD in linguistic studies. The text of the entire book is printed very small and hardly readable. No bold letters are used for the Yorùbá words, there’s no alphabetical index, what would at least help getting some orientation browsing through the pages.

If you look up e.g. the word ejò, which simply means snake, you will get one and a half pages of descriptions of various types of snakes and information like […] the underpart of the neck and front part of the body usually has salmon-pink cross-bars alternating with black […] In some cases the vipers instead of laying eggs like other snakes, hatch out the young inside the body and bring them out alive […]. I guess in 1958 this kind of information might have been interesting for someone bitten by a snake and looking up the word ejò, finding a short 'wikipedia on Nigerian snakes' chapter included. Today this does not make any sense in a dictionary. The book could be shortened a lot. The same applies to many other entries, like the one on Ifá which spreads over three pages and tells the reader not just that Ifá is the god of divination but also lists proverbs, titles of priests, Ifá paraphernalia, describes how palm kernels are manipulated by the babaláwo, gives the sixteen main odù names and even explains kola nut divination and its basic signs! I mean this is great information, but that’s too much for a dictionary and too less for a study on Ifá. And if I want to know a term from kola nut divination, I might look up the entry on obì, but not the one on Ifá.

I will compare four entries in all the dictionaries, it gives interesting insights on the writer’s perspective. So what about the author’s opinion about traditional Yorùbá belief? Wicked, neutral, or in favor of? Abraham says: òrìṣà=òòṣà (1) (a) any Yorùbá deity apart from Ọlọ́run (x Ọbàta´lá 1(b): 1(f) : Odùduwà : Ṣọ̀ngo´ : Ògun´etc.) (b) A person’s òrìṣà is either inherited within his ìdi´lé, or chosen for him by Ifá when he or she was a baby. (c) v orúkọ 14b. (d) tó ~ v tó C. […] This is just the first paragraph, the entry on the word òrìṣà has the length of one complete page. What follows in the next paragraph is a description of Cuban Orishas cited from W.R. Bascom 'The Yoruba in Cuba', even talking about St.Lazarus, the Cuban Catholic Saint associated with Babalú-Ayé. He continues with some proverbs and a description of how various òrìṣà are categorized within the city of Ifẹ̀. Random superficial information compiled from many books I guess. It is very strange to me that he mentions details on Cuban Orisha worship in a book about Yorùbá language in Nigeria. This shows again how influential the literature on diaspora Orisha is on the academic level in Nigeria and how scholars from abroad have shaped t

Yiwola Awoyale: Global Yoruba Lexical Database v. 1.0, Linguistic Data Consortium (LDC). Online.

This electronic database is the best contemporary Yorùbá dictionary that exists today, with over 140.000 words in Yorùbá-English and 226.000 words in English-Yorùbá! It includes around 8.000 Cuban Lukumí terms and more from other areas of the Yorùbá diaspora. Unfortunately, web access is provided only through subscriptions (800$). Entries include phrases as an example of the term's correct use, proverbs and praise poetry. This lexicographical heritage was compiled by Professor Yíwọlá Awóyalé, building on the encyclopedic works of Abraham, Adéoyè and Délánọ̀ and on comprehensive grammars of the language produced at the Nigerian universities of Ìbàdàn, Ifẹ̀ and Ìlọrin well into the 1980's.

Let’s have a look at the four magic words. I can only give brief summaries of Awoyale’s dictionary entries, they are too long to quote! Òrìṣà is described as (1) divinity or deity in Yoruba pantheon other than the Almighty God and (2) deified ancestor, saint. He further mentions the word’s short version òòṣà. Following are expressions like ìsakọni-òrìṣà (<ì-sọ-akọ-ẹni-dì-òrìṣà) (1) hero worshipping (2) deification, abọ̀rìṣà (<a-bọ-òrìṣà) òrìṣà worshipper and olórìṣà (<o-ní-òrìṣà) òrìṣà priest or priestess, etc. Also mentioned are òrìṣà-òkè with a list of places where this hill/mountain divinity is worshipped, òrìṣà-oko as a female òrìṣà believed to be the divinty of agriculture and is worshipped mainly by women, òrìṣà-òkò as another name for Ọbàtálá, divinity of creation, in Òkò town of Ọ̀yọ́ State of Nigeria, òrìṣà-ọba as an òrìṣà worshipped in Oǹdó town of Oǹdó State, òrìṣàálá as Ọbàtálá, the deity of creation, another name òrìṣà- ńlá, etc. Personal names are listed, like Òrìṣájìmí, òrìṣà divinity has forgiven me, òrìṣà-á-jì-mí, Rìṣájìmí, Jìmí, Òrìṣàjìnmí. Plus around fourty proverbs, on individual deities or in general about òrìṣà, and many lines of praise poetry! An incredible source, very interesting for the Yorùbá student is that he explains stems and composition of words when necessary.


Second entry to compare is Orò (1) primordial divinity worshipped mainly among the Ẹ̀gbá and Ìjẹ́bú of Ògùn State and the Àwórì of Lagos State of Nigeria, women are forbidden to come face to face with this òrìṣà. Ten proverbs about Orò follow this description. (2) festival that involves a rite or ritual worship, plus a few sentences where this word is being used as an example.

Awoyale’s entry on Èṣù is interesting. He immediately mentions Ẹlẹ́gbárá as another name and continues (1) Yoruba divinity believed to epitomize the duality of goodness and malevolence. He is often portrayed as a force to be avoided, hence words with serious negative connotation are used to describe him. He is believed to be the sole agent for all the other divinities. He is not the equivalent of Satan or Lucifer in the Holy Bible, who is portrayed as the supreme malevolence force. (2) Powerful deity believed to be the police between the numerous òrìṣà and human beings. He is worshipped by many devotees […] Various orìkí are listed and translated, from Látopa Èṣù kẹ-n-kẹ to Èṣù elépolẹ́nu and many lines of praise poetry! Awoyale leaves no doubt, Èṣù is not the devil, like in so many other dictionaries!

Finally, àróbọ̀ (1) doing trade like a middleman (fact or act of) (2) trade being done like a middleman (3) doing of trading like a middleman (instance of) (4) tough trading transactions. It follows a description of the term aláròóbọ̀. Very detailed! Compare Awoyale’s entries to the rest of the dictionaries. You won’t find another one with such a precise information. This also the advantage of an electronical database, there’s enough space and many ways to search for a word – or a proverb, or a personal name, etc. Very recommended, if you can get access to it.

Link


A Dictionary of the Yoruba Language, Oxford University Press, London, Ibadan, 8th impression, 1962
A Dictionary of the Yorùbá Language, University Press PLC, Ibadan, 2002

This is the most widespread Yorùbá dictionary, several reprints by different publishers exist. You can get the old versions very cheap in second-hand bookstores. It is a reprint from a dictionary published by the Church Missionary Society Bookshop of Lagos in 1913. Today it is still printed (in Malaysia) by University Press Ibadan and sold for a very affordable price in Nigeria, I have seen it in University bookshops. Guess what the original publishers’ opinion was on traditional Yorùbá religion?

The book is divided equally into two sections, English-Yorùbá and Yorùbá-English. There is no section on grammar, tones or tenses, just one page on how to pronounce the vowels and certain letters. You open up the book and it starts with the letter A, great after Abraham, here I have the feeling that I am dealing with a real dictionary. Although the book is so old, it has a good layout design and a nice typography. Yorùbá words are indexed in bold letters, a hanging indent gives a clear structure, you quickly find what you are searching for. Its size is very handy, it fits into a pocket and is not heavy at all. But...

Forget about the tone marks in this book, they are not at all according to the modern Yorùbá standard. E.g. when we look at the word òrìṣà, which usually is written and spoken with three low tones (low-low-low). Here it is written òriṣa (low-mid-mid) with the given meaning: an object of worship, idol. We quickly look up the other expression I want to compare in all the dictionaries, orò, here gets translated as bullroarer, bull-whizzer. So there’s no word on the Orisha, but instead the Orisha’s sounding instrument is mentioned (which would correctly be called iṣẹ́ Orò). As an Orisha is only an object of worship according to this dictionary it makes sense mentioning only the bullroarer involved in his cult. Èṣu, here with low-mid tone, is translated as we expect it to be done by the Church Missionary Society, as devil, Satan, demon, fiend. The word aróbọ̀, written here as àróbọ̀ is translated as prevarication or artful way of dealing one with another, what is already another description than doing business as a middleman.

The book includes vowels which have a tilde, a small grapheme that looks like a wave, above them. This is used for gliding sounds, but I am not sure in what way exactly, because a tilde goes up, down and up again. Does ã now mean áaà, àá, áà, àa or aá? I have no idea. Also some words like ayé, meaning world, are written aiyé. The ai is an old form of spelling that is not in use anymore today as it makes no difference in pronunciation.

The book was always very useful to me in my Yorùbá classes. I used to work with old copies of educational books and books about Yorùbá culture, most of them published in the 1960s in Nigeria for (primary) school. Beautiful books, by the way, with great artwork and illustrations. Their authors might have had exactly this dictionary as a resource. Although compiled from a Christian perspective this dictionary has many adjectives, verbs and nouns that are connected to the traditional Yorùbá way of life and culture. For someone like me, who is interested in 'deep Yorùbá' like Ifá verses, this is interesting. Many words I think are hardly in use anymore or understood by e.g. a young and modern Yorùbá from Lagos. Imagine a dictionary written in your mother tongue in 1913, for me this would be the language my great-grandfather has spoken. An example Titilayo Oyinbo once mentioned, with this dictionary you might get into dialogues like this one with young Yorùbá people: 'Ẹ jọ̀ọ́, ṣí fèrèsé!' ­– 'Á-a! Kíni itúmọ̀ fèrèsé?' – 'Window'!


I also bought the newer version of this book from the University Press of Ibadan published in 2002, you can see the new cover above on the image. The Amazon advertising text says this version has been 'revised and enlarged considerably'. I thought they would at least have corrected the tone-marks, but I was disappointed. It is a re-print from the original book, same layout, nothing has changed. Òriṣa (low-mid-mid) still is an idol, no word for computer or internet was added. I own the version from 2002, I am not sure if there is a newer version already available, I guess not. So here Yorùbá in Nigeria stays on the standard from 1913.


Kayode J. Fakinlede: Yoruba. Modern Practical Dictionary. Yoruba-English. English-Yoruba. Hippocrene Books, Inc. New York, 2003. Fourth printing 2011.

As far as I know this is the latest Yorùbá dictionary that was published. Fakinlede also published a very good Beginner's Yorùbá course that I reviewed in my blog post on Yorùbá courses. This dictionary is recommended by language schools, as it was to me in New York by the Yorùbá Cultural Institute. It is heavy in weight and has impressive 700 pages - because it lacks a good dictionary layout. It is too heavy for carrying it around a lot. It is printed in huge letters as one list and additionally lots of space on the pages around the text stays blank (see the picture above where I compare three pages of dictionaries), the paper is also heavy for a dictionary. A good graphic designer versed in typography could reduce it by half I guess and make it a really cool and handy book. By the way, talking about typography: this book has an issue a Yorùbá dictionary really should not have. The author, or the graphic designer, used a font, a typeface, which does not feature dotted vowels. I see this often when people try to write in Yorùbá on their home computer. What your computer program likely does, without asking you, is following: dotted vowels are simply replaced in another font (most likely Arial Unicode). You can see it in the image below, this happened to all the letters ọ, ẹ and ṣ. You can see that they do not fit into the chosen typeface. The spacing is different, one word looks like divided into two parts, or letters appear too bold or too light-weight. In this case a classical Book Antiqua font gets combined with letters from a font called Sans Serif, in typography this is like mixing oil and water.

All dotted vowels are written in a Sans Serif font, the rest is a Book Antiqua.

But let’s get to the content. The spelling of tone marks is correct and up to date, this is the modern standard of today. We look up the three chosen magic words. Browsing through the book, printed in large size with a good index, we quickly find the first explanation: Òrìṣà, any Yoruba deity. The word is written with a capital O, as I prefer to write it, good point, shows respect for the traditional believers. Òrìṣà Orò, on the other hand, is not mentioned at all, just the other similar word orò, meaning festival, habit. Strange, excluding a cult that is still very much alive in many Yorùbá towns and the author for sure was cross-checking with the older Yorùbá dictionaries that all mention Orò. If I am learning Yorùbá the traditional cultural expressions should be included, I believe. We browse to Èṣù, again capital E: devil; bad influence. It seems like it will take some more time until the dictionaries won’t mention Èṣù as Satan any longer. This mistranslation by Crowther for his Yorùbá bible is not easy to get out of the heads of the people. Maybe we should introduce Yemọja for the Virgin Mary? Fakinlede writes àróbọ̀ with tone-marks like in the dictionary from the Christ Missionary Society, but translates it in the words of Abraham, as doing business as a middleman.

