ambiguity

“Olú” isn’t (Always) “God/Lord” Either

After the last blog post examining the common misunderstanding of the Yorùbá root word “Ọlá”, I realised that there are more of these root morphemes whose meanings are not often clear among native speakers, and subsequently among non-native speakers.

One of these is “Olú” commonly translated as “Lord” or “God”, but which is not always deserving of such a simple reading.

Like “Ọlá”, there are instances where “Olú” could be a short form of “olúwa” which, in many cases, refer to lord/master. e.g. “Olúwa mi. Olówó orí mi…” said by a woman to her man is believed to be a term of endearment: my lord and owner/master. (Sorry, feminists).

But in translating the Bible into Yorùbá in the early/late nineteenth century, the word olúwa was used generously to refer to “the Lord” Jesus Christ, and it took a different meaning. “Olúwa” (especially written with capital letters) became identified only with the son of God, and “Olúwa Ọlọ́run” (Genesis 2:7) as God him/herself.

Written in small letters, it continued to be used as “lord”, a term of endearment, but also a generic word for “individual”. e.g. Ta ni olúwa rẹ̀ to ń pariwo níbẹ̀ yẹn? (Who is the individual making noises there?). In most cases where it is used in the latter case, it is often in anger: Ta l’olúwa rẹ̀!?

In all the cases listed above, Olúwa/olúwa is written and used in full, with no abbreviations.

But before the generous use of olúwa in the bible, children have been named with “Olú” as a root morpheme for many generations. And in these instances, it meant something far away from the Christian “lord” and “saviour”. It simply meant “prominence” or “prominent one” or “head”; anything signifying of stardom or elevation of status in society. An “olú ọmọ” was the star child, the prominent child with promise. The “olú igbó” was the head of the forest, and the “olú ọdẹ” was the head hunter. Same for Olúawo (or Olúwo), Olúòkun, etc. Even the traditional head of Ìbàdàn is called Olúbàdàn (“the prominent head of Ìbàdàn”). Even our distant cousins in Warri have their king called Olú as a primary title.

So children named Olúmìdé, Olúwọlé or Olúbáyọ̀dé were initially named for their intended/projected prominence: “My star child has come”, “The prominent one has entered the home”, and “Prominence came with joy”, respectively. Those meanings still hold till today.

But the ambiguity introduced by the expansion of the meaning of “Olú” to also mean “Olúwa” when Yorùbá citizens began to embrace Christianity with uncommon fervour began to muddy the waters as time went on. A name like “Olúṣẹ́gun” which would otherwise mean “the star child has conquered” could now also mean “the Lord conquered” as thanks to God for the successful birth of the child, or a future projection into his future successes in battle. The latter meaning was enthusiastically embraced by Nigeria’s past president Olúṣẹ́gun Ọbásanjọ́ whose life story of battles, defeats, and resurgence seems to have perfectly matched his given name.

Names like Olúdárà or Ọláolú began to be expanded to be written also as Olúwadárà or Ọláolúwa even if it wasn’t the originally intended meaning while names like Olúwaṣeun began to mean only one thing (“The Lord be praised”). In actual fact, one can guess that names beginning with “Olúwa” began to surface and increase in usage only after the successful Christian missionary incursion in to Yorùbáland. Before then, it would be rare to envision a name like Olúwalógbọ́n (“only the Lord/God is wise”) or Bólúwatifẹ́ (“As the Lord/God wants”) being given in a community with mostly animistic and polytheistic outlook.

In any case, not all names can be expanded into “Olúwa”, and those have mostly retained their original meaning. A name like “Máláólú”, for instance, means “give the white cloth (of the Ọbàtálá religion) to the prominent one” perhaps in worship or as sacrifice. There is no way in which “give the white Ọbàtálá cloth to the Lord Jesus” would make any contemporary sense. It is the same with Olúdọ̀tun (“prominence/stardom is renewed”) or Kúmólú (“Death took our prominent head”) which can not be changed to “Olúwadọ̀tun” or “Kúmólúwa” without raising eyebrows. Thankfully.

Something else also began to happen, however, especially with more Pentecostal growth. Names originally with traditional root morphemes like Ògún, Ṣàngó, Èṣù, Omi, Oṣó etc began to be replaced with Olú instead, a seeming harmless and possible Christian replacement for their “heathen” heritage. Thus Ṣóyínká (“I’m surrounded by sorcerers”) became Olúyínká (“I’m surrounded by prominence/Lord Jesus”), Èṣùbíyìí (“Èṣù gave birth to this”) became either Jésùbíyìí or Olúbíyìí. Ògúnsànyà became Olú́sànyà. Popular musician Dúpẹ́ Ṣólànà became Dúpẹ́ Olúlànà.

