OníSàngó tó jó tí kò gbọn yẹ̀rì; àbùkù Sàngó kọ́, àbùkù ara rẹ̀ ni.

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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, Onige fileke dopo. Oneke Bagbo Koron filekes. The person with goita offers a ridiculously low price for beads. Were the bead seller to accept our offer, she would have no neck to string the beads around. Were the bid seller to accept her offer, she would have no neck to string the beads around. So this meaning is simple and sharp. Sometimes the best answer to an insulting or shameless offer is a smart response that exposes its foolishness. The proverb uses vivid imagery, as many old proverbs do. The point is not to mock a particular type of illness. The point is to show that some offers are so unreasonable that the answer is already hidden inside the offer itself. So imagine an old market scene in a Yoruba town. A bead seller has traveled far carrying beautifully made coral and glass beads, symbols of beauty, status, and ceremony. A buyer walks up and offers an absurd price, hoping the seller is desperate enough to agree. But instead of arguing or begging, the seller answers with, Even if I accept, where exactly are you going to wear these beads on? In one sentence, dignity is preserved and the insult is returned to the sender. That is the wisdom here. Not every bad faith proposal deserves anger. Some deserve clarity, some deserve irony, some deserve a response so intelligent that it ends the conversation. And we still see this today. Think of a young creative person being told, come and do this major project for free. It's going to give you exposure. And then the creative calmly replies, Exposure does not pay rent. That is the modern version of this proverb. Or imagine an employee being asked to take on the responsibilities of three people with absolutely no pay increase, no title, no support. If that employee says politely but firmly, if the role has grown, the compensation should grow too. That is not rudeness. That is wisdom. The proverb reminds us that dignity is not always loud. Sometimes dignity is one well-placed sentence. It also teaches us not to make insulting offers in the first place. Don't assume another person is so weak, so desperate, or so eager to please that they would accept what you yourself would reject. So the lesson here is twofold. Don't demean people with unfair proposals. And when someone demeans you, remember that intelligence can protect your dignity better than outrage. Sometimes the cleanest victory is not to shout. It's to answer so well that the foolishness of the other person becomes obvious to everyone. So the person with goita offers a ridiculously low price for beads. Were the bead seller to accept her offer, she would have no neck to string the beads around. So the second proverb I have says, Onilenje bindo. The host is eating the fruits of the big bindo tree. But the visitor asks to be treated to some black-eyed peas. Onilenje isog big bindo. Alejo niki wan shown lower ko. The host is eating the fruits of the big bindo tree, but the visitor is asking to be treated to some black-eyed peas. So this basically means when your benefactor is going through hardship, you should be realistic in what you ask of them. This proverb is deeply humane. It tells us to pay attention not just to our own needs, but to the condition of the person in front of us. In older times, especially in difficult seasons, people sometimes survived on whatever was available, wild fruits, gathered food, whatever could carry them through a lean period. If you arrived at such a household and you immediately demanded a preferred dish, you wouldn't just be asking for food. You'd be exposing a lack of awareness, empathy, and restraint. So picture a traveler arriving at a compound after sunset. The family receives them kindly, but what they have is little. Their meal is humble. Maybe the yams are gone, maybe the harvest has been poor, maybe this is what remains until the next market day. Yet the visitor, instead of noticing the condition of the home, asks for something finer. The request is not just unrealistic, it is quite insensitive. And this is what this proverb condemns. Interestingly, this lesson is still alive today. A modern version might be this a friend has just lost a job, yet still helps you with a ride, some advice, or emotional support. That is not the time to pile on expensive requests or unnecessary expectations. Or think of a relative abroad who is clearly struggling, paying bills, still sending money home, trying to survive in a hard economy. Yet every conversation with them becomes another demand. School fees, phones, travel money, party contributions, and so on. So this proverb is asking us: do you see the burden on the person helping you? Even within organizations, this applies. If a team is stretched thin, understaffed, or under pressure, that may not be the moment to demand perfection in things that do not matter. Wisdom includes being able to read the room. This proverb doesn't say don't ask for help. Yoruba culture value supports generosity and hospitality. But the proverb