Yoruba Proverbs with Bidemi Ologunde

Olóyè kékeré kì í se fáàrí níwájú oba

Bidemi Ologunde, PhD, CICA

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0:00 | 26:03

Check out host Bidemi Ologunde's new show: The Work Ethic Podcast, available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.

Email: bidemiologunde@gmail.com

SPEAKER_00

According to Yoruba tradition, a young person quoting proverbs in the presence of adults must do so humbly and respectfully. Therefore, in line with tradition, I humbly crave the indulgence of my parents and Yoruba elders worldwide before going ahead with this episode. Thank you for your time. Let's get to it. So the first proverb I have says, Oloye kekere kisefari niwa joba. A minor chief should not act garrulously in the presence of the king. Oloye kekere kifari niwaju. A minor chief should not act garrulously in the presence of the king. So when we first hear this proverb, it may sound very hierarchical to the point of even so severe, but the lesson is broader than palace etiquette. It is really about understanding context. It's about knowing where you are, who is present, and what kind of behavior is appropriate in that moment. So in old olden-day Yoruba political life, courts were highly structured spaces in terms of palaces. So there were ranks, offices, age grades, and carefully observed customs. A junior chief was not expected to dominate the room, to interrupt or speak carelessly before the oba, the king. So that was not merely about power, it was about order. The palace was a place where speech had weight, where words could move policy, settle disputes, or even trigger conflict. So measured speech was a sign of discipline and maturity. So now imagine a young chief, newly elevated, eager to prove himself. He enters the palace and talks too quickly, too loudly, and too often. He may think he's displaying confidence, but elders in the room would see something else: impatience, poor judgment, and a lack of training. So in that setting, restraint was not weakness, restraint was wisdom. So now let's bring that into modern-day life. Think about a junior employee in an important meeting. The CEO is present, senior leaders are present, the client or vendor is present, and someone who has not fully understood the issue decides to speak over everyone, argue noisily, or make jokes at the wrong time. That person may believe they are being bold, but boldness without discernment can damage trust. Boldness without discernment can damage trust. Or think of social media. We now live in a time that rewards immediate reactions. Everybody has a comment, everybody has an opinion, everybody wants to speak first. But this proverb is reminding us that not every space calls for the same voice, the same volume, or the same posture. Wisdom is knowing when to speak, how to speak, and how much to say. Wisdom is knowing when to speak, how to speak, and how much to say. So this proverb is not telling people to be voiceless. It's telling us to be situationally intelligent, to be situationally aware. There is a difference between confidence and recklessness. There is a difference between presence and performance. So the deeper lesson here is simple. Know your station, read the room, and act with discipline. In many situations, dignity comes not from saying the most, but from knowing exactly what should be said. So the next proverb says, Oni etu jin Ola etu jinikon Lerantowa Nibu. Today the antelope falls into the ditch. Tomorrow the antelope also falls into the ditch. Is the antelope the only animal in the forest? Oni etu jinfen. Ola etu jinfin. Etunikon Lerontowa nibo. Today the antelope falls into the ditch. Tomorrow the antelope falls into the ditch. Is the antelope the only animal in the forest? So this proverb is wonderfully sharp. It's asking a question that sounds almost funny, humorous, but it carries a serious message. If one creature is always the victim, always the one in trouble, always the one falling into the same ditch every single day, then perhaps the problem is not only bad luck. Maybe there is a pattern. Maybe there is behavior inviting the same result. So historically, this proverb reflects a deeply communal way of thinking. In many traditional societies, misfortune was not always viewed as random. People ask questions. If the same person kept experiencing the same setback, elders would not simply say, Oh, what terrible luck. They would also ask, What are you doing repeatedly that keeps producing this outcome? So picture a hunter's trail in a forest near an old settlement. Animals pass through all the time, yet somehow one antelope keeps falling into the same trap over and over again. At some point, observers stop blaming the trap alone. They begin to notice the antelope's path, its speed, its carelessness, or even its inability to learn. That is the logic of this proverb. So now let's bring this to modern day life. A person is always in financial crisis, but every few months they ignore a budget, they spend recklessly, they borrow carelessly. Another person says every workplace is toxic, yet they arrive late, they resist feedback, and they quarrel with their colleagues. Someone keeps entering relationships with the same warning signs and then acts surprised by the same heartbreak. So the proverb does not deny that injustice exists. It doesn't say every suffering person caused their own suffering. Life can be unfair, we all know that. People can be mistreated, systems can be cruel, but the proverb warns against living without self-examination. Another modern example might be a student who fails the same kind of exam over and over and over again. Each time, the student blames the lecturer, the questions, the