The foreword mentions the author of this book in his profession as a research scientist. The preface tells us about the first-time inclusion of complex scientific and mathematical terms into a Yorùbá dictionary. This book has translations like: plasmalemma, iwọ̀ọ pádi; odontectomy, ehin yíyọkúrò; lymphatic system, ètò iṣọ̀n omi-ara; macrocephaly, orí nlá; intumescent, wíwú; Fahrenheit, ìdíwọ̀n ìgbónáa ti Farín-áiti; protozoan, ẹranko onípádíkan, etc. I am really curious who is using these expressions. The international language of science is English, and its terminology is based on Latin and Greek words. Even here in German speaking countries, if you want to do research, there’s only one language that counts. What’s the use of inventing artificial Yorùbá termini, that translate diseases like macrocephaly as 'big head‘? It is a description of a symptom, but not the term macrocephaly and its medical discourse. At the same time the dictionary is lacking traditional terms like Òrìṣà Orò. Is the dictionary intended for medical doctors, who can now tell their malaria patients that they have ẹranko onípádíkan in their veins? Is there scientific research in Nigeria, and if yes, (why) is it done in Yorùbá language? Is it part of a political movement to get rid of the colonizer’s language? From the perspective of someone interested into Yorùbá culture, not Yorùbá medical or mathematical science, this dictionary could be improved.

But Fakinlede's book is the only good contemporary modern standard Yorùbá dictionary available on the market today, as far as I know. All the older ones you can only find in second-hand bookshops or directly in Nigeria. I am also using Fakinlede a lot at home, usually it is the first choice when I am looking up some common contemporary verbs, nouns or daily expressions. It has the correct spelling and tone-marks, but it is not perfect.

Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún: yorubaword.com/oroyoruba.com. Online.

It is not yet working (by April 2018), but you can already bookmark it in your browser. Meanwhile read the author’s statement about the project on his blog! It will be a dictionary of Yorùbá that is free, open, accessible, comprehensive, and monolingual. While the definition of the words will have English translations present, it won’t be its primary feature. Its focus will be in defining words in Yorùbá for speakers and learners of the language. It will also be multimedia, with a chance to embed photographs, audios, and videos.

Link
Ọlabiyi Babalọla Yai: Yoruba-English, English-Yoruba Concise Dictionary, Hippocrene Books, New York, 1996.

Another Yorùbá book from the publishing house Hippocrene books, but this time the dotted vowels are printed in the same font as the rest of the publication. The graphic design could be improved. The handy book is made for travelers, it fits really into every small pocket. Most words are very briefly translated into one single word, this saves a lot of space. Yorùbá words come with an 'English pronunciation' in brackets, guess this is intended for people who do not speak Yorùbá at all. This information is useless in my opinion, as the tonemarks are still missing in this 'English version' and it does not even come close to the original Yorùbá, e.g. Òṣùmarè comes with the information (oshoomanray). I have doubts that Yorùbá people would understand me, asking around for Orisha Oshoomanray. Especially if it is really urgent and you are looking for the (shalaoonga) you might have a problem. Everyone who has this dictionary in his or her pocket knows how to pronounce Yorùbá, all the tonemarks are written in this book. Yai translates Orìṣà, Òrìṣànlá, Òòṣàálá (oreesha, oreeshaoonla, o-oshaala) as primordial deity, god of creation, obviously mixing up Ọbàtálá’s oríkì with the general word òrìṣà. He also writes orìṣà  (mid-low-low), maybe this is a spelling mistake and not intended. Èṣù he lists in two variants, as Èṣu  (low-mid) and Èṣù (low-low) translating it as (ayshoo) messenger god. Òrìṣà Orò is not mentioned and àróbọ̀ (arobaw) is translated as middleman business  and petty trade, bringing together Crowther’s and Abraham’s translations and the tones (low-high-low) from the Church Missionary Society. It is a handy book, good for travels.

Chief/Ms FAMA Àìná Adéwalé-Somadhi: FAMA’s Èdè Awo Òrìṣà Yorùbá Dictionary (Revised and Expanded Edition), Ilé Ọ̀rúnmìlà Communications, San Bernardino, CA, 1996, 2nd publication 2001.

This book is exactly what the title says, in this sense it can be recommended for this purpose. It has only one section, Yorùbá into English, not the other way round. But this is what it is intended to be: giving the Yorùbá student, or the Òrìṣà/Ifá student a book to work with and a basic orientation. It has translations for lots of oríkì, priest’s titles, all the 256 Odù and many verbs and expressions that have to do with Òrìṣà worship. It includes also a basic Yorùbá vocabulary, like numerals, common verbs, adjectives, etc., but the main focus is on Òrìṣà termini. It includes some re-translations from Lukumí, Cuban expressions, into proper Yorùbá or makes it clear where the difference lies, e.g. in the term àdìmú.

The layout and the index is good, you quickly find the words you are looking for, the font type is featuring dotted vowels, not like Fakinlede above. A cheap adhesive binding will lead to many lose pages soon. This is not good for a dictionary, which will be opened and closed thousands of time. I would wish for a hardcover version, thread-stitched, more expensive but durable, and a cheap light-weight paperback edition.

The definitions of the three magic words are: Òrìṣà, n. some of the Irúnmọlẹ̀ that distinguished themselves while on earth. They include Gods like Èṣù, Ọ̀rúnmìlà, Ọ̀ṣun, Ṣàngó, Ògún, Ọbàtálá etc.  Nice one. Orò, an Òrìṣà. Short, but correct. Ẹ̀ṣù, God of justice. ~alájé money drawing Ẹ̀ṣù; ~aṣẹ́ta spell repellent Ẹ̀ṣù […] She continues with various types of Ẹ̀ṣù. First time Satan or the devil are not mentioned here. Of course, we are expecting this book to be written from the perspective of a traditional believer, and she clearly is aware of this discourse.

The word àróbọ̀ is translated by Chief FAMA as going back and forth asking for discount. This adds to the translation as prevarication or artful way of dealing one with another and doing business as a middleman. Combining all of these translation from four dictionaries I have the feeling that finally now I can understand what àróbọ̀ means and how it is used. So this example shows that as a Yorùbá student it is good to have all these dictionaries on your side. Translation varies, looking up word consumes lots of time. I hope that one day someone will sum up all these books and finally publish a good Yorùbá dictionary, that is contemporary but not forgetting about the traditional cultural expressions.

L.O.Adéwọlé: A bilingualized Dictionary of Yorùbá Monosyllabic Words, The Research in Yorùbá Language and Literature Department, Ọbáfẹ́mi Awólọwọ̀ University, Elyon Publishers, Ilé-Ifẹ̀, Second Edition 2014.

I bought this book visiting the University bookshop in Ilé-Ifẹ̀. Printed and bound in a very low quality. It will hardly be available outside of the country. I cannot compare any of my chosen words from this book, as it is only on monosyllabic words. This dictionary is a very useful resource for the Yorùbá language student, because every entry comes with lots of examples and there is a section Yorùbá-English and one on English-Yorùbá. Let’s see the entry for the word gbá (i) to fry: Ó gbá epo náà ‘He fried the red palm oil’ (ii) to kick: Ó gbá bọ́ọ̀lù ‘He kicked the ball’ (iii) to sweep: Ó gbá ilẹ̀ ‘He swept the floor’ (iv) to slap: Ó gbá mi létí ‘He slapped my ears’ (v) to run after: Ó gbá tì mí ‘He ran after me’ (vi) hit: Ó gbá mi lábàrá ‘He hit me with his hand’ (vii) smite: Àwọn orúnkún rẹ̀ n gbá ara wọn ‘His knees smote together’ (viii) struck: Ó gbá mi lágbọ̀n ‘He struck me on the chin’ (ix) box: Ó gbá mi létí ‘He boxed my ears’. Nice, isn’t it?

The font used is something like Arial Unicode, there are no problems with the dotted vowels. The dictionary lacks an alphabetical page-index but it is easy to read and you can find the words you are looking for, highlighted in bold letters, quickly. With all these examples how to practically use the words it is a good source to study and very recommended. I am not sure if this work is based on the book by Chief Isaac O. Delanọ from 1969, also published by the Institute of African Studies on the University of Ilé-Ifẹ̀ and entitled 'A dictionary of Yoruba monosyllabic words'. The publisher printed a phone number on the book cover. In case you want to order, try Naija nomba 08034019061.

It can also be downloaded online as a pdf from the University of Ilé-Ifẹ̀’s website, but only with a huge problem: the pdf lacks all the dotted vowels. It was converted into another font type, obviously one that does not feature dotted vowels, and so all this information the author painstakingly provided just got lost. Maybe this was done on purpose not to ruin the income made by selling the correct version printed in the book. Anyhow, if you want to download it for free, there is a website link below.

Link

Chief I.O. Delano: A Dictionary of Yoruba Monosyllabic Verbs, Volume I (A-L), Institute of African Studies, University of Ife, 1969.

After having read the book above from L.O.Adéwọlé I wanted to compare it with this one. There’s a huge difference, Delano’s version is very extensive. Published in 1969 its pages are written on a typewriter. It is about monosyllabic verbs only, no nouns or adjectives are included in this list. Every verb comes with its various meanings, a complete sentence in Yorùbá shows how it is used and a translation of the sentence into English is added. Delano also lists verbs based on monosyllabic word roots. E.g. dí leads to verbs like díbọ̀, díbọ́n, dídágìrì, dífá, dáfá, dígbà, dígbèsè, dìjà and many others, I cannot list them all here, but it seems to be very complete. Gbẹ́ e.g. has the meaning 1. carved: Gbẹ́nàgbẹ́nà gbẹ́ ẹ, the wood-carver carved it. 2. Cackled: Adiẹ na gbẹ́, the hen cackled. It follows a list of verbs like gbẹ́bẹ̀ (gbọ́ ẹ̀bẹ̀), Baba gbẹ́bẹ̀ ọmọ rẹ, the father listened to his child’s entreaties; Ọlọpa London ki igbẹ́bẹ̀, London police do not listen to begging (once he arrests someone), followed by a list of about 50 more gbẹ́-verbs with examples! It has no English-Yorùbá section but it is a great resource for intense Yorùbá studies. I would love to have a modern version of this book! A hidden gem.


Chief M.A.Fabunmi: Yoruba Idioms. Pilgrim Books, 1970/African Universities Press, Ibadan, 1984 (Reprint).

This is a great book that consists of a collection of Yorùbá idiomatic expressions, edited by Wande Abimbola. Phrases are deciphered, explained in Yorùbá, translated into English and an example is included. E.g. Gba omi mu – Ó tọ́ láti ronú púpọ̀ nipa; o gba wàhálà. Deserves much thought, consideration and energy. Ọ̀rọ̀ obìnrin yìí gba omi mu tí a ba fẹ́ ṣe ìrànlọ́wọ́ fún un. Or another entry: Le ìdí mọ́ - Dojú ìjà kọ; kí á fẹ́ bá ẹni tí ó kéré sí wa jà. To face in a fight. Ẹni tí a lè mú ni à á lèdí mọ́. Great resource. A very rare book that can improve your poetic and advanced Yorùbá skills a lot!


Thomas Jefferson Bowen: Grammar and Dictionary of the Yoruba Language. With an Introductory Description of the Country and People of Yoruba. Smithsonian Institution, 1858.

I mention here two more very old dictionaries, just because they are so easy to access and historically interesting. Thomas Jefferson Bowen was an American Southern Baptist missionary and arrived in Nigeria in 1850 to settle down in Ijaye. As an expert for 'black nation missions' he had also spent some months before in Brazil, preaching the gospel. Bowen established three Baptist missions in Nigeria and then returned back to the United States where he published several books on his experiences in Nigeria, like this grammar and dictionary book.

The four-word-comparison: Orisa  is translated simply as an idol, Èsu  is the devil and Satan. Oro is the god of civil government, the executive of the state deified, well done, good and short description speaking of Orò’s political power. Arobọ is translated as petty traffic.

Google digitalized the original publication of Thomas Jefferson Bowen, it can be accessed online, more than one version Is available.

Link


Rev. Samuel Crowther: A vocabulary of the Yoruba language. Together with the introductory remarks by the Rev.O.E.Vidal, Seeleys, London, 1852.

Samuel Ajayi Crowther was a freed Yorùbá slave from the region around Ọ̀yọ́. Around the age of 12 he was loaded onto a Portuguese slave ship that was eventually stopped by the British and forced to unload in Freetown, Sierra Leone. There is a big Creole Yorùbá community there up to today. He was educated by the Church Missionary Society, did groundbreaking work translating the bible into Yorùbá language and later returned to Nigeria as a missionary. 