is saying ask with awareness, ask with proportion, ask with empathy. There's a difference between need and entitlement. A wise person notices when the helper is also hurting. A wise person adjusts. Sometimes the most honorable request is a smaller one. Sometimes the most honorable act is to say, I can see things are tight. Thank you for even receiving me. That too is character. Onil je a so big window. The host is eating the fruits of the big window tree, but the visitor is asking to be treated to some black-eyed peas. So the next proverb says, Oni shongo to Jo Tio Bon Yeri. Abuku Shangoko Abukwaraini. The Shongo worshipper who dances and does not shake his skirt doesn't disgrace Shongo but disgraces himself. Oni Shongo To Jo Tio Bon Yeri. Abuku Shangoko Abukwaraini. The Shongo worshiper who dances and does not shake his skirt doesn't disgrace Shongo but disgraces himself. So this one means someone who doesn't live up to what they claim is only disgracing themselves. And it's a powerful proverb about identity and performance. In essence, the proverb is saying if you claim a title, a value, a tradition, a faith, a profession, or a standard, but your behavior does not match it. The deeper truth is that the title remains intact. You are the one who is looking small. So let's picture a festival ground. Drums are sounding, the dancers step forward. One person claims devotion, pride, and belonging, but cannot carry the movement, cannot embody the discipline, cannot match the rhythm. The tradition itself is not reduced by that poor display. The tradition survives, but the person is the one exposed. And this idea is timeless. Today people wear labels everywhere: professional titles, religious identities, social media bios full of impressive words, leader, mentor, visionary, and so on. But the proverb is asking one simple question. Can you dance the dance that matches the name you carry? A manager who speaks about excellence but humiliates his staff members is not disgracing excellence, is disgracing himself. A public figure who constantly speaks about morality but behaves without discipline is not reducing morality. He is exposing his own lack of morality. A student who boasts about intelligence but refuses to do the work is not insulting education. The student is simply revealing emptiness behind that claim. This proverb is also liberating. It reminds us not to panic when unworthy people present good things badly. A bad teacher doesn't destroy learning. A corrupt leader does not destroy the idea of leadership. A hypocrite does not destroy the truth. So the standard remains, but the failure belongs to the performer. So this proverb is calling each and every one of us to alignment. Let your conduct fit your claims. Let your work match your reputation. Let your private habits support your public identity. Do not merely wear the clothes. Move in a way that honors what you are wearing. Because in the end, borrowed prestige cannot save weak character. And names alone do not impress wisdom. Onisiongo To Jo Chio Bon Yeri Abuku Shango ko abukuaraini. The Shango worshipper who dances and does not shake his skirt doesn't disgrace Shongo but disgraces himself. So the next proverb says, Onisweegi bimo, walara ishekwegi. The seller of twigs for firewood has a child and names the child Ayokunli, which means joy fills the home. What kind of joy is to be found in firewood twigs? Oni shekweegi bimo soni ayokunli Ayoolo Walara ishekwegi. The seller of twigs for firewood has a child and names the child Ayokunli, which means joy fills this home. What sort of joy is to be found in firewood twigs? So this one means we shouldn't make too much or very little. Don't exaggerate nothing into something grand. The proverb is wonderfully subtle because it is absolutely not condemning poverty, but it is condemning empty exaggeration. So the seller of twigs is not being mocked for honest work. Honest work is honorable. The problem is the gap between reality and self-presentation. It's the temptation to dress up very little as though it were abundance, or to create a grand story around something that, in truth, is still fragile and modest. So let's imagine a person in an old town whose trade is small and uncertain, basically selling little bundles of firewood. That is respectable labor. But then the person begins to speak as if wealth has arrived, as if the house is overflowing with abundance, as if the future is already secured. So this proverb steps in and says, Let's be truthful. Hope is good, but pretense is not. And that lesson is deeply modern. We live in an age of performance now. People announce victory before the work even begins. A company designs a logo, rents a hall, makes a dramatic launch video on social media, and speaks as if they are already a global empire. Yet there's no product, there's no system, there is no substance. Or someone takes one small step in life and immediately wraps it in oversized language. One meeting becomes a partnership, one photo becomes success. One temporary gain becomes permanent achievement. This proverb wants against confusing appearance with reality, but it also goes