os

ss
Seer

female Power
gmong th e
s
Yoruba
Y JOHN DR EWAL AND
sARET T HOM PSON DREWAL
a
GELEOE
Oro Efe sways slowly, majestically swinging horsetail whisks as
he sings throughout the night, commenting on all aspects of so-
ciety. His special status is mirrored in his elegant red appliquéd
costume with a reptile embroidered on the bodice, the whisks,
and an elaborately carved headdress with a stark white face and
a multicolored superstructure. Igbogila, 1978.
GELEOE
Art and Female Power
among the Yoruba

HENRY JOHN DREWAL AND

MARGARET THOMPSON DREWAL

INDIANA UNIVERSITY PRESS

Bloomington
This book is a publication of

Indiana University Press

601 North Morton Street
Bloomington, IN 47404-3797 USA

http://www.indiana.edu/~iupress

Telephone orders 800-842-6796

Fax orders 812-855-7931
Orders by e-mail [email protected]

First Midland Book edition 1990

The Northwestern University Research Grants Committee and the Graduate Dean’s
Office, Cleveland State University, have provided partial support for the publication of
the Midland edition of this book. Indiana University Press gratefully acknowledges this
assistance.

Publication of this book is made possible in part with the assistance of a

Challenge Grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities, a federal agency
that supports research, education, and public programming in the humanities.

Copyright © 1983 by Henry John Drewal and Margaret Thompson Drewal

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying
and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publisher. The Association
of American University Presses’ Resolution on Permissions constitutes
the only exception to this prohibition.

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements

of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence
of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Drewal, Henry John.

Gelede: art and female power among the Yoruba.

(Traditional arts of Africa)

Bibliography: p. 00
Includes index.
1. Yorubas—Rites and ceremonies. 2. Women, Yoruba.
3. Yorubas—Religion. I. Drewal, Margaret Thompson.
Mieitlewes Ulesenies:
DT515.45.Y67D73 1983 306'.089963 82-48388
ISBN 0-253-32569-2
ISBN 0-253-20565-4 (pbk.) ‘

ae by ey of tt Oy 0 OS 02 Ol OO
To our mothers and fathers
 Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2022 with funding from
Kahle/Austin Foundation

https ://archive.org/details/geledeartfemalepOO000drew
contents
Preface / xv
Note on Orthography / xxi
Map / xxiv

1. Yoruba Spectacle / 1
2. Gelede Performance / 17
3. Efe Songs—Voicing Power | 38
4. The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night / 62
5. The Dance: Texturing Time and Space | 105
6. The Masks of Gelede / 152
7. A Historical and Thematic Overview / 221
8. Gelede and the Indiwidual / 247

Notes on Text / 271

Notes on Plates / 281
References / 203
Index / 300
C2 O71
Oa 7a Pie ee

Unless otherwise noted, all photographs are by the authors.

Oro Efe in performance, Igbogila. Frontispiece.

Between pages 8 and g.
Gelede in performance, Ilaro.
Oro Efe in performance, Sawonjo.
Back view of Oro Efe in plate 2.
Gelede masquerader whirling, Iaro.
Pair of Gelede masqueraders wearing appliquéd panels, Idahin.
Detail of an embroidered and appliquéd wrapper worn by a mas-
querader, Sawonjo.
Gelede with elaborate coiffure and Ketu-style costume, Idahin.
oo Gelede wearing a northern hat with a bird perched on top and an
Egbado-style costume, Sawonjo.
Masquerader with a biplane surmounting the headdress, Lagos.
Gelede mask depicting four society members encircled by a snake,
Sawonjo.
Full back view of masquerader in plate 10.
Traditional pigments used in painting Gelede masks, Lagos.
A group of masks painted with traditional pigments approximating
skin color, Lagos.
eleset
Balbre:

Arabi Ajigbale mask, Lagos.

no
= The Great Mother masquerade in performance, Cove. Photograph
by Edna Bay.
Spirit Bird in performance, Ilaro.
Tetede masquerade, Sawonjo.
Oro Efe in performance, Igbogila.
Hyena mask, Kesan Orile.
Child masquerader performing, Iaro.
Child masquerader attended by instructor, Ilaro.
Pair of teenage masqueraders perform under supervision, Ilaro.
Pair of master dancers in performance, Ketu.
Masquerader dancing with spectators, Ilaro.
Masquerader dancing with crowd controller, Sawonjo.
Deified ancestral priestess masquerade (Iju), Imasai.
Amukoko, the herald, Lagos.
Amukoko mask, Dagbe. Musée Ethnographique, Porto Novo
(55-9-20).
Great Mother mask. White Collection, Seattle Art Museum. Photo-
graph by Paul M. Macapia.
Great Mother mask. From Clouzot and Level (1926:pl. 38).
Great Mother mask, Sawonjo.
Great Mother mask. Musée Royal de l'Afrique Centrale, Tervuren
(R. G. 75-49:1).
Great Mother mask with prominent tuft, Ibaiyun.
Great Mother mask, Benin (R. P. B.).
Shrine with three Great Mother masks, Iwoye.
Great Mother mask, Benin (R. P. B.).
Spirit Bird mask, Sawonjo.
Spirit Bird mask, Ibese.
Shrine with Great Mother mask covered in white cloth, Igbogila.
Tetede mask. Art Museum, University of Ife.
Tetede mask. Art Museum, University of Ife.
Tetede mask, Igbogila.
Tetede mask. Musée Ethnographique, Porto Novo (55.3.36).
Ajakuena masquerade in performance, Ilaro.
Oro Efe headdress, Ketu.
Oro Efe headdress. Bernisches Historisches Museum (CO.68.325.2).
Oro Efe headdress. Musée Ethnographique, Porto Novo (55.9.2).

1X
 Plates

Oro Efe headdress. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (59.33.1006). 88

Oro Efe headdress, Ajilete. 92
Oro Efe headdress, Obele. 92
Oro Efe headdress, Igbeme-lIle. 93
Apasa mask. William and Robert Arnett Collection. Photograph by
Gerald Jones. g6
Apasa mask. Hammer Collection. Photograph by Jeffrey Hammer. g6
Apasa mask, Isagba. 97
Apasa mask, Iwoye. 97
Apasa mask of twins, Iwoye. 98
Oro Efe masquerade, I[laro. oo
Oro Efe masquerade, Lagos. 100
Oro Efe in performance atop a market stall, Abeokuta. 102

Neophyte masquerader in performance, Ilaro. 107

Young masquerader in performance with bottle caps strung
around his ankles, Ilaro. 108
Young supervised Gelede dancer in performance, Ilaro. 109
Masquerader in performance wearing a porcupine headdress,
Sawonjo. 110
Gelede drum ensemble, Ilaro. 112
Masqueraders accompanied by lineage supporters, Ilaro. 118
Masquerader in performance, Ilaro. 119
Abeokuta female-style masqueraders in performance, Ibara quar-
te 122
Egbado male-style masquerader in performance wearing a long
gown, Ilaro. Les
Lagos female-style masquerader in performance, Isale Eko quar-
Weie 124
Ketu female-style masquerader in performance, Ketu. 126
Female-type masquerader donning twin figures as breasts, Joga/
Imasai vicinity. i277
Female-type masquerader wearing breasts adorned with lizards
and seated monkeys, Imasai. 128
Ketu female-style masquerader in performance with a tightly
wrapped torso, Ketu. 129
Egbado female-style masquerader in performance wearing a
headdress of snakes, Ilaro. 130
Female-type masquerader in performance, Sawonjo. 131
Lagos female-style masquerader wearing a special type of apron,
Isale Eko quarter. P33
Studio portrait of a female-style masquerader. Nigerian Museum
archives. ae
Pair of female-type masqueraders in performance, Idahin. « 130
Male-type masquerader in performance, Idofa. 539
Male-type masquerader in performance wearing appliquéd panels,
Idahin. 140
Plates xl

Masquerader performing eka, Llaro.

Paired masqueraders lined up for a procession, Lagos.
Masquerader paying homage to the drummers, Lagos.
Masquerader spinning, Lagos.
Masquerader held off the ground by an attendant, Lagos.
Gelede mask. Musée Royal de l'Afrique Centrale, Tervuren
(R'Gr72198-72),
Female-type mask, [ale Ketu.
Mask depicting tumblers. Museum fiir Vélkerkunde, Berlin (III
C 41149).
Mask with moveable chains. British Museum, London (1942
ALF0):
Mask with multiple attachments. Musée Royal de l'Afrique Cen-
trale, Tervuren (R. G. 62.42.1).
Female-type mask. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (289).
Masquerade of a horse and rider, Abeokuta. Photograph by
T. J. H. Chappel. Nigerian Museum archives (neg. no. 46.5.B.5).
Mask with hinged joints, Ofia.
Gelede dancer in performance wearing a mask with hinged joints,
Idahin. Photograph by Howard Wildman.
Masquerader wearing a headpiece of assembled parts, Haro.
Mask surmounted by a moveable puppet. William and Robert Ar-
nett Collection. Photograph by Gerald Jones.
Body mask, Isagba. Photograph by Howard Wildman.
Body mask. Musée Royal de lAfrique Centrale, Tervuren
(REG. 75°78:2):
Trunk mask. Harrison Eiteljorg Collection. Photograph by Robert
Wallace.
Trunk mask. Museum fiir Volkerkunde, Basel (III 12719).
Masquerader in performance with attendant, Lagos.
Mask with female hairstyle. Institute of African Studies, University
of Ibadan (6498). 168
Mask with female hairstyle. Art Museum, University of Ife.
Mask with a head tie. Musée des Arts Africaines et Océaniennes,
Paris (64.14.1).
Mask with a head tie. Museum ftir V6lkerkunde, Koln.
Mask adorned with face marks and a tuft of hair. Musée de
Homme, Paris (91.22.99). 170
Two masks with caps. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (59.35.61,
59-35-47). Lh Oe 171
Mask with a cap with dog ears. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(66.2.118). 171
Mask with a cap. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (44.1.1). ge
Mask with a perforated hat. Art Museum, University of Ife. 172
Mask with a beard and turban. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (60.6.10). 173
Mask with a turban, surmounted by a quadruped. British Museum,
London (1942 Af 77). 173
 Xl Plates

LOO. Mask with a ritual hairstyle. British Museum, London (1959

Af 19.100).
101. Mask with a ritual hairstyle. Institute of African Studies, University
of Ibadan (679).
Mask representing a carver. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (67.8.37).
Mask depicting two calabash artisans. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(65.2.81).
Mask entitled “Drummers.” Nigerian Museum, Lagos (66.3.25).
Mask with two pressure drums. Institute of African Studies, Uni-
versity of Ibadan (666).
Mask with a hunter’s trap. Museum fiir Vélkerkunde, Hamburg
(64.55-595).
Mask with two hunters wrestling with a pangolin. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (68.2.59).
Mask with a tree, hunter, and lion. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(65.9.25).
Mask. Alternate view of plate 108 showing a hunter with his prey.
Mask with a tray and a large bowl. Institute of African Studies,
University of Ibadan (6496).
Mask of an eko seller, Sawonjo.
Mask of a plantain seller. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (62.21.255).
Pair of masks with small cosmetic pots on a tray and a rolled up mat
at the top, Idahin. Photograph by Howard Wildman.
Mask with a calabash container. Institute of African Studies, Uni-
versity of Ibadan (6497).
Mask with a double arc of pythons framing a female figure. Nige-
rian Museum, Lagos (60.1.14).
Mask flanked by two female figures grasping strands of cowries.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos (66.2.280).
Pair of masks with small ritual pots on top. Institute of African
Studies, University of Ibadan (6499, 67102).
Mask with a ritual container. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (59.33.69).
Mask depicting an Egungun masquerader. Indiana University Art
Museum, Bloomington (77.104).
Pair of masks depicting ritual scenes. British Museum, London
(1887.2-3.2, 1887.2-3.1).
Mask of a muslim cleric. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (60.1.15).
Mask of a muslim with turban. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (60.15.8).
Mask commemorating Chief Justice G. B. A. Coker, Lagos.
Pair of masks memorializing drummers, Lagos.
Special headdress, Imala.
Back view of plate 125.
Mask with a copulating couple. Nigerian Museum, Lagos (65.T.11).
Mask with a nude female exposing her labia. Museum fiir Volker-
kunde, Berlin (III C 41146).
Mask depicting a monkey with elephantiasis. Musée Ethnographi-
que, Porto Novo (55.9.58).
 Plates xlil

130. Mask of a European wearing a pith helmet. British Museum, Lon-

don (1959 Af 19.114).
Lay, Mask with a man in English attire riding a bicycle. Institute of
African Studies, University of Ibadan (64.21).
132. Masquerader with a headdress displaying a motorcycle accom-
panied by his caretaker wearing a motorcycle helmet, aro.
1a. Gelede mask with a tailor at his sewing machine. Nigerian Museum,
Lagos (60.15.16).
Mask depicting a chief flanked by his attendants, Ilaro.
Warthog mask Musée d’Ethnographie de Genéve (38632).
Mask with two snakes attacking a porcupine. British Museum, Lon-
don (1942 Af 7.6).
Mask with a bird attacking a snake. Museum fiir V6lkerkunde,
Berlin (III C 41133).
Mask of a wild pig with a monkey in its mouth. Institute of African
Studies, University of Ibadan (6628).
Trunk mask of a gorilla, Kesan Orile.
Trunk mask of a gorilla, Abeokuta.
Hornbill mask. British Museum, London (1942 Af 7.11).
Hornbill mask. Bernisches Historisches Museum (60).
Bird mask with a mudfish in its mouth. Musée d’Ethnographie de
Genéve (33308).
Mask with a banana stalk on top. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(58.15.8a).
Mask with a banana stalk on top. British Museum, London
(1942 Af 7.24).
Deified ancestral priestess mask (Iya Yemoja) and Efe mask,
Abeokuta.
Deified ancestral priestess masquerade (Iju Ejide), Joga.
Deified ancestral priestess masquerade (Iya Odua), Haro.
Double-faced mask representing twins, Ilaro.
Double-faced mask of the deified mother of small children (Eyini),
Abeokuta.
Two Magbo (Agbo) masks for the Ekine society of Mahin. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (57.25.1a and 1b).
Okooro masquerader, Agbo masquerade festival, Iebuland,
Odomola.
Agbo masquerader in performance, Ijebuland, Akio.
Ejiwa mask used in performances for the Idejo chiefs of Lagos.
Nigerian Museum archives (neg. nos. 7.12.4 and 5).
Brazilian Gelede mask. Didi and Juana dos Santos Collection.
Brazilian Gelede mask. Didi and Juana dos Santos Collection.
Brazilian Gelede mask. Didi and Juana dos Santos Collection.
Gelede patron with her masks and twin figures, Ilaro.
Old Gelede mask used as a memorial shrine piece, Haro.
160. Masquerader dancing with a woman balancing a basin on her head,
Ilaro.
X1V Plates

Gelede masks on an Ogun shrine, Ilaro.

Priestess of the deity Are standing alongside a masquerader who
represents her, Ilaro.
Mask surmounted by an Egungun masquerader with his attendant,
Sawonjo.
Apasa mask, Imasai.
Mask with a Sango priestess, [laro.
Mask with a large entwined snake. Museum ftir Volkerkunde, Ber-
lin (IVC 41127):
Early mask by the same carver as that in plate 159. Bernisches
Historisches Museum (36).
Masquerader peering from underneath his mask, [laro.
A Gelede society member repainting his mask, Ilaro.
Mask adorned with land snails. Museum ftir V6lkerkunde, Basel
(III 12681).
P RoE eA CE

Gelédé masquerades are lavish spectacles of carved wooden headpieces,

cloth costumes, dances, songs, and drumming found principally among
western Yoruba peoples in Nigeria and Benin (see map, p. xxiv). Accord-
ing to tradition, Gelede began in the latter part of the eighteenth century
among the Ketu Yoruba, spreading rapidly to other Yoruba groups and,
as a consequence of the nineteenth-century Atlantic slave trade, to the
dispersed Yoruba of Sierra Leone, Cuba, and Brazil. Gelede’s fame is
proverbial. Yoruba say, “The eyes that have seen Gelede have seen the
ultimate spectacle.” Such spectacles occur annually when the first rains
fall and in times of communal distress, such as famine, or as funeral
commemorations, occasions when communities entertain and pay hom-
age to the forces operating in the Yoruba cosmos.
The etymology of the word Gelede reveals its central concerns and its
ultimate significance. Gé means “to soothe, to placate, to pet or coddle”;
ele refers to a woman’s s private parts, ‘those that Syrlollac women’s secrets
=

and their life-giving powers; and dé connotes “to_soften with care or_
gentleness.” Together these ideas convey the Significance ofGelede-per
formances car onceived executed to pay homage to women |
that the community m rtake of theirinnaf its be
Consisting of nighttime (Efé) and daytime (Gelede) performances, |
these masquerades represent a highly visible, artistic expression of a pan-
Yoruba belief: that women; primarily elderly women, possess certain
extraordinary power equal to or greater than that of the gods and ances-
tors, a view that is reflected | in praises acknowledging them as “our

bring health, wealth, and fertility to the land and iits say, orG they can
bring disaster—epidemic, drought, pestilence.
As a phenomenon that essentially belongs to the mothers, Gelede
provides an elaborate aesthetic and symbolic system within which to ex-
plore and evaluate the concepts and images of women in an African
society and women’s spiritual and social roles in Yoruba culture. Scholars
have presented nwo _perspectives about/women in Yoruba society:Ons =

1962; Sudarkasa 1973; Lloyd 1963); the other deals primarily with WitHeeler)

XV
 XV1 Preface

“witchcraft” (Prince 1961; Morton-Williams 1956, 1964; Hoch-Smith

1978). The first view neglects the relationship between beliefs about
women’s spiritual power and their social roles. The second focuses nar-
rowly on witchcraft, or rather on negative aspects of female power, thus
leaving the impression that Yoruba women who are perceived to be pow-
erful are necessarily regarded as antisocial. With the exception of Pierre
Verger (1965) and Rowland Abiodun (1976, 1981), who examine images
of women’s spiritual power in oral tradition and in art, the literature on
the roles and images of women in Yoruba culture does not provide a
viewpoint adequate for understanding the Gelede phenomenon.
With the sanction of the mothers, Gelede has the performative
power to marshall the forces in the Yoruba cosmos for society’s well-
being. It is at once spectacle and ritual. It is entertaining and it is
~ efficacious. But it is perceived to be more than a mode of persuasion. Itis |
an instrument with which the “gods of society” maintain social control.
\ Gelede spectacle thus exhibits social concerns and brings society’s
desires into actual existence through lavish visual and musical assertions.
With the mothers’ concurrence, it Comments on male and female roles in
society, on traditional and contemporary fashions, and on innovations
and achievements. It likewise criticizes antisocial individuals and deeds.
The art forms that constitute Gelede comment on society both indepen-
dently and collectively to produce a complex multifaceted phenomenon.
A perfor mance involves space as well as time; and seeing as well as hear-
ing, in addition to the other senses. To understand the content of Gelede
performance, that is, the ideas it affirms, is to understand its creative
capacity to shape the world in which it periodically exists.
Much research has been done on performance in the area of the
verbal arts (cf. Ben-Amos and Goldstein 1975, Bauman 1977, and LaPin
1977), but those who study the visual arts in Africa tend merely to de-
scribe performance as a background against which to study sculpture.

views the whole as a text of which art objects are but one element; it
ees examines the art forms of Gelede both independently and collectively. _
NealAN?
v, “oth =~ Alter attending and.
d documenting our first few Gelede perform-
ve f 7 zances, we became aware that conventional practices of surveying and
ue ’ generalizing about performances were inadequate. Types of masquerad-
val1G ers differ from town to town, particularly the night masqueraders; there
also is variation in costuming styles, dance styles, performance formats,
and among the deities associated with Gelede. While generalizations may
provide an overview of the Gelede phenomenon in broad cultural terms,
they leave a number of questions unanswered. How does the researcher
reconcile all the elements that do not fit the generality? How does one
account for diversity? And, equally important, how do Yoruba them-

‘ ———s ba py oF Grae NnAlsty

 Preface XVil

selves regard different ways of performing the same ritual? We set out in 4 yy \S ie Ma
ili
A
search of the norm and instead we were struck by the diversity.
In response to the complexity of the situation, we devised a method-
ology at once synchronic and diachronic. In addition to a systematic
analysis of the constituent media that make up Gelede performance
throughout western Yorubaland, we also collected historical material on
Gelede societies, families, and towns. Concentrating on case studies, we
documented oral traditions and personal histories in order to determine
the source of these variations. We found for example,
, that the area of
Yorubaland known as Egbado is made up of peoples who trace their
origins at various historical periods to Kétu, Oy6, Ohori, and even Nupe
and Egiin countries. The traditions of Egbado reflect these many origins.
From quarter to quarter within a town and even from compound to
compound, the deities worshipped vary significantly. Case studies of the : yy Lee)

smallest social unit, the family or lineage, reveal great diversity of origins D i ONAL

and intermingling of traditions that often defy broad generalizations and

structuralist explanations.
Furthermore, kinship, inheritance, and divination play important
roles in shaping ritual practice Ink
Inheritance provides continuity, but divi-
nation opens the system to possibilities outside lineage traditions. In addi-
tion, such events in individuals’ lives as chronic illness, special births, and
accidents require adjustments and adaptations in patterns of worship.
Frequently researchers hear from the people they study, “We must
do the ritual as our ancestors did it.” They often take the statement as
evidence of the static nature of African cultures and art. But when con-
sidered in light of individual case studies and the diversity that, in fact,
exists, the statement suddenly takes on another dimension. One’s own
ancestors, after all, were different people from almost everybody else’s.
The Yoruba family, like every family the world over, is the product of
numerous personalities, some more dominant than others, and their
cumulative experiences and accomplishments. Each family is unique.
Each bears the identity of its own particular past, and it is this unique
Ae ad a al iomendcetedausieally every celebration in
Yoruba society. It emerges in praise poetry of lineages and their
forebears and in songs, dances, music, and masquerades that not only
affirm appropriate social behavior but, perhaps more important, are tes-
taments of individuality, creativity, status, and personal achievement. PACrnuHs
Thus, men and women are as much SS they are prod-
KE
FU,
ucts of it. Historically, traditions are formulated on the basis of self-
interestas much as on sanctioned social norms and social structure.
Our ultimate goals iin writing this book are: (1) to examine Gelede
performance, analyzing its constituent media in detail as a means of
perceiving the artistic and communicative value of the whole; (2) to set
 XVill Preface

Gelede into its larger cultural and historical context; (3) to provide an
integrated view of women’s social and spiritual roles; and (4) as a balance
to the dominant cultural and social perspective present in the literature
on art and ritual, to investigate the relationship of Gelede to individuals,
families, and individual communities. It is at this fourth level of analysis,
within the context of the specific and the individual, that performance
becomes creative and, as a consequence, that Gelede achieves variety and
diversity throughout western Yorubaland. We are, therefore, interested
in Gelede not only as a product of Yoruba culture but also as a forum for
individual, familial, and communal self-expression and creativity.

Notes on Sources and Methodology

In our research we utilized numerous written sources, published and

unpublished, by various individuals who have researched Gelede in dif-
ferent areas of western Yorubaland. The Nigerian National Museum
archives contain much information on specific towns, most of it collected
from the field by the late K. C. Murray between the 1930s and the 1950s.
Murray generously provided us with two letters from Reverend A. F.
Beyioku, former Osunba of the Egbado Gelede society, dated 1943 and
1946, containing details of Gelede history and performance in Lagos.
The oral history and practice of Gelede in Ketu and nearby towns were
documented by Father Thomas Moulero, who permitted us to take notes
ona handwritten manuscript he had prepared for Etudes Dahoméennes. It
never appeared in print because the journal ceased publication. Father
Moulero has since died and the whereabouts of the manuscript is un-
known. Chapter 7, which considers Gelede history, draws on these
sources in particular.
In addition to these data, comparative material is cited on Gelede
performances witnessed by several scholars in various places. Ulli Beier
(1958) provides an account of Gelede in Ketu and Porto Novo, while
Peggy Harper (1970) details Gelede in the town of Ijié. Harper’s study
accompanies a film by Frank Speed entitled Gelede: A Yoruba Masquerade
(1968). A. Olabimtan (1970) offers some useful information on Gelede in
ilar6, and Robert F. Thompson (1971; 1974a) describes performances in
Ajilété and Isalé Ek6 respectively. i her cultural history of a Yoruba
kingdom in Benin (R.P.B.), Monserrat Palau-Marti (1979:934—-938)
characterizes Gelede in Sabé.
Data for a historical perspective of Gelede derive in large part from
oral tradition. The writings of Morton-Williams (1964a), Parrinder
(1967), Folayan (1967), Law (1977), and Adamu (1978), among others,
provide historical reconstructions of western Yorubaland; these too are
 Preface xix

based largely on oral tradition, but as Robin Law (1977:24) points out,
“Oral traditions no less than written sources can be subjected to rational
appraisal, and made to yield information of value to the historian.” Much
research remains to be done, particularly in collecting detailed lineage
histories of Gelede members throughout western Yorubaland.
The field data upon which this study is based come from several
types of sources: par ticipant/observation, visual art and dance, vernacu-
lar oral literature, and interviews with participants. The vast majority of
interviews were with those who could|provide a historical perspective and
special knowledge concerning Gelede by virtue of their seniority and
participation. Topics covered included town, lineage, and Gelede history;
beliefs associated with Gelede; and matters of performance. Interviews
were not fixed, rather a list of topics served as a framework within which
informants were allowed to elaborate upon aspects of special interest to
them or about which they were particularly knowledgeable (for example,
composers discussed songs and drummers discussed dance rhythms).
Further, we witnessed as many Gelede performances as we could
and collected information from participants, recording their descriptions
of what happens during a Gelede festival and their views and interpreta-
tions of different aspects of performance. We were thus able to docu-
ment to a certain extent performances in places where we were unable to
view them firsthand. Fortunately, over the years we have witnessed
numerous Gelede performances—in some cases more than one per town.
We filmed many of the performances and now have approximately
85 minutesof dance footage representing about 4o danced segments
from seven ceremonies in various places. We photographed masks, cos-
tumes, and dances; and we taped songs and drumming. During inter-
views or at festivals, we collected Efe songs and verbalized rhythms, and
we transcribed them in Yoruba with both word-for-word and colloquial
translation into English. Explanatory notes provided by the informant
usually accompanied them.
Sites where we have observed and documented Gelede include Ketu
MM and the nearby towns of Idahin and Idofa; Keti in Ohori country;
Igbogila, Sawonjo, Joga, Igan-Okoto, Imasai, Ilaro, and Emado Quarter
in Aiyétoro, and Ibara Quarter in Abeokuta, all of which consider them-
' selves Egbado; Ipokia among the Anago; and Isale-Eko in Lagos. In
addition to conducting interviews in these places, we also interviewed
Gelede participants on matters of performance and on local traditions
and histories, collected Efe songs, and photographed masks in the towns
_of Ofia, Iara, Ijale-Ketu, and Ika in the Ketu vicinity; Iwoyé, Isaba,
Igbemé-Ile, Ohumbe, and Ibaiyun among the Ohori; the Anago towns of
Pobe and Agosasa; the Awori towns of Ota and Igbésa; and among the
 XX Preface

Egbado in the towns of Imala, Hogun, Kesan, Sala, [boro, Ibesé, Ajilete,
and [l6bi and in individual quarters of Aiyetoro—Aibo, Idofoi, Hlogun,
and Ketu—where there are separate societies. We also photographed
Gelede masks in 45 museums in the United States, Europe, Nigeria, and
Benin.

