₦airaland Forum

lastnogood:
Luckily I was with my grandma while liking thru this article. We descend from indentured workers who came from India to Jamaica.

I live in Canada, so this is a round journey, and very ironically I'm expecting a child any day and her father is Yoruba.

Anyways, my mother's family is from Westmoreland , Sweet River to be exact. My grandmother said she was born in maylersfield, but grew up in sweet river and knows bekuta and dean's valley very well. My mother's father family is from that place as well.

I told my child's father that I feel a very close connection to him somehow even though we are from 2 different places. Now I know it wasn't just a feeling!!!

Good luck with your pregnancy and yea i believed we are all connected to each other somehow. Jamaica was not known by most people to have any cultural link with yoruba compare to cuba and brazil so it was a really surprice when i found the article.

Fraud, corruption and waste of resources everywhere but why now? When this administarton almost over.

manie:
e

The project is done by LADOL, the shareholders are institutional investors, foreign investors and Lagos state government. FG came into project in the last minute through NPA, when they saw how viable the project will be due to the scrambling by foreign investors for ownership in LADOL.


LADOL means Lagos Deep Offshore Logistics

http://www.ladolfreezone.com/

Thanks you, i hope this end the conversation.

omonnakoda:
Your mother will talk gibberish till she dies. Do not assume everyone here is your coeval .Baboon

A business can be ANYWHERE the owners want it to be ANYWHERE

Exactly!, its a private business and they only can decide where they want to site thier business.....

This is a PRIVATE business and they can site thier company whereever they like....

More pictures...

tpiadotcom:
^thanks.

i was a bit lost at first.

I felt thesame way when i first saw the article online..lol, but honestly jamaica has suddenly become top of the list of country to visit for my summer holiday....

tpiadotcom:
why did you not add Jamaica to the thread title.

Fixed, thx....

I remember that sometime ago, I made a promise to my readers that I will be reproducing Wole Soyinka’s (Bros Kongi) historical analysis of a slave settlement in Jamaica called BEKUTA. I am with this publication now fulfilling my promise.

The story of BEKUTA as told by Bros Kongi is contained in his book “YOU MUST SET FOURTH AT DAWN – MEMOIRS” published by BOOKCRAFT.

As a lawyer, I know the legal implications of the following: “All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part, in any form”.

What I am doing from today is in total breach of the above. I know however that the Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka a.k.a. “Bros Kongi” will not jail me for this. And neither will he carpet the Nigerian Tribune. It is ever on Bros Kongi’s mind that the Nigerian Tribune was founded by the sage Papa Obafemi Awolowo in 1949. It is equally instructive that Professor Wole Soyinka had the following to say on Papa Obafemi Awolowo on page 10 of “YOU MUST SET FOURTH AT DAWN” while talking on his friend, the late Professor Ojetunji Aboyade:-

“Oje had been my Vice-Chancellor at the University of Ife – later renamed Obafemi Awolowo University after the death of that politician and sage, Obafemi Awolowo, a first generation nationalist of Yoruba stock who never lost his political fire until his death in 1987”.

With the above settled, Nigerians will like the story Wole Soyinka has told about BEKUTA in his book. The Wole Soyinka book is a book that contains all that must be said about Nigeria since 1914. Those who are preparing a centenary celebration of the amalgamation of Nigeria must read this book. It is a book of history. It is a documentation that will make Nigerians know the events of their existence as citizens of the country called Nigeria. YOU MUST SET FOURTH AT DAWN – MEMOIRS of Wole Soyinka is certainly a must read for all Nigerians. I am about reading it again for a fourth time.

We will serialize the BEKUTA story on this page and except for the interlude next week to write about Papa Obafemi Awolowo’s post humous birthday, we will continue with the serialization until we finish with the BEKUTA story in March. I wish you all a happy reading:-

BEKUTA AS TOLD BY WOLE SOYINKA
“In 1990 – in my mental calendar, the Year of Mandela’s Release – when he made Jamaica one of his first stopping points for his reunion with the living world, I made a startling discovery on that same island. If Mandela was retrieving the space of freedom on a global scale, I was also discovering a micro-world that was founded in freedom. Thus did I embark on a pilgrimage that would begin as sentimental, and evolve into a morbid attachment.

The timing of my presence in Kingston, Jamaica, with Mandela’s – even though we never did meet on that soil – imbued my discovery with an indefinable sense of augury. But then, let it be recalled that, like a large portion of the world, I had carried the Calvary of Nelson Mandela and the struggle against Apartheid South Africa on my shoulders for longer than its continental replacement, the horror of an Abacharised Nigerian nation. Apart from participating in the mandatory FREE MANDELA marches, disinvestment campaigns, lecture sessions, a UN anti-sanction-busting commission, etc. etc, I had presented an early student play at the London Royal Court Theatre – the Invention – on the insanities of the Apartheid system. Decades after that production, I titled a collection of my poems Mandela’s Earth and Other Poems and, it seemed the most appropriate gesture, as I prepared for Stockholm in 1986, to dedicate my Nobel acceptance speech to him. (That was the speech in which, to my eternal chagrin, I listed Montesquieu among the contributors to European racist thinking – may the shade of Montesquieu find it in his ancestral heart to forgive that libel!).

To find myself again in Kingston on a lecture engagement in 1990, for the first time in nearly fifteen years, just as the entire city was emptying itself out for Mandela, was already more than sufficient. It was a symbolic gift that I regarded as personal, not shared with the millions of ecstatic hordes that had laboured for, and now celebrated his freedom. To discover a portion of my own homeland in that far-off place at the same time – now, that was a miracle that could only be wrought by a Mandelan avatar!

For it was only on this visit, my second ever to that island, that I was made aware of a slave settlement called Bekuta, a name that immediately resonated in my head as none other than the name of my hometown, Abeokuta. This centuries-wide reunion with my own history sent a tingle down my vertebrae – an encounter with descendants from my own hometown, Abeokuta, on a far-flung Caribbean island, in the hills of a once slave settlement called Jamaica?

The group of slave descendants who founded the settlement, in flight from the lowland plantations, had sought out a hilly terrain that would prove near impenetrable for their pursuing owners, but one that would also remind them of home. They found it in the county of Westmoreland and settled among its rockhills, naming it Abeokuta. Ade Adefuye, the Nigerian High Commissioner in the West Indies had already become acquainted with this history and could not wait to arrange a visit. What was only an academic, though exciting, discovery for him and others was, in my case, a most affecting experience. I found it strange indeed that, during my first visit to Jamaica in 1976, for CARIFESTA – the Caribbean Festival of the Arts – no one had thought to mention the existence of this settlement, or propose that we pay it a visit!

A famous Nigerian, now also deceased, had preceded me on this voyage of a private discovery, I was informed. This was Fela Sowande, a composer, but a totally different spirit from his younger and more famous namesake, the ‘Afro-beat King’ and iconoclast, Fela Anikulapo Kuti. Sowande had been completely overwhelmed – he broke down in tears. This older cousin would exact his emotional revenge on me some years later, unintentionally, for it was his symphony – Obangiji, based on melodies from our common birthplace – which, unexpectedly swarming out of violin and cello stings of the Swedish orchestra on the Stockholm stage, as I moved forward to receive the Nobel award – nearly succeeded in making me a victim of the shamelessness of tear ducts. It was a brief, but tense struggle! The rockhills of origin stood me in good stead but, it could have gone the other way. (The horror of it – the immediately pressed, ribboned and sashed master of ceremonies, the Swedish Prime Consort himself, compelled to lend me his handkerchief!) Really, the Stockholm ceremonials should not spring such surprises on middle-aged susceptibilities!

As the island slowly recovered from the hangover of Mandela’s visit, I could not wait to answer the call of Bekuta. There, I encountered one of my yet living ancestors, the oldest inhabitant of the settlement, frail, as one would expect a being of over a hundred years to be. Now, let no one dare tell me I do not know an Egba face when I see one! The parchment tautness of her face, the unmistakable features of the Egba death-mask, captured so immutably in Demas Nwoko’s painting Ogboni, attested her origins distinctly against any skeptical voices. Not much motion was left in her body, else her body rhythm, I was certain, would have reinforced what her face pronounced. As she became bedridden, she ordered her bed moved to the window that overlooked the rockhills. Now, all she sought was that her eyes would open and close on those rocks, dawn and dusk, until her final moment.