timing, the classroom, even the weather. But eventually, a mentor sits the student down and says, Let's look honestly at your study habits. Are you preparing early? Are you practicing? Are you revising actively or just reading passively? That conversation is the spirit of this proverb. So the power of the saying lies in its question, is the antelope the only animal in the forest? In other words, why does trouble keep selecting you? Sometimes the answer is external, but sometimes the answer is inside our own habits. The lesson is this when a pattern repeats, pause and reflect. Don't just ask why is this happening to me? Also ask, what am I doing that keeps bringing me back to this same ditch? That question can be painful, but it can also be the beginning of change. Oni etu jin. O la etu jintu Lerontowa Nigo. The next proverb says, Oni baja omora. The shameless person does not know what is fitting. The shameless person goes to read a farm and takes his wife along. The husband steals staple yams. The wife steals water yams. Onibaja omura. Onibaja in law sokoli. Okoku akoshu ia u kuwura. The shameless person does not know what is befitting. The shameless person goes to ready farm and takes the wife along. The husband steals staple yams, the wife steals water yams. So this proverb is quite vivid, dramatic, and almost cinematic. You can see the couple in your mind, the man going to commit wrongdoing and not only evolving his wife, but turning misconduct into a family affair. The image is so striking because it shows moral collapse in layers. First, the person lacks shame. Then he commits wrongdoing openly. And then he recruits other people into the wrongdoing. And then the wrongdoing spreads from individual behavior into shared behavior within his own family. So in older Yoruba thoughts, shame was not always a negative word. It could mean a healthy moral sensitivity, an awareness of what is proper, what is honorable, and what should never be done. To be shameless was not to be free, it was to be morally unguarded. So now imagine a village where everyone depends on farming. Farms are not just private assets. They are tied to survival, reputation, and even social stability. So for a man to steal from a farm is already disgraceful. But to take his wife with him suggests something worse. Wrongdoing has become normalized in that household. He's not merely committing a crime, an offense, he's also teaching corruption within his own family by example. So this is what makes this proverb powerful. It's not just about theft, it's about contamination. It's about how a person's bad conduct can spread into the family, into the workplace, and into the community. So now let's consider a modern-day version. A parent lies on official forms and then asks their child to say the same thing if anyone asks. A manager manipulates accounts and invites junior staff to help hide the numbers. A political figure engages in unethical behavior and surrounds themselves with relatives, aides, or loyalists who all begin taking their own share. Soon, the culture becomes: well, everybody around the wrongdoing must participate in it. That is the heart of this proverb. So a historical style example may be a household whose head loses his regard for honor. At first, he cuts corners, then he excuses himself, then he includes those closest to him. Before long, the children grow up thinking dishonesty is normal. The family name, once respected, now becomes associated with disgrace. A modern-day example could be a company where the founder starts by making one false claim to secure a contract. Later on, the sales team exaggerates, and then the finance team hides the losses, and then the operations team fakes compliance. So when leadership loses shame, the entire institution learns to live without it. This proverb reminds us that personal character is never fully private. Our conduct teaches others. Our habits spread. Our values leak into the people around us. So the lesson is clear. Do not make your family, your team, or your community carry your moral failure, and do not become so comfortable with wrongdoing that you can no longer tell what is fitting. A person without shame does not fall alone. They often pull others down with them. The shameless person goes to ready farm and takes the wife along. The husband steals staple yams, the wife steals water yams. So the next proverb says Onibata Kivomosalasi koni lemomunko. The Bata drama does not enter a mosque and ask where is the Imam? Onibata Kivomosalasi koni lemomunko. The Batadrama does not enter a mosque and ask where is the Imam? So this is a proverb about boundaries, place and cultural intelligence. The Bata Drama is associated with a particular performance tradition, a particular kind of public sound, celebration, and ritual context. The mosque represents another sacred place, one governed by different expectations, different roles, and different forms of conduct. So the proverb is saying a batha drama should not walk into a mosque and behave as though it does not understand where he is. At the surface, it's about religious and social spaces, but more deeply, it's about belonging, appropriateness, and respect. Don't enter a place with your own assumptions and then act ignorant of its customs. Know where you are welcome, know how to conduct yourself, and don't force yourself into every setting as if every space exists for your comfort. Historically, this makes perfect sense in a plural society where different institutions carried different rules. Palaces, shrines, family compounds, markets, and mosques each had their own etiquette. To move through society well, one had to read those settings properly. So picture an elder taking a young person