Acknowledgments

During twelve years of research on Gelede, we have benefited enor-

mously from the assistance of numerous institutions and the encourage-
ment, counsel, and wisdom of many friends and colleagues. We are
pleased to acknowledge the Institute of African Studies, Columbia Uni-
versity, for a grant in 1970; the Institute for Intercultural Studies, Inc.,
for grants in 1970, 1973, and 1975; Cleveland State University for faculty
research grants in 1974, 1975, 1980, and 1981; and the National Endow-
ment for the Humanities for a Fellowship for Independent Study and
Research in 1977-78 (Grant F77-42) and for a Basic Research Grant in
1981 (Grant RO-20072-81-2184). We wish to thank the Institutes of Afri-
can Studies of the universities of If€ and Ibadan for research affiliations
during the periods of our work in Nigeria and Benin.
Of the countless individuals who have contributed to this work, \we
wish to express our gratitude to Paula Ben-Amos, Douglas Fraser,
Dierdre LaPin, Margaret Mead, Melvin Peters, and Robert Farris
Thompson for reading earlier versions of this work and contributing
valuable editorial suggestions. We are also grateful to Ekpo Eyo, Robert
G. Armstrong, S. O. Biobaku, J. R. O. Ojo, Babatunde Lawal, ‘Bisi
Afolayan, Howard Wildman, Lamidi Sofenwa, Laurier Nadeau, Ron
Howarth, Frank Speed, and Solomon Wangboje for encouraging and
facilitating our research in Africa and to Didi and Juana dos Santos for
assistance with Gelede research in Brazil. We also wish to thank Louise
Boston and Edward McNeely of Cleveland State University’s Computer
Center for advice in preparing the manuscript and Ganiyu Sanni and
Kolawole QOsitola for checking the Yoruba orthography. For research
assistance in the field, we gratefully acknowledge Samuel Akinfenwa and
Raimi Akaki Taiwo. And, especially, to Kolawole Ositola and Rowland
Abiodun, we wish to express our deep appreciation for many enlighten-
ing conversations on Yoruba art and culture. They, together with Foluso
and Carole Longe and Lea Abiodun, have been unfailing in their friend-
ship, hospitality, and generosity. Finally, we wish to thank all those—
many of whom are cited in the text—who contribute to the richness of
Gelede and who were willing to share their knowledge and experience
with us.
NOTE ON. OR THO GRAPHY

Tone marks are given the first time a Yoruba word is cited and also
throughout Yoruba texts, whether songs, proverbs, or verbal drum
rhythms. The Yoruba orthography used generally follows that of Abra-
ham (1958), which is based on the Oyo dialect. However, texts collected
in Egbado, Ketu, Ohori, and Anago are presented in their original
dialectic form. The translations of these data are based upon the explana-
tions and interpretations of those who provided them.

Xxi
ap \ eae
GELEOE
 BORGU

|
* Igboho os

|
* Saki

* llorin

NIGERIA

* Ogbomoso

Iy10
*Iganna
elseyin

New Oyo

IBARAPA
Lanlate
°
\jaye
Eruwa ?

Idahin *idere
KETU air Imeko
Idofae * * Igbo Ora Ibadan elle Ife
Ketu* sofia ! % IFE
Imala *Apomu
ke
vee = ale Ketu Atyetoro ¢Tibo
* Abomey a OHORI wz = Aibo** .
lwoye ¢lsagba oun feljaka Kesan Orile \.e Abeokuta
ak * *Aba | "Ika * Ibara Orile
FON me av, we Joga* *\Isaga GBA
‘
we SAWON © s imasai E
Igbogila * a
i
4 Ibaiyun OURES ‘
ESS ed Itolu “anna “a
*Ohumbe eKsilaro ro)

« Allada ANAGO EGBADO

\ \jebu Ode
.
Sakete * | Ihumbo * lob: IJEBU
Ifonyine! Per * Akio

A * Ado Odo . Odomola

* Agosasa ares
*Ipokia gee
* Porto Novo ” Oto
u « Badagri

Whydah *

i Kumi swamp

EGBADO cultural group

Pobe town

BENIN Country

International Boundary
 Yoruba Spectacle

The eyes that have seen Gelede

have seen the ultimate spectacle.
Oj to ba ri Gélédé ti de opin iron.

This saying, well known even in parts of Yorubaland where Gelede does
not exist, suggests something of Gelede’s widespread reputation and its
impact on spectators. But what do Yoruba mean by spectacle (iron)? In its
broadest sense, spectacle is a fleeting, transitory phenomenon. It may be
a display or performance for the gods, _ancestors,-or the mothers; but it
may also refer to mental 1images. Thus, the Yoruba word forépectacle is
the same word used/to speak of a ‘mystical vision (ojiidiron or ojtit iron) or
the power of visions (7réiron, literally “act of seeing visions”) (Abraham
1958:317). Similarly, cron is used in referring to a remembrance (inétron,
aly
Ames
“a mental recollection”). It is perhaps partially in this sense that certain
kinds of narratives (ald) are considered spectacles, for storytelling creates ~perte(Zp
“the illusion of actualized events” (LaPin 1980:2). A story is a spectacle in ¢CFSTE.

the sense that it is visible through the storyteller’s dramatization, and the
spectator visualizes it further in his mind’s eye. Thus Dierdre LaPin’s
informants referred to certain types of narrative as pictures (adworon or a
wo iron), images to be looked at.
As a vision, aS a remembrance, as a narrative, or as a festival or a
display for the gods, ancestors, or the mothers—these various usages of
the term iron have something in common: they imply, as LaPin says
(1980:7-8), “a mysterious, permanent dimension of reality which, until
revealed, is shut off from ae ey ” They are otherworldly
phenomena whose worldly ma ry_and_periodi-_
ella reintroduced or regenerated.
 GELEDE
2

Perhaps for this reason the term iron also is used to designate “a
ee generation.” A generation consists of the members of a lineage (idélé) who
TH Pe Le5nare born into the world at approximately the same time, whose children

DAS pe images and ideas converging in the same time frame. The cumulation of
SCANT generations constitutes a lineage, that is, both the living and the de-
parted who trace their origins to a common progenitor. Continuity or
regeneration is implicit in the concept oflineage; a generation represents
one of its diachronic units. Thus the notion of continuity within a lineage
is expressed /’iron d’iron, “from generation to generation.” A generation 1s
the worldly manifestation of a lineage, just as spectacle.is the worldly
Cal KYO pe ae of a permanent otherworldly reality. Like spectacle, a gen-
rs GEO Jer is temporary, transitory,
and cyclical.
The transitory nature of existence in the world is expressed in the
Yoruba proverb “The world is a market, the otherworld is home” (Azyé
V'oja, run n’ilé). The market as a metaphor for the world evokes an image
of a place one merely visits, whereas home or the afterworld is a perma-
nek iy Uiirarpirds residence. The notion that Se ee
OF STHNC Ma estations of ermanent, metaphysical realities can be demonstrated in a
Pi Sot, Ry. number of specific contexts. ‘The most explicit example is possession
WAtrance, when during ceremonies the gods become manifest in the world
in the bodies of their devotees. Other examples of temporary manifesta-
tions of the supernatural occur in the masquerade performances of an-
cestral spirits, Egungun, and in Gelede.
Evidence of the otherworldliness of Yoruba spectacle, whether it is a
masquerade display, a festival for the gods, or a narrative performance, is
to be found in its clearly demarcated openings and closings, which bring
it into the world and return it or “carry it away” again, i.e., back to the
otherworld (érun). Hence, Egungun society members explained that their
own masquerade spectacle opens at night when all nonmembers lock
themselves in their houses. At that time, in the center of the town, a spirit
known as Agan, who must not be seen by anyone, brings the festival into
the world. The chants that accompany Agan’s coming hint at the spirit’s
elusive, otherwortdly entry into the world by making an analogy to the
way rain falls on the earth:

I come weréweré [small, quick, light, 1.e., drizzling] like the early night
rain
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
I come kutukutu [forceful and quick, i.e., pouring] like the early
morning rain
Yoruba Spectacle

Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
I come papapa (large, heavy sporadic drops] like the rain at sunrise
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
The eyes of the blacksmith cannot see underneath the ground of his
shed
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
The eyes of the potter cannot see the inside of clay
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
Meémémé cries the female goat
Bobo cries the female sheep
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
I get up early in the morning
I bring dew from the otherworld to earth
I descend rururdrdrt [the sound of walking through wet grasses]
Mariw6oo! Aganéoo!
I come with cudgels, a sheath, a sword
Mariwéoo! Aganéoo!
Grasp it! Nothing’s there!
Grasp it! Nothing!
Grasp it! Nothing!
Amamamamamamama!
Be looking! We are looking!
Be looking! We are looking!
Be looking! We are looking!
Mo dé weréweré hi ejt ori alé
Mariwéoo! Aganéoo!
Mo dé hutukutu bi ejt awiird
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
Mo dé papapa bi ejé iyaléta
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
Oju alagbéde ko to’le aro
Oj amokoko ko to’le amo
Mémémé nighe ewtiré
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
Bobo nighe agutan
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
Moji léroru kutukutu
Mogbé enini brun w’aryé
Mo wo rururururu
Mariwéoo! Aganéoo!
Mo dé togbé t’ogo t'ako tida
Mariwooo! Aganéoo!
Gbamu! Of6!
Gbami! Of6!
Gbdamu! Of6!
Amamamamamamama!
’
 4 GELEDE

Ema wa! Anwa!

Ema wa! Anwa!
Ema wa! Anwa!
[Collected in Haro, 1977]

This invocation makes use of idiophonic language to simulate actual

dynamic qualities, qualities likened to the way rain falls. But, according to
Yoruba thought, its role is hot_merely poetic_or symbolic? rather it in-
vokes or brings1pst the spirit intoexistence at the threshold of the phenome-
Ly
ty)nal world* Agan enters at the center of the town, but in Yoruba thought
FAa
she center is the place where the material and the spiritual realms in-
Al tersect (cf. M. T. Drewal 1975 and Abiodun 198ob); it is the crossroads,
orita (ort ita), literally “the head or the point of intersection.” Its entry is
Ne \(lelusive and enigmatic, like sudden rain. This elusiveness is highlighted by
the fact that no one must see Agan; it comes only after the townspeople,
for fear of death, lock themselves inside. Its presence is made known
through sounds rather than sights. Finally, at the close of the festival,
another spirit, called Aranta or Olodtingbodun (literally “The-Owner-of-
the-Festival-Takes-the-Festival”) carries the spectacle back to the
otherworld.__ eae kn
uly animation Yoruba spectacle is alsoiimplied_in
the generic name given fo rst
rhythms played by the bata drum
ensemble during Egungun displays or festivals for Sangd, Oya, and other
deities. These introductory rhythms are called aliwadsi, a contraction of
the phrase a lu wa si avyé (literally “drums come into the world”). A
sacrifice is performed before the festival begins to put the drums into a
ritually transcendent state, and at the close a “cooling” rite (étwtw) is per-
formed to restore them to normalcy.
LaPin (1980:12—14) has recorded opening and closing formulas of a
similar nature in storytelling.' She notes that

The metaphorical assertion that d/6 is like a jinn (spirit, dead person) is
given further weight in the formulaic verses that open and close many
performances. . . . Introductory formulas to the alé develop the notion
that the mode is a separate ontological entity that undergoes trans-
formation and rebirth in the body of the performer. [An introductory
formula] acts in an incantatory sense as a catalyst which dislodges the
al6 from its home in an upper region, somewhere between heaven and
earth. Thus shaken out of its slumbering state, the alé suddenly
lurches into action.

Such opening and closing conventions confirm that spectacle is perceived

to be a transitory, worldly manifestation of an otherworldly reality, just as
a generation is the worldly manifestation of the Yoruba lineage, which is
eternal.
 Yoruba Spectacle 5

As an otherworldly phenomenon, spectacle partakes of a dynamic px fea

force that makes it not merely affe¢ung but also efficacious, not merely
b or metaphorical bufinstrumental of. Ray 1973). It possesses the
symbolic We 3spOF
(oiex
performative power of dse,“the power to bring things into actual exis- aeao/,
tence.” This concept is fundamental to Yoruba thought. Variously
defined as “power, authority, command” (Abraham 1958:71), “a coming
to pass .. . effect; imprecation” (Crowther 1852:47), ase has important Kb May
metaphysical dimensions but(ng mor: al
connotations It is neither positive CONNSTLT
nor negative, neither good Gor bad, but rather is an activating force or
ONNOTH TW
energy. Ase encompasses both the expression ddse, which follows prayers
and invocations and affirms “so be it, may it come to pass,” as well as asé,
“shrine,” the site of concentrated substances containing vital force—
herbs, foods, blood of animals—which attract and stimulate a god’s
power. Ase is absolute power and potential present in all things—rocks,
hills, streams, mountains, leaves, animals, sculpture, ancestors, and
gods—and in utterances—prayers, songs, curses, and even everyday
speech.
Utterances, as expressions of the spiritual inner self of an individual,
possess (ase,) the ower to bring things into actual existence. This belief is
apparently pre oe Ate DSA ITSee aE ek sacrificial
victims who are gagged to prevent them from uttering a fatal curse upon
their executioners (Willett 1967:49; Awolalu 1973:88).’ As Ulli Beier
one 49) explains, _——
ppatiescl Se

Yoruba believe strongly lhepowertthe

wan rather in a myste- Ashe
ow
@ rious force called ashe. that quality in a man’s personality which
makes his words—orice Brea trons true.

Raymond Prince (1960:66) confirms,

It would appear that their background conception is that utter

to the
nameof something may draw that something into actual existence . . .
not only within the mind and body of he who utters and he who hears
the word, but also in the physical world as well.

And according to J. A. A. Ayoade (1979:51),

The second and more difficult level [in evoking spirit forces] is that in
which the spirit forces still remain dormant until cae are called foe

i eressence totan objecta

the ‘inner
concretizing 1

In this way, the spirit Agan is invoked to bring the Egungun festival into
the world. Similarly, in Yoruba incantations (9f0) chanted during the
 6 GELEDE

preparation or application of medicines (odgin) to invoke the dynamic

essences of all their ingredients, a monosyllabic action verb drawn from
each ingredient’s name is pronounced following that name to set the
ingredient into action (Verger 1976).
Words possess a dynamic unleashed in the act of pronouncing, thus
activating latent forces through effective patterns of stresses—the combi-
nation of tone, duration of syllables, and vocal force. This power is espe-
cially evident in the voicing of idiophonic words, or what S. A. Babalola
(1966:67-68) calls(“word-pictures,” words that by their very sound and
») intensity evoke mental pictures, such as those cited above to invoke the_
VE hWH Egungun spirit Agan. Thus, words and phrases not only carry meaning
through their definitions and relationships to each other, but carry

act of pronouncing. By this means, latent forces, or rather forces residing y

in the otherworld, may be brought into existence, into the phenomenal
6 world. This power is most obvious in incantations and invocations, but it
OW: Ane) is also explicit in a variety of other verbal arts performances, including
Z 2) . . . . . . .

ACB those of Efe night.

INO P esp p-
The spoken word carries the power to bring things into being, espe-
AIMS cially when uttered by the aldase, “one who has and uses ase,” during
invocations and sacrifices. Blood also contains ase. ‘he
shedding of blood
\ yy in ritual sacrifices, which precedes ceremonies for the gods, ancestors, or
DO. _ the mothers, releases a vital force that is transferred to the god or spirit to
renew
}
eco
his or herase for the purpose ofbenefiting
: :
the devotees.
:
Blood or MLE
ase 18 also poured on ritual objects associated with a deity to infuse them G
with power. The act of sacrifice is a reciprocal affair between man and the
CART
gods in which the devotee nurtures the spirit of the divinity in exchange
Pay for increased protection and blessing (cf. Awolalu 1979:134—-142).
i "Mth All sacrifice, however, need not be bloody. When prescribed by a
diviner, performance is sacrifice, for it requires great expense on the part
ee of the supplicants. Thus, a diviner may instruct a client to sacrifice by
~
giving a cloth to Egungun in order to conceive a child. In effect, the
individual must create a masquerade and perform with the Egungun

i
Wen As. society during its festivities. Likewise, the community may be told to j
sacrifice in order to appeal to the spiritually powerful women, and this
obligation will be met by performing Gelede. Art is sacrifice,/and artistic
i

9 Pa¢
displays carry the sacred power to bring things into existence.
The fundamental concept of life force—that it exists in many forms
and manifestations and in varying amounts—is at the foundation of
Yoruba philosophy and social organization (cf. Drewal and Drewal 1980).
The system acknowledges innate individual power and potential. Simi-
larly, the concept of ase is basic to the structure of the arts, whether verbal
 Yoruba Spectacle 7
or visual, a structure in which the units of the whole are discrete and
share equal value and importance with the other units and in which the
autonomous segments evoke, and often invoke and activate, diverse
forces. So far, this concept has been demonstrated in the opening and
closing segments, which bring spectacle “into the world” from its other-
worldly realm and carry it away again. This type of organization or com-
positional style is seriate.° — iff
Seriality is a fundamental organizing principle in Yoruba spectacle as eid Wey
well ‘as in praise poetry, invocations, incantations, textile designs, body “!=
tattoos, and sculpture (cf. H. J. Drewal 1977b:6—8; Drewal and Drewal hah
1980). Attention to the discrete units of the whole in any medium pro-
duces an overall form that tends to be multifocal, often characterized by a
shifting perspective. Its outer features—whether its units are arranged
spatially or temporally—include clearly demarcated openings and clos-
ings, segmentation, discontinuity, free rhythm, repetition, and density of
meaning.® Other concepts of performance will become evident as we
examine Gelede as the “ultimate” in spectacle.

The Spectacle of Gelede

Gelede, found principally among western Yoruba peoples (including
those of Ketu, Ohori, Anago, Ifonyin, Awori, Egbado, Ibarapa, and
Sabe), varies greatly as.a result of historical factors and inherited and
acquired worship patterns within lineages. In each town, it is generally
associated with a deified founding foremother, either an earth or a water
deity, and a deified forefather. Other gods, such as Ogun and
Esu/Elégba, may also be honored, and individual Gelede families addi- |Fu
tionally sacrifice to their own lineage gods. Despite local variations, the
fundamental urpose of Gelede spectacle ts to pay tribute to an St
fore to deriv An elderly participant x
(Ogundipe 1971) points out: DAWZ
NAITS
The gods of Gelede are so called “the great ancestral mothers”... . VR FA L
The power of The Great Mother is manifold. The ancestors, when Mystical Pew?
they had a problem, would assemble to determine the cause and the
remedy . . . and, if it is found that Gelede should be done to bring
about rain or the birth of children, it should be done and it will be so.
The Great Mother has power in many things. . . . [She] is the owner of
everything in the world. She owns you. We must not say how the whole
thing works.

The Gelede spectacle honors and serves spiritually powerful

 8 GELEDE

women—elders, ancestors, and deities. Thus, “the Gelede which we

dance is for our great grandmothers whom we call drisa_egbé [gods of
society] to have a collective name” (Babalola 1971). The tern Loge
to both Yoruba saciety_as< ole and the secret society
of powerful old
_ women who can transform themselves into birds at night ;and hold meet-
anes ings in the forest.’ These women are commonly known as “our mothers”
Sc |
ey yawon iyd wa), an endearment that recognizes that “we all came out of a
~woman’s body” (Ayodele 1971). As one Gelede elder points out (Ogun-
dipe 1971), they can be destructive, “but we must not call them that. We
call them mother. If they did not exist, we could not come into the
world.” These statements imply something much more fundamental__
“than female fertility and fecundity. They claim that women possess the
/ secret of life itself, the knowledge and special power to bring human
beings into the world and to remove them. This knowledge applies not
(only to gestation and childbirth but also to longevity. It is a sign of
women’s power that they live to be very old, often outliving men. Their
knowledge of life and death demands that Yoruba herbalists in prepar-
ing medicines seek their support. A priestess (Edun 1975) comments,

If the mothers are annoyed, they can turn the world upside down.
When an herbalist goes to collect a root at the foot of a tree, the
mothers put it up. And when he climbs up for a leaf, the mothers put it
down.

The power of the mothers is equal or superior to that of the gods,

for, as a number of informants suggest, the mothers own and control the
gods. As the king of a small Egbado town (Adeleye 1971) comments in
English:

Our mothers will not come out openly and say, I want so and so from
you. They may be worrying someone until that person goes to a di-
viner, when it will come out that it is a witch that is worrying the
person. Then the oracle will prescribe so many things. . . . They
[diviners] have certain means to do sacrifice. If they [the mothers] are
worrying somebody, they can hide under an idol. So when someone
goes to the oracle—it may be [to] Sango or Oya—it means that the
woman is fighting the patient through Sango or Oya. Then if some-
thing is offered through that idol, the woman will be satisfied.

Another elder explains further (Babalola 1971):

If there is an epidemic, we sacrifice to all the gods of the town. We try
to conciliate them. All the mothers are the owners of all these gods.
After making sacrifices to the gods, the mothers would know that we
have begged them. After giving them something to eat there will be no
more trouble.
1. Recreating Orunmila’s mythic journey into the realm of the
mothers, the Gelede performer dances with a mask, head ties,
and leg rattles. Ilaro, 1978.
 2. Oro Efe wears a headdress, a
veil, cloth panels, and a hunter's
jerkin, and he flashes his whisks,
blessing the spectators as he sings.
Sawonjo, 1978.

3. The back view of Oro Efe’s

costume reveals appliquéd cloth
panels and, on his headdress, a
carved leather panel. At his feet,
hunters load their guns for a
salute. Sawonjo, 1978.
4. Layers of women’s head ties fly outward as the dancer turns
rapidly. Ilaro, 1977.
 (aki
Staal bs
osaaah i

5. In the Ketu region, masqueraders often incorporate

elaborately embroidered and appliquéd cloth panels into their
costumes. Idahin, 1971.

6. This embroidered, appliquéd wrapper shows several

horizontal registers of images, including soldiers, colonial
officials, hunters, people shaking rattles, and bicyclists. Sawonjo,
1978.
 7. A Ketu male Gelede wears a
large bamboo hoop around his
chest covered with women’s head
ties, thus creating a massive
cylinder of cloth. Idahin, 1971.

8. An Egbado male Gelede

combines remnants of worn-out
appliquéd panels from an old
costume, a long-sleeved jacket, and
a mass of knotted head ties.
Sawonjo, 1978.
g. The biplane is a technological innovation that hints
at the _
spiritual 1 pe
potential of Europeans and exem Sr
ANSTANCEXCMPUME ere
NSU ;
uséOfpower. Lagos, 1978. —
ee
10. On this mask, a large snake
encircles a priestess and other
worshippers. Such superstructures
can be interchanged; compare this
mask and the one in plate 111.
Sawonjo, 1978.