She was the sole survivor of the original settlers. Her voice was still remarkably strong. Did I imagine the unmistakable Egba twang in her Jamaican patois? Of course I did, but what a conceit to let linger in the resounding chambers of one’s head! Oh yes, the real name is A-be-o-ku-ta – never did music sound so tanned, so ancestral in authority – but it gradually became corrupted to Bekuta. I tell them all the time – the name is A-be-o-ku-ta, but how many of them can remember that! They don’t even remember what it means, not less I remind them. I was a child when we came here. When our people dance for you and cook you fufu, ewedu, jogi and other foods from home, no one come tell you that we descendants of slaves from A-be-o-ku-ta. But yes, much has been lost. The government help a little, they come here sometimes, bring visitors, and the local council preserve our history by staging shows every year. We observe the seasons of the gods…. “Sango, Obatala, Ogun”…we used to have a babalawo, but I don’t think anyone remember how to read Ifa anymore… some of the children go away and never return…. In fact, the best dancers are the older ones, they the ones who keep our traditions alive. They teach their children, but the children not very interested. They only do these things when there are important visitors, so I don’t know what going happen when the older ones die off”.

http://tribune.com.ng/news2013/index.php/en/politics/item/5778-wole-soyinka-s-bekuta-1.html

Abeokuta Nature Park

The town of Abeokuta, Nigeria is directly linked to Abeokuta, Jamaica for over three hundred years. This occurred when the first slaves that were taken to the Parish of Westmoreland were brought to this Plantation from Abeokuta, Nigeria. The Park itself occupies 13 acres of land on a hill that was the original Plantation Yard. The remains of the Great House still stand magnificently fashioned from pure cut 2' thick stone. On the property is the oldest swimming pool in Jamaica which goes back three hundred years, with near Olympic dimensions being 71ft long and 47ft wide ranging from 4 to 10 feet in depth. There is a rope swing too!

Mineral Water is supplied to this historic pool and a "Kiddie Pool" via an aqueduct ¼ mile long. Beginning at the riverhead, water flows constantly and ends in two separate waterfalls. The therapeutic value of the Mineral Water has been highly touted in the relief of Arthritis as well as muscle or bone problems due to the concentration of Iron, Calcium, Chloride, Magnesium and several other natural minerals.

The view from Abeokuta Private Nature Park is quite spectacular and breathtaking due to the "bird's eye" altitude encompassing the distant ocean, spreading fields of sugar cane.

http://abeokuta.coolnegril.com/

I know what you’re thinking right now,Abeokuta in Jamaica? How come?

The Abeokuta Private Nature Park is a Heritage, Health and Eco-Tourist Attraction located in Dean’s Valley Westmoreland Jamaica, commissioned on the 5th of January 2003 by the Nigerian High Commissioner, Her Excellency Florentina Ukonga. The 13 acres natural park is a sight to behold, in beauty and with a hill that oversees an original “plantation farm” that was once home to  black slaves some hundred’s of years ago.

At the Abeokuta park is one of the oldest swimming pool in Jamacica,the pool which goes back to over 300 years ago, with near Olympic dimensions being 71ft long and 47ft wide ranging from 4 to 10 feet in depth.
The relationship between the Abeokuta Nature Park and Abeokuta in Ogun State (Nigeria) was a direct link over 300 years ago when the first slaves that were taken to the Parish of Westmoreland were brought to this Plantation from Abeokuta, Nigeria. The Park also has its own “Olumo Rock”, a almost typical size to the one here in Nigeria.

A nature park that stands on its own, in beauty, size and a pleasure to the eyes. Its natural therapeutic value has been why thousands of people all around the world always go to the resort. Among famous Nigerians who have been to the park include, Former Nigeria President,Olusegun Obasanjoand Prof.Wole Soyinka.


http://asirimagazine.com/testtemplate/diasporabuzzthe-beauty-of-the-abeokuta-in-jamaica/

More pictures....

Watch "Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park - Dean Valley Water Works, Jamaica - To book call 877-651-7867" on YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lz4BlKFKdUQ

More pictures...

http://insidejourneys.com/abeokuta-paradise-nature-park/


Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park(pronounced A-be-o-ku-ta*) is located a few yards off the Dean’s Valley Road in Westmoreland. The centerpiece of this rustic eco-tourism destination is an almost Olympic-sized pool which is fed by water that is channeled via an aqueduct from the nearby Sweet River.

Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park took its name from the community of Abeokuta, which in turn got its name from the city in southwest Nigeria. When the Yorubas, who came to Jamaica as indentured workers, arrived in this part of Westmoreland, they thought it looked so much like the Abeokuta they had left behind that they gave it the same name. Abeokuta is part of the old Dean’s Valley Water Works Estate, a sugar plantation that at one time covered 2,200 acres.

Abeokuta’s pool

The estate changed hands many times and eventually became known as Dean’s Valley, which is also the name of the community. The adjoining community took the name Water Works.

I grew up not far from the Dean’s Valley / Water Works area and knew of ‘Bekuta,’ as everyone calls it, but had no idea then of its significance. Later, I would hear that Dr. Olive Lewin, O.D., cultural anthropologist and musicologist, now deceased, had found and recorded the music of people there who spoke an African language. I was intrigued that anyone in Jamaica had preserved their native language and wanted to know more. I didn’t know then that Africans had come to the island as indentured workers after the abolition of slavery.

One night as my mom and I watched a documentary that was based on Laura Tanna’s book, Jamaican Folktales and Oral Histories, she screamed and pointed to the screen. Tanna had interviewed several residents of Abeokuta, and recorded their stories. My mom had recognized one of the interviewees whose name I’ve now forgotten but who I’m sure has passed on.

Abeokuta Finds New Owners

In 1980, part of Dean’s Valley, which included Abeokuta, was sold and two years later passed by descent to Owen Banhan, one of the new owner’s sons.

“Daddy” Banhan

According to Owen, known as Daddy, it took several months for him to clear the almost 15-acre property of thick brush. Once cleared, he and his wife made a surprising discovery — the ruins of the 18th century Dean’s Valley Great House, the pool and aqueduct.

Seeing how the nearby Roaring River Park had been transformed into an eco-tourism spot, the Banhans set out to do the same at the place they christened Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park.

Taking a dip

The Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park was opened officially in January, 2003 by Florentina Adenike Ukonga, who was then the high commissioner of Nigeria to Jamaica.

It was after reading about the opening that I visited Abeokuta and met Daddy and his family. I’ve been back several times, the latest last weekend.

On a clear day, you can see Negril from here

Much has changed as Daddy continues to prepare the property to accommodate the increasing number of visitors and locals who come to enjoy this peaceful oasis with sweeping views of Westmoreland. On a clear day, you could see as far as Negril, which is about 26 miles away.

Aqueduct leading to Sweet River

Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park is garden of ginger lilies, ferns, taro plants, croton, palms, thickets of bamboo, etc. Nature lovers can follow the aqueduct to the source of the river, a leisurely 15 minute walk away. It is from here that they can view the rock that reminded the Yorubas of Olumo Rock, which had provided their ancestors refuge at the other Abeokuta.

Fish pedicure anyone?

For those who can’t or don’t want to swim, the pool offers another option: a fish pedicure. Dip your feet into the water — it’s a bit cool — and an inch-long carp, known as the doctor fish, will begin to feed on the dead skin on your feet. It tickles at first and the fish disperse at the slightest movement, but if you sit still long enough, you’ll enjoy a temporary exfoliating treatment.

Fish pedicure

Abeokuta Paradise Nature Park is open daily from 9 – 6 p.m. It’ll cost you $5 to enter, $4 for a guided nature walk. If you’d like to stay for lunch, that will be another $8, $10 if you prefer to have fish. Prices are in US dollars.