deeper than social media. It speaks to self-deception. Sometimes people exaggerate to other people because they have first exaggerated to themselves. Now, this proverb is not anti-joy. It's not saying poor people cannot celebrate. It's not saying small beginnings should be despised. Yoruba wisdom values hope, gratitude, and progress. What this proverb rejects is inflation of image, of language, of ego. Call your season what it is. If you are building, say you are building. If you are struggling, say you are surviving. If you are beginning, honor the beginning. Because there is dignity in being truthful. Ironically, the person who speaks modestly about real progress often commands more respect than the person who speaks grandly about almost nothing. So the lesson is clear. Celebrate honestly, dream boldly, but do not let vanity rename scarcity as abundance. Because when words become bigger than reality, reality eventually speaks back. The seller of firewood twigs has a child and names him Ayokunle, which means joy fills this home. What sort of joy is to be found in firewood twigs? So the final proverb says Unkwe Ninfaula Ojikwe Ki faula. It is the person who does the summoning that assumes heirs. The person subject to summons does not assume heirs. It is the person who does the summoning that assumes heirs. The person subject to summons does not assume heirs. So this one means we should know our place, especially in the company of more illustrious people. Or the person who carries borrowed authority is often the one forming heirs. The person of true stature usually doesn't need to. So this proverb is about social wisdom, humility, and the danger of borrowed importance. So let's picture an old palace setting. A messenger is sent by a chief or a king. He carries a real message, yes. But the authority is not his own. If he begins to speak as if he himself is the source of power, he has misunderstood his position. So that is the spirit of this proverb. Very often, the person who is closest to power is tempted to behave as if power belongs to them. The assistant speaks as if they are the boss. The gatekeeper talks as if they own the gate. The intermediary becomes swollen with importance simply because they stand near someone important. But those who are truly accomplished often have no need for such performance. Real stature usually speaks softly. And we see this everywhere today. A junior staff member gets access to an executive and suddenly starts treating colleagues with contempt. A friend of a celebrity begins to act like royalty. Someone moderating a small online space behaves like a dictator because they have a little temporary control. That's the modern version of this proverb. It's a warning against arrogance built on proximity. The proverb is a warning against arrogance that is built on proximity. Borrowed relevance is still borrowed. Borrowed authority is still borrowed. Borrowed light is not the same as being the sun itself. The proverb also teaches us to carry ourselves wisely around people of greater age, knowledge, or achievement, not with fear, not with inferiority, but with proportion. Humility is not self-hatred, it is accurate self-placement. Know what is yours, know what is not yours, do not inflate your role because you happen to stand near greatness. And there is another side to this wisdom. Truly important people often do not need to announce themselves. They are secure, they are grounded. So if you find yourself constantly trying to project importance, it may be a sign that you are leaning on borrowed status instead of inner substance. So in the Yoruba moral imagination, humility is not weakness, it is refinement. To know your place is not to shrink yourself, it is to stand correctly. Um It is the person who does the summoning that assumes heirs. The person subject to summons does not assume heirs. So today these five proverbs have shown us five enduring lessons. The first one says, answer insulting offers with clarity and wisdom. The second one says, be realistic when the person helping you is also struggling. The third one says, if you fail to live up to your own claims, you disgrace yourself, not the standard. The fourth one says, don't exaggerate little things into grand achievements. And the fifth one says, never confuse borrowed importance with true stature. This is what makes Yoruba proverbs so enduring. They are local in imagery, but very universal in truth. They speak of bead sellers, visitors, dancers, firewood traders, and messengers. But they are really speaking about every one of us, how we negotiate dignity, expectations, identity, truth, and humility. Thank you for listening to Yoruba Proverbs with BDM Logunde. Until next time, may wisdom guide your speech, your choices, and your character. So that's all I have for this episode of the Yoruba Proverbs podcast. Um, if you've benefited from this episode, if you feel like this podcast as a whole is adding some value, please and please um kindly share the episode, the podcast, um, 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. Um, 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.