This original first list of his vocabulary, later published as a dictionary by the Church Missionary Society (see the review above), translates oriṣa still as deity, objects of worship; gods, idols! The two termini deity and gods were not printed in the dictionary sixty years later anymore. Èṣu is the devil, Orisha Orò is not mentioned at all and arobọ̀ is translated as petty trade. See how it all started, writing Yorùbá in Roman letters, using the Western alphabet, follow the link to one of the Google digital book scans.

Link


Michka Sachnine, Akin Akinyemi: Dictionnaire yorùbá-français suivi d’un index français-yorùbá. Éditions Karthala et Ifra, Paris, 1997.

This hardcover-book has an alphabetical index on top of the page and is produced in a good quality, thread-bound, easy to read, good layout. I call this one a real book. As the subtitle says it has a Yorùbá-French and a smaller French-Yorùbá section. Nothing to complain about, I am sure it is very useful as Yorùbá is also spoken in the francophone Benin Republic. I guess there are many people interested in this Yorùbá-dictionary. Looking up my four words I came across òrìṣà ~ òòṣà, n. terme désignant toutes les divinités du pantheon yorùbá, à l’exeption du Dieu créateur. The description is alright for me, the greek term “pantheon” applied to an African cultural expression is another story, it quickly sketches an image in your mind that is not adequate, but for a brief explanation I also would not know of a better term. Èṣù, n. dieu messager: il aurait enseigné l’art de la divination à Ifá et aurait conclu un pacte avec lui; en consequence, c’est lui que transformet les sacrifices au Dieu supreme. Il est ambigu et provocateur. Il a souvent été assimilé au décepteur des contes. Il a aussi été assimilé au diable par les chrétiens. Very good description, speaking of Èṣù as messenger and working closely with Ifá, bringing sacrifices to God, and being assimilated with the devil by the Christians. Orò is the dieu justicier lié au culte de la terre, se manifestant par l’emploi d’un rhombe: il ne doit en aucun cas être vu pa les femmes, sous peine de mort. Rhombe utilize par le dieu. Coutume, rite. Also a good and short description of Òrìṣà Orò, god of justice, feared by women, the bullroarer. Indexed here together with the same word orò for custom, habit, in one dictionary entry. Usually in the other dictionaries orò is mentioned twice, once as Òrìṣà, once as habit. The authors here decided to group the two words, which are actually the same but have very different meanings, together. Àróbọ̀ is not listed in this dictionary.


Márcio de Jagun: Yorùbá. Vocabulário Temático Do Candomblé. Litteris, 2017.

This is the latest Brazilian vocabulary book for the Olorixá community. It starts with an introduction to the main aspects of Yorùbá grammar. The rest of the book, which has 1240 pages, is arranged thematically into chapters that show the religious interests into e.g. Comidas Litúrgicas (liturgical dishes), Divinidades e Espiritos Ancestrais  (divinities and ancestral spirits), Ervas Rituais (ritual herbs), Qualidades e Titulos dos Òrìṣà  (qualities and titles of Òrìṣà), Ritmos Litúrgicos (liturgical rhythms) or Símbolos Christâos  (Christian symbols). The book has also chapters for everyday situations, like Dias da Semana (days of the week), Utensílios Domésticos (domestic items) or – the chapter I read first – Xingamentos (insults).

I am imagining a Nigerian reader, who finds out that his everyday food is considered a liturgical dish in Brazil! This is one of the interesting points in all diaspora guidebooks, Yorùbá is a synonym for a religion. There are some Fon-Gbe words in this book and descriptions of rituals which are not practiced in Yorùbáland, but in Brazil, like the tanná àbẹ́là, ritual de acender a vela (the ritual of lightning a candle). Àbẹ́là is even a Yorùbá word with Portuguese roots, probably because Portuguese traders or the Àgùdà, the returned slaves, introduced it to Yorùbáland. (The Cuban Oloricha still use itaná, something to lit on fire, as their word for a candle in a ritual.) The etymology of so-called Òrìṣà qualities is sometimes questionable, like bara  as designação do Òrìṣà Èṣù que todo ser humano possui, with the note that the term possibly comes from ba+ara (hide+body) or ba+ara  (accompany+body). It is mentioned when words are terms from the Brazilian context, like igbaru as qualidade do Òrìṣà Ṣàngó no Candomblé, or when their interpretation is not clear. Well done, other authors re-interpret diaspora terms back into Yorùbá language as if they would know them all (and often are wrong).

Let’s look up the four magic words: Òrìṣà is listed as deuses africanos da etnia yorùbá; energias do universo que estão presentes nos sentimentos, emoções, elementos e fenômenos da natureza (African deities of the Yorùbá ethnies; energies of the universe which are present in feelings, emotions, elements and phenomena of nature). It continues with a short description of deified ancestors and how the worship of these deities establishes an equilibrium in human beings. A nice and new description. Orò is mentioned as divinidade da floresta (divinity of the forest). The taboo for women to see him and a priesthood title are described, and that his cult did not survive in Brazil. The entry on Èṣù is complex, I only give a short summary. First, èṣù is translated as esfera (sphere). Second is the Òrìṣà who is dono dos caminhos  (owner of roads), interlocutor das divinidades (interlocutor of the divinities) and portador das ofrendas aos deuses (carrier of the offerings to the deities). Explicitly it says that Èṣù não deve ser confundido com o Diablo, nem Satanás, pois não representa o opositor ao Criador (must not be confused with the devil or Satan, because he is not representing the opposite of the Creator). Well done! The entry continues with a list of his elements, aspects in human life, a greeting with its common misinterpretation, ritual instruments, titles, more than twenty different avatars (that sound like oríkì) and his favorite colors. Very interesting! Àróbọ̀ is not listed in this vocabulary book.

The book has a hardcover, is thread bound and printed in good quality on a nice paper. The layout of the pages is well-arranged. An index of all words is missing. If you are looking for a word and you do not know into which thematic chapter it fits, it is time-consuming. Recommended to enlarge your Yorùbá vocabulary for the Brazilian terreiros!

Thank you to my Salvador-da-Bahian friend Paulo Cedraz for sending me information about this d

Abeni Adeola: Yoruba Language. The Yoruba Phrasebook and Dictionary.

This book has no publisher, but it says it is printed by Amazon in Poland. So I think it is a self-published book. It looks like a MS-Word document, has a table with two columns throughout the whole book, left side English, right side Yorùbá. Or better write it Yoruba, without diacritic marks. Except for some numerals there are absolutely no tone-marks throughout the whole phrase book and its so-called mini-dictionary. I consider it useless, except for native speakers, and I guess they do not need a phrase-book for 'Is it wireless internet?' or 'I am here for a business meeting.' The book was just published a few weeks ago. I can imagine maybe this is a production problem, maybe the author wrote it with tone-marks, but due to some technical self-publishing conversion issues it cannot be printed in this type-face, so it lacks all the tone-marks. It could be a nice small booklet with some highly contemporary Yorùbá phrases. I would love to ask for wireless internet in Yorùbá language when checking in at some Hotel in Naija, this sounds fun! The book has even conversation starters and useful phrases you won’t find in any other book like 'Mo fẹran nigba to ba ṣe eyi.' Please, Abeni Adeola, add tone-marks! Then it could be recommended to Yorùbá students


Kasahorow: Yoruba Learner’s Dictionary. Yoruba-English English Yoruba.

Same as above, printed by Amazon in Poland, a self-published book I guess, delivered within two days. With a really bold approach. It starts with an introduction on the Yorùbá language, it mentions letters, spelling conventions, sounds and gives an interesting general guideline on Writing Modern Yoruba, I quote here: Do not use accents of top of vowels (diacritics). Instead structure your sentence to avoid ambiguity. For example, write Sọ Yoruba lojo ojumọ (Box A is bigger than box B) instead of Sọ Yòrùbá lójo ojúmọ́. The version without diacritics is easier to write and just as clear and unambiguous. Aha. What…? Really? An interesting new point. But not only that the word Yorùbá is spelled wrong in the only sentence in this book featuring diacritic marks, I also do not know what the sentence in brackets means,  the one with the boxes. Needless to say that the whole book (a dictionary!) comes without diacritic marks, which leads to entries like gba collect, gba accept  or ogun battle, ogun inheritance, ogun August, ogun twenty. I would say that is not perfect for a book entitled Yoruba Learner’s Dictionary, this could be improved… Sorry ooo!

Lydia Cabrera: Anagó Vocabulario Lucumi (El Yoruba que se habla en Cuba), Prologo de Roger Bastide, Colección del Chiherekú, Ediciones Universal, Miami, Florida, 2007

This is not a dictionary, but a collection of phrases of Lukumí vocabulary, the remains of the Yorùbá language from times of slavery on the island Cuba. Cabrera collected these words in the 1950s, they are still in use today in rituals for the Orisha, especially in songs, prayers and incantations. I have written an extensive article on this topic in the blog, see the entry The Yorùbá guide to Lukumí for details. I mention it here because this is an English language blog on Orisha related themes, and I know everyone reading this post who is learning Yorùbá comes across the Cuban version of Orisha worship. I looked up my four magic words in this book.

Orisha or Oricha, English and Spanish versions are used alternatingly, is not listed as a single word, just in various word-combinations and phrases. There’s no translation for it into Spanish language. As this dictionary consists of words used only by Olorisha there is no need in translating the word, probably as santo, saint, how Orisha are called in Cuban Spanish (saints, not gods). Oro is listed as un orisha. Ocha que se llama con matraca y pilón, y que suena como el Ekue de los ñañigos. Viene cuando se llama el Egu (a los muertos) en una ceremonia donde no puede haber mujeres ni muchachos. In English this means Oro is an Orisha, called by a rattle (seems like Cabrera did not know about the bullroarer) and a mortar, that sounds like the Ekue  of the ñañigos. Ekue seems to be a sounding instrument I have never heard of, the ñañigos are another ethnic group in Cuba related to the Efik from the Calabar region of Nigeria. He comes when the Egu  are called, probably this should read Eégún in Yorùbá, because in the brackets it says 'the dead ones', in a ceremony where neither women nor young men are allowed. Eshu is listed as diablo, devil, el hermano de Elegua, the brother of Ẹlẹ́gbáa, de la misma familia, of the same family. Cubans think of Èṣù and Ẹlẹ́gbáa as being two different type of energies of the same Òrìṣà, a separation that does not exist like this in Nigeria. Èṣù is the wild energy outside, hardly controllable, while Ẹlẹ́gbáa is closer to the human world. Also San Antonio Abad is mentioned, the Catholic Saint identified in the diaspora with the worship of this Orisha. This means that Èṣù, although called diabolic, is at the same time identified with a Catholic saint, what makes a huge difference to Nigeria I believe. Surprisingly we even find the word àróbọ̀, in its Lukumí version aroboni, meaning comerciante, in English dealer or trader, what would be equivalent in meaning to the trade mentioned in the other Yorùbá dictionaries. The added –ni is likely the verb 'to be' in Yorùbá, this means 'it is trade', but the sentence is used like a noun for a profession of someone. This happens very often in Lukumí, more or less there is still a certain feeling for the meaning of a word, but let’s call it a very poetic way of using the ancestor’s heritage from the cruel times of slavery.

Mario Michelena y Rubén Marrero: Diccionario de Términos Yoruba. Pronunciación, sinonimias y uso práctico del idioma lucumí de la nación Yoruba. Prana, Mexico, Miami, Buenos Aires, 2010.