If you want to read more on Abeokuta, check out:

Rock it Over: The Folk Music of Jamaica, Dr. Olive Lewin
Jamaican Folktales and Oral Histories, Laura Tanna

* Nigerian author, Wole Soyinka who was born in Abeokuta, Nigeria, visited Abeokuta, Westmoreland in the 1990s. I remember seeing a video of him on television pronouncing the name, which is how I call it now. I searched online but couldn’t find the clip.

Watch "A Day at Abeokuta Nature Paradise Park, Jamaica" on YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUX-2NplE7A 


https://m.facebook.com/Abeokutajamaica/photos/a.404780909548246.116485.404760172883653/859027847456881/?type=1&source=44&refid=17

MY ROAD TO INITIATION PART 3-AFRICA


The time had come for me to go to Africa for my initiation, I had been aware of the Orishas since I was a teenager, when I had found the book on Elegua, (Elegba or Esu in Africa) but I had not realized, but for a long time that all this came from Africa, which  the Cubans have been great custodians of, to some extent.  After they, as slaves were dropped off in Cuba during the trans Atlantic slave trade, the African holocaust.

 

 

The Cubans have developed their own system of worship and have even infused Yoruba words with Spanish words within their practice or religion which is called Lucumi or as it is commonly known, Santeria. Santeria is also referenced to as Saint worship. When the slaves arrived in Cuba, many were Yoruba’s and they brought with them their religion, their way worship, being slaves they could not practice their religion openly as they had to worship as their en- slavers did and so in order to preserve their practice they had to hide the Orishas into the catholic saints of their slave owners and worship them secretly there.

 

The Orisha they called Elegua, became Saint Anthony, Ogun became Saint Peter, Obaluaye became Saint Lazarus, Sango became Saint Barbara and so on. This allowed the Cubans and also the Brazilians who did the same thing, (theirs is called Condomble) to serve the Orishas without being punished by their slave masters and it also helped them to cope with the horrors of slavery and being stolen/kidnapped away from their home. There are many variations to how the Yoruba religion is practiced in Cuba and Brazil as opposed to how it is done in Nigeria, and now that slavery has been done away with for however long the Cubans still have left theirs as is. Where Brazil has abandoned to use of calling the Orishas Saints, Cuba has continued and have no mind to change or even connect with Africa so that proper correction can be added to their way of practice, affording them to practice the tradition the correct way, so for now we say they do not practice our tradition, it is only similar. For better understanding of what I am saying please read this: Very Interesting Read.

I was excited when it came time for me to go to Africa, the whole affair was very expensive, but I did not care if it cost me the world, I knew I had to get there and I had found the person with whom I was comfortable with to take me. He had talked a good game to me, explaining to me that he would be there on the compound with me and that whenever he took anyone to Africa for initiation he watched over them and saw that they indeed got what they were supposed to without being short changed. By this time I never knew which Orisha I was to receive. A Lucumi Oriete (a male preist within the Lucumi system who did initiations), had told me that I belonged to Yemaya, which is really Yemoja (mother of fishes) the former being a Lucumi word, while the latter a Yoruba word. This turned out not to be so when I went to Nigeria.

I arrived in Nigeria a day after I was supposed to, having being stuck in France for a day due to missing the plane to Nigeria the day before, the journey, if I had not missed the plane would have taken almost 18 hours. It was a very long trip. As we arrived at Murtala Mohammed airport in Lagos Nigeria, the air was hot and sultry, and there were people bustling around looking for their luggage and I, although tired was very happy to be in Africa. The Jamaican Babalawo told me as we were on our way to the hotel where we would stay, that he could just imagine how happy my spirit family, my ancestors, were for me to be in Africa, having been the only one from my family on both sides to ever come back home. I was touched by that. I was brought up in Jamaica where Reggae music was born out of our need to go back home to Africa, out of protest and resistance by the poor and oppressed, and all my life I felt close to Africa because of how our musicians sang of the mother land, and how our elders referred to themselves. I was a proud African, but from where I had no Idea and so I only dreamed of the mother land, I never knew that is was within my destiny to one day go, but here I was driving through the streets of Lagos, I wanted to shout “Africa, I am here!”

The Rastafarian’s looked toward Ethiopia as their home, we heard stories of Nanny of the maroon one our national heroes who came from Ghana. Marcus Garvey, another of our national hero referred  to himself as an African and all of us in all his speeches and pointed us there, urging us to never forget where we came from, teaching us that we were from a great race and of that we should be proud. We in Jamaica were still connected to Africa and it was heard in our music, how we danced, our actions, even our language or rather dialect, also our foods, Dukunu (other wise known as blue drawers, the name is a Yoruba word and the food is prepared the same way). Labalaba  is a Yoruba word which means butterfly, in Jamaica the word Labalaba means, you talk too much, which actually describes the flapping of the lips while talking and the flapping of the butterfly’s wings, “Yuh too labalaba”.  In Jamaica we have Yabba pots, clay pots, Yabba is a town in Nigeria known for their making and distribution of clay pots. Red Igbo (redibo, patois for a browning, someone of light complexion), red for the complexion of a person, Igbo which is one of the major tribes of Nigeria, and also in Igbo land which is the Eastern part of Nigeria, the dirt there is very red. Poto Poto (patois, meaning muddy, or mushy), Yoruba word which means muddy or sticky.  My mother is from a place in Jamaica called Hanover and there you will find descendants from the Egba people from Nigeria who still celebrate to this day Yam festivals, and in neighboring Westmoreland, Jamaica you will find a place called Abeokuta which is the name a town in  Ogun State Nigeria, the word Abeokuta means Under the rock and this is the very town where I received my Ifa.

As we drove through the streets of Lagos, I looked at the faces of the people, trying to see myself in them, some of them stared back at the obvious Oyinbo (white person or foreigner this is how we are refereed to regardless of skin color) who they saw passing through. We arrived at the Hotel, which looked rather like a haggard motel here in America, but it mattered not to me. Anywhere else in the world no one could have forced me into staying at such a run down looking place, here I did not care. Looks mattered not to me, I was here for initiation and that was where all my focus was. We arrived in the Lagos in the evening so it were to be the next day that I was to be taken to the compound where I were to be initiated. See the workings of the ancestors?

We arrived on the compound in the night and as we drove up, there seemed to be hundreds of people waiting for us. When I stepped out of the car I began to feel slightly nervous, the energy was high, almost frenzied, people were singing and the drums were loud. Immediately as I stepped from the car a bunch of people all dressed in white came and held my hands with drummers and singers in tow, singing and dancing in Yoruba as if I were a long lost child who had finally returned home. They led me into the compound, where there were more people who met me at the entrance of the compound, they threw water at my feet and told me to mash it (step in the water, this is how Osun’s children are welcomed, I had no Idea), I did as I was told and was led to stand in front a very dark skinned woman dressed in pristine white clothes, she was heavily pregnant. Standing beside her were other women and some men, all dressed in the whitest white I had ever seen. She raised her hand and the drumming and singing stopped. I stood before her and waited to see what was to happen. A white basin filled with water was placed before me and someone had a bunch of green herbs close by. I observed men and women fully possessed and were being attended to by others. The energy was very high, and the breeze was cool and felt good upon my person. I was amazed of how calm I felt, the nervousness had left, it was as if I was in a familiar place and I had gone through this already.

The pregnant woman who was to be my God mother began to Pray in Yoruba, and as she prayed the woman with the herbs and three others bent down and began washing my feet, while my God mother prayed all in attendance shouted ‘Ase’ and I was told to also say Ase which I did. My god mother broke  Obi Kola nut, which we know in Jamaica as Bisi, (but the nut form), Kola is used as an oracle within our tradition, after the washing of my feet other things were done which I cannot say here or to anyone who is not an initiate. This first step of my initiation went on for a while, after which I was brought into a room, which was also pristine white the walls, the floors, the seats, the shrines, this was Osuns room, and I was dressed in all white by the mothers and prepared beautifully with all sorts of markings. In Africa Osun is represented by white, her color is white. I then was taken outside to Esu”s shrine.  In our tradition whenever anything is done, Esu has to be attended to first, this is so by the order of God who is called Olodumare (Olo-do-ma-ray). I did not sleep that night until morning, the night was filled with the first part of the initiation and I had nine more days to go. While I cannot go into all that was done it was the most amazing thing, beside my first initiation that I had ever been through. I was never left alone and all the mothers and Babalawo’s were very attentive and kind.

