By Tosin Osasona
The recent transitioning of the revered Oba Sikiru Kayode Adetona, and his immediate public Islamic interment in accordance with the 2021 Ogun State Obas and Chiefs Law has elicited great controversy across Yorubaland. Rightly so, conversations on the place of royalty and culture in our modern world routinely elicit hotly different reactions, be it the questions of the relevance of monarchies in English and Spanish democracies or the vexed issue of gender-equal succession in Sweden, Belgium, and the Netherlands. You can throw in the mix Thailand monarchy’s strict lèse-majesté laws and the issue of freedom of expression and the recent calls for colonial reckoning for European royals. Therefore, Yoruba peoples, proud inheritors of a civilization that has thrived for over a thousand years, should not and cannot avoid these discussions.
The burial procedure selected by the last Awujale raises three key questions, and how well we answer them will shape the future. What should be the ideal frame of Yoruba culture and spirituality in 2024? What is the place of Yoruba royalty in our people’s lives now? Who are the custodians of our traditional stools today?
Cultural purists often invoke the phrase ‘this is our culture’ with conviction. Yet, as Raymond Williams reminds us, ‘culture is one of the two or three most complicated words in the English language’ and a notion fraught with complexity and ambiguity. In light of this conceptual fluidity, what and whose culture is actually being asserted when appeals are made to culture as a foundation of authority?
Unmistakably, however, Yoruba kingship institutions originated within a religious worldview centred on the Òrìsà and their cosmological order. The Oba was historically seen not only as a political head but also as a spiritual intermediary between his people and the gods. The process of enthronement involved elaborate rituals conducted by traditional religious prelates, indicating that kingship was embedded in Yoruba metaphysics. However, how do we frame our spirituality in light of our complex religious experiences of the last 500 years?
The Yoruba traditional religion is polytheistic, recognizing hundreds of Òrìsà, each representing specific natural forces, moral principles, professions, and social institutions. Built on this ancestral foundation is our beautiful cultural worldview that presents a rich tapestry of multiplicity, syncretism, and accommodation, which together underpin the remarkable liberality and resilience of the Yoruba worldview. No wonder our families are an impressive blend of shades of religions and a kinship tie that supersedes competing theologies. Perhaps it’s time to accommodate ‘foreign gods’ in our pantheon, after all, the door is never truly shut.
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The answer to what is authentic Yoruba religion in the 21st century is to look at the history of Islam and the Christian faith across our communities. Islam has had recognizable presence in Yoruba cities for at least 500 years and the Christian faith for at least 200 years. Essentially, Islam has been practiced in some form in Yorubaland even before Ede, Osogbo, Akure, Ibadan, Abeokuta, Eko and some other Yoruba cities were founded as cities—and ditto for Christianity and some other cities. Can we then say that these religions are totally alien in our lands at this point, after their centuries-long influences?
How do we separate their linguistic and social influences from our lives? I think the most reasonable answer lies in the understanding that cultural and religious identities are rarely static; they are shaped, reshaped, and often hybridized by encounters with the external world. In fact, in Yorubaland it is not awkward to organize thanksgiving services for the successful completion of an Ogun festival in a Christian church, or have an Oba launch an Ogun statue in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, or an Oba insisting on having his wives join him at the front row at Eid al-Adha prayers.
Based on historical evidence, there is no authority in our cultural system that rigidly fixes the religion of our kings. Over the last 150 years, both Muslim and Christian kings have ascended the throne across various Yoruba kingdoms. Oba Ali Atewogboye of Ado-Ekiti, a devout Muslim, was crowned in 1836, becoming the first Muslim ruler in Yorubaland. Similarly, Oba Momodu Lamuye of Iwo, enthroned in 1853, was a devout Muslim. Other notable Muslim monarchs of that era include Oba Timi Abibu Lagunju of Ede (1855) and Oba Adeyemi I Alowolodu (1876). Conversely, Oba Frederick Kumokun Haastrup, the Owá Obokún Ajimoko I of Ijeshaland, became the first Christian king in 1896, and Oba Isaac Akinyele was crowned Olubadan of Ibadan in 1955 as a committed Christian and served as the inaugural president of the Christ Apostolic Church. These precedents unequivocally point to a conclusion: royal succession is by bloodline; religious affiliation does not disqualify a prince from royal succession. What is culturally prohibited is the use of royal authority for overt religious proselytism.
While traditionalists have unquestionable primordial spiritual claims to the ownership of the traditional leadership system in Yorubaland, the current religious demography of Yorubaland indicates domination by the two Abrahamic faiths, a fact that has created the current simmering conflict. Undeniably, the continued existence, relevance, and legitimacy of the institution in Yorubaland depend on its wide acceptance across all Yoruba communities of faith. Calcifying kingship rites is guaranteed to result in its death in time per the current religious demography, and unregulated opening up to modernity will destroy its essence and relevance—a complex reality that calls for calm heads and wise solutions. The contemporary throne in Yorubaland is the joint heritage of all Yoruba people; it must therefore reflect the diverse religious realities of its people.
The current contest around Obaship rites invites deeper reflection on their true purpose. These are symbolically unique rites designed for cultural heritage, social well-being, and the acknowledgment of ancestral lineage. While traditional religion provides the framework for these rites, the intent behind them—continuity, prosperity, justice—can be appreciated and upheld by Obas of any faith. The consistent nomination of non-traditionalists as Obas over the last century and a half speaks to our living tradition, one that evolves, accommodates, and honours diversity within unity.
No well-meaning scion of Yorubaland will accommodate the seeming irresponsibility of some traditional leaders cloaked in modernity and/or religious fervour who desecrate sacred tradition. Our shared duty, regardless of faith, is to delineate the permissible bounds of responsible cultural and social leadership. Keeping a delicate balance between the fixed and amenable is the primary key to sustaining the institution. Our traditional leaders should and must accept our people’s religious plurality and only a syncretic royal who identify with all faiths embody the legitimacy and moral authority of the throne. Our thrones are not seats for fanatics of any hue!
As a prince of Oke-Ako Ekiti, albeit permanently with no royal aspiration, and a public policy scholar, I will suggest three pathways forward based on my global reading of royal systems and processes. First, traditional rites must be respected; however, we must create opportunities for modifications for monotheistic candidates, as these rites are the historical foundation of kingship. Secondly, religious accommodation is a principal qualification for royalty in Yorubaland. Obas, irrespective of their faiths, must acknowledge the indigenous customs that validate their throne. And lastly, we must review our current legal and customary frameworks, including the current Ogun State’s Obas and Chiefs Law, to accommodate reasonable concerns, prevent chaotic disputes, and ensure intergenerational continuity.
The sad optics of the struggle for the possession of the mortal bodies of the late Aláàfin and Awujale does more damage to the Obaship system in Yorubaland than the burial procedures themselves and are a reminder of the need to create an inclusive and dignifying protocol that reflects cultural maturity and safeguards collective dignity. Moreover, the subservience of royalty to crass political ends and the politicization of the royal selection process should be of more concern to us than who conducts royal burials.
May Oba Adetona find rest in the illustrious company of our departed ancestors; he surely left Ijebuland better than he met it, and that is all that matters!
