In the cosmological order of Yorùbáland, the death of a king is never a private event. It is a rupture in the spiritual fabric, a moment when the earthly and the metaphysical converge in solemn rites intended not merely to mourn but to affirm the continuity of ancestral lineage, cosmic balance, and communal identity. When His Royal Majesty, Oba (Dr.) Sikiru Kayode Adetona, CFR, JP, Ogbagba II, the Awujale of Ijebuland, passed in July 13, 2025, what should have been a sacred transition steeped in age-old traditions instead erupted into a national debate that pierced the boundaries of religion, law, culture, and identity itself. This was no ordinary funeral; it became a modern parable of Africa’s enduring struggle to reconcile its ancestral roots with the encroaching certainties of global faiths and modern legal frameworks.
Oba Adetona’s sixty-five year reign itself embodied this duality. Ascending the throne in 1960 through the esoteric processes of Ijebu kingship selection, the monarch, by ancient covenant, did not merely rule. He became the physical manifestation of the ancestral order. In the metaphysics of Ijebu cosmology, the Awujale stands as Alase – the custodian of authority – and Ekeji Orisa – the earthly second to the pantheon of deities. His ascension wove him into the sacred nexus connecting the living with the ancestral spirits and the Orisa, including Obatala, Oduduwa, and other deities specific to the Ijebu spiritual corpus. His reign was a sacred trust, not merely a political stewardship.
Yet, paradoxically, Oba Adetona, while enthroned as a vessel of African Traditional Religion (ATR), embraced Islam as his personal faith. This dichotomy is not unfamiliar in Yorùbáland, where religious syncretism has long been a hallmark of cultural life. Many traditional rulers blend Christian or Islamic personal devotion with public participation in ancestral rites, viewing both as occupying distinct yet complementary spheres. In Oba Adetona’s case, however, this duality was challenged at its most profound moment: the ritual passage into ancestorhood itself.
Before his death, the Awujale left an unambiguous instruction that his burial should follow Islamic rites. On the surface, this directive respected his personal religious liberty. Beneath the surface, however, it ignited a spiritual crisis. Traditional priests, diviners, and ritual custodians – the aworo, olorisa, and lineage priests charged for centuries with performing the sacred transition rites – gathered at the palace, prepared to conduct the ceremonies that, within ATR, are not perfunctory but essential. These rites facilitate not only the monarch’s safe passage to the ancestral realm (Orun) but also uphold the metaphysical balance essential for the kingdom’s prosperity and spiritual well-being. Their exclusion, therefore, was interpreted not merely as a denial of tradition but as a breach of cosmic order.
What unfolded on the day of the Awujale’s burial was, in essence, a ritual schism. The monarch’s body, according to his wishes, was washed, shrouded, and interred swiftly in the Islamic fashion, facing Mecca. Prayers were recited, as prescribed by Islamic doctrine, under the solemn gaze of Muslim clerics. No oriki (praise poems) were chanted. No libations were poured to ancestral spirits. No presentation of sacred emblems or ritual invocations to the earth deity occurred. The voices of the traditional priests were silenced at the palace gates. In the eyes of the custodians of Ijebu cosmology, this was no mere procedural deviation; it was a rupture of the metaphysical covenant upon which kingship itself rests.
The implications of this event resound far beyond the royal grounds of Ijebu-Ode. Within the precincts of ATR, anxiety looms. Was the spirit of the Awujale properly transitioned? Will ancestral displeasure manifest as misfortune for Ijebuland? These are not abstract fears but cosmological certainties within the ATR framework. The monarch, who stands as the nexus between the people and the deities, has departed without the completion of rites deemed essential for cosmic harmony. Ritual obligations, carried across generations, were negated not by foreign conquerors but by the personal choice of a ruler who embodied both tradition and its repudiation.
More critically, the burial posed a stark question to Nigeria’s evolving chieftaincy system: can a traditional monarch, whose legitimacy is intertwined with ancestral rites, subordinate these rites to personal faith without compromising the sanctity of his office? Here, the dilemma transcends theology. It interrogates the constitutional guarantees of religious freedom against the inherited obligations of pre-colonial spiritual authority. In exercising his personal right to Islamic burial, the Awujale, as an individual, asserted the modern principle of personal liberty. Yet, as the living embodiment of Ijebu cosmology, did that personal choice override the metaphysical obligations of his office? The answer, unresolved, remains a tension at the heart of modern Nigeria’s pluralistic identity.