The Jamaican Babalawo left me on the compound, he was not there but for one day, but God and my ancestors saw me through and it was all well. I was surprised when I saw that I was being initiated to Osun, since Lucumi had told me, Yemoja was my omo orisha. My God mother told me no I was Osun she had made sure, she said I should be glad because while Yemoja was unforgiving, Osun was very forgiving and so we proceeded. On day nine when they had to give me my Osun name, and also know the path in which my Osun came, Obara Meji came out. I was shocked at the name, because I had heard it way before I came for my initiation, except the word Meji was added, Meji is the Yoruba word for the number two. Obara Meji fell to the earth twice, I will explain this in another post on Odu’s or our destiny, or life path. All in attendance shouted out, happy for me, as the Babalawo’s sang Obara Meji’s praise. I wondered why everyone was so happy for me and so I asked, they told me that if a thousand people came for initiation maybe one would get Obara Meji. My God mother who over saw what was going on seemed to be very happy for me also, but I was to later find out that she would become an enemy, all because of Obara Meji. Within the Odu Obara Meji, it is warned that anyone who was born of Obara Meji would eventually be separated from their God parent or parents, of which the woman initiating me was and also the Jamaican Babalawo, bare in mind that he was not there at the compound with me while I was being initiated and I will one day post his story. The woman has since died, almost two years after I was initiated she died. I was given an Osun name and also Obara Meji was now my Osun. Padrino I did it, Yay!

I then went to Abeokuta for my initiation to Ifa, where I would receive my Ifa which is the name of my destiny. This name, my Ifa name I cannot make public, I was told why I came to earth the reason I came into being, who my parents were to me and I to them, why I had chosen the family I had, and also the role of which my children played into my life, I was given the do’s and don’ts in my life called my taboos and more. I was given a life reading called an Ita,  many Sacrifices were done during this initiation to remove a lot of bad which had been done to me throughout life and sacrifices done to clear my way in life. It was a great Journey, and I am happy that two of my children have already gone through it, this is my gift to them, their legacy, something worth more than gold or trillions of dollars, I fear for them not in life, they have Ifa!. The story continues of my journey. Here in Abeokuta I met my God father in Ifa, his name was  Oluwo Okegbemi, he was 126 years old when he initiated me and never looked a day over 70 years old, a great Babalawo and what he did for me he did well, he has since made his transition, he did so at age 130, but he came to tell me after he left.  Iba Oluwo Okegbemi! He watches over me, this I know. I will speak more about him in another post, but a kind and sweet person he was. I salute him where ever he is in time and space.

Ẹni tí ò gbọ́ tẹnu ẹ̀gà, ló ńsọ pó ńpàtótó, tẹnu ẹyẹ, lẹyẹ kúkú ńsọ. /
Those who didn’t hear out the palmchat bird would deride it as a noisy bird; but it no doubt has its point….Yoruba Proverb!

[People invariably have their reasons (for their actions), give them the benefit of doubt.]

 

All religion are valid as long as it teaches peace and love….Obara Meji

MY ROAD TO INITIATION PART 2


After I had gone through my first initiation, the three years I spent at home under the tutelage of non-physical beings sent from within time and space to teach me and take me on my journeys, the world seemed to make more sense to me. One day at a time, I saw people differently, I saw their true colors so to speak, and I feared no one or nothing. I had become re-educated, to all I thought I knew, during my training. All that I believed I knew were stripped away. Before I go further with this story, I want to share something with you. There were many times when my spiritual elders (Spirits) came for me to take me on my journeys, as I slept they would come and my spirit would rise up from my body and go with them and it was so swift that one minute I was in my room and the next in some other realm.

 

What I noticed when these times occurred was that as I hovered over my body, I had no concern about the body which laid atop the bed. The human emotion which someone would naturally have in seeing themselves outside of  their body (fear) was not there. I was curious in these moments, but  feeling of being sad or anxious of leaving my body and probably never coming back to it,  never once happened.

 

This feeling made me question one of my teachers one day, (non physical being), when I was able to communicate with them, please note, that our communication was always done through the mind. I asked her why was it that when I left my body and was aware that I was no longer apart of the body I did  not seem to care since the action mimicked death . She went on to explain to me that there is no death, and that our spirit when we make our transition fears not the journey because it is expected. Spirits who panic, and there are some who do, when they leave the body are the ones who are now earth bound, because they made their transition through trauma, in other words, their destiny was cut short, which has set the spirit who is the driver of the body off course. This does Occur in some peoples lives and the reasons maybe many, Obeah, Witchcraft or someone can cut their own lives short by offending an innocent, someone who did good for them and they did bad in return as in the story David Part 2.  Someone who went to the shop and is gunned down, when the spirit separates from the body, (for some not all, I will soon explain these kinds), it is shocked that it cannot get back in, not because he went to the store and is expected to return home, but because the spirit knows that it has met an untimely death, which is not in support of its destiny. For the ones who have met trauma and their spirit goes off happily, even through trauma, this is in full support of their destiny, they chose this way to leave the earth.

Please remind me to do a post on the MISSING MALAYSIA PLANE, I do not know if you all are ready for me to open this up to you, explaining the different things which are very possible (POSSIBLE), but if my Ori directs me to, I will tell you all about this Plane crash and that it is possible that these people, all of them are still alive.

 

My senses heightened and I saw everything, magnified. I would walk down the street and see someone walking toward me, and then I would see their spirit run across the street and stopped before a moving bus, and the bus would hit them,  almost like a video being played before me. I would come back to myself after this flash and still see the person coming toward me, but now I had the feeling to reach out to the person and tell them that God loved them and that they should please rethink what they planned to do. At first when these things were happening, I tried to resist warning people or giving random people messages, because I feared rejection and that people would see me as insane, but I was urged on by my Ori and when I did gather the nerves to reach out to people, I was met with warmth, and thanks and given nuff respect, my trepidation were all for nothing, and I began to grow more confident day by day.

All which I had lost during the battle with the children’s father was restored. After my three intense years of training where I emerged anew and refreshed, my family heard of the things that were going on with me, they heard about people coming to me, seeking help and getting  it, they heard of my divination skills and the accuracy of it. The sun rose up out of the earth and was shinning everyday in my direction like a spotlight on stage and all the whispers behind my back which said that I was mad, shushed! People of all professions and ethnicity sought me out, they traveled from far and wide to see me, they had all heard about me through another, it was by word of mouth that people knew of me, and they came, not one by one but in droves. Soon I went for my two children which the wonderful Nanny had been caring for, and I brought them home to join their other siblings. And the work continued, during these times I was given another salon by clients who loved me and were happy for my help to them and their family. My new salon was bigger than the one the children’s father had given to me, but because of the demand of me as a spiritualist, I hired workers and would only go in the shop two times a week when I was in town, I traveled often.

The wicked father heard of this shop and he came begging and I gave him, I did not refuse him, I gave him money which he asked for to pay his car notes, he had fallen on hard times, I assisted him, soft hearted  as I was, I helped him, until a very wise old man told me to stop. He told me that God was giving him his judgement and that should I continue to give to him, then I was interfering with God’s work, so I stopped. My parents began coming around, and they came when they worried about something, I would divine for them and whatever God showed me I would reveal and we worked it out. The wicked sisters did the same. Just before I had gone into training the message was “Seek Ye the Kingdom of God and all his righteousness and all these shall be added unto you”, After I was taught and I began my work all that I thought I had lost, all that I believed would never be, became more than what I expected. God lifted me up and seemed to shout “This is my daughter in whom I am well pleased!”, lol, I said seemed as if.

