Awujale: Between tradition and religion, by Niyi Tabiti

When the late Alake of Egbaland, Oba Oyebade Lipede, took his final royal bow at age 90 in 2005, you’d think everything would end smoothly—after all, Baba lived long, enjoyed well, and reigned in style.

But no, that’s where the drama started.

As soon as Lipede passed, his wife, Mama Ade, practically japa’d with the king’s body. Her mission? To ensure Baba skipped the usual traditional rites and instead took the express route to heaven via a Christian burial. According to her, the king had become born again—or should we say, “redeemed”—and therefore needed a holy exit, not a traditional detour.

But the ‘Omo Iya Marun’—the kingmakers—were not having it. Led by none other than Chief Alani Bankole, the Oluwo of Iporo Ake, they said, “Over our traditional caps!” The body tug-of-war got so intense that it almost turned to a full-blown royal wrestling match. It took plenty of threats, persuasion, and maybe a sprinkle of juju logic before Mama Ade finally released Baba’s body for the traditional send-off.

I remember teasing my friend back then—his uncle later became Alake himself. I told him, “Ah, Baba really chopped life with the traditionalists, but now wants to sneak into heaven like a redeemed elder. Na wa o! Last-minute conversion goals!Omo shetan, Omo yourun.”

Now fast forward to the Awujale of Ijebuland, Oba Sikiru Adetona—another respected royal icon. Long before his eventual passing, the Awujale made it clear: “When I go, bury me the Islamic way.” A noble request, no doubt.

But now, a debate is brewing louder than talking drums at a palace party. Some traditionalists are raising their horsetails, arguing: “If tradition gave you the crown, shouldn’t tradition also wave you goodbye?”

Justice Phillip Akinside recently echoed this sentiment at a public event, dropping the gavel of truth: “Let’s not cherry-pick our royalty. If you came in with the orisha, don’t check out with hallelujah.”

One thing’s clear—when it comes to royal burials in Yorubaland, it’s not just about resting in peace. It’s about resting in tradition… or religion. Or both, if the ancestors allow it.

• Tabiti, a journalist writes from Lagos, Nigeria.