Although called “diccionario” this is far away from being a dictionary, and very far from the language Yorùbá! The authors, a studied technical engineer and a professor of accounting, dedicate their life to anthropological studies. They explain in the prologue that this book is about Lukumí phrases, brought to Cuba "by the Yoruba and Congo slaves from Nigeria". It is an interesting book, because the authors obviously have no knowledge about the Yorùbá tonal language, yet they use this term in the title of their book. They made up their own grammar based on what is called Lukumí in Cuba, the remains of Yorùbá language, used in songs and prayers to the Orisha and not spoken as a language anymore today. Three different tone levels or open and closed vowels are not mentioned at all. It is funny to read from the Yorùbá perspective, especially their pronunciation rules or tenses. Let’s take a look e.g. on the Yorùbá word ẹbọ, meaning sacrifice, offering. They translate it written as e-bbó in Spanish as limpieza or English as cleaning and the pronunciation rule tells us to call it el-bó. They also have another version, ebbó, translated as offering. In general they have all kind of words pronounced with a letter "l" in between, like Olbatalá, Ololdumare, Olggún, Elelguá. I know Spanish a lo Cubano is very nasal, but by inserting an “l” this is definitely too much emphasized. There are rules like whenever certain words end with -ilé, -kué and -dupe there has to be an ‘o’ added, like in ‘mo-dupé’, which is pronounced ‘moldupueo’. In reality the “o” or “òòò” frequently added to all kind of Yorùbá phrases is just to emphasize what one is saying. Another rule tells us that the prefix yiolo is added to a verb to form the imperfect tense: fó becomes yiolofó, ni becomes yioloni. Hmm..? Good morning means okuó-yireo and good afternoon becomes okuó-yi mao. Even the Orisha names get “translated”, Ọbàtálá, whose Yorùbá name means literally king of white cloth is here the King who shines in greatness, Yemọja, the mother whose children are the fishes, is the mother of the seven depths (profundidades), Olókun, the owner of the sea becomes the compassion of the sea. There is a small list of “vocabulary” in this booklet, but I could find just one of my four words. The word Oro is translated as sacred, saint, blessed, venerable, consecrate, profane, help, mass, hymns, voice, tune, couplet, intonation. Orisha Orò is not listed, not even as Oru, as he is frequently called in Cuba.


But this book is interesting for the passionate Yorùbá-Lukumí re-translation community. First there are the Improperios lucumi (Lukumí terms of abuse), which are new to me. Usually the discussions focus on the “sacred” language for the Orisha. Here the authors include everyday expressions like Eres un descarado! Yo me acosté con tu madre! Eres un idiota! translated into Lukumí. The other interesting part is the Lukumí version of the Christian Padrenuestro, The Lord’s Prayer, and the Avemaria. First time a Lukumí prayer can be directly compared to a written Yorùbá source! This raised many questions for me, as the daily bread is translated in this Cuban version as native Yorùbá food akara in Lukumí, while in the Yorùbá standard version from Nigeria it is oúnjẹ ọjọ́, the daily food. So I guess a Yorùbá slave translated it from Spanish or Latin on the island of Cuba. Or have Christians from Yorùbáland been among the slaves? Have free Yorùbá Christians travelled to Cuba later? Let’s close the book here. It is not a dictionary and not about Yorùbá language. From a linguistic view it is a completely crazy project, but I have to acknowledge that it brought up some very unconventional points to the Lukumí-Yorùbá discussion that have to be attributed to the authors. Yorùbá language students – just forget about this publication.


José Beniste: Dicionário Yorubá Português. Bertrand Brasil, 2011.

Judging a book by its cover I would immediately think the word “Yorubá” is spelled wrong here. It lacks a low-tone “u”. But after looking inside it is clear that the way the author writes “Yorubá” on the cover is obviously just the Portuguese version, maybe an adaption of the more often used “Iorubá”. All the Yorùbá words in this heavy, hardcover and thread-bound dictionary are correctly spelt with low, mid and high tones. A page index helps you to quickly find what you are looking for. The bold font for Yorùbá words, in capital letters only, is a bit eccentric, but makes it easy to read and the book has a professional design and is produced in a high quality, it will serve you for decades. Published in Brazilian Portuguese, most of the readers will probably be Olórìṣà, so I was curious about the translations for the words Òrìṣà, Orò, Èṣù and àróbọ̀.

Òrìṣà is translated as Divinidades representadas pelas energias da natureza, forças que alimentam a vida na terra, agindo de forma intermediária entre Deus e as pessoas, de quem recebem uma forma de culto e oferendas. Possuem diversos nomes de acordo com a sua natureza. Mo ti gbogbo òrìṣà búra – Eu juro por todas as divinidades; Ẹ̀sìn òrìṣà ni mo nbọ - É a religião dos orixás que eu cultuo; Òrìṣà mi ni Ọ̀ṣun – Minha divinidade de devoção é Oxum. = òòṣà. A very complete dictionary entry describing the Òrìṣà as forces of nature, something you can hear very often especially in Brazil, and giving some sentences of examples. Orò is uma divinidade cujas ceremônias são feitas na floresta. O culto é proibido às mulheres, que podem ouvi-li, porém não podem vê-lo. O sacerdotes do culto é denominado de Abẹrẹ. Good and short description of Òrìṣà Orò, with a small additional information how Orò priests are called. The following entry is on the word orò, which has the same melody, but means ritual or tradition. Èṣù does not appear as the devil in this list, instead he is the Divinidade com diferentes atributos ligados à comunicaçao entre o céu e a Terra, aos caminhos e à fertilidade. Èṣù Ọ̀dàrà ló ní ìkóríta mẹ́ta – Exu faz uso da encruzilhada. In English this means Èṣù is a divinity with different attributes linked to communication between heaven and earth, roads and fertility. Finally even the term àróbọ̀ is mentioned as prevaricação, alguma forma de prejudicar alguém, in English prevarication, prejudicing someone. This book is highly recommended for the Brazilian Yorùbá students.

Eduardo Napleão: Vocabulário Yorùbá para entender a linguagem dos orixás. Pallas, 2011.

Published in the same year as the other Brazilian Yorùbá dictionary above, this one is a smaller and cheaper soft-cover book. As the subtitle says, it is designed to translate mainly terms for the community of Brazilian Olórìṣà. Translations are word-to-word, there are not many explanations or additional examples how the word is used. This saves a lot of space on the pages and weight carrying the book around. Only two of my four words can be found in this book. Òrìṣà is translated simply as Divinidade. Short, but we don’t expect a dictionary to give us an insight into the Yorùbá philosophy. The term orò is just mentioned as ritual, culto, liturgia, but not as Òrìṣà Orò. Although the Orò cult did not survive the middle passage to Brazil, I think it should have been mentioned in a dictionary for Olórìṣà, at least as Orò’s “twin brother” Egúngún is still being worshipped in Salvador da Bahia. Èṣù is Exu. Divinidade yorubana responsável pelo movimento, transporte, intercâmbio e comunicação. Guardião dos templos. Mensageiro dos orixás. Orixá responsável pelo policiamento da sociedade. One of the few entries with a long explication in this book. Èṣù as the deity of movement, transport, exchange and communication, guardian of the temples, messenger and responsible for policing the society. Èṣù is no Satan to the Brazilians. Àróbọ̀ is not mentioned. It is a handy book, light-weight and good for travels.

Fonseca Júnior, Eduardo: Dicionário antológico da cultura afro-brasileira : Português - Yorubá - Nagô - Angola - Gêge ; incluindo as ervas dos Orixás, doenças, usos e fitologia das ervas. São Paulo, Maltese, 1995.

The author of this book is professor of Political Sciences, Theology and Black Culture (according to his biography printed in the book) and works as a journalist. Forewords by the Brazilian Ministry of Culture, the Ministry of Health, the Pan-American Organisation of Health, the Embassy of Nigeria in Brazil, the Academia Brasileira de Letras, the Sindicato dos Escritores do DF and the label of the Fundação Banco do Brasil on the cover make it clear: the author has done his homework. It is an impressive 670-page book that starts with chapters on slavery and continues with a description of the world of Orisha. He mentions all kinds of facts, from Abikú-children, so-called ministers of the Old Oyo empire, ranks and titles in Yorùbá society and the most important Orixás. An interesting timeline tells us about the Orixá-dynasty, called Sacred Kings of Oyó. This starts with Oduduwá, called Fundador da Cultura Afro  (Founder of the Afro-Culture), 2000-1800 BC (yes, before Christ), mentions Xangô, Quarto Alafin de Oyó with 1500-1450 BC and Aganju, Sexto Alafin de Oyó around 1370-1290 BC. He also compares Oduduwá with the Egyptian Nimrod, Ogun with the volcano and Ishedale, daughter of Oba-Olokun, with Afrodite, so there’s a good mix of all the ideas about Yorùbá deities we have heard about within the last decades.

First I thought this is a compilation like Lydia Cabrera’s book on the Cuban Lukumí terminology, a collection of words from Olorisha, used since the times of slavery. But instead the dictionary is a compilation of Portuguese words, that are translated into 'Yorubá', as the author writes it. For Yorubá he just uses a high-tone diacritic mark throughout the whole book, so he writes all words in mid and high tone, low tones don’t exist. But he also lists Yorubá or Nagô  expressions, that are translated into Portuguese language, and includes Portuguese phrases that have to do with Orixá worship plus adds words from other ethnic influences, Indigenous-Brazilians, Ewe/Gbe (Gêge) and Bantu (Angola), all together in one alphabetical list. On the other hand he also seems to have included Yorùbá words from real Yorùbá dictionaries, e.g. he has one entry on Orixá, one on Ôrixá (with a circumflex on the first letter) and another one on Orisá (what he calls the original Yorùbá variant, no dotted s). I wanted to look up my four magic words: Orisá (Ôrixá) subs. em Yorubá: Anjo da guarda. etmo.: “Ori”=Cabeça; “Sá”=Guardiāo da Caça. Divinidade elementar da natureza. Figura central do culto afro. Ôrixá subs. afro-bras.: Personificação e divinização das forças da natureza, que bem pode ser traduzida por santo, na acepção católica. Orixá subs.corrupt. afro-bras. Anjo da guardia, Guardião da Cabeça. Divinidade elementar da natureza. etmo.: Orí=Cabeça e Xá=Guardião. Figura central dos cultos afro-brasileiros. Lit.=Anjo da guarda. Original em Yorubá: Orisá. Original em Gêge: Vodún. Original em Angola: Inkisse. Three different explanations on three different spellings of the word Òrìṣà. My second word, Èṣù, we find in its Portuguese version Exú: subs. em Yorubá: Esú. Divinidade Yorubana da fertilidade. Obs.: Erradamente comparado ao Diabo católico pelos colonizadores europeus, que precisavam destruir as culturas. Original em Angola: Mavambo. Original em Gêge: Legbá. É Orixá e mansageiro dos Orixás. So again he says the original Yorùbá word would be Esú. Just three letters and the author got all of them wrong. Èṣù, the god of fertility, interesting. This is a description you can read everywhere for art and ritual objects from Africa. If one does not know what it is about, it is the “god/symbol of fertility”, it is a term you could apply to almost all the Orisha. He also mentions that Èṣù is not the devil and that European colonizers inte

Àróbọ̀ or something equivalent (also in Portuguese translations) could not be found in this dictionary.

Just one last example that shows that this dictionary could be improved. The entry otá subs. em Yorubá: Inimigo, oponente, antagonista, adversário. Erradamente, é traduzido nos rituais afro-brasileiros como “pedra de assentamento de Orixá” (vide okutá). He translates otá as Yorùbá ọ̀tá (low-high), enemy. At the same time he says the Brazilian Olorisha got it wrong, because they call the stones consegrated to the Orisha otá, what is a mistake. But ọta (mid-mid) in Yorùbá really means stone! Time to close this book.

Have fun studying Yorùbá! If you know more dictionaries please let me know and write a small message! Ire òòò!


HOW ORISHA OSHUN WAS MET IN OSHOGBO
JUNE 16, 2016
OSHUN OSHOGBO
This text is an excerpt taken from a booklet entitled „The timeless mind of the Sacred“ published by the University of Ibadan in 1977. It was written by Adunni Olorisha Susanne Wenger. It describes the myth of the foundation of the city of Oshogbo and how the Yorùbá people encountered Orisha Oshun at the banks of her river for the first time. It gives a deep insight on the spiritual world and is a traditional story as told in Yoruba-land, from the view of the artist. Susanne Wenger and the artists of the "New Sacred Arts" movement were responsible for saving and revitalizing the Sacred Groves of Oshun, now UNESCO world heritage site and known for the annual festival attracting thousands of pilgrims from all over the world. The Yorùbá tonemarks are transcribed as in the original copy of the booklet.



Oṣogbo, the Town a Living Myth

Oṣogbo, the Town a Living Myth

By Susanne Wenger

Oṣogbo tradition has it, that this town is metaphysically mothered by Ọ̀ṣun, the Yoruba goddess of The Waters of Life, who manifests herself to the Yoruba as the river Ọ̀ṣun, synonymous to the Scriptures Rivers of the Living Waters. The river bears her name, as a credit to being metaphysically and in metaintelligence first grade kindred to the goddess. When the Fulani tried to extend their unbroken chain of successful conquest all on their way to the ocean’s beaches, it was Ọ̀ṣun, who held them up. Clad in her metaphysical-anthropomorphic charms, she got the better of them with a deadly trick. She sold vegetables to them, which loosened their bowels and so their energies. That Ibadan soldiery performed the defeat physically, does not contradict the fact that they did it in Oṣogbo.