I began keeping medium sessions at my house, my Padrino was a medium and would often times have Misas, or a Spiritual mass where he would invite spirits to come and speak through him, and they did and when this happened many truths would be revealed and also solution to many problems would come out. During one such session, I was told by him that one day I would sit in his chair doing the same thing. The time came and there I was every weekend having these sessions, where many people would come and I would sit and pray and spirits came, where they would use my body as a host and speak. Let me pause here to Salute my sweet and Wonderful Padrino,!

Padrino, my eyes mist whenever I remember you, I love you and I call your name every day. It was through sorrow and problems why I met you but meeting you turned it all into Joy and happiness, because what an amazing person you were while you lived here, I am now called Obara Meji, and am an Initiate in the Ifa/Orisha tradition as you once told me that I would be, and many of your predictions for me have been full filled. I have passed along some of what you taught me, to my children and to others, your work here was not in vain Padrino and I pray that I, in my lifetime and with all that I share, could impact others as you did with me, I am paying it forward, I hope you are proud of me. I thank Olodumare (God) for allowing me to know you in my life time and I thank Esu, your Omo Orisha who brought us together.  I love you sir, always, and one day, a ways far off, when the mist have rolled away my sweet Padrino, we will see each other again.

During these sessions many spirits passed through me and saved several people lives, giving messages regarding their health, they checked with their physicians and found that they had problems which were corrected with surgery. In these sessions people were warned of imprisonment and of danger, people were told about jobs which they sought and how to get them. One woman had an inheritance from a Aunt in North Carolina, which she did not even know about, when told through me by a messenger, she checked it out and although it took months, she received $25, 000.00, she never knew she had. These sessions as I called them were done by me to try to raise the vibrations of others. Normally when people did these kind of intense affairs, it was for the spirits passing through the mediums to give their messages, but I had since realized that my portion was beyond that. I had gotten gifts of everyone. Every Spiritual gift which could have been given to me, I received. I quickly realized that whenever a person came into my space, they left knowing something new, I taught them something new. That drew people to me, whenever I spoke people listened, and I saw myself in the role of a teacher.

I knew things which I did not know how I knew them (can you say tongue twister? lol), and I found myself when speaking to people saying that I was a teacher. That was what I titled myself. In every area of my life, I taught. I went into teaching mode whenever I spoke to anyone, often times unaware of it. It was natural to me, knowledge of almost everything. I was a book nut, and so I lived in the libraries and book shops, sitting on the ground if there were no seats to sit, and reading all and everything while growing up and after the Initiation I searched for things I knew in books, and here I was alive and awaken and doing my work according to my destiny but I saw myself as a teacher, a teacher of metaphysics. I was firm in that knowledge, and after a while I realized that the big black book, was actually “The book of life and all things”, at least that is what I called it, because whatever I needed to know, what ever I pondered upon came to me from within me. The knowledge was embedded within, like the heart fitted and seated in the chest of a person. I began to take a curious look at people, skeptics, Christians and Muslims who denounced spirituality, denounced spiritual workers and healers. Pastors and priests who warned people away from us, cussing us and damning us all to hell, and I felt sorry for them because I quickly realized how deep in slumber they were and severely imprisoned with no possibility of parole or release, perhaps. The sessions had saved many, divination had steered people into the right direction of their lives and helped them make life changing decisions and even comforted some, and the knowledge gained of herbs and plants had cured many ailments, how were we the bad guys?, Obeah workers, Juju makers and witches, Satan’s disciples, host of demons. Jesus beloved as he were did our very same work, yes he did, as well as the prophets of old before him.

After my first initiation I learned many things and I taught a lot, but I yearned for more. I had already made up my mind that I had to go to Africa for initiation but I allowed my Ori, to tell me when. I was patient, and that was not easy for me, I am an Aries and we are not known for our patience, but making the trip to Africa was one that I knew I had to do, but who would be the one to take me, who? I had traveled to Jamaica and by chance met a celebrity there and ended up giving him a reading where he was told that one of his many brothers would die within three months of the reading. He was very sad at hearing this, although the spirit did not say which one of the brothers would die, the message was that the person would have a fatal car accident and told the month exactly. I am being very careful in telling the story as this person is extremely well known. After he was given this revelation he asked if it could be changed and was told yes, and so he asked me not to leave the Island and he would get back to me, I agreed. I waited around for a week and only received one phone call  from him telling me that he would soon come.

One night while asleep, I had an experience, I jumped from my sleep, an associate of mine was there with me, and I began to cry uncontrollably, she came over to me from where she slept and asked me what was wrong, I found myself telling her that my husband (spirit husband) visited me while I slept  and told me to go home, he said the person was not coming and I had no time to waste here, there were plenty things for me to do on earth and a short amount of time to do it, he told me to leave. I cried because whenever I was visited by this person, and the visitation ended, I felt alone and empty. I needed him to linger for a while. So I left Jamaica and went home, back to America. Two weeks after I was home I heard a voice from far off calling out a name I was unfamiliar with, but I heard it clearly, the name was Obara! I cannot tell you what gender the voice belonged to, but it was as if the person shouted from very far Obaraaaaaaa! Obaraaaaaaaaa! Obaraaaaaa!. I asked my children if they heard it and they said no, no one heard the voice but me and it called me for one month. I was curious as to what Obara was, and there were no information on the internet at that time when I heard it. I was not bothered at the thought of hearing an actual voice, I knew it was a message, but it seem to come from a very far place. I had no idea Obara called me from Africa and I was not far form meeting her, she who was with me from birth, she who selected me to come back to earth, she who was my mother, she who was my Osun, Obara was clearing the way for her precious child to come home, although she knew me I knew her not and she was tired of waiting for me, she needed me to come home, Obara called me .

During these times when the name was following me everywhere, someone introduced me to a Jamaican Babalawo, and I told him about the name, he explained that Obara was the name of an Odu Ifa (Oh-doo, ee-fah, binary coded language).  It was to be him, this Jamaican man who was to later take me to Africa, Lagos Nigeria for my full initiation. The Jamaican celebrity called, his brother had died, same way, same month as predicted and I had to go to Jamaica because he had much problems, but this set the course for me to go to Africa, because before I went and meet Osun there in Africa, I had to go home and pay Homage to my born land. Roaring River summoned me, I had no Idea of what Roaring River was or where it was, but when you are being guided you must trust, and when the vision came that I had to return to Jamaica and bring Roaring River an elaborate gift, I did not know how or when to go, but the celebrity called and desperately needed my help, it provided a way for me to go. I went to Roaring River, with an elaborate gift, and the celebrity in tow, lol. I had no idea then but Jamaica, land of my birth, wanted me to visit her lush clean water and salute it before I went to Africa, Jamaica paved my way and blessed me for my journey. I had no Idea that I was from the water realm and that Osun was my Orisha, and that Osun was indeed Obara Meji by the route which I took spiritually to get here to this realm but I was to find out in Africa when I got there. I was to find out why I chose the parents I had, and what was my destiny. In Africa and within my initiation I finally realized the reason why all the things that I had been through happened. In Africa I found Me!

Part 3 will be along tomorrow

This seem as if it may be a series!

Nǹkan tí èyàn ò ní jẹ, kì í fi run imú. /
One should not be sniffing, what one would not eat…..Yoruba Proverb!

[Don’t start what you can’t finish]

 

All religions are valid as long as it teaches peace and love…..Obara Mèjì!

Growing up, I had never heard of the Yoruba people of South Western Nigeria, and I certainly had no idea that I would ever travel to Africa in my life time. It is the hope and dreams of every Jew through out the world to travel to Israel and also the same for every other Ethic groups born outside of their ancestral homeland to one day go.  While some Africans throughout the diaspora may have an urge to do so, not many do, even if they have the means to do it, they do not go. The world’s descriptions of Africa and Africans through all sorts of public medium has affected our dear land so negatively, that even though we brag about our color and of our race “Say It Loud, I Am Black And I am Proud”, most blacks are proud just to say it “Loud”, but have nothing to do with the Land from whence their forefathers came, as a matter of fact they are ashamed. There is a song which quotes a line, “Can a mother’s tender care cease toward the child she bare”? Africa, (Alkebulan, the original name for Africa), awaits her children’s return, even if it is just a visit, while the child may forget the mother, the mother will never forget her child.