One of the challenges of our work in defining names in the Yorùbá Dictionary of Names is in knowing when the name refers to a Christian root or the original, more traditional one. The process of discovery is half of the fun.

What does your name mean?

“Ọlá” Isn’t (Always) “Wealth”

One common stereotype about Yorùbá names is that they, on the surface, always seem obsessed with wealth. It is incompatible with the truth, of course, but examples are usually provided easily to show how almost any verb combined with the word for “wealth” will almost generate a Yorùbá name.

My name is “Kọ́lá” (full name Kọ́láwọlé), a very good example of this instance.

There are others: Bọ́lá, Ṣọlá, Tọ́lá, Nọ́lá, Fọlá, Dọlá, Gbọlá, etc. In actual fact, I realised a while ago that a simple computer program can generate unlimited numbers of valid Yorùbá names if we would just combine almost any consonant in the language with a few key root morphemes (like ọlá, adé, oyè, etc).

The problem, however, is that the “ọlá” in Yorùbá names do not all mean the same thing. They are not, to use a cliché, created equal. In the case of “Kọ́láwọlé”, I can provide a curt interpretation as “(He who) bring(s) wealth into the house” but that doesn’t say all that the name embodies. In any case, the “ọlá” in the name is more than nominal wealth. It is prominence, it is dignity, it is nobility, it is success, it is honour, it is acclaim.

A man referred to as “Ọlọ́lá” is not just rich, he is a notable public figure with admirable nobility. If money were to be the distinguishing factor, he would be called “Olówó” instead. There is another appellation given to properly highlight material wealth. That is Ọlọ́là. This ọlà (note the difference in the tonal marking) highlights material success above individual character or nobility.

Therefore a name like Adégbọlá would be better interpreted either as  “We have arrived to receive wealth” or “The crown/royalty has received nobility/prominence/honour/success.” The context, or the family story, will decide which one is appropriate in each instance. A name like Ọláńrewájú, however, brings a different problem. Same with Ọláwálé. Here, the root “ọlá” is being given a subject role in which it is forced to be more than wealth or nobility. It becomes a person! A Dictionary of Yorùbá Personal Names by Adébóyè Babalọlá and Olúgbóyèga Àlàbá defines both, respectively, as “The head of this noble family is progressing” and “The new member of our noble family has come home.” In both cases, Ọlá is a living being, represented by this newly-born child.

Please leave other relevant examples that you’re familiar with in the comment below.

In other instances, Ọlá means “blessing” or “grace”. And isn’t that interesting? The sentence “Ọlá Ọlọ́run ni mo jẹ” means “I’ve benefited from the grace of God.” In this case, it is not “wealth” or “nobility” at all. What the name is saying is that if not for the presence/grace/help of God, the child wouldn’t have been born. Now, this doesn’t mean that it couldn’t also mean “the wealth of God”, but that would be a simplistic reading indeed. This interpretation would explain names like Ọláìyá (“the benefit/grace of mother”), Ọláòkun (“the benefit of the ocean – or foreign travel”) or Ọláolúwa (born by “the grace/benefit of God”). See also: Ọláifá, Ọláọ̀pá, Ọláoyè.

Photo from PixarBay

In late 2015, an expectant inter-ethnic couple (the wife is Yorùbá while the husband is Igbo) wrote to us asking for help in picking out a name for their firstborn child (you can read the whole blog post here). They were open to anything, especially names that could be easily pronounced by both parents. But they had a caveat: the name shouldn’t have “ọlá” in it. Why? Because it connoted “wealth” and they wanted names that focused instead on celebrating the child than something that would seem so superficial and focused on material gains. They eventually settled for “Tiwanìfẹ́” (Ours is love/loving) which is a beautiful name. But had they settled for “Tiwalọlá” (ours is grace/nobility/wealth), it would also have been equally as delightful. In any case, the “wealth” or “nobility” in Tiwalọlá refers to the child and nothing else: “this wealth, this child, is ours”.

Perhaps it is what is lost in translation. When we say “wealth” in Yorùbá, we are not always referring to money or material wealth (that would be ọlà). That “wealth” referred in “ọlá” is something more: human potential, largeness of heart, generosity of spirit (and of materials, yes), nobility, dignity, honour, and grace, depending on context. In names like “Ìwàlọlá” or “Ọmolọlá”, the definition of “ọlá” is actually given, as “character”  and “child” respectively. And in “Babalọlá”, “Father/hood is honour/wealth/nobility.”

That is why what a child like “Kọ́lá” brings into the house in “Kọ́láwọlé” is more than just a temporary (or even measurable) treasure.