through town and teaching them quietly. This is how you greet here. This is how you sit there. This is what you don't say in that place. This is how you show respect in this gathering. That kind of social training helped communities function smoothly. In modern-day life, this proverb still applies everywhere. A person enters a professional space and behaves as though it's a casual group chat. Someone attends a funeral and acts as if they are at a party. A traveler enters another culture and mocks local customs instead of learning them. An executive joins a grassroots community meeting and speaks in a tone better suited to a boardroom, never noticing that the room has its own language and rhythm. Even online, this proverb matters. Different spaces have different norms. What may be acceptable banter among close friends may be offensive in a public forum. What works in one audience may alienate another. So here is a modern-day example. Someone joins a nonprofit organization built around service, humility, and community listening. But they arrive with a hero mentality, assuming they will lead before they learn. They misread the room, they ignore the culture, and offend the very people they hoped to impress. That is the bathadrama in the mosque. The proverb teaches humility before entry. Observe first, learn first. Respect the space before asserting yourself inside the space. And the wider lesson is this wisdom is not only knowing who you are, it is also knowing where you are. The Bata Drama does not enter a mosque and ask, Where is the Imam? So the final proverb says Onifunale Tintete Sheonile. The excessively attentive visitor extends hospitality greetings to the host. Onifunjo tinteteonile. The excessively attentive visitor extends hospitality greetings to the host. So this proverb is subtle and brilliant. It describes a guest who becomes so forward, so over involved, so eager to perform helpfulness that the guest begins acting like the owner of the house. The visitor starts doing what belongs to the host. It's a proverb about overstepping. In Europa culture, hospitality is important. Guests are welcomed, courtesy matters, but hospitality also has structure. A guest remains a guest. A host remains a host. When those roles become confused, awkwardness follows. So historically, you can imagine a visitor arriving at a compound and before long speaking on behalf of the household, directing others, greeting newcomers as if the place belongs to him. People would notice immediately, not because help is unwelcome, but because role confusion signals presumption. Not because help is unwelcome, but because role confusion signals presumption. This proverb wants against taking over spaces, duties, or authority that are not yours. And today, the examples are endless. A new employee joins a company and within days begins speaking for the department without understanding the work. A friend visits someone home and starts rearranging things, disciplining children or answering the door like a resident. A consultant enters an organization to advise, but soon behaves as if the institution belongs to them. Even in families, someone invited to support a situation may quickly begin controlling it. There is also a social media version of this proverb. Sometimes people enter another person's story, grief, celebration, or project and make themselves the center of it. The guest becomes louder than the host. A modern example might be a wedding planner who they hired to assist and then they begin making decisions without a couple's consent, they begin speaking over family members and treating the event as a stage for their own personal style. At that point, the helper is no longer helping. The helper is replacing. The proverb does not condemn initiative, it condemns assumption. There's a difference between being useful and becoming intrusive. There's a difference between offering support and usurping someone else's place. And that is the core lesson. Don't assume other people's functions. Respect roles, contribute with humility, help without taking over. Sometimes the wisest thing a guest can do is to remember that they are a guest. The excessively attentive visitor extends hospitality greetings to the host. So that's all I have for this episode of the Yoruba Proverbs podcast. If you've benefited from this episode, if you feel like this podcast as a whole is adding some value, please and please kindly share the episode, the podcast, depending on whichever platform you are using to listen right now, you can send the podcast to whoever you think might also learn a thing or two. You can share on WhatsApp, you can share on text messages, you can share however you want to share email and so on. So again, um thank you once again for being part of this, which is a learning process for me as well. And like I said in the beginning, a young person quoting proverbs in the presence of elders must do so humbly and respectfully. So I crave the indulgence of my parents, um, Yoruba elders worldwide, as I narrate and break down and analyze these proverbs from my own perspective. And of course, none of these proverbs are definitively translated in one way or the other. The whole concept behind this is to glean the wisdom and the knowledge that our elders keep passing down to us. And this proverb, this podcast is basically doing just that, so that we just pass on that knowledge as much as we can to as many people as possible, especially in this day and age where the younger ones don't even want to learn the language anymore, and they would rather be on social media and so on. So, anyway, thank you so much. Talk to you next time. Bye for now.

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