11. During performance, the

masquerader uses a long strip of
cloth to balance a large
superstructure (side view of
masquerader in plate 10).
12. Gelede patrons in some regions prefer traditional pigments
made of various organic substances, including eggs. Lagos, 1978.

ae le

13. Although it is fairly uncommon, verisimilitude seems to be a

concern in these masks, painted in brown tones to approximate
skin color. Lagos, 1978.
 Yoruba Spectacle 9

And as a female Gelede cult leader told Beier (1958:7):

No orisha [god] can do good, without the mothers. The mothers could
spoil any good action if they wanted to. Therefore Sango himself
cannot help his worshippers without permission of the mothers. The
prophesies of the Babalawo [diviner] will come to naught, if he has not
appeased the mothers. Oro and Egun cannot kill without the mothers.

A priestess confirms (Edun 1975):

Ifa is senior to them [the eee (alagbdra won), but aside from Ifa,
nothing is elder to them... . They are(more powerful than any ae

These comments by western Yoruba enc: are not Gelede-centric,

for Verger (1965) collected a number of detailed divination verses,
primarily from the Osogbo area, that attest to female suzerainity at the
very creation of the world. In one of these myths from osa méji
(1965:204), Olddumaré gave woman (Odv) control over the gods on the
condition that she use her enormous power with care, calm, and discre-
tion (mda rora lo réélo agbadra). When she abused this power Olodumare
gave it to Orisanla, her male companion, decreeing that he would exer-
cise it but that the woman would retain control over it (Verger 1965:142).
In southeastern Yorubaland, an Ijebu diviner (QOsitola 1982) explains
that it was Odu, a wife of the first diviner, who loved her husband
Orunmila so much that she revealed to him the knowledge of divination
so that man could communicate with the spirit realm. And Rowland
Abiodun (1976:1), relying primarily on central and eastern Yoruba
sources, writes ANGS
oH
It is believed that from the beginning, the creator-God put women in
charge of all the good things on earth. Without their sanction, no
healing can take place, rain cannot fall, plants cannot bear fruits and
children cannot come into the world.

Because of the mystical power of women, devotees of the gods and

ancestors seek them out and encourage them to attend rituals. Their very
presence is efficacious. Ajé—a generally perjorative term—is used rarely
and
caution.
with No one would address a woman suspected of posses-
sing such power as qje, not just out of fear but because such women also
work positive wonders. Therefore they are called “our mothers” (awon tya
LEM
ol TORS
wa) and are addressed personally with “my mother” (iydém?) or “old and
wise one” (iyé agbda) in recognition of their positive dimension as protec-
tive progenitors, héalers (MacLean 1969:37), and guardians of morality,
social order, and the just apportionment of power, wealth, and prestige
(Verger 1965:159). It is in this last capacity, as guardians of society, that
the mothers are central to Gelede spectacle.
 10 GELEDE
ry) lp
KO
The otherworldliness of the Gelede spectacle is evident in its place
Oke . . . = = 4
T

\
.

f
\V C r , .

e and time settings. Gelede performance takes place in the main _market-
e place—a setting that is significant for several reasons. The marketplace is
NZ 7)ptek a metaphor for the world. Existence on earth is like coming to the market
rok Wan) to do business before returning to the realm of the ancestors (Lindfors
and Owomoyela 1973:23). The marketplace itself symbolizes Gelede’s
transitory,
worldly manifestation, while at the same time it represents its
otherwordly dimension, for the market is a liminal place, where spirits
intermingle with human beings. It is often situated at the center of the
town, at a crossroads where one finds the shrine for the deity in charge of
the crossroads, Esu/Elegba.
Numerous stories involve the marketplace: Hunters’ tales describe
the way animals in the bush remove their skins, transform themselves
into human beings, and go shopping on market days. Other stories tell of
spirits in human form who frequent the marketplace, marry mortals, and
bear their children, only to disappear one day, taking the children with
them. The intermingling of mortals and spirits in the marketplace during
Gelede is suggested by an Egbado king (Bakare 1971), who contended
that when Gelede is a success, spirits known euphemistically as “stran-
gers” visit the performance. They appear as mortals and are identifiable
by the fact that they are unknown to the community. When many stran-
gers are in attendance, it is felt that the community has been successful
through performance in communicating with the supernatural realm. As
Bakare explained, “We realize our prayers have been answered when
strangers visit in the night. Young children, grownups, and old people
come and then disappear at daybreak.”*
PING It is not inconsequential that the market-ts-a-major setting of social
N : and economic activity involving primarily women. Frading)is probably
es OF) vyuthe most common profession among women in ie Stee {Indeed
CANS wo the market is controle y women; its administrative head, the lyalode,
(ReeZ5510N holds a position on the king’s council of chiefs. Women are economically
J ppacependent and through trading they can acquire greater wealth and
husbands
/ mi ‘\higher status than their (Lloyd 1963:39; 1974:38). By bringing
Why ,, ., the
specinto
Y, AVL tacl e the Gelede society introduces it directly
the market,
AYate\ MA into women’s realm, the place where their collective social power is most
\2 'AN (9 Vi consciously felt. The marketplace is thus a most appropriate setting for a
ay na ritual that seeks to gather all segments of the society in order to pay
~~ |?) homage to the special power of women and to partake of their influence.
The market is a transient place, at once the domain of women and
the worldly domain of spirits, the place where they enter “the world” to
mingle freely with mortals. “The mothers,” by definition, also have this
ability; they are mortals who have access to the otherworld. It is in their
supernatural capacity, reflected in the power of transformation, that
 Yoruba Spectacle 11

women are considered the “owners_of- bodies” (ab@ra méji) and the
“owners of the world” (oni l’oné aiyé). ie rol the world; they control
the market. Indeed the mar varot Ne a(n »\for the
Yoruba concept of aiye Mede Rie sAcieaeLretla hac Humperor
spirits, by assuming human or animal form, can penetrate. HAE Ofer es
Another important and very popular element of Yoruba spectacle is MMs
the nighttime ceremony. Thus spectacles such as Gelede, Egungun, and Me,
festivalsfor the gods oftén open around midnight and end at sunrise.
Informants offer several explanations for, peetarnal ‘performances, or Akics
aistin (“without sleep”). One is that it is cooler_at night and therefore more_ Ks
enjoyable. Indeed, even when performances occur during the day they* PALS
are generally scheduled for the late afternoon. While this explanation =
and others* may account in part for the prevalence of night ceremonies,
they are not entirely adequate. _ oe
Normally nights are deyeted to rest after long, hot hours of physical
and mental activity. Thus to set aside such time for participation in some
ritual activity lasting eight hours or more is to semone a certain and
unusual devotional commitment. The tradition of the“wake-keeping,” or
“vigil,” however,
is an integral part of Yoruba religious life. The funeral
rites of almost all individuals include a sleepless/night during which the
family and friends of the departed remain vigilant to ensure the safe and
proper transfer of the deceased’s spiritual essénce to the afterworld, orun.
The same principle seems to operate in the openings and/closings of
rituals to the ancestors and gods, when the supernatural forces inhabiting
orun are coaxed into azye, the phenomenal world, by humans. These
difficult and critical occasions involvin e interpenetration of realms
are most appropriate at night, when spirits are thought to be most atten-
tive (Ositola 1982). Darkness is the a aie cdone aner eel
creatures most often associated with them, such aE bats, rats, and
reptiles. The obscurity of henight adds totheir aTesome, anna
qualities. If the market is the place inside the community where spirits
are most likely to mingle with humans, then the most likely time for
intermingling is at night in the market.
Another distinctive feature of Gelede spectacle that perhaps alludes bo
to its otherworldliness is the theme of(doubling.\ The spectacle itself is in VELMC
two parts—the nighttime Efe performance | nd the daytime Gelede
dance—and informants stress that one cannot take place without the
other. Within the Efe rites, masquerader,
the singing male Ord Efe, must
be preceded by a partner, either m oO is VI asa fze
companion, wife, or twin. And in Gelede, masqueraders traditionally Kay, Php
“perform in identical pairs. A§
Inherent in the pairing of masks, co ; movement, like the
ultimate creation of the mothers—twifs—is the concept of elaboration.
Ra
 12 GELEDE

Automatically the pageantry and energy are doubled as each mas-

querader dances toward the drum ensemble, individually interpreting
the intricate verbal/rhythmic percussive messages. The observer is sur-
rounded by a wealth of artistic display as each performer emerges, daz-
zles, and quickly disappears only to be followed by another spectacle.
The Gelede spectacle is a lavish two-part multimedia production
created by singers, dancers, carvers, drummers, and spectators. It ap-
peals to the senses through a brilliant array of sounds, sights, and energy.
The impact is immediate and striking yet enduring, as evidenced by the
easy recall of songs and spectacles that occurred in the distant past.
Gelede has been called “the ultimate spectacle” for its ability to shape
society and to create a lasting impression by means of an absorbing mul-
timedia experience.
The first part of the spectacle, Efe, is a night of songs. Many of the
performers are dramatically attired and are constantly in motion. The
senses are activated not only by sound but also by sight and energy made
visible. Each performer is an-entityunto himself. With each successive
entrant, the crowd becomes increasingly excited, and the emotion
reaches its peak with Oro Efe’s gradual emergence. The undulating
melody of his songs are made visible in the sweeping, curving, and spiral-
ing movement of his arms and in the complex circular/spiraling forms of
his mask. He begins to move through the performance area, orally and
physically carrying his words to the crowd. Stateliness and grandeur
characterize his moving image, for Oro Efe’s appearance and manner
communicate_Ov uline ower and authority, the authority that
EaIGE THGrn Thea okee oO TERT are of Efe,” who can
utter his thoughts on any topic, is a monarch of the night, immune to all
attacks, responsible for the well-being of his “subjects.” As he moves
through the darkness, appearing and disappearing, his words are now
clear and loud, now muffled and distant. The total illusion is both mysti-
cal and immediate, just as the songs themselves deal with both spiritual
powers and human society. Oro Efe is transcendental voice, powerful
man, and servant of the mothers.
The dramatic flow of Efe night mirrors the serial structure of the
KOZ 2) spectacle. The tension builds with each performer; a lull follows until the
next one appears. Excitement peaks at the most dramatic moment—Oro
h> Bxcrrmay Efe's entrance—and remains sustained yet diminishing during the re-
Paks, mainder of the night while songs are sung. Like the masqueraders them-
selves, songs follow one another in serial fashion, yet their concerns are
different and often unrelated.
Co made visiblejis essential to the second part of the spectacle, the
afternoon Gelede performance. Yet this spectacle is not created by move-
ment alone, but by the integration of masks, costumes, music, and dance.
 Yoruba Spectacle 13

Here, as in Efe night, the artistic modes create images that embellish
reality. The Gelede masquerades present elaborate statements of
maleness and femaleness through a profusion of visual elements. Rich
cloth heightens the grandeur of the figures while it reinforces and re-
sponds to the movements of the dancer. At the same time, it speaks of the
support by the females in the community who have lent their head ties,
which are incorporated into the costumes. In the dance, these visual,
sculptural forms become kinetic. The cloth whirls; articulated super-
structures move; the breasts and buttocks bob up and down, thrusting
sharply into space to add force to their forms. The masks further define
roles and power in society—knives, guns, and caps for the male; bowls,
head wraps, and trays for the females. The elaborate form and motion of
the costume and dance are echoed in often elaborate superstructures
above the composed mask face. Embellished by means of attachments,
forms extend beyond the physical limitations of the original wood cylin-
der. Elaboration and elegance are conscious goals in the masks as well as
in the dance, for the curving interwoven forms recall the swinging arms
and weaving trace-patterns of the dancers. And in some, stationary and
moveable attachments reach down to the torso and affect the posture,
position, and movement of the dancer, thus structurally unifying the
image.
The relationships among the art forms are multiple and reciprocal.
Upon seeing the sculptured forms representing a Muslim priest, for
example, the drummers may launch spontaneously into a verbal/rhyth-
mic text associated with this visual motif. And since the identity of the
dancer is generally known, his name may be sounded and incorporated
into the rhythm. And yet at the same time, the media that make up the
whole may have distinct referents and meanings, giving each autonomy.
Multiple images and ideas converge in time to produce a multifocal,

vie with each other. For example, during the performance of the night
mother masquerade, when the singers ask, “Mother, child who brings
peace to the world. Repair the world for us,” the drummers are sound-
ing, “Mother, the one who killed her husband in order to take a title.”
The masquerades themselves have no thematic relationship to each
other. Therefore, in Ilaro, for example, where numerous Gelede rush
into the performance space all at once, images compete for attention.
With its performative power, Gelede thus treats numerous matters
and manages them simultaneously. In the process, Gelede serves a _di-
dactic function as itreinforces social values “andtraditions. Values are
enforced with reference to particular individuals or groups, or some-
times they are asserted in general terms. These value-laden expressions
can be honorific or derisive. In the very structure of the performance,
 14 GELEDE
Gelede asserts an egalitarian ideal, insuring that the opportunity to per-
form is distributed among all members (cf. Drewal and Drewal 1980). It
further defines and distinguishes male and female roles and intrinsic
power and also reinforces role expectations. Gelede dancers externalize
the inner natures of men and women, shaping as well as dramatizing
their distinct inner potentials.
Performance implies a separation between actor and audience, both
in distance and in distinction, maintained by means of a masquerade
format. Yet in the course of Gelede the lines between performer and
audience blur as enthralled spectators become active participants. This
No“Eyg process of inclusion and participation is precisely the ulti
meaning of the ritual, for its fundamental
nd
purpose is to honor the

conscience of the community, voicing its hopes, fears, desires, and opin-
ions, and stressing unity and adherence to traditions as a way to honor
the mothers. The Gelede dancers, representing generalized roles or
groups both inside and outside the traditional society, are the “children”
of the mothers. Thus Gelede is all-inclusive in character, including the
membership of its society, its audiences, and the themes and motifs in the
songs, masks, costumes, and dances.
As a “plaything,” Gelede is intended to be entertaining. As one mem-
ber of the Gelede society explains (Legbe 1971), “We call the women
together, the old women, in order that they will laugh, in order that they
will have something to enjoy. If we have no food in this world, it will not
be sweet.” The analogy between food and Gelede performance suggests
that Gelede is a sacrifice to these elderly women. The notion that Gelede
performances)are sacri ivi is alluded
to by another elder, who asserts (Babalola 1971),

I can tell you that this Gelede dance is mainly danced for them more
than anybody. We dance it mostly for them. That is why we say Gelede
belongs to the women. . . . Our forefathers told us that these were
destructive women (qe), that we must not look down upon them. If we
despise them it means death. We must pamper (ti) them and live.

Tu (to pamper, literally to cool) is the root word for a type of sacrifice
known as étitw, a cooling or propitiatory rite." It is precisely its capacity
for entertainment that enables Gelede to function as an etutu to assuage
this collectivity of powerful women, the gods of society. All the partici-
pants—dancers, singers, costumers—are performing a sacrifice when
they strive to achieve perfection in performance." Indéed, Gelede is an
expensive sacrifice that requires the combined resources of the commu-
nity. Thus, a Gelede elder comments (Legbe 1071):
 Yoruba Spectacle 15

There is no difference from the old days to the present, except that the
festival is more enjoyable now than in the past when there was no
money. Now there is financial power for everyone. When we prepare
for the festival, we will buy clothes for all the children which we have
collectively given birth to. They put on fine clothing to express that it is
festival time. Many of us have money to spend; we have drinks and
much food that we eat for the nine days of the festival. We eat to our
full satisfaction. We rest for one year until our financial power is good
so that the next festival will be better than the one before.

It is not that one must be wealthy to participate in Gelede activities;

rather one must be willing to commit whatever resources one has at any
given time for the festival. That is the meaning of sacrifice. -
As a sacrifice designed to placate the mothers, Gelede_advises af
tience and indulgence rather than confrontation and aggression. Accord-
ingto one devotee, “the one to sacrifice to the Great Mother must havé
patience.” The value of patience is implicit in the masquerade images
themselves. The heads of the Efe and Gelede performers are the essence
of calmness and composure, while the rest of their bodies engage in
powerful dance sequences. Likewise, the faces of the masks represent the
idealized inner head, which must remain calm in order not to spoil the
countenance, for, if the outside head displays anger, individuals risk
direct confrontations, and possibly death, at the hands of others. As a
Yoruba prayer states, “May my inner head not spoil the outer one.”
During Efe night, Oro Efe appears only after a prescribed host of cos- MWCAEZ
tumed performers have brought the festival into the world, preparing
the ground, opening the way, and giving approval. Then and only then,
with protective medicine and the approval of the female cult head, Iyal-
ase, does Oro Efe emerge slowly and cautiously. He prudently honors the
forces in the Yoruba universe with his chants before he comments on
society and individuals. Gelede is thus an appeal to balance and reason.
Patience and indulgence are the requisite attitudes with which to
channel the vital life force of the mothers and their “children” in the
world. Patience is perceived to be inherent in femaleness. The Great
Mother herself is the epitome of patience; that is, her inner head is
composed. She is in control. She does not become visibly angered, but she
exacts revenge covertly. These ideas about women are expressed in the
channeled and controlled steps of the female Gelede dances, which are
powerful but restrained. The mothers, who are united with all women by
the “flow of blood,” embody the concept of balance, a female quality that
men must understand—indeed emulate—in order to survive.
Gelede thus mediates between the owners of society—those who gen-
erate, manage, control, and also punish it—and the community.
 16 GELEDE

Through praise and criticism, prayers and curses, Gelede spectacle car-
ries out the perceived will of the mothers. The community is responsive,
in turn lending its support. The art forms that make up spectacle thus
become instruments for regulating society. Most important of all, per-
haps, is that Gelede affirms patience and indulgence, qualities thought to
be possessed innately by women, as ideal means of correcting imbalances
and maintaining peace. The arts of Gelede touch upon different con-
cerns in different ways. They constantly reinforce and revitalize each
other to reach all segments within the community.
 Gelede Performance

Prudence was the ancient wisdom of the Egba

Prudence was the ancient wisdom of the Ijesa
It was divined for Orunmila, who was going to the town of the
owners of birds [i.e., spiritually powerful women]
That he must put on an image [mask], head ties, and leg rattles
He obeyed, he put them on, he arrived in the town of the owners of
birds and he survived
He rejoiced in dancing and singing—
“I have covenanted with Death, I will never die
Death, worrisome Death
I have covenanted with sickness, I will never die
Death, worrisome Death”

Pele ni ns’awo won lode Egba

Pele ni ns’awo won lode Tjesa
A da f’Orunmila, 0 ns’awo re Ilu Eleiye
Won ni ko ru Aworan, Oja ati ku
O ghbo, o ru, o de Ilu Eletye, o yé b6
O wa nsunyere wipe—
“Mo ba’ku mule nwo ku mo
Thu, [ku gboingboin
Mo b’arun mule, nwo ku mo
Tku, Iku gboingboin”
[Beyioku 1946]

This Ifa divination text from osa mei, drummed at the beginning of Kays
Gelede spectacles in Lagos as the masqueraders enter the arena to per- —S~
form, recounts the mythic origin of Gelede masquerading. Ifa instructed |
Orunmila, the deity governing divination, to exercise great caution (pelee ‘
pelé) in entering the domain of spiritually powerful women known as
eleiye (literally “owners-of-birds”) by donning a mask (aworan), head tie

17
 18 GELEDE

y ee (oja), and leg rattles (iku), three essential elements found in all Efe and
‘~ Gelede costumes (color plate 1). Orunmila did not confront these power-
\} ful women aggresslv ely, rather he sought to assuage them. As one elder
comments, “we must pamper (¢u) them [the mothers] and live” (Babalola
1971). And, “it is the Great Mother who gave instruction saying anyone
who worships her must have patience (stirt)” (Ogundipe 1971). For the
mothers “from the left and from the right, from the front and from the
Ane ® back” are asked to descend and join the gathering; their reply comes
MN from the trees in the form of birds’ cries (Beier 1958:10). Another elder,
ee this time a priestess, asserts (Akinwole 1971): “these masks are like the
w )\ vital power (ase) that the ancients wielded in the past which they called ¢sd
Ses [a thing done with carefulness]. ... They must not perform it nakedly.”'
With the requisite attire and demesno Orunmila journeys safely into
the midst of the owners-of-birds, where he sings and dances. Gelede
performances recreate this mythic journey.”

The Sounds and Sights of Efe Night

As darkness approaches, the community completes its preparations
for the Efe ceremony.* Between g and 10 P.M. a large crowd gathers in
the central market—men, women, children—all bringing with them
lamps, mats, chairs, and food. They arrange themselves in a large circle,
often sitting together in age group societies (egbé). The performers’ entry
way into the circle, known as the “mouth of authority” (enudse), orients
.the crowd. Families with titled elders, especially women, and other im-
g& portant personages are given preferred positions along the edge of the
iy,Ni“performance space (fig. 1). This mass of people, sometimes numbering
wwla® 1,000—1,500, includes Seale ule ers (actually a small percent-
| age of the total audience), local inhabitants of various religious faiths
(Muslim, Christian, and traditional, including devotees of diverse
deities), relatives of local people who live in other towns (sometimes from
as far away as 150 miles), and “strangers” (a category that includes spirits
as well as omo ar’avyé, “children of the world,” a euphemism for evil-
intentioned persons). From all parts of the town and from neighboring
villages, from the otherworld, and from all age groups and all walks of
life, the people assemble to see the Efe spectacle.
RY) The drummers arrive first and set up their ensemble within the
Ae arena just opposite the masqueraders’ entrance. The ensemble of four to
0) NS six drums contains two large lead drums approximately three to four feet
& Wwmw high; the larger is called “mother drum” (?y@li), the other “female émélé,”
eS er omélé abo. The walu and omele abo together beat verbal messages by
& y ‘Yeproducing the rhythmic and tonal structure of spoken Yoruba. The
ag smaller supporting drums, the omele ako (or “male omele’”), which are fixed
 Gelede Performance 19

Palm frofid enclosure

Double-arched
entrance se Se Elders
(enuase) —//
[
Crowd | Agbo

Fig. 1. Performance space, Ketu region.

at different pitches, maintain a rapid, complex polyrhythm. Over this

background rhythm, the mother drum and the female omele weave well-
known proverbs and praise the gods, ancestors, and elders while awaiting
the arrival of the chorus of singers.
The singers, known collectively as “the carriers of the news”
(abaniro), consist of male and female members of the society, called re-
spectively akyéle and akodan.* Upon leaving the Gelede shrine, they pro-
ceed to the gathering singing a song such as the following, which
announces that all are in place and ready:

It is now time to start, it is time.

Bush fowl lives in the forest, it is time.
Teak is found in the grasslands, it is time.
The lavish display is prepared, it is evening, it is time to start.
Nse k6k6 akoko, nse k6k6 akoko.
Aparo n’ighd, akok6.
Troko lo Vodan, akoko.
Idagba la fiija, akoko, nse koko lalé yi, akoko.
[Collected in Ketu, 1971] Meme
I) WA Zs
The stage-is-now set for a series of masqueraders to appear. All the 42 Rei
masquerades are perf ormed by men, but the costuming and movement W y,
may Yépresent either males or females. First, a delightful puppet act may AM)
appear, featuring a figure on a platform called “machine magic” (érg).
From underneath the platform the performer manipulates the puppet’s
 20 GELEDE

arms by pulling on a string, while children cheer, pushing and shoving to

» get a closer look at the animated figure.
ra ada After this lighthearted spectacle, Efe night opens with a series of
7 ; introductory masquerades known generically as “spiri e earth” (dro
AAR, ue). The first is Ogbagba, who represents the divine mediator,
es Esu/Elegba. As mediator between men and the gods, Esu/Elegba 1s hon-
A ored first and encouraged to “open the way” (ago Vena) for a successful
yy ceremony. Crossroads, entrances, exits, and liminal or transitional sites
rit? vaneare the abodes of the one who straddles two realms. He appears twice,
a Ci first as a “young boy in a white cap and raffia skirt,” as people sing, “Eshu
Pues comes with light leaves”; then as a grownup wearing banana leaves and
iron anklets, as cult members sing lines such as these (Beier 1958:9):

Ogbagba carries leaves

ji On all the rubbish dumps he has picked up the eko leaves
ae He.comes carrying leaves

Ogbagba, or Esu/Elegba, is followed by Arabi Ajigbale. As the name

suggests, Arabi is “The-One- Who- Sweeps- Every- Morning”; literally, he
“sweeps” and thus\clears and clea rketplace \(pl.1). His cos-
tume of shredded palm leaves (mariw6) and his clearing actions allude to
Ogun, the god of iron (cf. Barnes 1980:38-40), for both he and
Esu/Elegba serve to “open the way” for all men’s communications with
supernatural forces (Beyioku 1946; Osubi 1973). At his appearance peo-
ple may sing (Moulero 1970:44):

Arabi, The-One-Who-Sweeps-Every-Morning
The cloth of another is good for sweeping
Arabi Ajighale
Aso alaso dun igbale

seek Fire is the focus of the next masquerade pair. The first—Agbéna, or
KS / Fire Carrier—appears with either a mass of blazing grasses or a pot of fire
eu balanced on his head and a costume of white cloth. The performer moves
L quickly through the space as sparks fly, forcing the crowd backward as it
| sings (Moulero 1970:46):

The fire in the bush starts without warning

Farmers with fields near the bush, beware
Ko pa ina njako
Oloko Vadugbo ‘
Gelede Performance 21

CN
‘ wh
2 a 3

PLATE 1. Wearing the cloths of the iron deity, Ogun, Arabi

Ajigbale sweeps the market to clear the way for the
masqueraders that follow. Lagos, 1978.
 22 GELEDE

These series of masquerades ritually reenact the steps taken in establish-

wing a shrine, a house, or a settlement, actions of entry, clearing, and
finally bur ning off the remains, actions presided over by Esu and Ogun.
As the god of iron and the one who clears the way, Ogun in particular is
regarded as the tutelary deity of this process. Agbena, disappearing as
quickly as he appeared, may be immediately followed by Apana, the “Fire
Extinguisher” (Beier 1958:9—-10):
Owner of fire, kill your fire!
The hoopoe [a bird with decurved bill] is coming
Put down your load,
Because one does not light fires
To regard the bird of the night

The performance enters a new phase now that the marketplace has
been ritually prepared. All lights are extinguished as the impending
“bird of the night,” the most sacred of Efe and Gelede forms, the Great
Mother, Iyanla, appears either as a bearded woman (pl. 2) or as a bird
called Eye Oro, Spirit Bird, or Eye Oru, Bird of the Night (pl. 3). Inthe
darkness the Great Mother comes trailing a white cloth. While she per-
forms, all lights must be extinguished. As she moves in a gentle, slow
dance (16 jéé), matching her steps with the drum rhythms, the elders of
the Gelede cult flock around her limiting the audience’s view of the
headdress.’ The headdress, worn almost horizontally, is fastened to a
long white cloth that often trails on the ground. Emphasizing the hori-
zontality of the mask, the performer plunges his torso forward and main-
tains a crouched position throughout the performance; his elbows and
knees are bent and spread laterally to evoke hoary age. Ankle rattles echo
the Gelede drum rhythms as the mother masquerade slowly advances
and then retreats using small-amplitude jumps that barely leave the
ground. The Great Mother does not speak. A series of songs and drum
rhythms accompany her, creating layers of messages. If the masquerade
represents Spirit Bird, the chorus and crowd sing:

Spirit Bird is coming

Spirit Bird is coming
Ososobi 0, Spirit Bird is coming
The one who brings the festival today
Tomorrow is the day when devotees of the gods will worship
You are the one who brought us to this place
It is your influence that we are using
Ososobi 0, Spirit Bird is coming

Eye Ord mbd

Eye Ord mbp
 23

PLATE 2. The bearded Great

Mother, lyanla, bent with age,
trails white cloth on the ground.
Photograph by Edna Bay in Cove,
Benin, 1972.