 

 

After the wicked baby father and I broke up, I was on my own, really on my own. It was very frightening for me and I cried and cried for days and weeks and months. I was very young, I had all my children with me, (I began early) and I worried what would happen to me, how would I survive, how would I live down the shame of losing my business, him being with this other woman in the same town where we all lived. Even though I ended the relationship, people would say HE left me for her, and everyone knew of our quarrels and battles, it was a small Jamaican Community and I was a very popular hair stylist. I was well known, now everything crashed! During those times, I did not know that a chapter of my life had closed and that I was heading toward another. Heading toward the direction of my REAL life, which were to have many chapters, and even became more intense, with the exception that I were to have more control after I had learned most of what I needed to.  No humans would be able to hurt me as much again. The years before, when I battled family and the big bad Wolf and the Wicked baby father and the enemies who seemed to pop out of nowhere like when playing Super Mario Brothers on Nintendo.

It was almost as if I had to clear out those cobwebs, encumbrances of life, while in the process of having my children one behind each other, before the real living began. Before I came to live on this earth plane, it seemed I had planned for me to have my children early, begin my life young, have a whole lot of life experiences under my belt, in other words live the life and experience of fifty people in order to speed up everything and get me to where I needed to be, quickly. Every thing was planned out for me and with the approval and assistance of the Universe. What I thought was my hell would turn out to be wonderful bliss, a source of comfort and a legacy for my children who I cared the most about in life. What I went through, in all the posts which I have written about here on Embracing Spirituality was God’s doing and that of my ancestors and my spiritual guides, and also my Omo Orisha Osun and My Ifa, and through it all, although my human mind felt pain and suffering, my spirit was being taught, groomed, loved cherished and elevated all at the same time. I was in school as we all are, but I was being trained by my spiritual elders to become Obara Meji. What a wonderful thing that happened to me!

I went through a grueling time when I was becoming awake, I will spare you all the details today, and just recount a few, for to me to tell all, time would not allow. There is a Showtime Series called Penny Dreadful, where you will find a character name Vanessa Hives, her awakening, or what she experienced during her awakening is similar to what I went through, so much that it is quite hard for me to watch. There are exceptions however for me in her story, where in which her awakening stemmed from a very Salacious encounter, mine was not, she had to be locked up in a padded room in a straight jacket,  although there were times where I worried that I would get there, I thank my ancestors that I was spared that, and she now works although unwillingly with the Devil, el Diablo, (this is a T.V show) I do not, how could I? he does not exist!

While I went through my awakening, there were times in the mornings when I would wake up and there was a huge black book thrust under my chin and I found myself reading it. My eyes moving like heads at a tennis match, left to right and right to left, fast. There were bold black words on crisp white pages which seemed like English words, but I was never sure. I never saw who placed the book there, only that I sat up in my bed and read this book which was the biggest book I had ever seen, after which I remembered nothing. I later learned that the knowledge I acquired there, I was to use  later on in my life, just not while in school. Now I know you are all wondering in which state of being was I while this was happening, and I will try as much as I can to tell you, although the words I will use for the proper description escapes me or rather I cannot find. I would see myself laying on the bed, these things would happen around 5:30 – 6 am in the mornings. It were as if I hovered somewhere and watched me sit up with my back against my pillows and then I would find myself in my body while someone or something who I have never seen thrust this book under my chin, and the reading began.

While these things happened to me, it took three years to complete the book. I think it was completed, although I am uncertain, but within the depth of heart says it was. The first year when it began, I lost my speech, or rather I lost the ability to speak English or Patois. My whole body was weak and I needed help to get out of bed, I could not eat regular food, so the children’s nanny fed me a diet of cooked calaloo and liver water, boiling the liver and giving me the water to drink. Wood root tonic helped along with Vitamin B6 or 12. Whenever I tried to speak, another language came out, all kinds of languages.  At first I struggled to accept that I was not losing my mind, until the nanny assured me that if I were I would not have any idea of the fact. During these times, it was at nights while all slept that my teachers came, all non-physical beings, and I laid alone in my room, lights on, afraid to turn them off  and afraid to go to sleep, because I knew the moment I slept, I would be taken on journeys all over the world and within time and space and meet many people there.

It was on these journeys that I learned the uses of herbs and plants, it was on these journeys I learned how to diagnose an illness through spirit, it was on these journeys that I realized the power of the river and that that of the Ocean and of the wind and of lightening and thunder, and on these journeys where I realized that we, all of us in the world were all connected and were no different from each other regardless of our skin color. It was on these journeys I realized that nobody died, ever! It was on these journeys I knew that there were many worlds, It was on these journeys I became awake, fully awake. For three years, I went through some intense training which in the first year made me weak and almost unable to get out of bed, after which my language changed, this was when I was being trained in becoming a medium, a source through  which spirits could pass through and speak, give messages, warn, prophesy, so the language which I was familiar with was removed from me and I was taught other languages. I knew it not then, and it took a long time for me to realize that this was why I had lost the ability to speak the English language at the time. Within the third year I had regained my strength, the Nanny had gone back to Jamaica where she took two of my small children to care for until I could manage, I was still in training, but I was stronger and my language had returned and also people were being introduced to me by others who I knew. Real people who knew me or even lived with me at one time or the other would contact me via the telephone, where I would pray for them and as I prayed, their whole lives would open up to me.

I could see them, where ever they were, I saw them. I saw what they wore, their house or apartment, I saw their aura, and I heard what they thought, I saw their professions and their children, I saw their whole lives and while in prayer I would tell them all I saw, if they were to die, I saw their death or the death of whom they loved, I could tell the time and hour in which death would come, and I could speak to death and appeal to it to give another chance, I did all these things. It was as if I were in a trance when all these were happening, and when I came out of the trance, I remembered nothing. My name began to spread, and people sought me out, people far and near heard of me and I struggled to believe my new life. I became a reader and diviner. I had no idea while  I grew up that this was what I would become. I knew not that this were to be my destiny, the reason I came into being, or one of.

Here I was a spiritualist having gone through an initiation, which lasted for three years, formally, because I was being prepared since the day I was born unbeknownst to me. I went to the sea and did rituals there, honoring the Ocean and the deity which resides there, who I had met on some of my many journeys during my initiation, I went to the river and did the same, I would go to the woods by myself, unafraid and honor the spirits there as I had met them all. I built an altar, which my Padrino had instructed me how to, and I honored my ancestors there, and I settled into my life as who I had become. I realized that I had the uncanny ability to explain almost everything as it relates to spirituality and metaphysics, (the big black book) I knew what many did not know. I began to search books hoping to find in them things that I knew for sure, and although some books began well, they would always fall short of something. Theosophy spoke to me, and I loved Alice Bailey’s work and Madame Blavatsky, Rudolf Stiener, and also Gurjdieff’s, among others. Dr. L. W. de Laurence made sense to me and I giggled at times at the fear the mere mention of his name drove into many people, Jamaicans especially and I respected also the likes of Eliphas Levi. I knew a lot, but not enough and I wanted to learn more.

I knew how the Universe worked, I knew about the nine dimensions within space and time and all the realms within. The greatest discovery throughout my journeys was the realization that the Devil did not exist, and that there were many like Jesus who came before, I met them, including him. I realized that no spirit being or entity ever met what we called God, it was an impossible fete, no one dared meet the All, no one! It was possible to be in his presence, and to the light beings, those who worked within the realms of spirit, to go close but to behold the Lord, Impossible!  To do so, that spirit or being, deity or entity would cease to exist, cease to exist!  I realized that we were all fragments of this great All, a tiny speck of his form and to meet this great being, or come into its presence would mean to be absorbed back into it, as when a sponge meets water, sucked into its form and be no more. I realized that God created Good and Bad, and they were all created for their specific purpose, I realized that God had no adversaries, none. I realized that I was special and had my own claim to being special as with all of us and that madness as we see it, insane people were well but operating off a different frequency than us here in this dimension, these people were too high to live among us, they were spirit beings who could not function in our world. I realized so many things but of them, the most important was that I self realized!