Further complicating the landscape is the legal ambiguity surrounding such cases. Nigeria’s Constitution enshrines freedom of religion unequivocally, protecting individual rights to manifest and practice faith. In the same constitutional framework, however, chieftaincy institutions are recognized under state-level customary laws, which implicitly assume the continuity of ancestral traditions without codifying their enforcement. While courts have upheld personal religious rights for traditional rulers, the specific conflict between posthumous traditional obligations and personal faith remains largely untested in Nigerian jurisprudence. There is no clear legal pathway to reconcile these clashing obligations. State governments, reluctant to intrude upon palace spiritual matters, default to pragmatism, allowing precedence to personal faith under the veil of religious freedom. This passive approach, however, leaves the heart of the problem – the spiritual integrity of traditional offices – unresolved.
This burial, therefore, is not an isolated cultural curiosity. It is emblematic of a deeper confrontation: the ascendance of globalized, text-based religions over localized, orally transmitted traditions. Islam and Christianity, backed by global networks, formal education systems, and perceptions of modernity and progress, increasingly occupy the public and private spaces once held by ATR. Their rise is not merely theological but socio-political. They are institutionalized, well-resourced, and integrated into the machinery of state and civil society. In contrast, ATR remains fragmented, often marginalized, its practices misunderstood or vilified as superstitions rather than recognized as complex, indigenous spiritual systems.
Yet the critique cannot rest solely on external pressures. ATR’s vulnerabilities are internal as much as they are systemic. The lack of centralized doctrine, dependence on oral transmission, and the absence of modern institutional structures have rendered ATR ill-equipped to assert its relevance in the 21st century. Its association – sometimes unfair, sometimes accurate – with harmful practices, opacity, and resistance to reform has alienated younger, educated generations. Where world religions offer structured doctrines, defined eschatologies, and global belonging, ATR struggles to transcend localism and demystify its philosophies for a modern audience.
This brings into focus an unavoidable truth: mere preservation of ATR is no longer sufficient. If it is to survive – let alone thrive – it must embrace deliberate, strategic evolution. This evolution must begin with intellectual rigor. ATR’s cosmologies, herbal knowledge, ethics, and divination systems like Ifá must be systematically documented and integrated into academic discourse. Endowed university chairs in Indigenous Knowledge Systems should not be optional cultural niceties but strategic imperatives. Oral traditions must find permanence in print, in digital archives, and in scholarly analysis that can withstand critical scrutiny and engage modern minds.
Public education is equally essential. ATR must demystify itself, proactively distinguishing its profound spiritual principles from superstitions or harmful accretions. School curricula should include accurate, balanced teachings on ATR’s ethical frameworks, environmental philosophies, and contributions to African civilization, fostering understanding without proselytization.
The communication revolution cannot be ignored. ATR must engage digital platforms – from sophisticated websites to social media and documentary filmmaking – to tell its stories, explain its rituals, and showcase its aesthetics. Rituals should not remain opaque performances shrouded in mystery but respected practices illuminated for broader understanding, without violating their sacredness.
Social relevance must underpin ATR’s renaissance. Community development initiatives, traditional medicine clinics validated through scientific partnership, and environmental conservation efforts rooted in sacred groves can position ATR as a force not of nostalgic pasts but of practical present benefits. The artistry of ATR – its music, sculpture, textiles, and festivals – must be reimagined and re-presented to resonate with contemporary audiences while preserving authenticity.
Finally, interfaith dialogue must move beyond defensive apologetics. ATR must engage Islam, Christianity, and secular institutions not as an inferior tradition but as a knowledge system offering unique perspectives on sustainability, community ethics, and spiritual well-being. This engagement must be confident, strategic, and uncompromising on core values.
The burial of Oba Adetona thus becomes more than a singular event. It is a parable of a civilization at crossroads. On one side stand the globalized religions, confident in their doctrines and institutional power. On the other stand the ancestral traditions, rich in wisdom yet vulnerable, fragmented, and misunderstood. Between them lies the African state, legally bound to religious freedom yet spiritually entangled in its plural heritage.
The path forward is neither rejection nor blind preservation. It is intelligent renaissance. African Traditional Religion, and the chieftaincy systems it legitimizes, must evolve consciously, shedding opacity without abandoning sanctity, embracing modernity without forfeiting identity. In doing so, it will not merely survive the pressures of global religions and legal modernity; it will reclaim its rightful place as a living, dynamic spiritual force capable of illuminating Africa’s future.
Oba Adetona’s final act, whether seen as personal liberation or communal rupture, is a catalyst. His burial marks not just the end of a reign but the beginning of an unavoidable conversation about the soul of a people navigating the perilous yet promising intersection of tradition, religion, and modernity. His legacy, paradoxically, may lie not in the rituals he accepted or rejected but in the urgent reawakening of the spiritual tradition he embodied.
By: Jide Adesina
For 1stafrika.com