PLATE 3. Spirit Bird with

blood-red beak hastens through
the marketplace and disappears
into the darkness. Ilaro, 1978.
‘
 24 GELEDE

Osdsobi 0, Eye Oré mbo

Eni Volodiingbodin
Ola lolo’sa mbo orisa
Iwo lokowa déleé yr
Ola ré lawa nye
Osdsdbi 0, Eye Ord mbo
[Recorded in Haro, 1978]

If, on the other hand, the masquerader appears as bearded mother, the
community offers the following:

Iyanla come into the world, our mother

Kind one will not die like the evil one
Ososomu come into the world
Our mother the kind one will not die like the evil one

lydnlaé é s0 w'aryé 0, yd wa
Ol6dré ka ku supo [tka]
Osdsimti é sd w'aiyé 0
Iya wa ol6dré ka kui sipo

And:
Ososomu ee e
Honored ancestor apake e ee
Mother, Mother, child who brings peace to the world
Repair the world for us
Iyanla, child who brings peace to the world o e

Osdsomii e ee
Oldjogin apaké eee
Lyd, Iyd, omo atin aiyé se
Ba wa tin aryé se
lyanld, omo attin aiyé 0 e
[Collected in Ibaiyun, 1975]

As the songs praise the Mother, the drums approximate the tonal pat-
terns of Yoruba speech and simultaneously offer another message:

Mother, Mother, the one who killed her husband in order to take a
title
Come and dance, the one who killed her husband in order to take a
title, come and dance
Stand up, stand, come and dance
One who killed her husband in order to take a title, come and
dance.... ;
Honored ancestor apake, come and dance
Come home immediately
One who killed her husband in order to take a title, come home
immediately
 Gelede Performance 25

One who has given birth to many children, come home immediately,
come home now
I made a sacrifice, I received glory, the day is proper
I sacrificed, I sacrificed, I sacrificed, I sacrificed
A woman will not describe what happened during travel
A woman will not tell what we have done
A woman cannot have Ajanon [title] in Oro
In this world, in this world, in this world
Yé yé, Apokodost
Wa ka j6, Apokodosu, wa ka 36
Nde, nde, wa ka 76
Apokodost, wa ka j6... .
Oldajogun apake, wa ka j6
Wanle wara, wara, wara
Apokodost, wanle wara, wara, wara, wanle wara
Abiamo didé, wanle wara, wara, wara, wanle wara
Mosebo, mogbaiyin, oj6pé
Mosebo, mosebo, mosebo, mosebo
Obinrin ki royin ajo
Obinrin ki so ohun wa sé
Obinrin ki jé Ajanén Ord
Liaiyé, Vaiyé, Varyé
[Collected in Ibaiyun, 1975]

In darkness and completely surrounded, Iyanla circles the performance

area and quickly returns to the shrine, where the mask, wrapped or
draped with white cloth, serves as the focus of worship for society elders.
With the departure of Iyanla, the frst singing g _maskyarrives.
mas
masky It is
known in some places as Tetede (The-One 10-Comes-in-Good-Time),
in others as Aiyé Tutu eae (pl. 4). The role of this masquerader
is to prepare the way for Oro Efe with chants (yuba) that honor the
mothers, the gods, and the assembled elders and then to call Oro Efe,
ensuring that he may safely begin his night-long solo performance
(Moulero 1970:51):
/ Amulohun, if I call you the first time and you don’t answer
C You will become an anthill
If I call you a second time and you don’t answer
You will become a piece of wood
If I call you the third time and you don’t answer
-You will become a savage beast
Amulohun, 6 bi mo ba pe 0 Vekini 0 je
E di igbodi pete
Bi mo ba pe o Vekepi 6 je
O di kukubole
Bi mo ba pe o Ueketa 6 je
E di eran oko ighe
 26 GELEDE

PLATE 4. Tetede, “The-One-

Who-Comes-in-Good-
Time,”
appears with a tray of ritual
containers to sing the praises of the
supernatural forces and to call Oro
Efe to begin his performance.
Sawonjo, 1978.

With the call of this introductory singing masquerader, two atten-

dants of Oro Efe come into the area and kneel before the entry way, or
“the mouth of authority.” They carry special medicines to protect Oro
Efe throughout his performance. From the area in front of the entrance,
the female cult head and her assistant, both dressed all in white in honor
of the cool, or “white,” deities (drisa funfun) and Odua, the Great Mother,
strike sacred four-sphered bells. They ritually call Oro Efe to the world,
announce his coming, and insure that he is protected. Next a flute player
appears. His short bursts of music praise Oro Efe, call him by name, and
silence the crowd. The slow, insistent beat of Oro Efe’s leg rattles an-
nounces his coming, as he appears in the “mouth of authority.” He sways
slowly, majestically swinging horsetail whisks in each hand (frontispiece).
With his first high, piercing note, the flute ceases and thé crowd becomes
quiet. With everything readied and ripples of expectation and excitement
running through the crowd, the drums fall silent, and Oro Efe, accom-
panied by the flute (féré), replies to the first singing masquerader (Moul-
ero 1970:53):
 Gelede Performance 247

When you called me the first time,

I had been doing a task for the apa tree.
When you called me the second time,
I was providing service for the zroko tree.°
But when you called me the third time, I answered in a clear,
resounding voice.
Now that you have finished calling me, go home.
Nigba t’o pe mi Vekina
Apa l’0 ran mi lise
Nigba lo pe mi Uekej
Troko Uo be mi lowe
Nigba l’0 pe mi Ueketa
Mo je fun rerere apela V'ai p’agba
Bio ba pe mi tan ma lo

All attention now focuses on Oro Efe’s words, as the performer

carefully begins to honor deities, ancestors, the mothers, and elders. His
sharply inclined torso and slow, methodic stamping express reverence to
these spiritual powers. All the while, men in the hunters’ society shout
and fire their guns, the loud reports echoing in the night, punctuating
the honorific incantations of Oro Efe. When he has completed this im-
portant devotion, he emerges fully from the entry way, rises to full stat-
ure, and moves toward the center of the performance space, where he
delivers a song of self-assertion (pl. 5). His majestic costuming reinforces|
the extraordinary quality of his tense, piercing voice, which must project
well, for high volume and vocal clarity are essential qualities _ by which
Oro
oe s performance is judged. He paces up and down the arena while
singing, Hashing the whisks as a way of greeting and blessing the as-
sembled community.
The performance continues throughout the night with only brief
interludes, during which the drum ensemble offers a variety of praise
poems, proverbs, jokes, and riddles. As dawn approaches, a stilted mas-
querader in the form of a hyena (kdériko) (pl. 6) enters the marketplace to
divert the attention of the crowd. His appearance allows Oro Efe to
reenter the “mouth of authority,” signaling the conclusion of Efe night.
People collect their belongings and slowly disperse to their homes to rest.
They will return in late afternoon for the next spectacle—Gelede.

The Daylight Dances of Gelede

After the night’s Efe performance, the town is unusually quiet for
most of the day, but as the shadows lengthen and the heat diminishes, the
afternoon Gelede dances build like a gathering thunderstorm. The
drummers arrive and position themselves opposite the masqueraders’
entry way. The audience gathers slowly. First come the children, curious
PLATE 5. In a headdress adorned with woodpeckers, snakes, and
a leopard and in a costume covered with geometric and
representational images, Oro Efe moves through the
performance area guided by his attendants. Igbogila, 1978.
 Gelede Performance 29

PLATE 6. The gaping jaws of aHyena headdress divert the

attention of the crowd, allowing Oro Efe to disappear, thus
ending the night ceremony. Kesan Orile, 1971.

to watch the musicians’ preparations. Then the teenagers and adults

begin to appear. The elders, especially the elderly women, fill their places
on the perimeter of the performance space. The ever-increasing crowd
listens to the stirring rhythms of the drummers while awaiting the ap-
pearance of the first masqueraders, who are preparing themselves in
their compounds or at the Gelede shrine. Crowd controllers—male
Gelede cult members aided by hunters—move back and forth across the
marketplace; with large sticks or palm branches, they attempt to keep
back the accumulating mass of people in order to maintain a large per-
formance area between the entrance and the drummers.
PLaTE 7. A partially costumed Gelede-to-be holding an old
broken mask on his head marks the drum beats with persistent,
if unsteady, stamps. Iaro, 1978.
 Gelede Performance 31

PiaTeE 8. An older child with a more complete costume dances

under the critical eye of his instructor. Ilaro, 1978.

The format of the Gelede spectacle, no matter what the occasion, is

serial, and the masqueraders usually make their appearances in order of
age—the Re ee peease Gc dims launch inte their dance
Seem email partly coatamed “Gelede-to-be” wearing an old mask
marks the beats with persistent if unsteady stamps (pl. 7). Lacking the
finesse of his seniors, he must hold the mask with his hands to balance it
on his head. Older children follow, more daring in their kinetic offerings
(pl. 8). The crowd greets these youngsters with great enthusiasm and
amusement. Some shout encouragement, while others rush forward to
reward their efforts with small coins. These first awkward attempts are
PLATE g. Stronger, self-assured teenagers provide a relatively
accomplished performance as their dance master watches. Ilaro,
1978.
 Gelede Performance 33

PLATE 10. An identical pair of master dancers match each

other’s intricate dance patterns, as the crowd strains to see the
action. Ketu, 1971.

followed by stronger, more self-assured teenagers (pl. 9). Often a teen-

ager is accompanied by his mentor, who stands over him and watches
every detail of his performance, sometimes tapping out the rhythms
visually or verbally in order to assist the teenager and to keep him on the
right track, sometimes to shout out instructions or to correct him if he
makes a mistake (pls. 8, 9).
These preliminary performances heighten the crowd’s anticipation,
for they a eee oFWe thaster’ dancers, ele-
gantly attired in elaborately carved headdresses and a profusion of cloth.
The tone becomes more serious and the critical evaluations of the per-
formance more exacting. The crowd strains to see a pair of dancers in
front of the drums as they match each other’s steps (pl. 10). The crowd
controllers make a conscientious but futile effort to keep the crowd from
pressing forward. Moving back and forth along the perimeter of the
performance space, they lash the ground with their switches just at
toes of the spectators, forcing them to retreat. Masqueraders perform in
quick succession, each striving to outdo the others in his mastery of
’
PLATE 11. As enthusiasm mounts, spectators spur the
masquerader on to greater choreographic heights. Haro, 1978.
Gelede Performance 35

Ui

PLATE 12. A crowd controller rushes into the arena to perform

with a masquerader. Sawonjo, 1978.
 '
)
:>
«
-a

PLATE 13. At the close of the afternoon dance, the deified

ancestral priestess, dressed in white, comes to bless the
community. Imasai, 1971.
 Gelede Performance 37

increasingly complex rhythmic patterns. As enthusiasm mounts, crowd

controllers and cult elders—men and women—rush into the perfor-
mance area to accompany their family’s masqueraders and spur them on
to greater choreographic heights (pl. 11). In the dimming light of dusk
the last Gelede perform (pl. 12), and the spectacle usually closes with a
special masquerader representing the deified ancestress of the commu-
nity (pl. 13). Her appearance reassures the crowd of the mother’s bless-
ings and signals the conclusion of a successful festival as all reluctantly
ee to their compounds.

Gelede enh mance, it is possible to eed itssocial concerns and

the way these concerns are expressed both verbally and nonverbally. It is
also possible to perceive how Yoruba spectacle operates, communicating
discrete bits of information simultaneously through the use of mul-
timedia.
 Efe Songs—V owing Power

The term efe literally means “joking,” and many informants explain it as a
“play,” “buffoonery,” “someth to laugh at.” The humorous side of Efe
ing
night is apparent in numerous songs ridiculing or mocking foolish or
antisocial behavior. Yet its very serious side will become evident as we
examine the repertoire of Oro Efe, for Oro Efe’s words have the power
of ase, the power to make his assertions, with communal assent, come to
pass. This force is alluded to by an elderly Efe singer and priest of Ifa
(Legbe 1971):
The Ifa Oracle is a seer. If something bad were going to happen and
the Ifa Oracle sees it and tells us that, today, he wants us to celebrate
Efe, it should be done. After doing it, the bad thing which was to
happen would be sent away. .. . What prevents the happening from
coming to pass is that what Ifa predicts is wind [éftifu] and the Efe that
we do is also wind.!

A deep philosophical concept is embedded in these words. Although

Efe contains humorous anecdotes and satire, they are only a superficial
aspect. Efe songs possess vital power (ase), which is activated in the pro-
nouncing of the words of all Efe songs regardless of subject matter. Efe
is, in effect, the public equivalent of private invocations that occur during
sacrificial ceremonies, Ifa divinations, and in each individual’s striving to
communicate with the deities, ancestors, and the mothers. Stated another
way, the voicing of an invocation to bring something to pass or to prevent
something from happening is liken “wi wind”
(Kilomoninse 1971).
The efficacy of the publicly spoken prayer, the voiced ase that consti-
tutes Efe, has been attested to in numerous incidences, most clearly in the
case of women who want children. They pray to the mothers or female

38
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 39

deities of Gelede in public celebrations of Efe while all are gathered,

especially old men and old women. The pres esence of these-elders and -
Lies—_
especially their voiced “ase,” meaning “so be it,” add power and efficacy to
the request for children. The voiced request is heightened, intensified,
and strengthened by the ase of individuals within the gathering and espe-
cially those believed to have special ase, the elderly women. The uniting
and voicing of these forces produce a request that must be fulfilled.
Likewise, the manner in which Efe are presented adds to its powers.
Oro Efe as a male elder of the cult is chosen and controlled by the female
cult head, zyalase, who by definition is one of the mothers.? He is thus
sanctioned both spiritually and socially. Indeed Oro Efe is considered to
be the “servant” of the mothers (Asiwaju 1975:203). Because of this role,
he is immune to any repercussions as a result of his words and deeds.
A. I. Asiwaju (1975:203—204) notes such incidents recalled by his infor-
mants in Meko and Ketu. One involved an Oro Efe who was released
from jail on the grounds that his offensive song was authorized by aiye
the world (i.e., the mothers). With the sanction of the mothers, Oro Efe
has complete freedom to voice his opinion on virtually ev ect of
society, and those who happen to be the object of his biting criticism have
no recourse.
This double sanction creates a special status for Oro Efe, which is
mirrored in his song presentation and attire (frontispiece). His voice has
a quality that is superhuman yet not supernatural, as are spirits associated
with ancestors in the Egungun masquerades. His voice is most appropri-
ate for one who seeks to communicate with supernatural forces, as well as
with the human forces in society. ORE = NB
The topics of Efe songs are all-encompassing. Oro Efe, “the king of
Efe,” begins by respectfully honoring forces greater than himself. They
include the deities, the ancestors, and the mothers; he appeals to them to
secure their benevolent intervention in the affairs of the community.
These honoring invocations (yuiba) are followed by a change in attitude,
intent, and direction as Oro Efe turns to other matters. He first buttress-
es himself as a means of protection in his temporary and vulnerable
position as the verbalizer of the mothers’ desires and opinions. He must
not falter or stumble; he must be clear and forceful in projecting the
“wind” that combats “wind.” Then he devotes the remainder of his verbal
program to social concerns, always mindful that the traditional attitudes
and mores he reinforces are those most desired by the deities, ancestors,
and the mothers. He seeks to please them by teaching these precepts and
by ridiculing, condemning, and cursing all who contravene the wishes of
these owners of powerful ase. The community,, well aware of the dire
consequences of wrongful actions by any of its members, adds its com-
bined force in verbal concurrence. No transgression is left uncon-
 40 GELEDE
demned, no contribution left unpraised, for the act of voicing communal
Opinion carries with it sacral power.
Mt While Oro Efe’s opening incantations of honor are based upon an-
cient formulas, his repertoire of social commentary songs are composed
nly a short time before each performance to ensure that they will be
ANY
topical. The songs are composed by all the male society members who
have performed Efe in the past. As oné of them explains (Ayodele 1971),

We will dream a situation and in our minds we will compose a song

about that situation. We will meet in a private place [usually the Gelede
shrine], about 10 of us, and sit down and think of songs. . . . [The
songs] sing about the situation presented.

Other elders, especially the women, may also offer suggestions for songs
that “follow contemporary events, the happenings of the times” (Akin-
wole 1971).
The corpus of Efe verbal arts may be divided into five major subject
categories, with subdivisions, although some could be classified under
more than one heading.’ We shall analyze each category briefly on the
basis of motivation and content and then examine specific songs in each
category and subdivision.' The categories are:
1. Opening incantation of homage (iuba)
2. Invocation
a. Self-affirmation (zkasé)
b. Prayer
-—— c. Curse (épé)
3. Social comment
a. Sexual behavior
Sex roles
Morality
b. Politics
External
Internal
c. Religion
d. Seniority
History
eeFuneral commemoration

Opening Incantations
Since Oro Efe places himself in a spiritually elevated yet vulnerable
position, he must protect himself from all potential detractors, whether
spiritual or earthly. He does so by means of his initial chant, or, more
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 41

accurately, incantation (yjuba). Ijuba, sometimes known as igédé, means

“prayer of honor and respect.” It always occurs at the outset of Oro Efe’s
performance and, unlike the subsequent songs, does not go through a
phase of choral repetition.’ Oro Efe directs his ijuba to those beings more
powerful than himself—gods, ancestors, and the mothers—who could
disrupt the performance or cause him harm. Performing an act of self-
protection, he invokes and honors them with praises containing imagery
from oral literature and myth associated with these beings. Oro Efe thus
compels them to support and protect him by voicing formulas that a-
muse, exhalt, and flatter them.
The following zuba opens with a sustained piercing note, as Oro Efe
proclaims the commencement of his performance and demands the si-
lence of the large audience. As the noise dies down, he begins the yuba.
The order of invoking Le Geta ae WT OIC ee
rolesin the ritual. Therefore, like the order of appearance of the night
masquerades, those who “open.the way,” Ogun and Esu, come first.°
ae . Being a “hot” god, Ogun has a strong, arrogant, aggressively mas-
culine temperament, and the ijuba imagery reflects these traits. Ogun is
believed to have been the king of Ire, and one of his praise names recalls
this event with “Ogun Onire” (line 2) and tells of his bravery, violent
temper, and thorough vengeance (lines 3—7). His manliness and virility
are lauded in lines 8-10, when, with extreme audacity, he exposes him-
self in the presence of the king’s mother, who by definition is a spiritually
_powerful womam(line 11).
9. ) Est Laroyé-is honored next. All men wishing to communicate with
<Ahedetiesifust present a portion of their offering to Esu, for he serves as
messenger to the gods. Oro Efe exalts Esu’s mischievous, unpredictable
nature with pungent images. Esu sheds tears of blood in mock sympathy
with mourners and then succeeds in frightening a defecating man by
excreting intestines rather than feces (lines 12-13). These verbal praises
remind humans of the countless possibilities that can confront them
when dealing with supernatural forces that are not bound by the rules of
the living.
Oro Efe then honors the mothers. He calls upon them and, using
their “owners of birds” imagery, talks of the sick and elderly bird that
refuses to be warmed by fire or sun (lines 16-17), for the obscurity of the
cool night is her abode. Lines 18 and 19 refer to the belief that the
destructive mothers in concert with their male minions (0s6) bury certain
powerful substances in the earthen floor of their homes.’ The singer
intones her praise epithet, “my mother 0paké” (iya mi opake), and, playing
upon the sacred and awe inspiring words, produces alliterative variations
to the final poetic form (lines 18-22). Then he recalls the female mys-
teries of the mothers and their controlling power over human creativity
 42 GELEDE

in referring tothé vagina and pubic hair ee 2 eae ivate parts that
symbolize thé secrets that women will 1 . The final lines
allude to the mother’s spiritual eating of a victim ae as a result of
her whims.
Oro Efe thus secures the support and protection of Ogun, Esu, and
the mothers by playing upon the formulas that invoke their participation.
For Ogun these formulas flaunt the male ego—the strength, virility, and
audacity symbolized by the lengthened penis—and invoke his overt, ag-
gressive power, his quick vengeance.* Esu’s power surfaces in his ability
to wreak havoc. He assumes the blame for human tensions and their
various kinds of social releases, alluded to in this instance with physiologi-
cal acts of release. Esu, the deity at the crossroads, simultaneously offers
many options and “opens the way” by forging a direct channel of com-
munication to the spirit world and giving Oro Efe access to a vast reser-
voir of power. Finally, invoking female power represented by “the
mothers,” Oro Efe summons power that is secret, enigmatic, and covert,
thus amassing spiritual support to assure that his words will take effect.