No turning back, I self realized and there was no turning back, only pushing forward. I knew that I had further to go, but to where? I had no Idea. Within my journey and with all the books that I read, I did not see the African I represented. He was not present in the Bible, or the Bhagavad Gita or Vedic scriptures, The Torah, The Koran, The Kaballah, within the texts or subjects belonging to Theosophy, or among the ascended Masters, there but only one was represented and his name was Afra, (lol, go figure). Written out of life and all the holy books was my father, my mother, my sisters, my brothers, my ancestors, myself. I knew this not to be so, and so I began to search there. I remembered the book on Elegua which I found in my teenage years, and Mr, Mitchel telling me that it belonged to the Cuban traditional religion, but when I searched further, I realized that Elegua was indeed, Elgba, Esu (eh-shu) as he is called in Africa, an Orisha. I realized that this all came from Africa and that the Africans had this whole philosophy concerning all of cosmology and creation, I heard Angels sing, as I found my family. I had known this but not in great details. Padrino had given me snap shots of it but there were no literature to be found coming from the African on this tradition, they kept it sacred. This was the true beginning of my life, I had been born again, the first initiation during  the three years I was in training, I was born of Spirit, the second initiation came when I went to church and became baptized, I was born of the water, and of the blood would come when I went to Africa. I had no idea that I would go, no idea that I had more initiations to do, I had no Idea that in Lagos, Nigeria Obara Meji waited for me, with folded arms, Obara Meji waited patiently, knowing that her daughter would come, and soon.

I will continue this story tomorrow.

Ẹni tó dúró tini nígbà ìpọ́njú ni ọ̀rẹ́ òtítọ́.

Whoever sticks with one through tough times is the true friend….Yoruba Proverb!

 

All religions are valid as long as it teaches peace and love….Obara Meji!

 http://embracingspirituality.com/2014/07/02/my-road-to-initiation/

Great job my future president...

rman:
Necessary Steps To Secede:

* All Igbos from all over Nigeria move to Biafra
* All Igbos should reject any elective post or position that encompasses Nigeria eg Ministers.
* All Igbos should immediately refuse participation in anything termed Nigeria including sports.
* All Igbos should stop spending the Naira
* Those married to other tribes in Nigeria should divorce them immediately
* Certificates and other documents obtained under Nigeria should be declared non and void.
* All Igbos should leave Nigerian Army, Navy, Airforce, Immigration, Police, Airforce and other paramilitary forces immediately.


.....if they can do all these immediately, the world will start taking them serious.

Spot on...

B69U:
The stage is set for the final show down, all the chess pieces are in position.

lalasticlala do the honours, fp please!

Whatever!!....

Watch "Meeting of Orisha Shrines in Trinidad" on YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4Mrn3jkjJ0

quimicababes:
Nice.I have watch the Osun Osogbo festival in Osun State and it was nice.I realized quite a bit of foreign Ifa folks participated in it.I am not an Ifa follower but places like Osogbo and Ile Ife and African museums I would totally be willing to visit.

I think they need to improve facilities..paved roads,not big hotels if they can't afford it but little bed and breakfast sheds like we have in the Caribbean that is supported by Osun indigenes.Selling Yoruba foods etc.Quite a bit of Black folks are interested in reconnecting with Africa and Yoruba culture is ripe to tap into that yearning.

When tourists come to Naija or anywhere else they usually prefer to experience the country's culture with modern conveniences.White folks prefer our bed and breakfast and eating our local foods when they visit here once they can get the modern conveniences such as water,electricity,internet etc.

Yoruba language is taught here in Trinidad where I am from.

Example of a bed and breakfast here in the Caribbean.They use Amerindian architecture btw which uses trees for roofing as in African cultures.

quimicababes:
Nice.I have watch the Osun Osogbo festival in Osun State and it was nice.I realized quite a bit of foreign Ifa folks participated in it.I am not an Ifa follower but places like Osogbo and Ile Ife and African museums I would totally be willing to visit.

I think they need to improve facilities..paved roads,not big hotels if they can't afford it but little bed and breakfast sheds like we have in the Caribbean that is supported by Osun indigenes.Selling Yoruba foods etc.Quite a bit of Black folks are interested in reconnecting with Africa and Yoruba culture is ripe to tap into that yearning.

When tourists come to Naija or anywhere else they usually prefer to experience the country's culture with modern conveniences.White folks prefer our bed and breakfast and eating our local foods when they visit here once they can get the modern conveniences such as water,electricity,internet etc.

Yoruba language is taught here in Trinidad where I am from.

Example of a bed and breakfast here in the Caribbean.They use Amerindian architecture btw which uses trees for roofing as in African cultures.

Great advise!, this is exactly what im expecting the governoon of the state to start doing...

Watch "Director Of Jahn Library for African Literatures In Germany Speaks Yoruba" on YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zJWtz9gpGws

Watch "White boy speaking fluent Yoruba" on YouTube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmL66nBW2wQ

When is this man going to grow up?

Yoruba language is studied in 47 American varsities, says UI don

http://whatsupibadan.com/2013/11/16/yoruba-language-is-studied-in-47-american-varsities-says-ui-don/

While there is no incentive for the promotion of Yoruba language and more and more native speakers of the language are losing their native tongues, American government and its citizens are ironically spending huge resources and time to gain both fluency and immersion in the languages and cultures which the natives are ditching. Assistant Editor ADEKUNLE YUSUF reports.

IT was early in the day, but the young lads were already thirsty to sip from an array of the menu that formed the business of the day. From the exultant mood boldly etched on their faces, it is obvious that they had all kept the date jealously in their diaries. They were all tenth graders, drawn from public schools in Dane Country, Madison, Wisconsin, United States (US), all eager to gain from a week-long event to make them more knowledgeable about other cultures. That was July 28, 2011, and the event, a yearly ritual, was to let students have a sip of the languages, foods and cultures of the Yoruba, Swahili, Chinese, French and Russian.

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This reporter, a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison (UW-Madison) at the time, who was recruited to lead the enthusiastic teenagers on a walk through the fringes of Yoruba cultural mores and folklores, was filled with amazement by the time the curtain was drawn, as these American kids were happily reciting some Yoruba folkloric songs, which some of them recorded to enrich their mementoes.

The above event is not by happenstance. Every summer, it is the ritual for the Language Institute at the UW-Madison to assemble some select American pupils with the aim of introducing them to other cultures and concomitant educational utility therein. Although the essence of the weeklong summer carnival is to catch them young as far as deepening the interest of impressionable Americans in cultures and languages from other climes is concerned, at more formal levels, there are plans specifically designed to give impetus to students who wish to further explore their curiosity in the study of African languages, especially Yoruba.

Luckily, many of those pupils who have sipped from the summer initiative do later move up in life to enroll in undergraduate programmes in universities in the states and its environs. Thanks to the requirement that makes every American college undergraduate to gain proficiency in at least one international language (second language) before being certified worthy in learning and character; there exists a cooperative agreement between the University of Ibadan (UI), Oyo State, and the American Council for International Education (ACIE), Washington DC, US. Enacted in 2009, the agreement is planned to give fillip to the desire of American students who wish to pursue their interest in other cultures another notch, especially in Yoruba language and culture. And the product of that agreement is the Yoruba Language Flagship Programme (YLFP), which gave birth to the Yoruba Language Centre (YLC), operating since 2010 as a non-degree awarding unit at the University of Ibadan.

So, every year, American students travel down to the University of Ibadan for immersion in Yoruba language and culture, made possible by the exchange programme.