Oṣogbo is a highly successful market town. She has the reputation of being a woman, for her warmhearted hospitality to all travelers. She is a substantial market-woman and a substantial witch. A witch which is not necessarily a perverted monster, eating her own children and others, a witch can also be a female with imperative-operative magic properties. And as gods are-however intensely female like Ọ̀ṣun- synoecius in their nature, it is this her magic impetus, which gives the name to her favourite daughter, Oṣogbo, the name, oṣó wizard, of the groves, igbó. It is her metaphysical impact on this town and all born there (and anywhere) by the metaphysical-physical synonomy of fecundity, which is the eriterion of this goddess’s sacred dynamism, which caracterizes her children, who are her devotees.

Not only is every citizen in Oṣogbo aware of this, his metaphysical kindred into the world beyond and above physical life through Ọ̀ṣun, one is also aware of this town’s physical-metaphysical dual status through the strange fact that this vitally living and trading mass of physical involvements is a shadow only of ist metaphysical proto-self in the groves of Ìpólé.

Chieftaincy disputes divided the royal house in Ìbòkun. The crown’s innate magic potency was parthogenetically divided with the help of appropriate ritual, usually done when there is a profusion of strength in several people eligible to the throne. The progenitor of the future new branch chose the side of the later Ìpólé, guided by reactions and deflections of sacred medicine towards mystically kindred accummulations in the soil. But as the settlement grew under the powerful shadow of its Baálẹ̀ Ọwátẹ̀, the old trouble, clash of profuse energy arrised again between his offspring and his own into immortality extended personality. This was augmented by lack of water in that area. The crown divided again. While those in charge of the now here potent ritual instances were bound there, others were eager to migrate again.


dedoyin Olosun Faniyi and Fatoki, daughter and great-grandson of Susanne Wenger at the Ojubo Osun at the Sacred Grove Osogbo, 2015.

Willing to stay was Ọwátẹ̀, the powerful priest of Ifá and Baálẹ̀ of the place. Willing to migrate was his son Lárọ̀ and his entourage. But Ọwátẹ̀’s eldest son, and crown prince Tìmẹyìn was a restless adventurer and a mighty hunter not willing to settle, neither here nor there. But nevertheless concerned about the future of his town, whose heir was without free choice, he promised, setting out on one more hunting expedition to look for a site favourable in magic-mystic respects as well as rich in water, for a settlement, on which he would install Lárọ̀ to rule, as Lárọ̀ was a highly gifted man indeed.

Travelling and hunting in the unbroken forests, not climbing down sometimes for months from the heights and crowns of the giant trees which grow into each other with entwined arms, so avoiding the chaotic denseness of undergrowth and creepers, burdened with charms and filled with supernatural desires, Tìmẹyìn came to the spot of Ọ̀kánlà, a small but never desiccating spring, inspired by the genius of that sacred source. He spotted an elephant and a shot, so rashly and unknowingly violating taboo, since that elephant was a female giving birth. Only this man’s supernatural powerful disposition could set free himself from the grip of apocalyptic disaster. But Tìmẹyìn’s impetuous exhortation and conjuring forced the axiom course of the instant violation of taboo, and forged the supernatural impact into sacred dynamicism. The surviving baby elephant was tethered and attended to with ritual-as it was now one Oriṣa- on Tìmẹyìn’s behalf there were now the shrine for Ògún Tìmẹyìn is in the King’s Market of Oṣogbo.


Tìmẹyìn himself proceeded on, hunting and dreaming of unforseen encounters which he intended to right. In the groves of Awowò, he surprised a group of the god Ọ̀sanyìn’s entourage, 16 genii, conferring with each other on the energies and properties of herbs, floral energy’s synonymy in this and the other world, whose god Ọ̀sanyìn is. As Ọ̀sanyìn is closest helper of Ifá, the oracle whose outstanding priest Tìmẹyìn’s father was, he could break into the circle, so entering initiation into divine status. It is this event and these genii’ “third eyes”, shinning in transcendent flames, which is commemorated in the wake, which initiates the yearly Ọ̀ṣun-celebration, with the 16 oil lamps on Ọ̀sanyìn’s sacred ọ̀pá osoòrò.

He then reached the place called Ọja, “the market”, flat rocks on the height of Òntótó. This was and is a market, (place of trading as well as of ritual or ceremonial gatherings) for prehuman-primordials,  mystical matters on the level of physical-evolute para-organic presences, unperceivable by uninitiated senses. There he first heard the sound of the river, which noisily jumps over plump, dark boulders there, where the sacred ponds Láoọkọ̀n and Iwẹ̀dá are providing for their type of Ọ̀ṣun devotees. But echo guided him to that side, which we know as Ojubọ Oṣogbo, the place which is the residence of the goddess herself.

Oshun's Eshu with some offerings sitting next to the central statue at the Oshun river, dry season, 2015.

Pursuing an antelope he, the unfailing hunter was to his maddening disappointment, cheated of the bliss of the kill, as the deer vanished inside the body of one mighty tree on the pond’s bank. He would not suffer the loss ans set-unheard of sacrilege-fire to the tree, which burned wildly, till it fell, with a tremendous splash, into the pond. To his bewildered surprise Ọ̀ṣun appeared greatly annoyed, abusing him, as only she knows to do, blaming him for breaking her pots, as the pond is her Idi aro, Indigo-dyeing place. From all the other ponds he heard the voices of her wives sympathizing with her.

The encounter however took a turn to the better, when Ọ̀ṣun saw the man himself, but only after a stormy scene about his attacks on the inhabitants of her sanctuary. But the encounter between Ọ̀ṣun and Tìmẹyìn was an intense one to the point of catapulting him, who was mystically prepared by the genii of Ọ̀sanyìn, into divine status. He is to Òṣogbo since then Ògún Tìmẹyìn, Òṣogbo’s romantic aspect of the god Ògún.


One of the rare olden trees, directly at the entrance to the Ojubo Oshun.

Before his departue, he got Ọ̀ṣun’s promise to welcome his brother, Lárọ̀ and his entourage, which he intended to direct towards settlement on the banks of the sacred river. He would install him there as the Baálẹ̀, with a crown, which Ọ̀ṣun herself would place on his head. He, Tìmẹyìn the classical mystical adventurer, would never give up his restless movements.

Tìmẹyìn, Lárọ̀, Ògìdán and Ṣogbó, all integrates of sacred symbolism and mythic men, arrived. Ọ̀ṣun welcomed them affectionately; Lárọ̀ especially was a delight to her. It is Lárọ̀ who till now is the immortal ruler of the town which was founded later. He lives on in the person of the Atáọ́ja, the town’s king, who through certain rituals during the installation assumes the immortal, through Ọ̀ṣun’s love immortalised identity of Lárọ̀. During his term of reign, an Atáọ́ja is a living vessel for Lárọ̀’s life, of which service he is relieved only - again ritually - after his death, so as to return into his own derivation of rebirths. Ọ̀ṣun also helped Lárọ̀, who till then had no offspring, into great fecundity, making him initially adopt one of her own children, a fish. The reunion with this fish is ritually repeated annually, when the Atáọ́ja has, during the great festival, to put his hand into the river, which will hold a fish.


concrete-statue of Oshun Oshogbo, built by artist Shaka at the place where Oshun was met by the Yoruba settlers. Dry season, 2015.

The sacred virgin, who has to carry Ọ̀ṣun’s paraphernalia to the river during the annual procession, so as to renew the pact on behalf of all children of Ọ̀ṣun with her sacred river and giving it the property to confer with them on her behalf, has to be a daughter of Lárọ̀. She is chosen by Ọ̀ṣun, who will proclaim her choice to her priests on a certain day of the ritual year. She may be “Arugbá”, carrier of the sacred calabash, for several years, till she is grown up and she will carry the Igbá the last time when she will proceed from the river, on the day of procession, to her husband’s house.

Quoted from:
Susanne Wenger Àdunni Oloriṣa: The timeless mind of the Sacred. Its New Manifestations in the Ọ̀ṣun Groves. Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan, Ibadan, 1977, p. 20-22


CONSTRUCTING CUBAN BATA-DRUMS
JUNE 23, 2016
 This is a tutorial on how to build and mount contemporary but traditional rope-tuned batá-drums from Cuba, which are used in Lukumí Orisha rituals. The tutorial is also available as a video - relax and sit back, listen to the instructions and get to see lots of photos from the process of mounting.

This page contains lots of high-quality images - it may take some time to load completely!

The sound produced by unconsecrated aberikulá drums (Yorùbá aberíkùrá, person with unsanctified head) is more authentic than the sound of ilú-batá (Yor. ìlù,  drum) which have the modern metal tuning system of tumbadoras or congas. Those may be ideal for the stage, but lack the sound of drums used in rituals. The sound of traditionally tuned batá-drums is very different from the many popular recordings you might know, it’s more touching and energetic with a deep bass on the caja.

Here I want to demonstrate a technique of mounting rope-tuned batá-drums. This is about drums, that look and sound like Añá-drums, but it is not about the secrets how a consecrated drumset would be made. This is left for the initiates.

The batá-drums in Cuba have their origin in Nigeria with the Yorùbá people. Here you can see a small survey of my batá-collection. On the left a Nigerian iyáàlù bought in Osogbo, followed by an iyá bought in Havana with rawhide-tuning, followed by a contemporary Havana-style iyá with rope-tuning (its heads are not yet dry on the photo, that’s why the rope is not yet fixed to the body). On the right finally a modern Cuban batá drum, also bought in La Habana.
Today`s batá in Nigeria have a second layer of skin on their heads. This never was part of the Cuban traditon, maybe it was invented after the era of the slave trade or the Cuban tradition comes from parts of Yoruba-land where you can find ìlù bàtá with only one skin on their heads up to today. The Nigerian batá is also played with a bílálà, a small leather stick, on the chacha-head. In Matanzas town Cuban drummers sometimes make use of a leather stick on the culata of the iyá-drum, called chancleta. It is also made of leather but shaped differently.



As you can see the Havana-style batá-drum is also completely made of rawhide, calf- or thin cow-hide, and the leatherstrings are made of thicker cow- or bullhide. This requires lots of hard work, cutting a whole skin into one long string. Once the leather dries up it gets very stiff and the drum can not be be tuned anymore, so people nowadays tend to use rope instead. The Havana-style cintura, the linear threading on the chacha or culata side, will serve as our model for the batá we are going to construct. This can also be done with rope only as you see on the photos above.


You won’t find any of these diamonds on traditional Havana-batá, like in the Matanzas-threading-system, where they used just rope already a long time ago. But in the modern way these two techniques from the city of Havana and Matanzas are combined. We keep the beautiful appearance of the traditional Havana rawhide pattern and combine it with the great effishacy of Matanzas rope tuning. We will build a contemporary batá-drum which will sound and look like a ritual drum used today.

Get your local carpenter to produce the drum shells. I have researched various batá-drum forums in the internet, taken measures of drums by myself and compared those with historical information out of the books of Fernano Ortiz. So I came up with measures I would consider very traditional - and “right”.

I do not like those new forms of the drum shells, which tend to be very curved with a round bodied iyá-drum. On historical Cuban images or also on contemporary handmade Añá-drums you can see that they are kind of straight and linear in their form. Also in Nigeria the drum shell for a batá can hardly be called curved. So do not exaggerate in getting your drums very roundish and hourglass-shaped. Keep them well balanced between the chacha and the enu part. Here you can see my complete batá-set, okonkolo, itotele and iyá, painted with lacquer.

The measures I used are like this:

The okonkolo is 515 mm (20.3 inches) long, the chacha head is 130 mm (5.2 inches), the enu is 180 mm (7.1 inch).

The itotele is 690 mm (27.2 inches) long, the chacha head is 150 mm (5.9 inches), the boca is 245 mm (9.6 inches)

The caja is 730 mm (28.7 inches) long, with the culata around 175 mm (6.9 inches) and the boca 310 mm (12.2 inches). The heads are still drying on this photo.

The wood type depends on where you live, basically it should be a hard type of wood to get thin drum-shells that are durable but not heavy in weight. For drums the wood-type is not that important like for other musical instruments, where the wood is vibrating and producing sound. More important for a drum is the shape, so talk to your carpenter about it, or ask local drummakers. As these won’t be sacred drums, it doesn’t have to be cedro from South American rainforests. Use local trees. I did one set in Austrian oakwood and another one in alderwood.

Make the rims nice and smooth with sandpaper, also the inside of the shell should be plain and even, but not polished like the outside. A very hard and dense type of wood combined with a very even surface on the inside is likely to produce ringing overtones. My drumshells are around one centimeter thick, that’s not even half an inch, equally all over the body, what is very thin and makes them light-weight.