1 Honor, honor, honor today, honor to the deities

2 Honor to Ogun Onire, my husband
3 Ogun the brave one in firing, in firing
4 Ogun left [killed] his wife in the bathroom
5 Ogun killed the swordsmen
6 He destroyed them with one blow°
7 Ogun, I asked you to chase them, not to lick their bones
8 Honor to the one whose penis stood up to father a child in the
room
g He made his penis lengthen to father a child in the house of Ijana
10 We heard how the penis struck those in the market
11 Ogun, the one who saw the king’s mother and did not cover his
penis
12 Esu Laroye, the one who weeps with tears of blood
13 When one began to excrete feces, you frightened him by
excreting intestines
14 Honor, 00000 [elongation of particle used in greeting to indicate
respect], honor today, 00000
15 Odulebe [destructive mother], I, I honor you today
16 Old bird did not warm herself in the fire
17 Sick bird did not warm herself in the sun
18 Something secret was buried in the mother’s house
19 A secret pact with a wizard ni jennejenne
20 Honor, honor today, 00000
21 Honor to my mother opake na nake, nake, nake, eeeee
22 Opake na nake, nake, nake
29, Mother whose vagina causes fear to all
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 43
24 Mother whose pubic hair bundles up in knots
5 Mother who set a trap, set a trap
26 Mother who had meat at home in lumps
1 SENSE ENGNG

2 [ba Ogun o Onire akinmi oO

= Ogun ROR6 nt muna ni muna
4 Ogun faya re st baliwwe
5 Ogun p'oni'da
6 O pawon bere kojé
7 Ogun eri mo fuin e di ngo fin e Vegungun pon la
8 iybaba 6 0 s’ok6 dodd dodo dodo bi’mo sa dodo
9g O sé’pon janné bi'mo Sile Ijana
10 A gho s’ok6 luku oko ero oja
11 Afayaba ma p’oké mo
12 Elé kun nstin kun Laréyé a ma stin eje
13 Beonami nsti mi Laroyé a ma st fiin k’eru ba lé ba onimi
14 [ba 0 iba loni o
15, Odulebe mo mo juba e loni
16 Artgho eye ko ya’na
17 Okunriun eye ko ya 6orun
18 Sa’sé gun'le ile ’ya
19 Soso mule ni jennejenne
20 [ba o iba loni o
21 Iba iyé mi opaké na nakénaké e
22 Opaké na nakenaké
23 lyd 0 olobo ao je dé
24 Iya nirun o n’irun’bé o sikt
25 lyd 0 de’kiin ko de polo
26 Iya ti eran okiri nle pirigidi pirigidi
[Recorded in Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971'"] GoViK
ie

His performance safely launched with homage properly given to |

powerful forces, Oro Efe can now begin the repertoire of songs that will 0 Zugny
be repeated by the chorus and picked up and sung repeatedly by the PRAL 4
audience. The form of presentation—the accompaniment, format, and
song style—remains more or less constant_throughout his performance.
The actual presentatio far/Efe song
gakes distinct
two forms—the ee
ea. and the chorsRenetnion. During th
the entire solo, Oro Efe aes
sings with minimal accompaniment to a relatively silent crowd, thus en- - oes
hancing his presentation. He is set apart further by his distinctive costum- — Hey kp
ing and physical position—in some places emerging from the “mouth of
authority,” in others perched on the roof of a house. His piercing voice
and mode of delivery are also distinctive. In some Egbado towns, where
Oro Efe sings from a rooftop, he holds a broad fan near his mouth in
order to deflect his words toward the masses below. His singing voice 1s
 44 GELEDE

generally high and loud, lending a somewhat tense, narrow, and piercing
quality to his delivery. In other parts of western Yorubaland, where the
mask and costume cover the singer’s mouth, vocal quality seems more
unnatural. The voice is partly muffled, and the high register is tense and
thin. Oro Efe sings with high volume and good projection—essential
qualities of a good performer whose voice must reach a good portion of
the audience, especially the chorus. He may also embellish the song, but
by using glissando liberally he adheres to the basic melody and rhythm. In
spite of the physical handicaps of costuming and distance, Oro Efe enun-
ciates clearly. With a subdued accompaniment, the text is easily under-
standable, since Yoruba is a tonal language.
Everything is set up to make sure Oro Efe’s words are distinct and
understandable. Nowhere is this more evident than in Egbado area,
where Oro Efe speaks the words before singing them, and the chorus
may sing a reproach to an inexperienced Oro Efe if his song and intent
are not clear:

Efe we would be grateful for an explanation [dvs]

You better explain very well so that we understand [bis]
Be direct, like the penis splitting the virgin’s vagina
Efe we would be grateful for an explanation [is]
Efe yi o kare alaye 'a nfe
O 3é laa mole gan ko ye wa st
Ela poro lo’k6 ladé ape
Efe yi o kare alaye Va nfe
[Recorded at Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

The chorus must learn and repeat the songs. Choral repetition com-
pletes the precise transmission of the Efe song text. At the same time it
adds the combined power of the united communal voice. As one term for
the chorus, alagbé, implies, these voices “carry” the song to all parts of the
assemblage, thus teaching it and encouraging full audience participation.
After Oro Efe’s solo, the chorus moves as a group through the perfor-
mance area. Supported by the rhythms of the drum ensemble, the chorus
sings the text through completely and repeats it as many times as is
necessary for the entire audience to learn the melody and the words. Like
a spokesman for the king, the chorus makes public the sacred utterances,
AQconenuins to sing until the entire audience joins in the performance in a
af united and spirited manner. This full participation implies acceptance of

OB WS and support for the opinions expressed by Oro Efe! Some songs, of —~

~Aas
ourse, may be more popular than others, but nonetheless the commu-
Sw (Sv nity joins in the singing. This united expression of public opinion has the
C “Nit ower to strengthen the communication with extraordinary beings (gods,
t .
\vancestors, the mothers) as well as the practical power to compel antisocial
W
nA ae Ww
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 45
individuals to “mend their ways” or face public ridicule, ostracism, or
banishment. The weight of public opinion voiced by Oro_Efe and~
intensified by communal assent can and does have the power to affect the
future; it has the=power of ave.
The choral phase differs from Oro Efe’s solo performance in several
respects. Consisting of men and women in the cult, the chorus performs
as a loosely organized social unit, although choral leaders occasionally
sing more loudly and with more embellishment. The degree of tonal
blend depends on the amount of practice the chorus has had. The
volume is high at the outset but decreases slightly as audience participa-
tion increases. The chorus takes considerable freedom with the rhythmic
structure of the song, using very pronounced glissando. Its rhythm varies
some, but generally the attacks and releases are well coordinated, al-
though they become less so when the audience joins in. Both male and
female chorus members sing above their normal speaking range, gener-
ally in the head register. But in contrast to Oro Efe, the chorus is more
resonant with only intermittent tenseness and harshness. Overall, the Efe
choral performance is one of vocal unity touched with fleeting individual
variations done in a joyful manner.
Most Efe songs are simple strophes: a series of three to eight phrases
that are repeated, phrase by phrase, over and over, with no insertion of
new material and no change in order. Thus, the phrase structure and
performance format of an Efe song might be ABABCCDDEDED,
ABABCCDDEDED, repeated until the entire audience has learned the
song. Approximately half the text is repeated with little or no embellish-
ment. Phrases range from three to seven seconds in length and have a
distinctly undulating, wavelike melodic shape, which is greatly empha-
sized by the glissando of the chorus. The phrases are generally executed at
a slow to medium tempo."
The drum ensemble provides accompaniment when the chorus (aban-
iro) and assembled audience join in the singing. It establishes a steady,
strong rhythm, which continues throughout the repetitions of each Efe
song. Despite its strength and persistence, the drum accompaniment re-
mains subordinate to the song, which is sung by an ever-increasing num-
ber of people as it is distributed through the crowd. The tonal blend in
the drum ensemble is moderate. The zyalu and omele drums are of similar
construction yet differ in size, pitch, and manner of playing. The zyalu is
played with the hands while omele ako are played with thin sticks, thereby
producing different tonal qualities.
iihererare ieee musical interludes between Oro Efe’s song
presentations:a slow, simple beat playedd bybyaa gonfs striker (aldago), which
serves to announcethat Oro Efe is about to begin a song, and short bursts
of notes on a ffi (fere), that approximate the tonal pattern ofYoruba
phrases, sometimes calling Oro Efe by name and praising him, some-
 46 GELEDE

times instructing the audience to quiet down and listen, or sometimes

imitating the first words of the singer. The gong and the flute help only
to announce the beginning of the song presentation but do not continue
to play once Oro Efe starts his song. The gong rhythm has little flexibil-
ty; the flute, on the other hand, has great rhythmical freedom.

Invocation
One of the first songs offered by Oro Efe is {self-assertion Jorikase.
Tkase, literally “to step out slowly . . . with measured tread” (Abraham
1958:356), may form part of Oro Efe’s opening material. It is sometimes
embedded in an juba, but it is usually presented as a separate song
immediately following the guba.
Both yuba and tkase serve to insure the eaeis safety during his
perilous performance. In the ijuba, Oro Efe expresses his honor and
obedience to those more powerful than himself. In the zkase, however, he
directs his words to the general audience and seeks protection through
self-affirmation. He asserts his right and obligation to serve as the com-
munal voice by recalling the names of the predecessors who passed the
authority to him and by boasting about his prowess as a singer and his
wisdom as an elder. With these justifications, Oro Efe seeks to increase
his chances for success by verbally increasing his stature and the power of
his presence. He thus fixes himself at a place comparable in stature to ,
that of supernatural forces from which he can, with impunity, ridicule
and condemn important persons in the community who might pre
attempt to destroy or diminish him physically and spiritually.
The following zkase demonstrates self-affirmation. Oro Efe begins by
challenging the audience to solve the riddles he will sing (lines 1-4) and
compares himself to the awdko bird, which is renowned among the
Yoruba for its singing ability (line 5)."” He asserts his wisdom in knowing
the proper moment to begin his voyage (i.e., his performance) just as the
boatman knows the safe time to sail (lines 6-9). He then establishes his
importance in relation to the audience by using “pecking order” imagery.
First, he associates himself with a rich mamin relation to a pawn (iwofa), a
debtor-who
flbeee offers himself as a bondsman to his creditor. Second, using
n is the pointed h that pierces and subdues his wife,
\ | the fi 1). Third, with olitical imagery, he becomes the “king of
_Efe,” for whom all must prostrate ; Just as the magnificent king
‘of Ketu recognized political domination by the white man during the
Weolenet era, and Agura Quarter bowed down before Ademola, the
| paramount king or Alake of Abeokuta (lines 12-14). Then, returning to
his elevated status and emphasizing his royalty, he demands respect from
his subjects, literally “lionizing” himself in relation to those around him.
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 47

Thus buttressed, Oro Efe can now voice his opinions with impunity,
secure in his superior position and in his vital power.

1 Ayandokun, a riddle, a riddle, riddle, riddle

2 Okegbemi, a riddle, riddle, riddle, riddle
3 If I gave a riddle, who could solve it
4 I will take a song and fool you
5 The awoko has come from a journey, the head of the singers has
come
6 I, the wise one, have come out, have come out, may my coming be
good
7 When the river is in flood, the boatman sails
8 Aresa, I have come out, come out, may my coming be good
g When the river is in flood, the boatman sails
10 A pawn never equals a man with money
11 A hook is the husband of a fish
12 The king of Ketu salutes the white man with “sir”
13 Agura Quarter prostrates before King Ademola
14 I have become the King of Efe, all youths prostrate before me
15 A dog can never rival a leopard
1
2 Okeghemi ald alé alo ald
3 Binba palo tan Vo le malo mi
4 Ma f’orin re won je
5 Awoko t’ajo de, ol6ri alaréye
6 Olugbon mo d’ode, mo d’ode ode ré
7 B’odo kun ol6k6 a la ja
8 Aresa mo d’ode, mo d’ode ode ré
oe) B’odo kun ol6k6 a la ja
10 Iwofa kan ki jolowo lo
11 Iwo loko ea
12 Oba Alakétu mbé’ni Sa’ foyinb6é
13 Agurd ndobale bo ba f’oju k’Ademola tan
14 Mo doba éfé 0, majesi e dobale
15 Aja ki b’ekun ra gbagba
[Recorded in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

In a briefer self-asserting song, Oro Efe likens his dramatic perfor-

mance to a blazing fire (line 1), his power to that ofa leopard (line 5), and
his voice to the sweetness of honey (line 7):

1 Wood is burnt to a knot

2 People of Aiyetoro, I have really come
3 Wood is burnt to a knot
4 People of Aiyetoro, I have really come
5 Ifa dog spies a leopard, he will tell himself to be careful
 48 GELEDE

6 If a dog spies a leopard, he will tell himself to be careful

~I Eh!! Honey has come, throw away the bean cakes
I gi jo 6kan koko
Ar’Atyetoro, mo de ni nt
I gi jo 6kan koko
Ar’Azyetoro, mo de ni nt
Baja ba f’oju kan ektin yio sofin apepe
) Baja ba foju kan ektin yio sofin apepe
E!! Oyin de e gbe akara sonu
[Recorded in Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Finally, before launching into songs on various topics, Oro Efe mar-
shals his company of performers—drummers and singers—as he boasts
of his retentive memory:

Drummers stand up! I am about to sing

nN
- Olojede don’t waste any more time [bis]
es
°
Omele drummers it is in your hands
Iyalu drummers begin to drum well
All who are to sing, don’t be playful
Singers are you correct, we are correct
Tell Salawu that the singers should be correct
ContI, the one with endless wisdom, will recite the history including
MO
not only the exact day we came to settle this land, but who
cooked and what they ate!
Onilu ko nde! Ngo sorin ko
Olojede ma ma safara mé [bis]
Olomele o ma dowo re
Oniya’lu ko pa wo'da
Gbogbo eniti ngberin e ma sawada
Olorin se e tt pea ti pe
E wi fun Salawu ko lorin o pe pere
+
N
OOF
Mor
Con]Ngo pitan ologbonjogbon njo ta de ’le yi ta lo se’be t’a je
[Collected in Aibo Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

A second type of invocation, which follows the voicing of zkase, is the

prayer for blessingson
yn the
community asa whole) Oro Efe expresses the
communal longing for good ToTtane andfulfillanént iin life, which inheres
in health, wealth, progeny, peace, and longevity; he appeals to the forces
to hear and accept these supplications, and the people add their accord
with raised voices. Sung prayers invariably recall the pefiodic scourge of
smallpox and, more recently, of cholera. References to wealth, associated
with agricultural success, appear in requests for good weather, relief
from locust invasions, and profitable markets.
The request for offspring is aperennial concern among a people
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 49

plagued with high rates of infan rtality. A man feels accursed if he =~

has no children to bear his name, to work his fields, to support him in his
old age, to bury him, or to keep his memory alive after death. Since the
mothers control menstrual blood as well as agricultural fertility, it is not
surprising to find these Efe songs occurring frequently at annual festi-
vals.
Efe songs concerned with peace were prevalent during the
nineteenth century, a period of intermittent warfare in many parts of PACE
Yorubaland, especially in Gelede areas. Some of the oldest songs col-
lected in Egbado recall the ever-present threat of Dahomean invasion
and Egba encroachment. Peace was, thus, of vital importance to the rela-
tively defenseless Gelede areas of Egbado, Awori, ,and
andKetu
Ketu. :
<=
A final concern is with the desire for a full and long life. The Yoruba
view death at an early age as a great tragedy, especially if the deceased PuvLenk LZ
has no children. Such a death is often regarded as the work of an enemy,
perhaps someone jealous of the person’s good fortune. Death in old age,
however, is regarded as a normal and joyful occurrence. The funeral of
an elderly person is celebrated with happiness because long life, in and of
itself, is viewed as fulfillment.
In the following Efe song, Oro Efe asks the mothers to explain the
sudden, unexpected deaths that are occurring and to bring them to an
end. He reminds the mothers that he (i.e., the community) has offered
certain medicinal leaves to calm their anger, but that farming and hunt-
ing accidents continue to occur (lines 1—4).'° The references to hoe and
knife accidents may mean deaths caused by Ogun, working on behalf of
the destructive mothers, who “hide under all the gods” and whose
vengeance is sometimes symbolized by knives. Then in an appeal to
Sango, god of lightning and thunder, who is most angered by untruth-
fulness, Oro Efe insists upon his honesty (lines 3—4). He points out that a
thunderbolt would never strike_a-young osé. The efers to the ose
Sango, a double-celted wooden dance axe carried by devotees of Sango
and placed in Sango shrines. The inference is that Sango would never
destroy one of his own children. Oro Efe asks, Have you oso and qe, who
are our progenitors, forgotten us? (lines 6-11). He pleads for the
mothers’ forgiveness and their protection from sudden death, and calls
for the support of all assembled (lines 12-16).
Throughout this request, Oro Efe exhibits sensitivity toward
superior and unpredictable power. He attempts to reason with and calm
the mothers in proclaiming sincerity in his concern. He pleads with them
to hear his words. He even suggests that one of the society members may
have “offended,” and, if so, the offender alone should be made to suffer
the consequences. The tone is persuasive yet respectful, far different
from the self-assertive tone of the zkase. Oro Efe must exercise caution
and, above all, patience in dealing with the powerful mothers.
 50 GELEDE

1 Orijio leaves charmed you to forgive my misdeeds [62s]

2 Never have we suffered death from hoes, never from knives
3 Have I hed? [bis]
4 Never have we seen a thunderbolt strike a young osé
Wizard in the house were you not the one who fathered me
DH Are you not our fathers?
Or

> Why do you not know us any longer

8 Powerful mother in the house were you not the one who gave
birth to us
g Are you not our mothers?
10 Why do you not know us any longer
11 Itis prohibited for a dog to devour its child [dts]
12 Our mother opake forgive us our misdeed
13 Ifa cult member has offended, expose him
14 Join us in our offer of thanksgiving to Agbojo"
15 Onidofoi was the one who saved us from death
16 Youths, elders, family members, visitors greet me for my
dangerous journey
1 Ewe orijié lope e f’oraro jimi [bis]
2 Ai gboku oko, mo lai gbo tobe
3 Mofi puro ndan [bis]
4 E wo arira ki p’osé lai gbo
5, Osé'le se be nyin le bi ma
6 Se b’enyin ni baba wa
7 Kilo se te o tun mo wa mo
8 Ajé’ le se be nyin le bi wa
g Se be enyin ni iyad wa
10 Kilo se té o tun mo wa mo
11 E wo ni aja ki run omo re ko kan egun [bis]
12 yd wa opake e fori eyijiwa
13 Lyd ma ma je nsise a sé fi sun ntomo awo
14 E bawa dupe lowo Agbojo o
15 Onidofoi gbawala nbo gbawa la ni ngo ku mo
16 T’ewe tagba o, at’onile t’alejo, mo nie ma ki mi ewu
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

The third category of invocation is the GLADE as the ijuba,

ikase, and prayers invoke the forces for positive ends, so an epe calls upon
those same forces for the destruction or diminution
of an enemy. An epe
has the same power as the other invocations with the limitation that “a
curse reflects before it attacks” (Epéé nro ké té ja) (Abraham O50. 101) sine
other words, an undeserved curse cannot take effect and, in fact, may
return upon the curser. Thus as Ogundipe, an Oro Efe from Ketu,
explains, “If someone has offended society, [Oro] Efe will compose a
song predicting his doom and the song will come true.” There are
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 51

numerous instances of curses sung as Efe songs that are believed to have
taken effect. For example, during World War II some soldiers camped
near the town of Imasai began to “molest” the townspeople, so an epe was
composed and sung requesting the deities to “remove the troublesome
soldiers.” Within a few days “the soldiers began to die a few at atime...
which made the rest leave.” Asiwaju (1975:258) also notes an Efe curse
S2MUS
that caused death from fire and one as a result of insanity. The voiced ~ MITRE oF
—_

power of these songs make Efe much more serious than mere “joking? _27%
The following epe was sung by an Oro Efe whose house in Aiyetoro
was burned during the political upheavals in Yorubaland in December
1965 and January 1966. Lines 5—6 offer a reproach to those who think
they can hide the terrible things they have done in the past. It recalls
another Efe song that says character (twa) “follows you wherever you go.”
In lines 7-9, Oro Efe calls on Aibo and Idofoi Quarters of Aiyetoro to
avenge him with a horrific death that implies destruction by the mothers,
“with eyes plucked out like shells” (line 9).

Fire spread swiftly on Alapa’s house

People of Aiyetoro you are treacherous
Fire spread swiftly on Alapa’s house
People of Aiyetoro you are treacherous
The wickedness you seek to forget will find you
The wickedness you seek to forget will find you
Aibo is the next to avenge me
Idofoi, come and avenge me
&
WN
OF
Mop
O
On
All who set fire to my house may you die with eyes plucked out
like shells
Ina feré ni'le Alapa
Ara Atyetoro e kote nkun
Ina feré nile Alapa
Ara Atyetoro e kote nkun
Tka Ve ghe sonu, e 0 vi hé
Tha V’e gbe sonu, e 0 ri hé
Abo loki ké gbeja mi o
Idofoi e wa gbeja mi o
OnI
ND
OF
Moh
O
Ghogbo eni sun’le mi a ku y'oju nt’okoto

In another curse, Oro Efe attacks those who have slandered him
unjustly (line 1). Calling the mothers by their praise names, zya mi osoron-
ga/songa and oldbe songa, “the one with knives songa” (lines 3 and 4), he
asks them to punish the offenders.

1 Those whom I did not offend are slandering me

2 Mother I leave it in your hands
3 My Mother Songa bring trouble to him
 52 GELEDE

4 Mother I leave it in your hands, ‘Vhe-One-With-Knives-Songa

1 Eniti ngo sé ti nfejo mi sun

2 yd ni ngofilé Vow6
3 Lyd mi Songa ni o gbe wahdla ba
4 Iya ni,ngo fi lé Vow6d Olobe Sdnga
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Social Comment

The bulk of Oro Efe’s performance consists of commentary on con-

temporary events that have occurred in the community since the last
Gelede festival. The singer delves into all aspects of community life that_
affect itsycontinuity and (stability, especially sexual behavior, politics, reli-
‘fon, and competition. On these topics, Oro Efe utilizes two methods of
7 persuasion—positive reinforcement through praise and blessing, and
1 24 qpegative reinforcement through ridicule, condemnation, and curse. The
eae weight of such judgment is not Oro Efe’s alone, for in one united voice
the entire audience adds its collective social pressure and power.
Criticism of improper behavior, usually between the sexes, is popu-
lar in Efe and Oro Efe seems to derive as much enjoyment from such
scandals as does his audience. Songs of this sort are usually in a mocking
tone that highlights by exaggeration the grotesqueness of the situation.
In a direct reference to a sexual scandal within the community, Oro Efe
criticizes the culprits.

Who owns the child, who owns the pregnancy?

Pregnancy caused a fight in the house of Ajele
Who owns the child, who owns the pregnancy?
Pregnancy caused a fight in the house of Ajele
O yi se nan pe jr Vojoko re [bis]
You can't have one pregnancy by two persons
Wife of Ajele, to whom does the pregnancy belong?
You can’t have one pregnancy by two persons

Tani lomo tani Voytin ri?

Oyun se @ya wile Ajele
Tani lomo tani Voyuin ri2
Oyun se @ya nile Ajele
O yi se nan pe ji Vojoko re [bis]
Ai Voytin kan fenia meji
Iyawé Ajele talo p’oloyun ni ri?
Ai Voyuin kan fenia meji
[Recorded at Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

In a second song concerned with sexual behavior Oro Efe expresses

a clear-cut opinion about morality and alludes to several traditional
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power

values that have been violated. The first and most serious crime is adul-
tery, referred to in lines 3-4 when Oro Efe asks, “Did Ogunsola marry
iqWaal
his wife for you?” A second transgression compounds the crime, for it is
committed by a rich and conceited man against his elder. In the tradi-
tional setting, wisdom based_ letermined status. But with changes
yor
in the economic system, money has begun to play a deter mining role ot
prestige and power. In this case, money makes the junior feel superior to
jis elder, thus upsetting the social and moral laws
of the ancestors. Oro
Efe,
as the advocate
of order and justice, exposes the foolishness of aman
who would “pull on a snake’s neck” and voices the Yoruba belief that
“sinners will not go unpunished” (cf. Idowu 1962:146):

The conceited man with all his money is teasing his elder
The conceited man with all his money is teasing his elder
Did Ogunsola marry his wife for you?
Did Ogunsola marry his wife for you?
Wicked person who pulls on the snake’s neck
Wicked person who pulls on the snake’s neck
If the viper bites you should I be concerned?
&
N
OF Wicked person who pulls on the snake’s neck
Morb
ConI

Onigbéraga owo wé loni o téwa fi ndigbo V’egbe baba é

Onighéragd owo wé loni o téwa fi ndigbo lV’egbe baba é
Ogunsola fé’yawo fin e nidan
Ogunsola fé’yawo fin e nidan
Olosi to nlé fa’run ej6
Ol6si to nlé fa’run ej6
B’oka bu e je 0 kan mia bio kan mi [se 0 kan mi?|
hb
Go Olosi to nlé fa’riin ejo
Croc,
Com

[Collected in Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Men and women have clearly defined sex roles in a polygamous and
patriarchal society. The most senior male of the compound is expected to
play the role of arbiter. Although women have economic independence,
they have less overt power in their domestic roles as co-wives since they CunAss
are strangers in their husbands’ compounds. In such a situation it would Ly¢Wile
be regarded as ridiculous for a man to “cook,” “wash,” and “grind pep-
per” as it would be for the wife “to threaten her husband with a cutlass,” IRS INITY
an instrument that symbolizes masculinity and physical force. Oro Efe, as + Pict fixe:
critic supreme, utilizes striking contradictory imagery to underscore the
absurdity of the situation and of the individuals involved. In line 5 he
implies the wife is “something else” since she wreaks havoc. The husband
is called “Sango,” a male deity noted for his strength, courage, and hot
temper, in order to highlight his lack of these qualities. Biting sarcasm
and repetition combine to create an unequivocal statement on improper
behayvtor>
 54 GELEDE

t Fora husband to grind pepper and grate cassava

2 Fora husband to grind pepper and grate cassava
3 For a husband to cook cassava meal and wash pots
4 Fora husband to cook cassava meal and wash pots
5 The wife you married, Sango, is something else!
6 She threatened her husband with a cutlass at the market
7 She threatened her husband with a cutlass at the market
8 I heard him shout to all around, “help me!”
g She threatened her husband with a cutlass at the market
K’oko 6 U'6ta ko tun rin p’aki
K’oko 6 V6ta ko tun rin p’aki
Oo
N&
K’oko 6 téba ko tun fo sastin
K’oko 6 téba ko tun fo sastin
Iyaw6 vefé fun Sango ma k6 yoyo
O yada s’oko ni sale aja
O y’'ada s’oko ni sale aja
Mo loko nki gbe gbogbo aradugbo “e gba mi!”
OnO yada soko ni sale aja
Moh
O
[Recorded in Igan Okoto, 1971]

Politics is another popular topic in Efe songs. Oro Efe concerns

himself with both external and integnaLaffairs. The former include wars
Re or disagreements with neighbor ng towns or-areas, boundary disputes,
wit) colonial administration, and, ee a political parties; while
fesunt ‘047 Re latter usually involve chieftaincy controversies, headship «claims, and
land disputes.’ In these songs, Oro Efe utilizes positive and negative
reinforcement or merely serves as mediator of the dispute by emphasiz-
ing the community's desire for settlement.
A mid-nineteenth-century political Efe song seems to have been pre-
served by Ajisafe (1964:107), although he does not identify it as such. In
1856 the Aibo people in Egbado challenged the Egba with a song after
they had destroyed the Egbado town of Ilogun. The lyric “by your de-
stroying Ilogun—you thrust your hands between the teeth of a poisonous
serpent” provoked the Egba to retaliate by destroying Aibo the following—
year. Ironically, the song may have brought internal unity to the Aibo (
community, but it also brought destruction by external forces. —_— y)