Essentially, the YLC renders services in Yoruba language acquisition and capacity building, among other things. It achieves this by running a specialised summer, semester, and academic programme of study in Yoruba language and culture for both undergraduate and graduate students from American universities, training them in Yoruba from the novice to superior level of proficiency, with emphasis on interpersonal communication skills- speaking, reading, listening and writing. That is where the good tiding lies; for some of YLC’s alumni, after gaining proficiency in Yoruba language, are now literally stealing headlines anywhere they go. Kevin Barry, otherwise known as Kayode Oyinbo, is one of such new enthusiasts of Yoruba language and culture. So is Cara Harshman, known as Titilayo Oyinbo.

The duet, who derive their Nigerian nicknames because of their uncanny ability to speak the Yoruba language without code-switching, are so proficient and fluent in Yoruba that a conversation with any of them is bound to leave many a native speaker green with envy. And all the immersion in the language is through their participation in the exchange programme at the University of Ibadan in 2010, aided of course, by previous course offering in the language at the U-Madison, their alma mater.

Currently, 10 students from first-rate American universities are completing the Yoruba studies at the University of Ibadan. But of the five Americans that benefited from the exchange programme when it started three years ago, Kayode, who plays the African talking drum and bata, has become a Yoruba language ambassador who is enjoying a rising profile, having visited Nigeria a number of times since then. On June 19 this year, Kayode took members of the Lagos State House of Assembly and guests by surprise when he addressed them in undiluted Yoruba, urging them to ensure that legislative business is conducted in Yoruba, not English.

Anytime the young American jets into the country, he hobnobs with Nigerian celebrities and top-notch politicians. Recently, he played one of the lead roles in You or I, a film by ace actor and producer Saidi Balogun film, which takes a look at marriage from the perspectives of what makes or mars it. The cast of You or I is entirely Caucasian, with the exception of Balogun. Aside Barry (Kayode), other Caucasians in the film are Elizabeth Croydon and Shira Oyive.

Like Kayode, Titilayo is another passionate Yoruba language enthusiast. Anytime any opportunity presents itself, she encourages native speakers not to ditch their language. In her productions, some of which are posted on YouTube, she constantly uses her journalistic skill to condemn the code-switching that has become the order of the day among Yoruba native speakers who live in the city.

Titilayo, in an article entitled ‘The beginning of the end’, said: “As the fateful day the Oyinbos will leave Nigeria draws nearer and nearer, the number of send forth parties gets higher and higher. Our Yoruba Flagship Center hosted a party for us on Wednesday. The party was a typical Yoruba function with a high table with distinguished guests, lots of prayers and people who spoke on forever about the importance of speaking Yoruba. Kayode and I gave short speeches in Yoruba and the five of us even sang a song that went : O digba, O dabo; Ki Olorin sho pade o; Ka rira pe layo; Ka maa ma sunkun ara wa.

“An incredible cultural troupe from Ibadan performed astonishing bata dances and Kayode joined in with his own Yoruba drums. People told us a local television station broadcast the party on TV but unfortunately-like all of my prior television appearances here- I never catch them.

“The send forth parties still continue in a non-formal setting with us and our Nigerian friends. Saying goodbye is a long process here because I am bombarded with questions from random people such as: ‘Will you take me back to your country with you?’ ‘When are you coming back?’ The prior question I get almost everyday. I have started giving responses like ‘No, because I am not a customs official and cannot give you a visa,’ or ‘I can take you if you can fit in my luggage.’ And to the latter question, I simply say ‘Mi i ni pe’/‘I will not be long’.”

Another Occidental boost for Yoruba language is from the US Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs. Through an initiative called Foreign Language Teaching Assistants, young speakers of Yoruba and Hausa languages who have educational background in English or language arts are recruited as teaching assistants to teach their languages and cultures to American students in the US universities and colleges. Olugboyega Adebanjo, lead translator, XML Language Services Limited, says this is a testimony to the immense value of Nigerian languages as veritable export commodities.

“If there are no Nigerian goods to be exported, and there are no Nigerian innovations to sell to the world, our languages and cultures can be our economic exchange with the Occident and the Orient,” he added.

Over the years, scores of young but talented Nigerians have used this scheme as springboard for greater educational achievements, serving as teaching assistants and all the concomitant benefits of tuition waiver and so on that come with it to climb higher education ladders.

One of them is Kazeem Kehinde Sanuth, who left Nigeria some years ago to teach Yoruba language and culture. Now a doctoral student in Second Language Acquisition (SLA) at the UW-Madison, Kazeem still teaches Yoruba every summer at the University of Florida in Gainesville. Asked about the prospects awaiting the Yoruba language, he enthuses that the sky is not even the limit, adding that Americans will always value the richness and cultural values imbued in the language.

Besides recruiting young minds to teach the language, Yoruba, among over 2,000 African languages, is one of the most widely learnt as a second language in Europe and America. The long list of top American universities and colleges that run ambitious, full-fledged programme in Yoruba language and culture include: Harvard University, Stanford University, Cornel University, University of Pennsylvania, University of Wisconsin-Madison, University of Massachusetts, Indiana University in Bloomington, Ohio State University, Michigan State University, Ohio University, University of California at Berkeley, University of California at Los Angeles, University of Florida, University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign, Howard University, Amherst College, Hampshire College, Mount Holyoke College, Smith College, among others.

Ironically, as Yoruba language is winning converts in droves abroad, its native speakers are fast ditching it. As if speaking in mother tongue is a plague that needs to be avoided, many parents have stopped talking to their children and wards in their mother tongue, ignorantly believing that it is both primitive and uncivilised for their children not to be able to speak good English, thus allowing the language to rank in the category of endangered languages compiled by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO). And going by the findings of a survey conducted two years ago in Nigeria’s six geo-political zones by a team of linguists led by Prof. Ahmed Amfani, more and more Nigerian parents are not handing over their languages to their children, for an average of 25 percent of Nigerian children of nursery and primary school ages do not speak their parents’ languages.

To worsen the situation, a recent directive from the National Education Research Council (NERC) is like an arrow that further pierced into the heart of indigenous languages, including Yoruba. In 2012, NERC, citing the need to drastically reduce the number of subjects students offer, ruled that indigenous languages should be removed from the list of compulsory subjects offered at the secondary school level. This, says Prof. Akinwumi Isola, poses a serious challenge for the continued survival of the mother tongue in the Nigerian schools.

Does the trend signal the near demise of Yoruba language? Not all experts share such pessimism. While insisting that Yoruba language will not die, Prof. Kola Owolabi of the University of Ibadan concludes that the language will only relocate abroad.

“Let us analyse the way the language is being taught and learnt in Nigeria and United States. I was told reliably that American universities studying Yoruba are up to 47. Now let us come to Yoruba land. How many federal institutions in Yoruba land are studying Yoruba as a subject? And if they are studying Yoruba as a subject, how many students do they have there? How many private universities in Yoruba land are studying Yoruba as a subject? So, you can see that the language is getting relocated to that place, whereas people here don’t pay attention to it at all. Yoruba language is dying daily because everybody is learning how to speak English. People abroad are concentrating on how to speak your language for you. So, the language will not die. In the next 50 to 100 years, those who speak the language natively will have gone, may be it may be limited to the countryside. By that time, Yoruba language will have been so entrenched in the US such that in 50 to 100 years’ time, it will have become a household study there,” he said.

Sadly, the import of this trend is that Americans will have gained so much fluency and mastery of Yoruba language that they will not just be communicating in it, they will also be sending experts to train and teach the natives what is supposedly their mother tongue!

Yorùbá is still one of the most extensively researched of all sub-Saharan languages and cultures, and has a long tradition of oral verbal production (oral literature) within indigenous cosmopolitan which is receptive of both Islamic and Christian cultures. I love ma language...

Beacause we dont like to shout like the others...lol

LagosDecides15:
They have not tribalised this one becuz he is not y1bo.

No y1bo kwenu yet?

We are not broke but we are borrowing money to pay for salaries, i really dont understand this woman economy policies again....