Than the aros, the rings or hoops, are another important topic. Traditionally and ritually prepared in Cuba they would be made out of fresh branches from a Guayaba-tree. We make the rings professionally out of raffia palm fiber, which is also called rattan. Raffia palm is very flexible and won’t break even when you apply tension to it later while mounting the heads. Get into your local handcrafts or furniture making supply store, and buy rods of rattan. They come in different diameters and sizes, I used ones around 1 to 1.5 cm, around half an inch, smaller ones for the smaller drums, bigger ones for the caja.


Soak them over night in water, then bend them around irontubes or whatever you can find, fix them and let them dry completely. They won’t break, even in very small diameters. The tubes should have a diameter a little bit smaller than your drums are, because once you open up the dry rattan rings, they will pop up a little bit and get slightly bigger. It is easy to make a small ring bigger, once they are dry, but it is hard to make them smaller.


Cut them, as you can see here, to have a big overlapping surface where you can put the glue on, and use woodglue to put them together, fix them again with clamps and let them dry.

The cross section of the ring is now 100% rounded, as you bought the rods. You can polish the rings on the inside a little bit to get more space for the rawhide later on and the rope that passes through the ring. Remember your rings should be bigger than the drum diameter is, because between the ring and the drumshell is where the leather and the rope goes. There must be enough space, otherwise you can not mount the drums. Especially your cowhide will get very thick when fully soaked with water.
Nowadays almost all the Cuban batá-drums have cowhide on them. There is no specification on what to use exactly today. Traditionally, according to the literature, drummers in Cuba used a young male goat for the chacha-head and an elder male goat for the enu, or if they could get one of the few venados, deer, from the bush. Cowskin was used only for the threading. Fernando Ortiz writes it was even prohibited using other animals than goats, like rams, bulls, or even female ones like cows and she-goats have not been in use. Also in Nigeria today only goat-skins are used for the batá-drums, and antelope for the threading. I heard all kinds of suggestions in interviews with Cuban batadrummers. Some still mount goatskin on their chacha heads or prefer even mule for their enú, no one talks about the sex of the animals, which in former times all died as sacrifice to the Orisha. 

One can imagine that a goat skin has another sound than a cowskin has. This really makes a difference. I do not follow the common rule of mounting just cowskins on the batá. For this set I used goat and calf for the small okonkolo, calf and cow for the middle itotele and a thinner cowskin for the big iyá. A goat skin is very different from a cowskin in its diameter. If you use cowhide only, try to find at least thinner cowskin or calfskin. Try goatskin on the chacha-head, I really like its dry and sharp slaps! I think it was the influence of the modern tumbadoras, that led to the use of cowskin only. With the loss of the ability to speak Yorùbá on the drums, the melodic sounds, different pitches and the musicality in playing got more important.


Soak the skin in water overnight or at least for several hours. By soaking, the skin becomes thicker and the goat skin is very fragile when wet.

Get prestretched ropes in your local sailing supply store. It is important to use high quality rope, that doesn’t stretch and elongate once you pull it. Do not buy cheap rope, it will stretch later and you loose the tension. In sailing supply stores they have all kind of diameters and colors. I used a five milimeter sailing rope, that’s less than a quarter inch. Very important: do not use rope that has a core and a cover around it, use only rope that is threaded completely into one piece.

In those saling supply stores you get grips and handles, which are very useful, as you will see later on. With a handle like that you can easily pull the rope wherever you can grab it, this saves lots of times later. The lever you can see in the photo is the ultimate gear for getting your drum tensioned and only recommended to people with some experience. It is a professional tool from djembe-drum-makers. It is very useful, but as a batá-drums have two heads, you can easily destroy all the work you have done before by pulling it too hard on one side, that effects the other side as well. But it is a great tool you will find only at true professional's drum-making workshops!


So we now have the drum shells ready, the soaked leather, the rope – let’s get into the theory of tensioning Havanna style bata drums! These are the only tools you need from right now on.


First decide how often you want to go up and down with the main rope around the batá-drum. It starts with five times, as my traditional Havanna-leather-stringed iyá has, and goes up to ten times, what I have seen. I did my okonkolo and the itotele with six, what is quite usual, and the iyá with eight times going up and down. Later you mount the drumhead in this way. You will have to cut two holes into the rawhide at every point where the rope goes through inside of the rattan ring. One hole is on the upperside, one directly on its opposite at the bottom. There’s an easy way of getting these measures.

Draw a circle on a piece of paper, which consists of 360 degrees, and divide it by your chosen number, how often you want to go up and down. I took six (okonkolo, itotele) or eight (iyá) times on the photos, what is quite “traditional”. Iit is easy to calculate, for example 360 divided by six is sixty degrees. So mark six sections, each one in a sixty degree angle, to have an equal distance between the holes you will cut later. My second set I did with eight times going up and down on all the drums

An important point to know before we go on: for six double-holes on the enú side of the drum, you need seven on the chacha side. Because this is where you start with the first knot to anchore the rope - you need one extra double-hole right there. This hole and the one next to it are punched in an equal distance from where only one hole alone would be on the chacha. On the enú-head you will mark your holes directly on the predrawn line with a felt pen, to have all of them in equal distance. On the chacha, instead of marking one hole directly onto the line, mark two holes (or let’s say four, two double-holes) in equal distance to this line, leaving some space in between them.


With this knowledge in mind transfer the sections to a transparent plasticfoil you put on top of the paper. For every drumhead you need one of those plasticfoils. Put the foil on your drum, wrap it around the ring and imagine it to be your rawhide and mount it as you want it to look like later when finished. This step helps you to determine exactly where your holes should be. Push the ring a little bit down. You do not want to hit the ring later when playing. Mark your holes on the foil with a felt pen. If your drumshell is perfectly rounded, you can mark all the upper holes only, what is easy. Then you just have to mark one hole from the bottomside, as it is difficult to write down there in the narrow space beyond the ring with a felt pen. Using a ruler or tape you can transfer this distance to all the other holes later that are missing on your sketch.

Take your plastic foil with your hole markings, lay it on the prepared skin, and punch  your holes. I used a small metal tube with sharpened edges and a hammer. You get professional punching-tools in all sizes in leather-shops, but as I just needed it for a few drums this was the cheapest solution. Then cut your drumhead out, roundish, and leave some additional inches around.

With your personal assistent you are now working on one side of the drum, passing the rope onto each other. Sit down on the floor or at a table and start the threading process. Cut the rope into the length you will need for going up and down around the drum and add some extra length for the threading of the cintura and the tensioning afterwards. Yes, you are right, that’s a pretty long rope!

YORÙBÁ LANGUAGE COURSES
OCTOBER 22, 2019
 This is a list of Yorùbá language books I have collected over the years. The first course in this list was published by myself and is free to download: the great and unique Yorùbá Melody Audio Course, developed with the help of linguist Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún from www.yorubaname.com and many more friends and olorisha from all over the world, see the page about the course. Some of the other courses in this list can also be officially downloaded for free. The reviews are written from my personal point of view, which combines olorisha with language student. A typical and popular combination today, which is not yet reflected in the books on the market!

I started taking classes at the Yorùbá Cultural Institute in New York. Later I moved back to Europe, it was difficult finding a Yorùbá teacher. I started to work with native speakers, who usually do not have experience in language education. I had to provide the materials by myself, so I searched for literature. There are many books on the market in English language. If you don’t have access to professional classes, my advice is to search for the help of a native speaker and prepare your own classes. This means a lot of work and you will depend on good resources. Here’s my list of Yorùbá language courses as an inspiration. Also, check our list of Yorùbá dictionaries and read the Yorùbá Publishing Manual!

Orishaimage and Yorubaname (ed.): Yorùbá Melody Audio Course. English, Español, Português, Deutsch. Creative Commons, 2017

To download this phrasebook for olorisha please go to this page on the blog: Yorùbá Melody Audio Course. You can also listen to it online via Soundcloud. The course has 22 chapters, runs 90 minutes, and is available for free. It addresses especially olorisha and cultural tourists who want to travel to Yorùbáland. It is a phrasebook covering basic topics and a short introduction to the language. It can give you a first impression how Yorùbá works and can accompany your language studies. Repeated listening helps you to remember important phrases. Available in four languages! I wanted to produce a course for the target audience of Yorùbá language courses, so “Yorùbá Melody” has a lot of phrases for olorisha.  You won’t find them in the other books

Fẹ̀hìntọlá Mosádomi, Department of African and African Diaspora Studies, The University of Texas at Austin (ed.): Yorùbá Yé Mi. A Beginning Yorùbá Textbook. Austin, 2011

Published under Creative Commons License this beginner’s course, including a working book and lots of audio files, is published for free and can be downloaded on the university’s website. It’s a complete modern course, well structured, features dialogues and small texts on various topics, chapters on grammar, vocabulary exercises. It is a step-by-step introduction to the language and the typical cultural issues embedded into a modern educational concept. Good layout. Highly recommended for all beginners! I printed and bound the PDF file to work with it in my classes and always had the MP3 audio files on my mobile with me. Thank you to the editors of this project!
Website

Karin Barber and Akin Oyètádé: Yorùbá Wuyì. Ìwé Kìíní (Book One). A Beginners’ Course in Yorùbá. Hakuna Matata Press Èdè Publications, London, 2000

This book is meant to get the students talking and includes four audio CDs. The book is a revised edition of “Yorùbá Dùn ún sọ”, which was published several years before (see below). The book has very good grammatical explanations, sections on cultural details, many dialogues and funny illustrations. It focuses on the way how Yorùbá is spoken. Vowel assimilation is a topic, as well as the shortening of words and phrases and dialect variants are mentioned. Here you won’t find “Èwo ni o fẹ́?” – instead it is “Èwo lo fẹ́?”, as used in daily routine. “Ẹja mìíràn can also be pronounced ẹja mìíìn”, is another example. What makes this book so special is that the changing tone patterns are described in detail, something that is missing in other courses. You can read annotations like “Pronounced on a flattened mid tone due to the effect of the Assimilated Low Tone explained on page 102”. This sounds complicated, but by studying with this book you will get a feeling for tonal qualities. “After a high-tone verb, the object pronoun is on a mid-tone, after a mid-tone verb, the object pronoun is on a high (level high) tone, etc.”. It mentions difficulties with written and spoken language. “Orí n fọ́ ọ” could mean “you have– ” or “he/she has a headache”, but the pronunciation is different: 3rd person is a smooth glide at the end, while in 2nd person the vowels can be heard separately. The authors wrote “Òrìṣà” with a capital “O”, what shows their respect for the Yorùbá deities. No Evangelical worldview in this book. One of the best courses.

Antonia Yétúndé Fọlárìn Schleicher: Jé K’Á Sọ Yorùbá/Jé K’Á Ka Yorùbá. Yale University Press, New Haven and London, 1993

This series of two books, one called “Let’s Talk Yorùbá”, the other one “Let’s Read Yorùbá”, set the standard for the Yorùbá classroom. The latter one is an intermediate course. The layout could need modernization, but they are both good books that can be recommended. It addresses reading, writing, speaking and listening skills and focuses on practical everyday communication. The liner notes talk about some available “audio cassettes”, but I have not found any digital files to download. Small texts explain Yorùbá cultural topics, monologues and dialogues introduce new vocabulary, pronunciation exercises help you to develop a higher fluency in speaking. Well-structured and interesting.