In the following song, Oro Efe attempts to settle a dispute between

Panku and Epo, two towns within the political domain of Ketu. He re-
minds the protagonists that they are one and should not disagree (lines
3-7). In line 5 he calls for the return of balance with “The right cannot do
without the left.” Oro Efe rebukes the opposing parties in line 8, stating
that there is no glory in disorder (“dust”) in a household, and in line 11
he asks Aka to reconcile both sides. Oro Efe stresses intelligence and
reason in order to restore equilibrium and order in the society:
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 55

Panku must join together with Epo

They should not disagree
Do not be annoyed child of Ori, we are of the same blood
Do not be annoyed child of Ori, we are of the same blood
The right [hand] cannot do without the left
It is not good in front of Janesi [Jeunesse= youth?]
Let us not hear of disunity
I have not seen the glory of dust in the house
onBroken wall must be rebuilt for biting tongue can belittle our
ND
OF
O
Morb
town
10 Rebuild for disagreements can belittle the town
11 Unite to convince Aka in this matter
12 That Ketu may rise to success

Panku won ko papo m’Epé

K’enu ko ba de
E ma ibinu omo ort nitoré int itini irc itini
E ma ibinu omo ori nitoré irk itini iri itini
Otin ko ma lo mo 6si
Ko daa lou Janesi
E ma ye k’agb6
Cont
&
N
OF
Mor Nko té rogo a ti rafu nle
Alapa e nde mo l’enu koko ni so’lu ini di kekere
(kes) E ko nde enu ko papo ni iso int di kekere
_ (e}
E ghajo ke ba ni ba m’Aka sor6 yi
_ noKi Kétu me kun run ko yeje
[Recorded in Ketu, 1971]

A more contemporary commentary refers to the mid-1960s crisis in

Nigeria that led to the demise of the government. Oro Efe chides those
politicians whose carelessness, audacity, and disregard for the people led
to their downfall at the hands of the mothers and praises those who have
worked for their constituents:

This world is harsh for you politicians

Anyone who wants to live in this world must be very careful [ds]
Watch what you say, for the world is heavy
You politicians, the world requires caution
Those who were doing it whom we told were not doing it properly
“The world” cut them away as bananas are cut from the stem
Those who were doing it whom we told were not doing it properly
“The world” blew them away like shafts from wheat
Sardauna died, we saw Balewa no more
“People of the world” killed Bello, Okotiebo packed up and left
Adegbenro with Odebiyi prepare to avenge
You did not allow a single child to suffer
 56 GELEDE
Those who behave wickedly the “people of the world” will curse
It is a bad death that Akintola died

Aiyé wonyi soro ényin omo dselti

Eniti oba gbaiyé ko so ra e [bis]
Ko s‘onu tort ayé wuwo
Enyin oselii aiyé di pelépelé
Awon to ti ko se tia pe won 6 sére
Aiyé be won d’'anu bi ogedé
Awon to ti ko tia pe nwon 6 sére
Aiyé fe won d’'anu bi iyangbé
Sardauna 6 si, A 6 ri Balewa mo
Araiyé pa Bello, Okotiebo ko ti é lo
Adegbenro muré pélu Odebiyi ya nyin langbe
E mase je’ya 6 jé omo kan
E ni ba s@ka 0 Var'aiyé 0 ftSpe
Tku oro VAkintola ku
[Recorded in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Efe songs also deal with the expected behavior in the performance of
religious obligations. The proper execution of fundamental religious_
rites is necessary for continuity and stability in the community. Oro Efe—
condemns any divergence from the accepted,traditional norm. Tn the Rs
following song, Oro Efe cites a funeral at which certain adults showed
great irreverence for the deceased. The mourners had carried the coffin
to the market, where they slaughtered a goat and shed its blood on the
ground. Afterward, as one group was about to take the meat home to
prepare and share it, a fight broke out regarding the rightful owner of
the goat. Oro Efe, in condemning foolish and sacrilegious behavior, ex-
plicitly reproves the individuals. Directness and repetition reinforce the
harsh judgment of lack of character (twa), which is equivalent to lack of
wisdom, a regrettable situation for elders whose wisdom is expected to
surpass that of the general population.

Because of the deceased’s goat you began to fight in public

Because of the deceased’s goat you began to fight in public
Okanlawon came and claimed to own the goat
Okanlawon came and claimed to own the goat
You elders have no character
You elders have no character
Tell Disu that the goat he is collecting belongs to Egbedokun
You elders have no character
Nitori eran ort posi le se nko ja loju tite
Nitort eran ort posi le se nko ja loju tite
Okanlawon b’dde o si jele ran
Okanlawon b’ode o si jele ran
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 57

A @agbalagba ma mo twa hun

A dagbalagba ma mo iwa hun
E so fun Disu eran Egbédokun
A @agbalagba ma mo iwa hun
[Collected in Imala, 1971]

The last category of social commentary deals with hierarchy based ,

on age. Such ordering reflects various levels it t | ko ZA
wealth, position, or “book knowledge,” that brings wisdom.Thus, in a RESON
society that is undergoing rapid social change with the resultant loss of || Jo CHA AG:
traditional social controls, Oro Efe often criticizes youths who think they \| 7° 4z WG
know more than their elders. In the following song obvious exaggeration
(line1) mocks the foolishness of youth, while pointed understatement
completes the satire (line 2). In allegorical imagery, the one who was sent
simply to collect the soup presumptuously tried to improve it, failing to
consider that the specialist is more knowledgeable (lines 3—4). These lines
are a reminder to impetuous youth that men, like animals, acquire their
own special capabilities through experience, but they may be suitable for
one thing and not for another (line 5). This lesson is also embodied in the
proverb “If a young man wants to behave like an elderly man, the date of
his birth will not let him” (Delano 1966:132):

1 Ah, truly young children are very wise

2 However I say they are not as wise as their elders
3 We called you to get the soup, but you went to add water to it
4 But you are not as wise as the one who cooked it
5 A goat is different from a horse, a white man is different from a
Hausa
6 You are not as wise as the one who did the cooking
Otité Vomode kekere gbén
Mbimo ni o le gbén tagbalagba
A nio wa gb’obe 6 6 ta’mi si
O lé ghén teni 0 mo se obé
ND
089
OtP
Ewure ya f’esin dyinbé ya fun gambart
6 Olé gbén t’eni to mo se obe
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

History (4 RAT
Efe songs not only comment on the contemporary scene but als ASI ¥
record and preserve the past by means of historical recitations. In the aa
major Yoruba capitals such as Oyo, Ketu, and Ile-Ife, there has always
oraltradition(CE
been a court lineage responsible for the preservation of
Parrinder 1967:23—24; Johnson 1973:3)- These accounts include royal
 58 GELEDE

genealogies and prominent historical events or conditions that charac-

terized each reign. Smaller towns and villages, however, often have no
official court historians. The task is left to Ore Efe, who, in song, not only
preserves recent occurrences but also recalls past events and personalities
spanning many generations. Such historical Efe songs include genea-
logies and significant political events as well as cult histories. The follow-
ing historical Efe song recalls the names of six kings (gba) who have ruled
at Aiyetoro, Egbado, since its founding early in this century (c. 1902).
Oro Efe does not simply enumerate them; he characterizes their reigns
and embellishes the text with praise names:

Seriki was the leader who enjoyed life like a king

The turn of events overcame him [bzs lines 1—2]
Debeodero was next to enjoy life
He fought well and died [bis lines 3—4]
Peluola spent a short time before his death
Then came Akinola, the hero who reigned at an old age [bis lines
5-6]
It came to Asamu, the king who stepped with dignity
Life came to you Omidokun, be tenacious

Seriki ni 0gd to ké yayé bi oba

Binibini Vatyé nyt aryé yt po
Debeodero lo y'aiyé te ae
O bo gun ja o bogin lo
Péliiola se sa kan ko to ré ebi
Okén Akinola 6r6 a fi emi agba
O kan Asamu oba ogbese gb’ola
Auyé yt kan e Omidokun, ko mura girigirt
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

A song collected by Father Thomas Moulero (1970:20—22) in the vicinity

of Ketu credits a man named Edun—a name given to a twin—with the
introduction of Gelede and its spread throughout thirteen towns in the
Ketu kingdom:

Edun of Ibadan was going on a trip

When the evening came, the drumming of the ocean could be heard
Father, where does one dance at this hour, asked the people?
It is Edun who brought [imported] Gelede [bis]
It is Edun who brought it
And we are proud of it [bis]
The [Gelede] dance arrived at Iranjin, then from there to Igan-Gura
It is Edun who brought it!
We are proud of it [bis]
The people of Ika went with two small goats [as payment] to ask for it
The dance quietly made its appearance at Ofia
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 59

The people of Omu having learned about it came to be initiated

From there Gelede arrived at Odogbo
The people of Iju quickly went to get permission to do it
The children of Ibepere having learned of it came to be initiated
Quietly the dance came to Awayi
In the same way it made its appearance at Idie
Those of Gbogburo ran to receive it
Those of Issaba ran to be initiated
Father, this is the history that was told to me and which I have kept in
my memory
It is not before me that Gelede began, it existed a long time ago
Men and women, you must take it seriously
Those of you who are present, inform those who are absent
Men and women, be attentive
That was the work of Edun the originator
Edun Ibadan lo lo V'ajo
Igba o di Vale, Volokun nlu
Baba, libist won nj6 Vawoye?
Igboyi Gelede ti ’odun bo [bis]
Edun l’o lo mu wa le
L’a nfi se thale [bis]
Tjo wo’ Ranjin, o yo sTgan-Gura
Edun lo lo mu wa le, ko se!
L’a nfi se thale [bis]
Omo Ika won Veran mejifigba a
L’yj6 se gbere yo s'Ofta
L’omo Omu won gbo l’a wa gba
Tjo se gbere yo sOdogbo yi
Ara Iju won sare wa gba a
Omo Bekpere gbo a wa gba a
Tjo se gbere 0 wo'li Awayr
O se gbere ode eta Idie
Gboburo won sdré a wa gba a
Issaba won sare a wa gba
Baba, itan a kpa mi fi s’okan
Igba ijo ti se jinna
K’e ko le sa, e t'ako t’abo
Oni yi o wa ibi k’orohin f’om ko wa
K’e ko'le sa, e Vako tabo yekun
Ohkile Edun ko na

Funeral Commemoration

Funeral commemoration songs are heard at the annual festivals and

at special Gelede ceremonies in honor of a recently deceased member of
the society or a prominent citizen in the community. On such occasions
 60 GELEDE

Oro Efe commemorates the deceased with songs of praise and honor. He
recalls the person’s stature, character, and role in life and prays that his
positive influence may still exert its power for the good of the commu-
nity. In the following commemoration, Oro Efe urges the chorus to sing
more to honor the death of a great man (lines 1—2). Lines 3 and 4 seem to
be equating the death of a prominent man with that of an elephant and
buffalo, two impressive and powerful animals. The meaning of the “pot”
in lines 3—4 1s obscure. One possible explanation may be related to what
Fadipe (1970:280) refers to as drun apddi, “the abode of the dead with
which potsherd is associated.” He states that in a funeral ceremony, the|
soul of the deceased is summoned to appear before his relatives in order \ ae

for it to be released from its earthly abode. If it fails to appear by the

third calling, it is usually threatened with orun apadi, which Abraham
(1958:57) translates as “hell.” A more obvious explanation is that no
matter how powerful an animal may be, it eventually dies and becomes
nothing more than meat cooked in a pot. Sacas
Oro Efe admonishes the chorus to sing well and to continue calling
their deceased father home. He then asks other Oro Efe—several sing at
Efe in some Egbado towns—to sing with mournful voice; this probably
indicates that the deceased, a society member and singer, died at a rela-
tively young age (lines 7-11). In line 11, the whisk symbolizes what tradi-
tionally belongs to a family—something hereditary, as in the Yoruba
saying, “the horse dying leaves the tail behind; the children survive the
parents” (Beyioku 1946). Thus, although the father has died, his pres-
ence continues, a reflection of the Yoruba belief that the lineage is eter-
\nal:

I am looking at you to see how you do the ceremony

You chorus have not sung enough
Elephant died in the farm and the pot ate it up
Buffalo died in the farm and the pot ate it up
You sang well during Bello’s performance
All Oro Efe who are in the market
We must all use mournful voice in singing
& We are calling upon you to come, come, father Adebayo, sleep no
ND
OF
MOorvP
COonI

longer away from home

g We are calling upon you to come, come, Akewe Bello, sleep no
longer away from home
10 He could no longer rise up, could no longer sing
11 Father Labode, death caused the whisk to fall from the hand of
the cult member a
— Mo nwo nyin loye be 6 ti s'awo si ni
2 Egbé Akingele e 6 ma sere to
3, Erin ku Voko magudu fi je
 Efe Songs—Voicing Power 61
4 Efon ku loko magudu fi je
5 E seré ti Bello ko dara
6 Gbogbo éfe to wa loja
7 Gbhogbo wa ni ka sé ma f’ohun aro s’efe
8 A npe e k6 dide ko dide Baba Adebayo ko ma sun mo etile
g A npe e ko dide ko dide Akewe Bello ko ma sun m’etile
10 Ko tun lé dide ko da’rin mo
11 Baba Labodé iku gb'ejo l'owo awo
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

The final song, commemorating a departed mother, wishes her well

in her journey home to the afterworld. Oro Efe thanks the family of the
deceased for its generosity during the funeral rites (line 4) and prays that
the mother will watch over her family:

1 Grandmother slept, mother went to the afterworld undisturbed

2 I say the afterworld is home, Grandmother greet them when you
reach your abode
3 Mother of Juli went to the afterworld a good person [bis]
4 Greetings for spending money, greetings for looking after the
house of the deceased
or Mother will protect your home
Iya Agba bi sun Iya lo sorun gbere
Mo Vorun wile 0, lyé Agba ki won bi b’ode n’le
Tyé Tjili lo s’brun entre
E ku inawo o, é ku asehinde
Iya ¢ sole fun nyin
[Recorded in Ketu, 1971]

Summary

Oro Efe directs his songs to spiritual forces, especially to the mothers,
either explicitly, as in the yuba, or implicitly, as in the songs of social
commentary concerned with antisocial behavior. Sanctioned by the
mothers, the Efe ceremony becomes the/epitome of united communal
voicing with choral repetition and audience involvement The entire
community participates—young, old, male, female, Christian,
Muslim, TW
“devotees of all the Yoruba gods, and the mothers.
So do those not of the Mw Wey
“world, but of orwn, whoinfluence
the lives of men either positively or —- {NC
negatively. The power of Efe, however, does not reside in the act of Le whys (S
voicing alone; indeed its power also derives from the masks and costumes CRANK AN
that give Gelede its reputation as the ultimate spectacle. Sunoe DS,
 The Masks and Costumes
of Efe Night

In addition to its efficacious words, Efe spectacle is a display of enor-

mously diverse masks and costumes. Such diversity suggests a certain
antiquity and illustrates the range of creative images designed to appeal
to and to entertain the “gods society’
of throughout western Yorubaland.
At the same time, however, a number of themes persist and recall the
mythic origin of Gelede.

Opening Masquerades
Night masquerades of assorted forms open Efe performances, that
is, bring them into the world. The program of these masquerades can be
quite extensive or very basic. In some communities the opening process
begins about a week before the actual ceremonies with the appearance of
the herald, Amukoko. Representing a Dahomean warrior with a gash
and welts on his face (pl. 14), he wears a pointed cap covered with
medicine gourds and rectangular Islamic amulets and_smokes a pipe.
Another variation of what appears to be a herald mask shows a seated
male wearing a pointed cap and smoking a pipe (pl. 15). The allusion to
the kingdom of Dahomey is unclear, yet references to Dahomean (Fon)
warriors are a populartheme not only in Gelede but also in Egungun
masquerades among the western Yoruba, where they area Satiric Com-
ment upon incessant Dahomean attacks throughout much of the
nineteenth century (cf. Drewal and Drewal 1978:35, pl. 16 and Schiltz
1978:53, pl. 12). The Dahomeans are typically shown with long gashes on
their faces and protective amulets clustered on their caps, which together
testify to their ability to survive in the heat of battle. Pipes refer to a
popular nineteenth-century pastime among Fon men and women. There
also appears to be an oblique reference to Esu/Elegba both in the func-

62
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 63

PLATE 14. Amukoko represents a

pipe-smoking Dahomean warrior,
with welts and a gash on his face,
wearing a pointed cap covered
with medicine gourds and Islamic
amulets. Lagos, 1978.

PLATE 15. A mask, probably a

herald or Amukoko, depicts a
snake encircling a seated
pipe-smoking man with pointed
cap. Musée Ethnographique, Porto
Novo (55-.9.20).
 64 GELEDE

tion of the masker as herald, i.e., messenger, and in the depiction of pipe-
smoking, which is common in Esu/Elegba’s iconography (cf. Frobenius
1913:228).
In many places Efe opening ceremonies include elaborate programs
of masquerades. One type is Ogbagba, said to represent Esu/Elegba, the
divine mediator whose attire is drawn from the realms of culture and
nature—cloth and leaves. In some instances Ogbagba comes in two
forms. His initial appearance is as a “young boy in a white cap and raffia
skirt,” and people sing, “Eshu comes, with light leaves” (Beier 1958:9).
Later, Ogbagba appears as a grownup wearing banana leaves and iron
anklets. The combination of white woven cap and raffia skirt,
the trans- _
_formation from youth to adult, and the leafy costumes destined for the
rubbish heapsat the edge of town, all capture the unpredictability and
liminality of Esu/Elegba.' a
Another type of masquerade sfArab Ajigbale, |“The-One-Who-
Sweeps-every-Morning,” completely covered in raffia fiber and cloth with
iron idiophones around his ankles. In Ketu, Arabi looks like a small
haystack, but a Lagos version dons a carved mask (pl. 1). Commonly
referred to as Agbale, “The Sweeper,” this mask is painted white with a
black dot on the forehead and, like the Ketu exan\ples, tops a long raffia
fiber costume. At Ketu, this masquerade evoes © un, god of iron.
Ogun, the one SAD clean thebush fonthe sacs enero
opens the way for the living, has as his special clothing young raffia palm
leaves, known as mariwo. Initiates possessed by Ogun’s spirit are dressed
in these palm fronds in a fashion very similar to the Arabi masquerade.
This costume construction and the iron anklets suggest Ogun’s symbolic
complex. In Lagos, however, Arabi Ajigbale is said to represent
Esu/Elegba. Literally “sweeping”
the arena with his broomlike costume
of palm leaves, Arabi Ajigbale “clears the way” (tun ond se) OrOpens the
festivities, a function that is shared by both Esu/Elegba and Ogun.
In another variation of Ajigbale from Egbado, a masquerader with
leggings and a palm leaf skirt, covered with bundles of raffia fiber burn-
ing brightly, charges back and forth four times. The way is cleared im-
mediately. This masquerader appears to be a combination of two
separate performers: Arabi Ajigbale, with the fiber costume, and Pa Ina
Njako (literally “Fire starts without Warning”), an uncostumed person
carrying a pot of fire on the head. Thus, this Egbado Ajigbale seems to be
a condensation of two masqueraders and fulfills both roles at the same
time.’ Se
These various[introductory masqueraders $hare a number of visual
Wy as well as symbolic elements. Their appearances are brief, for they exit as

Ogun and Esu/Elegba—deities who in the context of sacrifices and cere-

EQ
|;
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 65
monies are always invoked first to “clear the way.” They are the spiritual
links between men and the other deities; they mediate the transition
between everyday, ordinary activity—that which exists in the world—and
spiritual activity—that which invokes the deities and anc estors resident in
the otherworldly realm and brings them into the world. Likewise, in-
troductory masquerades carry the festival into the world. In so doing,
they enter the realm of the “owners of the world,” the mothers. It is at
this point in the process that the materialization of the Great Mother
occurs—swiftly, covertly, yet dramatically. Her appearance signals her
approval of what has gone before and sanctions the ritual spectacles to
follow. of tie
Fane [aioe

Nocturnal Mother Masquerades (ecae

The sacred images that appear immediately following the opening bal
masquerades give expression to the awesome aspects of the mothers.’ MissASTONG
They represent the essence of Gelede and constitute, as informants ex- Heal HANS
plain, the very “foundation” (ipilése) of the society. These masks are of Ban) <e oma
two distinct forms yet-are conceptually and functionally. related. They

ieee noma) often called the Great Mother (Iyanla), Ee Spirit Bird) ; SOT,
(Eye Oro
Simplicity, boldness of motif, and massive scale distinguish the Great
Mother mask (pls. 2, 16-23). It has two parts: the head, and a long flat,
boardlike extension below the chin, although in one (pl. 19) the lower
face is extended on the board. Together the head and projection (be-
tween 15 and 36 inches in length) produce a massive headdress. The
head is hemispheric to fit over the upper portion of the performer’s head
and forehead. The features are strong, massive, and clearly defined.
Deep-set, bulging eyes often dominate the face, while heads are shaven
or simply indicate a hairline, a variety of hairstyles, or, more dramatic, a
prominent tuft of hair (6su) crowning the center of the head (pl. 20). The
only other motifs are a snake encircling the head (pl. 21) or a bird
perched on top. Ears, when shown at all, may vary from the standard
Yoruba style and position to small pointed ears placed high on the tem-
ples (pl. 22).
The lower portion, probably the most distinctive feature of the
headdress, is a long, flat or slightly curved projection that emerges from
the jawline or chin of the head and generally extends one or two feet.
Some have three to seven dark blue or black vertical lines painted on the
surface, while others are left unmarked (pls. 21-22). Only one example
(pl. 23) exhibits a more elaborate painted design; it consists of three
wavering vertical lines interrupted by five horizontal bars. The word yeyé,
PLATE 16. A Great Mother mask, its face dominated by large,
deep-set eyes and a long beard, creates a dramatic image of
covert power. Seattle Art Museum. Photograph by Paul M.
Macapia.
The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 67

PLATE 17. A plaited coiffure, lower

lip plug, and a broad beard
characterize this Great Mother
mask. From Clouzot and Level
(1926:pl. 38).

PLATE 18. Having received

countless sacrificial offerings that
have worn a hole in the beard
below the mouth, a mother mask
with bulging eyes lies secluded in
the Gelede shrine. Sawonjo, 1978.
PLATE 1g. In this headdress,
probably a variant of the Great
Mother mask, the nose and mouth
are extended onto the boardlike
projection of the face. Musée Royal
de l'Afrique Centrale, Tervuren
(R. G. 75.49.1).

PLATE 20. Held by female and

male cult leaders, a Great Mother
mask displays a prominent tuft
(osu) as a symbol of medicines and
spiritual power. Ibaiyun, 1975.
The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 69

PLATE 21. This Great Mother

mask has a snake wrapped around
the brow and three vertical lines
adorning the beard. Benin
(RS Pa Belk Oiine

PLATE 22. Three Great Mother

masks with animal-like ears rest
within the Gelede shrine. A white
curtain covers the older ones in the
background. Iwoye, 1973.
 See
PLATE 23. Decorating the elongated beard of a Great Mother
mask are three wavering lines, five horizontal bars, and the word
“Yeye,” a term of endearment for mothers. Benin (R. P. B.),
197:
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night _ty| y \/7 71

aterm of endearment meaning “mother,” is painted across the bottom of

the projection. Aside from these few designs, surfaces are plain, some-
what rough, and almost always white.
The boardlike projection from the chin of the Great Mother mask is
identified explicitly as a beard (irungbdn). A beard defines an elder
(agbalaagba), with all the connotations of knowledge and wisdom that
such status implies. But in the feminine realm the beard takes on addi-
tional meanings, for by definition a bearded woman possesses extraordi-
nary spiritual power. Beards depicted in other Yoruba sculpture are»
much smaller and are sometimes darkened. The exaggeration and elon-
gation of the mother’s beard-emphasize her extraordinary nature, for the
beard on a woman “will not be like a man’s-own.” The |length of the beard
implies longevity and commanding status. The additional element of
whiteness emphasizes these qualities, for the Yoruba say, ewt logbé, WISpay aN,

wrungbon lagba, meaning “old age [wisdom] is shown by white hair, matur-
ity is shown by a beard” (Abraham 1958:169). The beard also suggests Y
the transformation powers of the mothers. A devotee of one Yoruba
deity remarked, “If you see any woman with a bearded chin, she is ‘one
possessing two bodies’ (abaara méji). You will see her one way during the.)
day, and at midnight she will turn to another thing.”
Other icons associated with the bearded mother mask either suggest
or depict transformations. In some headdresses (pl. 22), the ears are
decidedly nonhuman. One carver (Olupona 1975) described a more ex-
plicit reference to transf ion, in which a bird surmounted the head ~
of a bearded mothe mask.Bis,it will be recalled, are a common
symbol of the mothers in transformed state. A song offered in one com-
munity toward the close of bearded mother’s appearance invites the
mothers to dance:

Honored elder apake come and dance with us

All birds come dance with us
Oldjogiin apake ko ba ni 6
Ghogbo eye ko ba ni j6
[Collected in Ibaiyun, 1975]

Another carver (Ogundipe 1975) said, “in the midnight, when the drums
are playing, the mask can turn to a bird.” In some Ketu and Egbado
communities, the nocturnal mother mask literally takes such a form—Eye
Oro or Spirit Bird, which plays upon the mothers’ praise name of Bird-
of-the-Night, Eye Oru (cf. Beier 1958:6)—highlighting explicitly her
powers of transformation and her nighttime activities.
The bird mothers, like the bearded mothers, are awesome in their
bold(simplicity (pls. 3, 24, 25). The whiteness of the cloth and mask
dominates. The long, sharply pointed beak thrusts outward from the
PLATE 24. With blood-red beak and women’s plaited hair, Spirit
Bird exemplifies the mothers’ powers of transformation,
Sawonjo, 1978.

