OMO ODUDUWA AND THE POLITICS OF SYMBOLIC ANCESTRY

By Abdulrazaq Hamzat

Across history, communities have often rallied around unifying figures who provided leadership, structure, and identity.

In Yorubaland, Oduduwa is remembered as such a figure. He is commonly described as the progenitor of the Yoruba race, but this must not be mistaken for a biological claim.

Oduduwa did not sire all Yoruba people; rather, he became the symbolic centre of unity, the political and cultural standard bearer around whom diverse groups of people consolidated their shared identity.

This is not unique to the Yoruba. Ilorin offers a striking parallel. When residents proudly declare “a wa ni Omo Geri Alimi” (we belong to Alfa Alimi), they do not mean that Alimi is the biological father of every Ilorin citizen. Instead, the statement honours Sheikh Alimi as the leader and reformer under whose authority the community took shape.

Similarly, when Ilorin was once called “Ilorin Afonja,” it was not to claim that Afonja fathered every resident, but to recognize his political and military influence in shaping the city’s emergence under his leadership.

In both cases, the names Oduduwa, Afonja, and Alimi function as historical signposts, not genealogical records. They are invoked as symbols of authority and unity. This symbolic ancestry is a political description, not a literal bloodline. It marks the moment when scattered communities became organized peoples under a leader who provided direction and cohesion.

It is important that we interpret these narratives with clarity. Taking them literally distorts history and creates unnecessary debates about origin and descent. Recognizing them as political symbols, however, allows us to appreciate the genius of leadership and institution building in African societies.

So, when Yoruba people are described as Omo Oduduwa, Oduduwa stands not as anyone’s biological father, but as the unifying figure who laid the foundations of a shared Yoruba identity, hence the enduring title, Omo Oduduwa.

In our present day, when ethnic and political tensions still threaten cohesion, these lessons matter. They remind us that what binds a people is not just bloodline, but the ability to rally around a unifying vision. Nobody can tell the singular “origin” of any tribe or ethnic nationality; what we can discuss is their evolution as communities.

Leadership, at its highest, is not about parentage but about providing direction, forging unity, and inspiring collective identity. That was Oduduwa’s gift to the Yoruba, and it remains a timeless example for Nigeria as a whole.

Let us also shatter one other myth, especially from those who criticize Ilorin’s cultural evolution around the Emir. Ilorin is a Yoruba speaking town, but with Fulani cultural leadership. Nothing is strange here, and neither is it unique.

History is filled with such examples. Oduduwa was said to have come from the East, yet he became leader of the Yoruba in Ile Ife, the ancestral home of the Yoruba.

Oromiyan, from Ife, later became leader of the Benin people in Edo. Kano is a predominantly Hausa city, yet it has Fulani leadership. Even internationally, the monarchy of England traces its roots not to the English themselves but to foreign rulers who came from Rome and beyond.

The lesson is simple, identity is never static, and leadership often transcends bloodline. Instead of clinging to myths or confusion, we must focus on building a future grounded in our shared experiences, mutual respect, and the vision of unity.

 

 

Abdulrazaq Hamzat is the Executive Director of Foundation for Peace Professionals (PeacePro) and he can be reached at discus4now@gmail.com