Antonia Yétúndé Fọlárìn Schleicher: Colloquial Yoruba. The Complete Course for Beginners. Routledge, New York, 2008

This 250-page book originally came with two CDs, today the audiofiles to be downloaded for free on the publisher's website. A digital Kindle or PDF edition is available. It is meant to give the student the opportunity to learn without a teacher. It features very realistic Yorùbá dialogues and it also addresses the community of olorisha or second-generation Nigerians in the US, as there are e.g. dialogues speaking about Orisha traditions in Brazil or the multi-ethnic background in Brooklyn, comparing it to Lagos. The layout is up to date, the structure of the course is great. This book has the best graphic design of all these courses. So-called “language points” explain not only grammar but give you a deeper insight on the Yorùbá view of the world, e.g. explain the different time-relations or how to speak about sickness. In my opinion it is the best course available on the market and very practical. I combined it with some more theoretical books on grammar. Recommended.
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arl W. Stevick, Olaleye Aremu, Foreign Service Institute (ed.): Yoruba Basic Course/Yoruba Intermediate Texts. Washington D.C., 1963. (PDF/MP3)

The US Foreign Service Institute once provided many local language courses for their diplomats and the Peace Corps. In 1967 they published a course on Yorùbá, that was digitalized by the Live Lingua Project (MP3 & PDF) and is now under public domain. It can be downloaded free of charge. There is a Basic Course available – 350 pages and 13 hours of audiofiles – and an Intermediate Course – 250 pages and 1 hour of audiofiles. The material is useful, has a huge focus on the “Tone Drill Series”, just the sound quality of the recording is a bit antiquated, but as it is free, you can’t complain about that. The texts cover many different topics and every phrase is available as MP3. The diacritics for the different tone levels, especially gliding tones, at that time have been written a little bit different than today, but they are added very carefully to the texts. Be aware, many people sell this free course under different names!
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Kayode J.Fakinlede: Beginner’s Yoruba. Hippocrene Books, Inc, New York, 2018 (with online audio files)
Kayode J.Fakinlede: Beginner’s Yoruba. Hippocrene Books, Inc, New York, 2010 (with two audio CDs)

Two editions of one book. The 280-page book originally came with two audio CDs. The new edition has two new features: a new cover design and audio files which are now online to download at the publisher's website. One of the problems the book still has is that it uses a font which does not feature underdotted letters. The underdotted letters in this book are correct and all there, but they are substituted in another typeface, what looks strange. A common problem we discussed in the Yoruba Publishing Manual. The graphic design is not very cool. With simple frames around the texts it looks like a document written with Microsoft Word. Otherwise, this publication has profound topics on Yorùbá grammar which I have not found in other books, like the section on numerals. The dialogues are useful, a few cultural aspects are discussed and the vocabulary section is solid, the audio files are good quality. This is the contemporary urban Yorùbá with lots of loanwords from English, like dokita, sobujeeti, bisineesi, lati beta, ofiisi, teniisi (yes, this means tennis). It is not the vocabulary you need for the world of Orisha. The new edition addresses olorisha on the back cover, mentioning the "Santería religion of the Caribbean" and "Yorùbá words found in Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religion". The publishing house spotted a new market. You won't find Orisha prayers or songs in this book, instead sentences like „My grandfather was a traditional believer, but he loved all of us very much. He was a man of God.“ Hm. It's a good book though for beginners, recommended for the daily situations.
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Kayode J.Fakinlede: Beginner’s Yoruba. Hippocrene Books, Inc, New York, 2018 (with online audio files)
Kayode J.Fakinlede: Beginner’s Yoruba. Hippocrene Books, Inc, New York, 2010 (with two audio CDs)

Two editions of one book. The 280-page book originally came with two audio CDs. The new edition has two new features: a new cover design and audio files which are now online to download at the publisher's website. One of the problems the book still has is that it uses a font which does not feature underdotted letters. The underdotted letters in this book are correct and all there, but they are substituted in another typeface, what looks strange. A common problem we discussed in the Yoruba Publishing Manual. The graphic design is not very cool. With simple frames around the texts it looks like a document written with Microsoft Word. Otherwise, this publication has profound topics on Yorùbá grammar which I have not found in other books, like the section on numerals. The dialogues are useful, a few cultural aspects are discussed and the vocabulary section is solid, the audio files are good quality. This is the contemporary urban Yorùbá with lots of loanwords from English, like dokita, sobujeeti, bisineesi, lati beta, ofiisi, teniisi (yes, this means tennis). It is not the vocabulary you need for the world of Orisha. The new edition addresses olorisha on the back cover, mentioning the "Santería religion of the Caribbean" and "Yorùbá words found in Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religion". The publishing house spotted a new market. You won't find Orisha prayers or songs in this book, instead sentences like „My grandfather was a traditional believer, but he loved all of us very much. He was a man of God.“ Hm. It's a good book though for beginners, recommended for the daily situations.
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E.C. Rowlands: Yoruba. A complete guide and introduction. The English Universities Press Ltd, Edinburgh, 1969. / E.C. Rowlands: Yoruba. A complete course for beginners. Hodder & Stoughton Ltd, Kent, 1998

In the image you see two versions of the same book, one is the edition from 1969, the other one is a reprint from 1998. Rowland’s book is a hidden gem. I found them online on used book platforms like Abebooks or Ebay. For me, this is one of the best books about Yorùbá language. You cannot compare it to the modern educational publications. This book won’t teach you everyday communication and it is not based on a pedagogical concept. It is more a linguistic study broken down into a language everyone can easily understand. It has the best explanations on various topics of Yorùbá language you are likely to come across in other books, without having them explained there. It has e.g. a chapter about the auxiliary word “fi”, a chapter on “repetition and reduplication”, and “special words” like “ojú, ẹnu, ara, ìdí” etc. Every chapter has an exercise in a traditional sense: a translation from English into Yorùbá or vice-versa. I can highly recommend this book, it can make the work you do with the other books more complete and gives you a deep insight into grammar. All the phrases in this book have been recorded with a native speaker in 1971 on a university. These files were digitalized and circulate in the Brazilian olorixá community, but the recording is not available officially.

EuroTalk Ltd: Rhythms Easy Yoruba. Audible Audio Edition, 2011, 58 min.

This audio-course is good to learn simple phrases and basic vocabulary for beginners. Male and female native speakers pronounce word by word or phrase by phrase and then give you the English translation. You have some time to repeat it and practice the tones. There is no reading necessary and you can combine learning Yorùbá with other activities. I always listened to it on the subway. You are going to learn how to greet people, order a beer or buy some foods on the market. This is a standard set of vocabulary for tourists, translated into dozens of languages by EuroTalk Ltd. Some phrases like “Where’s the beach?“ won’t be very useful, others like “Please speak more slowly“ will help you on your journey through Yorùbáland. I liked the course, by simple repeated listening you can easily learn vocabulary, and it inspired me to publish a phrasebook especially for the needs of olorisha (the first one in this list). “Rhythms Easy Yoruba” can be downloaded in the iTunes Store or on Amazon, for example. Recommended for the lazy people.

Karin Barber: Yorùbá dùn ún sọ (Book One). Yale University Press, New Haven and London, 1985

“Yorùbá is pleasant to speak” is the title of this nice book. It is completely handwritten and illustrated by the author with small, quickly sketched drawings. The book was developed on the university of Ilé-Ifẹ̀ and is a vehicle designed to stimulate the students to speak. The grammatical explanations are very short and many exercises and dialogues are the core of the lessons. The book gives the teacher a rough outline for a lesson, you need to study it with a native speaker. It is good as an additional source when you are just starting to take Yorùbá lessons together with other people and you have someone who can explain the grammar to you. There is also a second book of this series available. Printed by the University of Ìbàdàn today it is sold very cheap for around 500 Naira. Some Nigerian bookshops even ship to Europe or the US.


Felix Ayoh'Omidire: Àkọ̀gbádùn. ABC da Língua, Cultura e Civilização Iorubanas. EDUFBA, Salvador, 2004.

The author is professor of Afro-Latin-American Studies at the Department of Foreign Languages, Ọbáfẹmi Awólọ́wọ̀ University, Ilé-Ifẹ̀, Nigeria and director of the Institute of Cultural Studies. He lived for many years in Brazil where he was teaching Yorùbá (spelled Ioruba there), see the detailed interview with him on this blog. The 313-page book comes with an audio CD, unfortunately I did not get the CD when I ordered the book from Brazil. Published in Salvador da Bahia, the capital of Orisha culture in South America, the book is full of songs and praise poetry and many chapters about music and Orisha that explain various aspects of grammar. It is the only professional Yorùbá course book I know with this focus, very unique. If you understand Portuguese, add it to your collection for the classroom. Recommended!

Kọ́lá Owólabí, Adéjùmọ Àrìnpé et al.(ed.): Jẹ́ Ká Bára Wa Sọ̀rọ̀ ní Yorùbá.Let’s communicate in Yorùbá. A multidimensional Approach to the Teaching and Learning of Yorùbá As a Foreign Language. National African Language Resource Center, Bloomington, Indiana, 2015.

I found this book on the website of the NALRC and ordered it for 40 dollars. I was happy: no shipping fee. When it arrived, I had to pay almost the same amount of cash directly at the door for the delivery. Take care with orders from outside of the US. This is one of the few resources for advanced learners. Except for vocabulary lists there are no English translations. The book has 11 chapters like “ìkíni, lítíréṣọ̀ alohùn, àwọn ọ̀rọ̀ tó jẹ mọ́ ìṣèlù, àṣà àti ìsẹ̀ṣe, ọ̀rọ̀ tó jẹ mọ́ ẹ̀sìn, ìlera” and “ìdàgbàsóké fíimù láwùjọ Yorùbá”. Every chapter is divided into four to six subsections. After perfectly written texts, the exercises start and according to the authors all four language skills are equally considered: speaking, listening, writing and reading. The book is a helpful tool for a professional teacher and not a self-study-book (which would have to cover the listening training with audio files, at least). I like the exercises about proverbs, this reminds me on the tips my Bamankan teacher gave me: learn proverbs and you get to know the culture. And nothing is more funny for the locals than a foreigner trying to master a language, suddenly reciting a proverb that fits perfectly to the situation! In one chapter Ifá is mentioned as the name of the indigenous religion, not Òrìṣà. A popular view today, rooted in the writings of Protestant authors and missionaries. Traditional religion is respected by the authors, I think, and treated like the Abrahamic cults. The chapter about songs has lyrics of a Christian pop song, but not an Orisha song. That’s a typical phenomenon in most of the Yorùbá language books. There are typos, e.g. when English and Yorùbá vocabulary lists, set in two columns, have their expressions in lines apart from each other. As the readers are advanced, they will find the right translation one or two lines below. You can see the modern Yorùbá publishing problems when sans-serif and serif fonts get mixed up in one word. Pages look a bit boring, like “designed” with Microsoft Word. This makes me wonder, why these books at the end, after so much work, never get proofread or set by a professional graphic designer. It could have been a beautiful publication, but with a cheap adhesive binding the 300 pages won’t stick together very long. The book is a heavy middle-format and would require thread stitching, for forty dollars it could be produced in a better quality. “Jẹ́ Ká Bára Wa Sọ̀rọ̀ ní Yorùbá” is a recommended collection of new material. I am looking forward to working with it! 
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Ayọ Bamgboṣe: A Grammar of Yoruba. Cambridge University Press, 1966. Paperback edition 2010

This is a 175-paged reprint of a linguistic study published in 1966 by the Department of Linguistics and Nigerian Languages at the University of Ìbàdàn. It is interesting, theoretic and uses scientific language, talks e.g. about verbal groups, genitival structures, pronoun qualifiers and appositive structures. Definitely no book for beginners, nonetheless a good source if you want to dive deeper into linguistic studies and some Yorùbá language specialities. If you read all the papers about orthography from the author (he was the one responsible for the famous language reform around 1970, I think), you will finally know, that his name should have been spelled Ayọ̀ Bám̄gbóṣé. Let’s save the Yorùbá macron! (A joke for the advanced learners, sorry òòò.) Apropos: The root of the family name is “bá-mi-gbé-oṣé”, literally “help-me-carry-the-double-axe-of-Ṣàngó (oṣé)”, in Brazil written Bamboxê, in Cuba I saw it as Obanboché. Information about family names you can find on yorubaname.com

P.O.Ogunbọwale: The Essentials of the Yoruba language. David McKay Company, Inc., New York, 1970
Ọladele Awobuluyi: Essentials of Yoruba Grammar. University Press Limited Ibadan 1978 and Oxford University Press 1979 (Reprint)

I mention these two books in one entry just to have them in the list. I like them, although they are not language course books but linguistic studies. I use these books a lot, because I love language theory, have to prepare my own classes and enlarge my vocabulary reading all the examples. It helps to understand the principles of a foreign language. The tables of content list chapters like "Interjections, Conjunctions, Subject/Object Function, Demonstrative Nouns, Serial Verbs” etc. Yorùbá is one of the best studied African languages and these are easily available classics. You have to look at these books as historic, today’s explanations might be different.

O. Adéwọlé: Beginning Yorùbá. Part 1. The Centre for Advanced Studies of African Societies (CASAS), Cape Town, South Africa, 2000

This is a handbook for non-speakers of the language. It is written by a linguist from Ọbáfẹmi Awólọ́wọ̀ University in Ilé-Ifẹ̀ and addresses academic students. It has the best and most detailed chapter on pronunciation I have read so far. There is also a second part available, I have not read that one yet.