PLATE 25. A simple yet bold Spirit Bird mask displays a long,
pointed beak and crested head. Ibese, 1977.
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 73

domed or crested head with its small eyes. The beak’s lethal quality is
heightened by its blood-red tip and recalls “the one who makes noise in
the midnight, who eats from the head to the arm . . . the liver to the
heart.” These sculpted images closely resemble descriptions of the
mothers transformed into night birds. A story collected in Sala-Orile
describes the bird of the mothers as “one with the large beak which was
blood-red. Its feathers were white. Someone touched it with a stick and it
cried like a witch.’®
Other features highlight the liminality of the bird mother image in
the synthesis of human and animal features. In one (pl. 24) called by its
custodian “elderly woman” (dgbaldagba obinrin), plaited hair crowns the
head. In the other (pl. 3), Eye Oro has human ears. Spirit Bird epitomizes
the praise names of the mothers—‘the one with two bodies” (abaara meji)
r “the one with two faces” (oléju méi). The power of transformation
referred to in these praises originates in concepts of the nature of
women’s life force (ase) and their spiritual head, or oré initin.
Yoruba conceive of the individual as having both exterior (ode) and_-A
interior (7nun) aspects (cf. Abiodun 1980b). A person’s exterior reveals
little or nothing about his true being, character, or intentions; it is simply
his outward physical appearance. The inner aspect controls all thoughts
and actions. The character, personality, and potential of an individual
reside in the spiritual head or ori nun (literally “inside head”) to distin-
guish it from the outer or physical head, ori ode.
Individuals make a conscious effort to conceal the nature of the
inner head as a means of self-protection, for persons reveal this aspect
only when thoughts are uttered or acted out. Revealing or nun can bring
repercussions. Informants expiain that “if someone voices out something
which is bad, then people will be thinking bad of the person and the
person can be poisoned. . . . What is voiced out comes from inside and
that is what we Yoruba call ori nun.” A well-known prayer conveying the
same concern for concealing and controlling the inner self requests,
“May my inner head not spoil the outer one” (Ori intin mi ko ma ba ti ode jé).
“Yoruba perceive a fundamental difference between females and
males in their ability to conceal ori inun. Male informants stress this dis-
tinction in such words as “Women are more secretive than we... . But we
men usually open our secret to anybody” and “Women have many secrets __
> 2 sn >
that they will never tell . . . except [to] their mothers.” Secrecy is believed / on”a

inherent in femaleness. The ability to be self-contained emerges in the

M113
SNe
[es
concept of iraju, a quality possessed by all women. Jroju is patience and “
perseverence (Crowther 1852:157). It connotes the control ofself, of ori
inun, and is matched by another female attribute attested to in the saying Ree
ow6 érd Vows obinrin (“soothing are the hands of a woman”) (Odugbesan
1969). The cool female exterior reflects a composed inner self. ‘This
 74 GELEDE

personal essence is based on the concept of life force. These notions

about women are central to the images representing the mothers.
According to Yoruba belief, the concentration of vital force in
women creates extraordinary potential that can manifest itself in both
positive and negative ways. Terms such as oloju meji, “one with two faces,”
abaara meji, “one with two bodies,” aldawd méi, “one of two colors” aptly
express this duality and allude to the alleged powers of transformation
attributed to certain women, which allow them to turn themselves into
nocturnal creatures such as bats, snakes, rats, and especially birds. ‘The
Yoruba word for these special powers and a woman possessing them is
ajé, which has been translated as “witchcraft” or “witch.” Ulli Beier
(1958:6), however, argues that the English word “witch” is not a very
accurate translation of ae since aje “represents rather the mystic powers
of womanhood in their more dangerous destructive aspect.” Any elderly
woman, her longevity implying secret knowledge and power, may be
regarded as an aje, as are all who hold important titles in cults for the
gods and ancestors. The feeling is that in order to fulfill her role properly
she must possess such power.
These elderly women and priestesses are considered neither antiso-
cial nor the personification of evil. Rather they form an important seg-
ment of the population in any town and tend to be shown much respect
and affection. Because of their special power, they have greater access to
the Yoruba deities. They occupy a position subordinate to those of the
supreme deity, Olodumare, and of Orunmila, god of the Ifa divination
system, and equal or superior to that of the gods.
When angered, the mothers operate surreptitiously to seek out and
‘destroy their victims. Their attacks are believed to result in stillbirth and

mothers and their mysteries intensify their power in the minds of men.
Contrary to images of males that express overt aggression in themes of
war and hunting, female images express themes of secrecy and covert-
ness. Disguised as birds, the mothers operate at night in the middle of the
town or farm, as one of their praise poems proclaims:

My Mother Osoronga, famous dove that eats in the town

Famous bird that eats in a cleared farm who kills an animal without
sharing with anyone
One who makes noise in the midnight ‘
Who eats from the head to the arm, who eats from the liver to the
heart

Iyami Osoronga, afingi adaba ti’nje ldarin ili

 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 75

Afingu eye tv’nje ni gbangba oko ap'eron mahagun

Olokiki oru
A tt ortje apd, a edo je okon
[Collected in Haro, 1975]

Young girls who are impatient, lack self-control, and exhibit anger
are not thought generally to possess this supernatural power, for their
temperamental or fickle natures would expose and dissipate a power that
must remain a mystery. In other words, “they don’t have secret minds,
cool minds.” Informants say that when slandered, cursed, or slapped,
women possessing such power will “just look at you and beg you. Then
some time later another thing will happen.” Elderly women, those past
menopause, are most likely to possess this power, not only because of
their cool, covert, secretive characters but also because they retain blood
that possesses ase, vital force. A praise name for the aged mothers is “the |{/|pe
: . : : : SAL at A 2
one with the vagina that turns upside down without pouring blood. \/ Pe.
Composure and containment are thus essential qualities of the mothers. Sy Yt, .
“If you offend them, they won’t be annoyed. They will just be laughing N~
together with the person, but what they will do to the person is inside.”
Their very restraint communicates complete control of awesome qualities
unequaled by the most commanding male. These qualities emerge in
these most sacred masquerades of the Gelede corpus.’
The procedures used in sheltering the Great Mother’s image be-
tween performances reveal very graphically the attitudes of reverence
and awe toward this most sacred form. At the Ketu Gelede house, Isale-
Eko, Lagos, while Gelede masks hang openly on the walls or rest on
rafters, genetic ast renal ithesine or Ase Gelede, a small
white house with a locked door. Palm fronds over the doorway serve a
protective function, and they warn of an area restricted to initiates be-
cause of the presence of spiritual forces. The male cult leader (babalasé)
murmurs a greeting to the Great Mother and carefully knocks three
times before opening the door. In the center of the darkened room,
raised on a concrete dais, is Iyanla. A spotless white cloth called oloya or
aso funfun envelops her completely, barely revealing the form. Only the
babalase and his assistant are permitted to approach the mask, and
women of childbearing age are prevented from even glancing into the
interior of the shrine. a
In small Ohori, Ketu, and Anago Yoruba communities, the shrine is SHRINE (9
usually located in a small clearing within a sacred forest linked by a 4¢#7# inA
narrow path with the Gelede performance area. At Ibaiyun, an Ohori KA AES —
village east of Pobe, the shrine is a small thatched shelter in the center of
a clearing enclosed by a palm frond fence with palm fronds spanning the
entrance to the grove. The thatched roof covers the remnants of an
 76 GELEDE

earthen mound that probably served as the altar. In the darkness of the
eaves, resting on the rafters, is the Iyanla mask. Before Iyanla could be
brought out into the open, elaborate arrangements were made to prevent
certain people from seeing her countenance, primarily young girls and
women of childbearing age, who, informants explained, might “see the
face while dreaming,” i.e., be visited or attacked by the mothers in night-
mares. Several males stretched long bolts of cloth in front of the grove
entrance, completely blocking the view of those who might be en-
dangered.
In other towns, the mother mask may dwell in slightly different
contexts. At Sawonjo (pl. 18), she no longer emerges from the shrine but
serves as the centerpiece for the altar. The countless offerings of food to
the Great Mother placed on her image below the mouth have worn a hole
in the wood. At Igbogila, the Great Mother is linked with Odua and kept
in her pot-filled shrine (pl. 26). The cloth completely covering the image
can be removed only by cult elders at the time of annual festivals, when a
spotless white cloth replaces the soiled one.
A more complex shrine exists at Iwoye, in Ohori country. A thatched
structure stands in a small clearing some distance from any compound.
At the end of the path is a small shrine for Esu/Elegba, messenger and
confidant of the mothers. A bamboo enclosure at one end of the roofed
area contains a rectangular earthen mound on which three logs provide a
platform for three mother masks (pl. 22). A carefully draped white cloth
veils the two older masks. Despite their age and loss of pigment, they
have been carefully maintained in the shrine. They are no longer used in
performance but remain on the dais as a focus of worship. Only the
newest (in the foreground) emerges from the shrine to perform at night
and only on certain occasions—annual Gelede ceremonies, during repa-
ration of the shrine, or in times of serious communal distress such as
epidemics or drought. In a shrine, then, the mother masks remain par-
tially or completely concealed whether located in an inner shrine, locked
in a room, wrapped in cloth, or veiled by a curtain.
The iconographic simplicity of these masks and the secrecy attend-
ing them in performance and in the shrine are expressions of the practice
of endowing the object with vital force. After such masks are carved, the
elders apply certain invisible substances, or “medicine.” The infusion of
substances possessing ase plus invocations activate the mask and ensure
efficacy.* The concentration of these substances in an object or at the
shrine or face (ojubo) of the deity constitutes that deity’s power or essence.
As explained to us, “She [the mother mask] cannot come out without
medicine. That is why they don’t like people to be near it.” The radiating
power of the medicine-is belteved-to_cause amenorrhea,a,infertility, insan-_/
ity, or blindness.” These same medicines allow herto serve as guardian of
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night vu

PLATE 26. A Great Mother mask concealed in cloth lies within

the shrine of the goddess Odua. Igbogila, 1978.

the community, warding off destructive forces, for “she is the nightwatch
for the town” (ti a fi $6 ilu). The drums accompanying this type of mask
invoke some of these essential materials to set them into action:

Chewing stick, come and dance

Rope from the forest, come and dance
Anthill, come and dance
Dust from the road, come and dance
Honored ancestor apake, come and dance

Oringbo, wa ka jo
Okun igho, wa ka jo
Bodipete, wa ka jo
Kukubole, wa ka jo
Olajogun apake, wa ka jo
[Collected in Ibaiyun, 1975]

Oringbo, okun igho, bodipete, and kukubole are among the substances
that activate the mask, and, like the expression zyami, which is used for
both mother and a woman with supernatural powers, may have double
meanings. The term kukubole, for example, may be translated as “come
 78 GELEDE
down join us,” and bodipete can mean, in addition to an anthill, “turn to
something easy,” whereas titled Gelede members confirm their more
esoteric connotations. Kukubole is dust taken from the road on which
people walk, an ingredient used in the preparation of Iyanla. Reportedly
it is also used by traders in medicinal preparations to draw customers to
their places of business."
Medicines invested in the mother masks are an essential part of the
image and determine, as much as any visible motifs, people’s ideas, at-
titudes, and reactions concerning the form. What is unseen, yet intellec-
tually and emotionally acknowledged by the spectators, must be
considered part of the work of art. In responding to questions about
different aspects of the mother mask, a carver and diviner from Pobe
said (Ogundipe 1975), “Yes, there is something else but I don’t know
what it is. . . .” Pointing to a closed container, he said, “Do you see this?
Can you tell me what is inside? We can only see the outside of Ososomu
[the Great Mother], but we cannot say anything about what is prepared
inside—except the elders. . . Ososomu is prepared with medicine.” The
mask’s relatively uncomplicated iconography and the invisible substances
are as effective in evoking a response as forms with accumulated visible
substances or complex imagery. Without medicine, the mask is simply
wood; with icine, it becomes prece piacle far (ieten eortNneN neat
Mother. So while one usually thinks of a performance or spectacle as
implying observation by an audience, for the Yoruba, spectacle means
both actual sights and mental images of ethereal entities. In this case the
spectators are purposely given very limited access to the image and may
in fact never see it, forcing them to imagine what the Great Mother really
looks like. One witness to a performance of a mother mask could only
describe “the great rush of people,” although he could hear the songs
and drums.
at has the greatest impact upon all present is what is not seen.)The
obstructed view, created by extinguishing all lights and forming an im-
penetrable circle of society elders around the masquerader, and con-
cealed medicine give the mask a special aura of power. The mother
mask’s awesome power resides in its unknowableness. Like women, as
perceived by men in Yoruba culture, the mother mask is secretive, and
like elderly women it is powerful.
A tuft of hair (ds) on some mother masks evokes the hidden dimen-
sion (pl. 20). An initiate who dedicates himself to a deity will have certain
substances rubbed into incisions on the top of his head to allow the deity
to “mount” his inner head or possess him (Verger 1954:394; 1957:71). A
tuft of hair is allowed to grow over the incisions to mark the place where
medicine has been inserted and to signify the bond between devotee and
deity. The tuft announces ritual commitment and endows the bearer with
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 79

the spiritual force of his deity. The Great Mother with a tuft of hair on
top of her head declares her position as archpriestess possessing spiritual
power. The tuft indicates the presence of medicine.
The full significance of the mother mask’s tuft emerges in her noc-
turnal performance. While the community hails her with songs, the
drummers offer one of her praise names, Apokodosu (A-pa-oko-di-osu),
meaning “the one who kills her husband in order to receive an osu,” or, in
other words, “in order to take a title,” the title being symbolized by the
tuft (osu). eS es ae
Mother masks are whitewashed." In the reakm of the “white deities”
(orisa funfun), whiteness is synonymous with outer‘composure (tutu) and WwW rai iS
covert action—two supremely feminine attributes. White may also sug-
gest the state of purity or cleanliness ascribed to elderly women past
menopause, for it is said that “Ososomu is clean. She doesn’t like any-
thing that is dirty. ... When women are passing blood, it is a bad thing.”
Yoruba males who regard menstrual blood as polluting explain that its
purpose is to “wash out all that has been happening between a man and a
woman.” More important, menses, which by definition contains ase, can
bring misfortune to a man (Prince 1961:798) and neutralize any medi-
cinal preparations. By the same token, the strength of the medicines
applied to mother masks “dry off” a young woman’s menstruation. Keep-
ing young girls and women at a distance from mother masks protects
them from her radiating powers.
The use of white cloth adds a further dimension to these themes. In
a shrine, cloth heightens the mystery of the mother’s face or conceals it
completely. At Iwoye, a sheer white curtain partially covers two mother
masks, softening the impact of the bold forms (pl. 22). At Ijio, the mother
mask is kept behind a curtain in the inner recesses of the shrine (Harper
1970:75). At the Gelede shrine at Isale Eko, Lagos, and at Igbogila,
Egbado (pl. 26), the mask is completely wrapped in a white cloth. Only
the general outline of rounded head and projecting board can be per-
ceived.
In performance, the costume of the dancer representing the mother is
a long white cloth attached to the wood mask. Sometimes more than eight
or ten yards in length, it is intended to trail along the ground behind the
masquerader, although sometimes it is held by attendants. The length of
the trailing garment implies both the generosity of the community and
the great age of the eternal mother. A comparable situation exists in
Egungun. Among Egbado Yoruba, masqueraders representing the col-
lective ancestors of various lineages, called Baba Parikoko, have enor-
mous trailing cloths, often described as being up to 100 yards long (cf.
Drewal and Drewal 1978:pl. 11). Before each yearly appearance of the
masqueraders, lineage members contribute money for cloth to lengthen
 80 GELEDE

the garment. Lineages compete to display the longest Baba Parikoko

because the/length attests to the seniority and status\of the father and to
the status atrd commitment of the descendants who paid for the cloth.
In contrast to the purchase of the Egungun cloth as an expression of
lineage allegiance, the mother’s cloth itself represents extralineal or com-
munal unity and cohesion. When the mother mask appears the commu-
nity sings:

The cloth of others is sweet to trail on the ground

Ososomu has none
The cloth of others is sweet to trail on the ground
Aso alaso din ighale
Ososomu ko ni kon
Aso alaso din igbale
[Collected in Iwoye, 1973]

The song reveals that the community takes care of its mother by provid-
ing her with clothes. Each member of the community is expected to make
a small contribution toward the purchase of the mother’s cloth, and each
year the community provides a new one as a gesture of renewed support.
It is common practice in Yoruba compounds for children to bathe and
clothe elderly women who have grown so old that they have lost the
physical strength to care for themselves. By contributing toward the pur-
chase of a new cloth, the community takes care of its ancestral mother
fulfilling its social and moral obligation. ‘This communal act is a sacrifice
and, in a sense, represents a visual prayer to “the mother of us all” that
has the combined force (ase) of individuals to maintain health, wealth,
and stability. A similar procedure of providing cloth occurs during
afternoon Gelede dances.
Scale is another significant feature of the mother mask. The suffix
nla in lyanla, meaning “big” or “great,” implies both physical size and
importance (Abraham 1958:444). Size in costuming reinforces notions of
social importance (H. J. Drewal 1979). The size of the head suggests
spiritual strength. Moulero (1970:47) describes the mother mask as the
“enormous mask” and gives the following song and translation:

Great god [Iyanla] a e! She has come

With her enormous head
Ososomu must not be late
It is pride that makes her do it
Orisa nla a e! O deo
On e Kpeketekpekete
Ossossom ki jegue
Ara lila V’o de
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 81

Size distinguishes the mother mask from the rest of the Gelede corpus
and suggests the mother’s awesome powers. The head man at Igbeme-Lle
described the mother masks he had seen at Isele and Pobe as “she is very
big” and “enormous.” A carver and priest of Ifa, Ogundipe (1975), re-
marked that when the mother mask comes out “the [young] women must
not see her because she is too huge (t6bi ju).” The scale of the mask
stresses the inner head, the source of women’s covert power. The promi-
nence of the forehead recalls descriptions of possession in which the head
“swells” (we) with the spiritual presence. This emphasis on size is an’
expression of awe forsomething that cannot be encompassed, a power ,
that is omnipotent.
Recurrent themes in the corpus of nocturnal mother masquerades
reveal the essence of Yoruba beliefs about mystical feminine powers.
Hoary age and whiteness pervade both performance and iconography.
The masquerades move in a slow, deliberate manner, often bent over.
Measured tread connotes pride, stature, patience, and endurance—the
attributes of elders. Icons like the beard, which evokes age, reinforce
mimed age. Such old age among women implies awesome spiritual pow-
ers derived from the termination of menstruation and the consumption
of the life blood (i.e., ase) of victims (cf. Prince 1961:798). Hoary age
commands both respect and fear. Whiteness, too, connotes post-
menopausal women and intensified force inherent in that state. Further-
more, whiteness conveys the coolness that characterizes covert power and
action as well as affirms ritual purity, calmness, and patience—soothing
feminine qualities.
Concealment is another dominant theme in the performance,
shrines, and iconography of bearded and bird mothers. Most striking is
that their ae a te
eee rene
what is seen. Spirit Bird with fearsome blood-red beak and Bearde
Mother-make one circuit through the market, surrounded by society
members, before disappearing in the dark. These nocturnal apparitions
emphasize secrecy and covertness, properties that characterize the life
force of women and their spiritual essence, or “inner head,” as well as the
more destructive potential of the mothers. In the shrine, the wrapped,
veiled, or guarded images sustain an aura of mystery. Through the
vested interest of the community, each member having contributed to the
purchase of their cloths, mother masks remain accessible but visually
restricted.
The austere quality of the masks enhances their visual power: outer
simplicity highlights inner presence. The extraordinary beard and
sharply pointed ears on a human head and the plaited hair style and
human ears on a bird head blur male and female, animal and human
categories. The depiction of liminal states of being can be threatening,
 82 GELEDE

for they defy ordinary worldly/supernatural categories as recognized by

the community. These images of the mothers are most appropriate, for
they express the reputed powers of transformation and stress the un-
knowable, undefinable potential of these powerful entities, “the ones of
two bodies,” who move freely between realms, unlike ordinary mortals.
This enigmatic quality of the mothers gives them great importance in
Yoruba society, and their nature demands a cautious, calm, and patient
approach on the part of supplicants. The brief appearance of the mother
masquerade reminds the community of the awesome powers they must
assuage, but it also signals the mothers’ approval and their sanction of the
spectacle to come—the singing masquerades.

Singing Masquerades
The Attendants
Just as preliminary masquerades prepare the way for the appearance
of the sacred mothers, masked attendants sing and dance to herald the
impending arrival of the principal performer, Oro Efe. Important per-
sonages in Yoruba society rarely appear in public without their support-
ers, and Oro Efe is no exception, especially since his performance is a
dangerous mission that requires proper procedures and propitiations to
ensure his safety and the successful completion of his ritual task. In many
areas, a Companion singing masquerader immediately precedes Oro Efe.
These maskers, considered to be his subordinates, take different forms.

firstborn of twins if female. As the junior, she comes to test the world for
her brother (Moulero 1971). Others explain Tetede as the “wife” of Oro
Efe, who represents “the most beautiful woman who pleases the witches”
(Harper 1970:78). In one town, this masker is referred to as “Cool
World” (Aiye Tutu), for her presence soothes, cools, and placates the
varlous powers present in the assembled community, thus making it safe
for Oro Efe to appear. Tetede headdresses—similar to some afternoon
Gelede masks representing females with elaborate head ties—are usually
surmounted by a tray, bowl, or other container (pls. 4, 27-29). Their
white or yellow painted faces distinguish them as night masqueraders.
The theme of the sacrificial offerings is suggested by the shape and
decoration of the receptacles balanced on the head; in plates 4, 27, and
28, gin bottles—the contents of which are either sprayed on shrines to
“alert” the gods or poured as libations—flank large cylindrical containers.
On some masks, the container lids are in the form of birds (pl. 29). One
unusual mask, possibly a Tetede because of its swirling head wrap and
white visage (pl. 30), is surmounted by an agbe plant. A snake devouring
prey curls around the bush, while birds peck at the head tie.
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night

PLATE 27. Tetede balances on her

head the gin bottles and containers
used in ritual. Art Museum,
University of Ife.

PLATE 28. Above her swirling head

tie, Tetede carries ritual items. Art
Museum, University of Ife.
 84 GELED a

PLATE 29. Birds cover the

containers on Tetede’s head.
Igbogila, 1978.

PLATE 30. At the top of an agbe

tree, crowning the head of Tetede,
a snake devours its prey while
birds peck at a swirling head tie.
Musée Ethnographique, Porto
Novo (55.3-36).
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 85

Tetede-type masqueraders found in Ketu and contiguous areas wear

costumes that contain elements found in most Efe and Gelede cos-
tumes—leggings, arm wraps, iron leg rattles, and whisks—but other ele-
ments provide decidedly feminine attributes. Several head wraps tied
tightly around the performer’s torso give the impression of a narrow
bodice, a typical feature of Ketu style female Gelede (pl. 4). A wooden
construction of sticks or a cylindrical spool is tied at the waist and covered
by a long wrapper (iré) to simulate substantial hips and buttocks. Often a
carved breastplate, tied above the narrow bodice and draped with head
wraps or a cloth panel, thrusts forward. A transcendent image is pro-
duced by a form that exaggerates female features, the rich profusion of
cloth, and the elaborately carved headdresses, whose white or pastel fea-
tures float dramatically in the darkness.
In the Egbado town of Ilaro, Oro Efe is preceded by a singing male
masquerader named Ajakuena. He wears a broad tray mask with a face in
the center (pl. 31). A long sheer cloth covers his upper body and face, and
strands of beads, palm nuts, cowrie shells, and/or mirrors dangle from
the rim of the tray. The costume also includes leggings, leg rattles, and a
long-sleeved man’s gown of handwoven, narrow-band fabric tied at the
waist with a woman’s head tie.
These singing attendants may vary in their form and identity but not
in their role. As the name of one such masquerader suggests, Aiye Tutu
(“Cool World”)—whether seen as wife or sister, brother or companion—
their purpose is to prepare the way and make safe or “cool” a world in
which Oro Efe must perform his courageous and dangerous task in the
midst of potentially destructive forces.

Male Oro Efe Masquerades

Singing male masquerades are central to the Efe ceremony, not only
because their songs are featured and carry force but also because they are
visually enhanced by rich masks and costumes and by the elaborate pro-
gram of masquerades, described above, that introduce them. These sing-
ing masquerades, known variously as Oro Efe, Elefe, or Apasa in
different areas, convey masculine images of physical and spiritual power,
status, and sacred leadership. Through their headdresses, costumes, and
movements they also reflect the historical and cultural influence of Islam.
Less obvious yet ever present are oblique references to the omnipotent
mothers.
Singing masquerades among Ketu people are among the most or-
nate of all Efe with their huge, elaborate costumes and intricately carved
masks. Oro Efe’s headdress is often composed of three parts (frontis-
piece, color plates 2, 3, and pls. 5, 32-35): the suspended cloth or veil, the
main head or face, and the superstructure. The veil, made of cloth or
PLATE 31. Donning a circular platform headdress with a male
head in the center and cowries, mirrors, and palm nuts
suspended from its perimeter, the singing masquerader,
Ajakuena, prepares the way for Oro Efe. Ilaro, 1978.
The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 87

PLATE 32. The side view of an Oro

Efe headdress illustrates
woodpeckers, turban wraps, a
leopard, and a snake flanked by
long cutlasses in leather sheaths. A
crescent moon crowns the white
brow. Ketu, 1971.