Clement Odoje and Aquilina Mawadza (ed.): Yoruba Dictionary & Phrasebook. Hippocrene Books, New York, 2019

A small and handy booklet which fits into every pocket, another Yorùbá language publication by Hippocrene Books. The “dictionary” part – a word list – covers 70 pages. Yorùbá chunks and sentences translated into English are printed on 90 pages. The phrasebook is divided into chapters like “accommodations, transportation, food and drinks, health, business interactions, friends and romance”, etc., with basic sentences for daily interaction. While the foreword mentions the high status of Yorùbá religion in the diaspora, the authors completely forgot about Òrìṣà on the page about religion! There are translations given for: “agnostic, atheist, Buddhist, Catholic, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim”. No olórìṣà (no “Yorùbá religion”). The “food and drinks” section has Yorùbá descriptions for: “red wine, rosé wine, dry wine, white wine, house wine, dessert wine, champagne”, all translated with “ọtí” (alcohol) word combinations. In my opinion, if you order “white wine” as “ọtí funfun” you will likely get a palmwine, at least that’s what I would expect in Nigeria. There’s more of this Western or Eastern vocabulary which sounds exotic in Yorùbáland context: “tea house” (ilé tíì), “kosher restaurant” (not very user-friendly translated as “ilé ounjẹ”, what means “restaurant” without being kosher), “asparagus” (àsìpárógọ́sì) and “celery” (sẹlẹrí). Some questions also do not fit the environment, though you can learn interesting vocabulary: “Where is the nearest subway station?” and “Can I have a bus map?” are amongst those. My favorites are the dietary term “genetically modified” and the chapter “At a Spa/Nail Salon” where you can ask for “aromatherapy”, the “sauna” or “acupuncture” in creative translations, which describe what should be happening, acupuncture sounds frightening in Yorùbá. Family members are a difficult language topic. The “nephew” becomes “ọmọkùnrín ẹ̀gbọ́n ẹni”, lit. “someone’s elder sibling’s son” – but what about the “younger sibling’s son”? Unlike in Europe, gender is not the guiding principle, but age. The base for the book might have been a list of words used for different language guide books. It reflects the European way of life. Most of the content are useful standard phrases. It is a book for the learners who want to expand their vocabulary for daily situations. It’s cheap, handy - and very creative in Yorùbánizing some English terms.

Chief Isaac O. Delanọ: Conversation in Yoruba and English, Heinemann Educational Books Ltd, London and Ibadan, 1963

This is a wonderful and beautifully made phrasebook for tourists to Yorùbáland with 100 chapters on “salutations, asking someone’s wishes, giving permission, disbelief, exclamations, at the doctor’s, children at play, in a village, going hunting, going to England, paying bills”, etc. Each chapter has between 10 and 30 phrases. As it was custom in these days, not all tone-marks are given, just the necessary ones and a few more. The tilde was still in use for lengthened vowels. Some phrases are not the standard-Yorùbá of today, that’s why I like this book a lot. Also, the author gives sentences in dialects (Egba), which you will hardly find in other books. Old, but worth searching for!


E.L. Laṣebikan: Learning Yoruba. London University Press, 1958

This is a small booklet designed for beginners of Yorùbá language. It introduces to the basic grammar, has examples of conversations and every chapter gives instructions for exercises - exercises that have to be carried out with your teacher, a native speaker. It's more like a guide book for the classroom. The orthography is from 1958 and not the contemporary standard. It's not very useful, but completes your Yorùbá course book collection. Another historic course. An interesting fact is that the author was teaching Yorùbá language in the 1960s at the Centro de Estudos Afro-Orientais da Universidade Federal da Bahia in Brazil. The so-called “English professors” of Brazil played a role in strengthening the Yorùbá roots in Candomblé Nagô. Thanks to reader and researcher Robson Cruz from Brazil for making me aware of the role this Yorùbá author played in Bahia and pointing me to the thesis of Luiza Nascimento do Reis about this subject!

Antonia Yétúndé Fọlárìn Schleicher: Yoruba Newspaper Reader. Dunwoody Press, Kensington, Maryland, USA, 1998

Wow! One of the main issues of modern language education is the authenticity. Everyone wants to use authentic texts from real life in the classroom, not artificial weird dialogues written only to show a specific grammatical phenomenon. This book compiles 45 texts from Nigerian Yorùbá newspapers, which are set in correct orthography, accompanied by a vocabulary list and fully translated word by word into English! You will find all kind of stories the Nigerians love to read about, a few of them are crazy, like “What Men Love in Women’s Character” or “My Husband Scraped My Hair for a Charm” (these are two different articles). Political news, local news, traffic accidents, culture and music, it is all in there. You will find a glossary with the complete vocabulary list, which has many modern day technical and political expressions. The “Newspaper Reader” can be used for self-study at home, it is a very entertaining resource for language education. I wish there was a newer version, but not even BBC Yorùbá is publishing their texts with tonemarks today. Great book!

Bayo Odusina, Bolaotan Agbonile: Conversational Yorùbá (Including Tonal Music Cord “Do-Re-Mi” Pronunciations). Create Space Independent Publishing Platform, USA, 2012

This is a self-published book sold via Amazon. I guess the authors are the beautiful couple on the cover. At the backside it says “Highly pictorial and fun-filled it is recommended for readers ages 3 and up”. Three years is optimistic. It is more recommended to parents, willing to teach the Yorùbá language to their children, or addresses adult learners like me. The chapters are composed of a vocabulary list printed in huge letters, four words per page is the maximum. I love the idea of vocabulary books based on images, but then you need a huge stock of high quality images and a designer. The Yorùbá writing in this book has tonemarks and underdots. It lacks a precise grammar, e.g. the demonstrative pronouns “this, that” are included in a list of personal pronouns like “we, us, they/them/their”. I appreciate the committed work of the authors, but the book should be improved.


Chief M.A.Fabunmi: Yoruba Idioms. Pilgrim Books, 1970/African Universities Press, Ibadan, 1984 (Reprint)

This is another great book that consists of a collection of Yorùbá idiomatic expressions, edited by Wande Abimbola. I used it to study vocabulary, it is not an educational book per se. Especially poetry like Ifá-verses are full of these expressions and the book deciphers and translates them into English, literally and interpreted. Phrases like “gbé ara dì” are explained, meaning “to prepare hard for something”. Every expression comes with a whole sentence as an example and an explanation of its meaning in Yorùbá, plus translation into English. A very rare book that can improve your poetic and advanced Yorùbá skills a lot!

Defense Language Institute, Foreign Language Center: Yoruba Basic Language Survival Guide, California, 2008

This is one of the craziest language course that exist. Some years ago I came across 300 short MP3 files and a PDF. I was happy finding so many files for free and started listening to the files: “Stop! Dúró!” – “Stop or I will shoot! Dúró tàbi kí n pa ẹ́!” – “Follow our orders!” Ṣe nkan tí a wí!” – “Put your weapons down! Ko nkan ìjà rẹ silẹ̀!” –  “Do not move! Gan sibẹ́!” I was shocked! What would expect me in Nigeria? Later I realized, that this course was originally designed for American soldiers. It also has some more useful phrases, asking for directions, food, weather, housing etc. The files are online to find as “Yoruba Civil Affairs Phrases” or “Yoruba Language Survival Kit” and were included in various apps for smartphones, don't waste your money for these recordings, which can be downloaded for free. Military-related phrases for foreign language learners, based on modules publicly available today from the US Defense Language Institute. Mission-specific vocabulary! Not my mission. Hopefully many of these phrases you will never hear (or use!) on your trip! 
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Antônia Maria Almeida, Gilberto Simões Braúna: Gramática Yorùbá Para Quem Fala Português. Pélú àwọn isuré lati òrìṣà Ṣàngó. Ẹgbẹ́ Ipamọ́ Èdè Yorùbá Ni Basìí (Sociedade de Preservação de Língua Yorùbá no Brasil), Salvador, 2001

This is a nice example of a course book dedicated to the Brazilian community of olorixá, the ones interested in getting to know the principles of their ancestor’s language. It is written in Portuguese and has several chapters on grammar, like “Tonalização, Pronomes, Advérbios, Verbos, etc.” and a list of 110 phrases for everyday use, some of them fit to the Brazilian environment, like “Ṣé o fẹ́ràn omi-dúdu?”, translated with “Do you like coffee?”, literally “black water” (Será que você gosta de café?) or “Mo bẹ̀ ìbùkún fún ìyáloriṣa mi”, translated as “I begged for a blessing for my Iyalorisha” (Eu pedi a benção para minha Ìyáloriṣa). I also like the “Alufa kan lù ni ilẹ̀kún mi” and imagine an upset Brazilian olorixá using this phrase for a Catholic priest or Evangelical pastor (“A priest was knocking on my door”, priest was translated as "um padre", while “alufa” is originally Arabic). Some tone marks are missing. It is a nice, small 120-pages book for beginners to get an idea of the language. It shows the Orisha community’s interest in learning and understanding Yorùbá and is one of the few Portuguese-Yorùbá grammar books. I really enjoyed reading it.


Eurotalk: Talk Now! Yoruba / Instant Yoruba /Ultimate Yoruba. CD-ROM, USB, App

I already reviewed the audio course released by Eurotalk in this list (see above). These courses here are packages which can be downloaded from their website to your PC or Mac, where they will be installed as an interactive program. Various courses exist, like “Talk Business Yoruba” or “Talk the Talk Yoruba”. I have not tested them, because they are rather expensive and the phrases mentioned in the previews do not really interest me. Examples like “My computer crashed and I have lost all my files”, a so-called business phrase, or “I play in the volleyball team” are not the sort of things I talk about when I am in Yorùbáland. Eurotalk offers these courses in over 75 languages, and all of them come with the same sentences. It is great that the company covers many “exotic” languages - but without adopting them to the local environment some phrases do not make sense. Who needs the Yorùbá word for “grapes”, which is translated as an English loanword (grepu), in West Africa? I am sure there are useful phrases as well and they offer a huge variety of courses, e.g. “Talk The Talk Yoruba” is “designed with teenager’s social lives in mind”. I wonder if it is a young Nigerian’s social life. Who wants to study Yorùbá language with a computer program in front of a screen, check their Website.


Abraham Ajibade Adeleke: Intermediate Yoruba. Language, Culture, Literature and Religious Beliefs Part II. Trafford Publishing, 2011

This book with its 290 pages is printed on demand and can be downloaded as an e-book. It is part of a trilogy: Introduction, Intermediate and Advanced Level Yorùbá, I have read just the Intermediate one. I ordered it when I was looking for some new material, after having worked over all the other books in the list above. It has some smaller texts on Yorùbá costums in English language and deals with different topics, some of them I was already familiar with from Nigerian Yorùbá educational school books. This book has a major issue though: it has absolutely no diacritic marks for the three tone-levels nor the dotted letters “ẹ”, “ọ” and “ṣ”. I am wondering why the author, a coordinator of African Studies at Albany State University, is publishing a book lacking these important features. This is a no-go for a Yorùbá study book, so I cannot recommend it. Maybe a Yorùbá speaker does not need diacritic marks or dotted letters, but for a Yorùbá student they are necessary.


Fernandes Portugal: Guía Práctica de la Lengua Yorubá en cuatro Idiomas (Español, Inglés, Portugués y Yorubá), Editorial de Ciencias Sociales, La Habana, 1998

This book was published in 1998 in Havana (and in a second edition in Brazil in 2013 entitled Guia Prático da Língua Yorùbá). It is a course with translations into English, Portuguese and Spanish - too many idioms for one “practical guide”! 140 pages in four languages could be reduced to 70 pages in two languages. In English the author describes himself as a teacher of “Afro-negro Theology”. After starting with an “Agò mo júbá” prayer he dedicates the book “to all who wish to discover your religious origins in the land of the Òrisà”, two lines below he says “this book does not have a religious focus”. The myth that the Yorùbá people were “banished from Mecca and obligated to the west nigerian region, where they ever stay” is the introduction. Even on the first page simple greetings have spelling mistakes, dotted letters and tonemarks are missing on “Ẹ Se O!” or “Ṣe Alaafia Ni?” The second Brazilian edition was lectured and corrected. The book is divided into 26 sections, which cover usual grammatical topics. Single phrases are given, no dialogues, no exercises. There are useful ones, others are like: “Kókòrò ni ọkan/Insects have a heart/Inseto tem coração/Los insectos tienen corazón”. Hm? Is this some kind of proverb? After the sentence “I love you” in Yorùbá comes “Àyà rẹ tobi.” Oh, these Latinos! “Yo puedo golpearte” is translated as “I can beat on you” - “Èmí le lù ọ́”. The highlight is “Èmí fẹ́ràn àwọn ọlọpa USA”, what means “I like USA police!” Does this have a political meaning in a book published in Havana? We’ll never know. When I read “I have a monkey”, “Èmi ní ọbọ”, I was thinking of my Yorùbá teacher and how she would have fun with this phrase. Few people will ever be in the position to state truthfully that they own a monkey, very likely people will understand another thing as a mispronounced “ọbọ” (“ọ̀bọ”): vagina. The new Brazilian edition was improved. It’s a rare book genre, the multiple-languages-phrasebook. I don’t like it.