PLATE 33. A Ketu Oro Efe

headdress displays typical motifs
arranged in a different fashion
from those in plate 32, e.g., the
arched snake substitutes for the
crescent moon. Bernisches
Historisches Museum
(CO.68.325.2).
PLATE 34. A mongoose and birds
seize a snake above Oro Efe’s head.
Musée Ethnographique, Porto
Novo (55.9.2).

PLATE 35. Rectangular amulets

and a mongoose crown Oro Efe’s
head. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(59.33-106).
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 89

other materials, obscures the face while allowing the wearer to see. The
main head portrays a human face rendered in stark, cool white. Clear,
sculpted facial features, especially the pierced eyes and the mouth, are
given further definition by the use of dark colors set off against the white
face. The superstructure, in contrast to the simplicity of the main head, is
a complex composition of curving, spiraling masses and spaces in several
layers. The curving, circulating forms of pythons, crescent moon, and
turban wraps (/dwané) are juxtaposed with sharply defined vertical cutlass
sheaths, which hang at the sides (frontispiece, color plates 2, 3, pls. 32—
33). At the back is a sculpted rendering of a leather panel with an inter-
lace motif (color plate 3). In front, a white crescent moon often crowns
the brow of the face. Animal motifs—lion, leopard, snake, mongoose—
occasionally command the summit of the superstructure, but more fre-
quently birds perch on top. Blue, yellow, green, and especially red
highlight surface patterning and offer a contrast to the whiteness of the
main head (frontispiece, color plate 2).
This profusion of imagery proclaims both physical and spiritual at-_
tributes pointing to a number of themes—masculine strength and cour- PPE
age; royalty; the supernatural powers of the Yoruba god of iron and war, | ~

gun; the presence of Islam; and theomnipresence of the mothers. The

cutlass sheaths suspended from the superstructure suggest masculine
JE
prerogatives, especially those of hunters and warriors. These images also
connote a spiritual dimension. One of the three major deities worshipped
at Ketu Gelede ceremonies is Ogun, the tutelary deity of hunters and the
god of iron and war, whose primary symbols are implements of iron,
especially cutlasses. Hunters play a central role in many Gelede societies.
They serve as guardians and supporters for the masqueraders and as
crowd controllers during the performance. There are many references to
Ogun in the opening masquerades of Efe night and in Oro Efe’s opening
incantations."
The crescent moon (0stpd) may also refer to supernatural powers.
One Ketu Oro Efe (Ogundipe 1971) explained that the moon and the
turban wraps in his own headdress identify him as a Muslim (pl. 32)"
The same probably applies in another mask in which the crescent moon
becomes a row of Muslim amulets (pl. 35).'* According to another Oro
Efe performer, the moon “allows everyone to see clearly and enjoy.” This
comment recalls the Yoruba saying that “the moon over Oyo helps the
Alaafin [king] to know what is going on in the provinces” (Crowther
1852:225). The monarch, his all-seeing powers symbolized by the moon,
knows and exposes all sorts of plots, scandals, or disorders within his
realm, just as Oro Efe does in the course of his performance. The moon
is also a reference to the time of the ceremony and the tradition of a vigil,
which sets the spectacle apart from everyday activities. It is a time most
 go GELEDE

appropriate for appealing to the elderly women and other spirits, who
are most attentive during the hours of darkness. But whether the cres-
cent moon or a row of Muslim amulets crowns Oro Efe’s brow, it com-
municates the powers he possesses to perform his task successfully.
Perched at the top of many Efe masks is the supreme symbol of
spiritual power, the bird of the mothers. On one the bird’s long white
beak grasps a scorpion. Our inquiries evoked a rhetorical question, “Can
a bird take a scorpion in its mouth?” implying the answer “No.” Only a
bird of supernatural power, the bird of the mothers, can perform such a
feat. In other Ketu Oro Efe masks (pl. 32), the birds are identified as grey
woodpeckers (akoko), which are associated with the mothers, as in the
following verse sung by a night masquerader (Beier 1958:10):

All powerful mother, mother of the night bird... .

My mother kills quickly without a cry
To prick our memory suddenly
Quickly as woodpecker pecks the tree on the farm
The woodpecker who hammers the tree while words rush forth from
his mouth. ...

The woodpecker on top of Efe masks alludes to Oro Efe’s role as spokes-
man for the mothers and for society, when “words rush forth from his
mouth.”
The birds at the top, together with the masker’s cloth veil and carved
face, recall major iconic elements of Yoruba crowns (cf. Thompson
1970:10) and may be references to the royalty and sacred leadership of
Oro Efe. In one performance he calls himself the “masquerade of the
king” (egun oba), and in another he asserts, “I have become the King of
Efe; all youths prostrate yourselves before me.” To these royal references
can be added the whisks (irwkéré) held in his hands, which are the ac-
coutrements of elders, chiefs, and kings (frontispiece, color plate 2, pl. 5).
Finally, by putting on Oro Efe’s headdress, zyalase mirrors the crowning
of a new king by an elderly female official in the palace (cf. H. J. Drewal
1977b:12). These parallels in iconography and ritual procedure rein-
force the themes of royalty and sacred leadership in relationship to the
mothers.
Another headdress (pls. 34, 35) portrays a mongoose and birds seiz-
ing a snake or snakes. The mongoose, renowned for its quickness and
cunning in capturing snakes, is an appropriate metaphor for the courage
and cleverness of Oro Efe, who “catches” and exposes wrongdoers dur-
ing his nocturnal performance. The encircling bands with decorated rec-
tangular projections appear to be references to belts or turban wraps with
Islamic amulets, which are protective devices for the courageous Oro
Efe. id
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night gl

Among Qhori Ketu people, Oro Efe imagery is slightly different.

Multiple knives and two felines (leopards?) devouring another animal
surmount a bearded face (pl. 36). In another, snakes with birds in their
mouths loop at the sides (pl. 37). Strands of beads and coins dangle from
a horizontal bar over the main face in imitation of beaded veils worn by
kings and important priests in this area. Two other features are more
striking: the face is bearded, and the hovering form at the apex of the
headdress, usually a bird, assumes another flying form, a four-engine
airplane! In a further development (pl. 38) the beard fans outward and
two bladelike ears rise dramatically above the head. The crescent moon
of the Ketu Oro Efe reappears but in reversed position, and airplanes,
instead of snakes and birds, flank the face. Despite the substitution of
motifs, certain themes persist: aggressive action (devouring motifs),
male-associated implements and references to the god of iron and war
(cutlasses, guns), sacred leadership (leopard, beaded veil), the mothers in
transformed state (birds/airplanes), and Islamic references (moon, belt,
leather sheaths, and amulets).
Many of the themes evident in Ketu area Oro Efe headdresses are
amplified in the costume. The expansion of the chest and torso by means
of bamboo hoops or layers of cloth amplifies the grandeur, importance,
and stature of the wearer as it intensifies his physical presence (frontis-
piece, color plates 2, 3, pl. 5). Elaborate embroidered and appliqued
panels (gberi, apa) display a profusion of motifs. Although the most exten-
sive use of such panels occurs in Oro Efe’s ensemble, they also can form
part of the costuming of daytime male and occasionally female Gelede
(cf. color plate 5). Decorative motifs include crosses, stars, chevrons,
lozenges, diamonds, circles, and squares consisting of triangular seg-
ments of contrasting colors, opposed spiraling motifs interspersed with
diamonds and triangles, interlace patterns, vertical stripes set within a
rectangle, and mirrors—circular and rectangular—set into the fabric, all
of which are surrounded by a straight or, more often, a sawtooth border
fringe (frontispiece, color plates 2, 3, pl. 5). In addition to these
geometric patterns, a number of representational images appear:
crocodiles, tortoises, and human faces. For example, the Oro Efe in the
frontispiece has a reptile embroidered on his vest. While colors are
variegated, red seems to dominate the background as well as the fringes
and some of the figures.
The source of such finely worked panels is uncertain, but an analysis
of technique, composition, and iconography suggests some intriguing
possibilities. Many of the appliquéd patterns, especially the representa-
tional ones, have close parallels with appliqué work in the contiguous
areas of the Fon to the west of Ketu. In both, light colored silhouetted
figures float against a dark background (cf. Harper 1970:49-52). Even
 GELEDE

PLATE 36. In this headdress,

multiple knives lank Oro Efe’s
face, and two felines attack a third
animal. Ajilete, 1978.

PLATE 37. Strands of beads and

coins veil the face, snakes hold
birds, and a four-engine airplane
flies overhead in this Oro Efe
headdress. Obele, 1975.
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 93

PLATE 38. An Oro Efe headdress with bladelike ears, beard, and
pipe also displays a crescent moon and two airplanes at the sides.
Igbeme-Ile, 1975.

more striking are the visual similarities between some curvilinear motifs
and Adinkra cloth symbols from Ghana (cf. Quarcoo 1972:32, 46). It
seems likely that such similarities may be traced to a common source,
Islamic decorative arts. Quarcoo (1972:6) states that “some of the
{Adinkra] symbols are stylized forms of talismans believed to have Mos-
lem associations.” This is certainly possible since there was a strong Mus-
lim presence in Kumasi by the eighteenth century or earlier (Wilkes
1961:14). Muslim influence is evident in some important Asante regalia,
including one worn by the Asantehene during enstoolment and others
worn by Asante warriors, as illustrated by Dupuis in 1820 (cf. Lamb
1975:144—-146).
Islamic artistic influence is also evident in Yorubaland. The style of
Yoruba garments and of much of the embroidery is based on Muslim,
 94 GELEDE

more specifically Hausa, Nupe, and Bariba, modes (cf. Johnson 1973
[1921]:110-113; Adamu 1978:124-125). The curvilinear or diamond-
shaped interlace pattern, chevrons (color plates 2, 3), “the Muslim knot,”
double spirals (color plate 3 and pl. 5), and circles are primary motifs in
these masquerade panels, but some of the closest parallels come in Hausa
calligraphy, embroidered clothing, and appliquéd and embroidered
horse trappings (Heathcote 1976:pls. 9, 13, 14, 81, 87). Calligraphy
drawn on gowns, primarily excerpts from Koranic prayers, serves as both
decoration and protection on “charm” garments, one of which was seen
in Yoruba country in 1825 by Clapperton. Writing before 1820, John
McLeod (1820:93-95) reported that Muslim artisans at Abomey were
Wwesodes od: oe carried ey them scraps or sentences ofthe Koran,

aan of ae near their doors as chai charms against witchcraft.” ~ Trans-

- formed Arabic symbols as ‘charms against “witchcraft” appliquéd or em-
broidered on costumes is entirely plausible, particularly for Gelede. The
same motifs may be observed in horse trappings, which had a long his-
tory in Hausa as well as in Yoruba country (cf. Clapperton 1829:2).
Another striking feature of horse trappings found in both areas is the
sawtooth border (Heathcote 1976:pl. 9), which is present in masquerade
costumes throughout western Yorubaland, not only in Gelede but in
Egungun (cf. Drewal and Drewal 1978:pls. 1, 2, 3).
Northern, Islamic-inspired decorative motifs that filtered into
Yoruba country via Hausa, Nupe, and Bariba are an important part of
Efe costuming and to a lesser extent of Gelede, especially in the Ketu
area. Muslims have been recorded in the city of Ketu from about 1750.
By 1790 they had swelled Masafe Quarter and were important in the
defense of the town (Parrinder 1967:41), and they were documented as
far south as Whydah and Abomey in the early eighteenth century (cf.
Labat 1730; Snelgrave 1734:80; Adamu 1978:113-114). In addition to
being traders, many Muslims would have been the craftsmen supplying
woven, embroidered and appliquéd material. Muslim references abound
in the Ketu Org Efe headdress as well as in Gelede masks generally: the
crescent moon, turban wraps, representations of leather sheaths and
panels, and interlace patterns. It seems likely that as the northern peoples
became more entrenched in Ketu and neighboring areas and as Yoruba
converted to Islam, these elements were incorporated into Gelede, espe-
cially since conversion to Islam did not prevent participation in the soci-
ety’s activities. In fact, given the role of Muslim militia in the defense of
Ketu and the involvement of hunters/warriors (the followers of Ogun) in
the Gelede cult, the synthesis of Ogun and Muslim motifs in the Oro Efe
masquerade seems quite logical. The predominance of the color red also
supports this inference. Red is one of the colors associated with warriors
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 95

and Ogun, and at Ketu a padded red jerkin used by hunters is worn
under the appliquéd panels donned by Oro Efe. The leg rattles worn by
all singing male masquerades also refer to Ogun. They are said to protect
Org Efe by providing sounds that scatter negative forces, just as his voice
effects blessings and curses.'* Rattles made of iron effectively invoke
Ogun, for it is said that Ogun himself is iron.
In performance, Oro Efe paces back and forth at a slow and
dignified tempo, terminating each line with a turn that causes his panels
to flutter outward. The image of “flying” panels seems most appropriate,
for the panels are known as “wings” (apa), and the padded jerkin with
open sides is known as dgbe akalangba, a name derived from two species of
birds with brilliant “puffed-up plumage” (Abraham 1958:27, 56; Harper
1970:78, 93). Such bird attributes are additional references to Oro Efe’s
role as the representative of the spiritually powerful women, “the owners
of birds.”
Serving the same function as Oro Efe among the Ketu Yoruba, but
different in both mask and costume style, are the Ohori Yoruba singing
masquerades known as apasa (pls. 39-43). The apasa performers’ masks
have broad, often striped, carved beards, which fan outward along the
jawline, and long, earlike forms or blades projecting upward at the sides,
usually painted with horizontal stripes or chevrons. These vertical projec-
tions are called either ears (ett) or cutlasses (ada), which they more often
resemble. Playing upon persistent hunter/Ogun references, some apasa
have guns attached to the blade/ears (pl. 42), and others have knives on
an amulet-clad belt (pl. 43). In the latter example, reptiles surmount
doubled ears, and the bearded face becomes two. Another shows a
hunter and worshipper of Ogun with a knife in one hand and a gun in
the other (pl. 166). Note the tall blade/ear forms called cutlasses and the
broad but short beard. So while the form of the Ohori night masks is
dramatically different from the Ketu type, some of the same themes
persist, namely masculinity, hunters, warriors, and Ogun.
Ohori costuming is completely different from Ketu styles. Almost all
Ohori Efe costumes consist of palm fiber attached to the rim of the
headdress to cover the head and upper torso of the masquerader, in
contrast to the cloth panels of Ketu. Palm fronds are the “clothes” of
Ogun, and their presence reinforces the Ogun references in the
headdress. Thus attired, the performers sing Efe songs throughout the
night.
Certain Egbado and Awori Oro Efe headdresses and costumes ex-
hibit quite another style (pl. 44 and cf. Thompson 1978). In fact, the style
duplicates that of the singing attendant who introduces them (pl. 31).
Like their companion, they wear a headdress in the form of a large
circular tray known as ate Efe, which is perforated or painted in triangu-
 PLATE 39. A broad, striped beard
and long ears characterize the
Ohori apasa mask. William and
Robert Arnett Collection.
Photograph by Gerald Jones.

PLATE 40. The apasa’s broad beard

fans out, and bladelike ears tower
above the head. Hammer
Collection. Photograph by Jeffrey
Hammer.
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 97

PLATE 41. Bladelike ears and a

beard dominate the small head in
this apasa headdress. Photograph
by Howard Wildman, Isagba,
1971.

PLATE 42. The bladelike ears and

the beard (broken) serve to
support the guns, which cross over
the apasa’s white face. Iwoye, 1971.
 GELEDE

PLATE 43. A double-faced apasa is

surmounted by a belt decorated
with amulets and knives. It
encircles the blade-shaped ears
topped by reptiles. Iwoye, 1971.

lar segments and has at the center a man’s head with peaked cap
(labankdda) carved in high relief. Strands of beads, palm nuts, cowrie
shells, and mirrors dangle from the perimeter of the tray. Cloth also 1s
attached around the circumference, and a thin lace or gauzelike fabric in
front covers the face but allows the performer to see. The costume con-
sists of leggings, leg rattles, and a long-sleeved man’s gown made of
narrow strips of fabric tied at the waist by a single woman’s head tie. He
wears white gloves as he clutches large horsetail whisks.
Paralleling this type, yet in many ways different, is the Efe at Isale
Eko, Lagos (pl. 45). The head, painted a brilliant white, is offset by the
eyebrows, eyes, scarification marks, and especially the gaping mouth, all
painted black. The head 1s covered with an unusual cap painted in a black
and white checkerboard pattern with shiny metal disks in the white
squares. Over the head is a circular form called dkdta, painted white on
the bottom and with a black-and-white pinwheel design on the top that
may represent an umbrella. Medicinal camwood blades and shiny metal
disks, like those attached to the cap, dangle around its edge, and two
metal braces, vaguely reminiscent of birds, intersect at its center. In per-
The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 99

y
j

which cowrie shells, palm nuts, mirrors, and beads dangle. Ilaro,
1978.
 SDE
100 GELEDE

PLATE 45. Shiny metal disks and camwood blades hang from a
moving circular platform that surmounts the white-faced
headdress of Oro Efe. Lagos, 1981.
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 101

formance, the gkata spins and produces a dramatic optical effect not
unlike the‘‘constantly whirling umbrella” (akata, gbiri, gbiri, gbiri) of a
king in procession (Abiodun 1982).
The Lagos Efe costume combines elements seen elsewhere. As in
Ohori country, raffia fiber tied around the rim of the mask covers the
performer's face. His upper torso is clothed in a large, loose-fitting gar-
ment of woven strip cloth. The rest of the costume consists of a rich and
voluminous wrapper. Two large flywhisks and multiple leg rattles com-
plete the ensemble.
The circular headpieces of the Egbado, Awori, and Lagos people are
somewhat related in form to Efe in Abeokuta and other northern Egbado
communities just to the west. At Abeokuta, the Efe headdress called akata
depicts a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat (pl. 46). The entire headdress
is white, and, like its counterpart in Awori and Lagos, it has a raffia fringe
on the rim. A long white gown covers the body of the performer. He and
his companions sit atop a roof to sing, like the birds of the mothers.
In some northern Egbado towns contiguous with Abeokuta, the
carved headdress of Efe disappears, yet the shape of the head covering
and costuming persists, as does his position on a roof. An actual wide-
brimmed woven hat (aketé) painted white replaces the mask, and the face
of the singer is visible. He wears a full white gown, and his only other
regalia is a large square, woven fan used to baffle his voice as he sings
from the rooftop. 2
Despite the variations in the form and iconography of these singing >
male masquerades, certain themes recur in almost all of them. One of the
most dominant is masculinity, expressed in overtly aggressive action,
physical strength, and courage projected in the persistent images of \
hunters, warriors, and references to Ogun: beards, guns, knives, cut-
lasses, amulets, palm fronds, and iron legr
rattles.ihe €olor_red> princi-
pally See area Oro . Efe, connotes heat and masculine; aggressiveness
and reinforces warrior/Ogun themes. Added to these are references to
the sacred leadership of kings, chiefs, and priests: interlace patterns,
leopards, veils of beads, shells, medicines, umbrellas, and whisks. These
hallmarks of authority unite with the largeness of his costume, his
dignified movements, and the songs referring to his elevated status io
proclaim Oro Efe monarch of the night.
But as with all Yoruba monarchs, Oro Efe commands only with the
consent of the mothers, whose omnipresence 1s acknowledged visually in
a number of ways. One is the use of the color white, not only for its
dramatic visual effect in a nocturnal rite but also for its symbolic connota-
tions. In a myth describing the origin of Efe (Moulero 1970), kaolin
(chalk) was used to make the mask visible in the darkness. White contrasts
with and sets off the eyes, face marks, and especially the mouth of the
 102 GELEDE

PLATE 46. Oro Efe (right) and his singing partner are seated on
the roof of a stall in the market. Oro Efe’s white wooden
headdress depicts a head with a wide-brimmed hat; his partner’s
has a cap. Abeokuta, 1978.

singer, providing visual focus for the source of the “voiced power” of Efe.
When extended to the costuming as well, whiteness gives shape and
distinctness to the performer as it separates him from both the obscurity
of night and the assembled crowd. But even more, white symbolically
relates the performer to the “white” deities (orisa funfun), who are covert
and cool in their demeanor. They are primarily the goddesses, their
priestesses, and the spiritually powerful women, “the gods of society,” for
whom Oro Efe acts as spokesman. These singing male masqueraders
thus balance the red hot heat and overt action of warriors and Ogun with
the cool, covert, patient approach of the mothers. The singers call upon
them for support and guidance as they bravely praise and condemn the
actions of the “children” of the mothers.
The mirrors in some Oro Efe ensembles may have'connotations akin
to those of the color white. As Oro Efe moves about in darkness, the
mirrors reflect light of candles and lanterns to produce a momentary
brightness, as does the white of the headdress. The mirrors may have
 The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night 103

another function, for in a sense Oro Efe holds up a mirror to society as he

reveals the foibles of the gathered citizenry.
A most direct reference to the powerful mothers occurs in the im-
ages of birds or other flying creatures, such as airplanes, as well as in
other nocturnal creatures. More indirect references are Oro Efe’s
“wings” or “puffed-up plumage,” i.e., his flapping panels. The appear-
ance of the mother masquerade and her male missive, Oro Efe, sym-
bolizes the contrasts in female and male power. The mothers sanction
Oro Efe to comment on society; his words take effect. This relationship
between female and male power parallels concepts about spiritually pow-
erful women and men in Yoruba society, known as aje and oso respec-
tively. Yoruba say that the mothers (qe) conceive a plan and their male
counterparts (oso) carry it out. This concept of power, i.e., women as the
covert initiators of ascheme and men as the actors, applies not only to Efe
performance but also to Gelede, where the males are the masqueraders
but the elderly women are the source of their power.

Closing Masquerades
Just as introductory masqueraders bring the festival into the world,
other masqueraders mark the conclusion of Efe night and the transition
from the nighttime to the afternoon segment of the performance. The
conclusion of Efe night in Ketu, Anago, and northern Egbado areas is
marked by the appearance of a distinct kind of masquerader, a towering
stilt dancer dressed in cloth, voluminous raffia, and a carved headdress in
the form of a hyena, termed koriko, ikoko, or ayoko (Beier 1958:14; Huet
1978:pl. 85; Bernolles 1973:23). He holds long wooden staffs in both
hands, using them for balance and for menacing gestures that comple-
ment his gaping, teeth-filled jaws. A hyena mask, carved by the master
Omigbaro of Kesan-Orile about 1944 (pl. 6), admirably expresses the
humorous ferocity that is the hallmark of hyena’s performance. The
chief of Kesan playfully remarked, “It used to kill people; don’t you see
his teeth?” (Oguntade 1971).
Elsewhere, hyena may bejoined or replaced by another mask similar
in concept to some introductory masquerades, those representing
Esu/Elegba. In the Ketu vicinity, a mask representing Esu/Elegba arrives
to conclude Efe night; his headdress is covered with magical gourds
(Moulero 1970:61). The Esu masquerader who closes Efe night in Ilaro,
Egbado, is known as Esu Gbangbade. The mask depicts a head with tufts
of hair (osu) and magical gourds (dadé), similar to the Ketu headdress
described by Thomas Moulero. Esu Gbangbade is said to “chase Org Efe
from the market,” thus marking the end of the ceremony.
Whether animal or god of the crossroads, Esu/Elegba, these closing
 104 GELEDE

masquerades communicate a transition: from the concerns of society

expressed by Oro Efe to the reassertion of forest beings and supernatural
creatures as representatives of the realms beyond human society. Just as
the introductory performers brought the spectacle into the world, these
closing masquerades mark the conclusion of Efe and the transition from
night to day, from verbal to nonverbal commentary, for, like the words of
Efe, the dances and masquerades of Gelede—which commence late on
the following afternoon—evaluate society in their own way.
 The Dance:
Texturing Time and Space

In contrast to “doing” Efe (a nse Efe), people say, “we dance Gelede’” (a j6
Gelédé). Thus dance is an essential medium of the afternoon spectacle.
Gelede dance is stylistically distinct from other Yoruba dances, and it
demands, like many others, specialized knowledge and many years of
training and experience. With great energy, and embellished by masks
and costumes that amplify and define social roles and physical attributes,
the masked male dancers of Gelede project transcendent images of males
and females, attesting to their distinct characters and behaviors. But if
voicing words evokes or, more accurately, invokes vital force, bringing it
into actual existence, then what are the implications for dance, or what
Suzanne Langer (1953:175, 187) calls the illusion of “virtual power”?
Dance makes vital force visible. Carried further—into the Yoruba con-
text—dance is virtual power and is no less instrumental than the spoken
word; it brings dynamic qualities into actual existence. Thus Gelede also
has effect, the power of ase.

The Dancer

Children in Gelede families inherit the authority to perform, but the

ultimate decision to become a Gelede dancer depends on personal inter-
est and talent. Those who do not inherit the right to perform Gelede may
participate as a result of the prescriptions of a diviner, who determines
that in order for the individual to lead an unproblematic, productive life
he should honor “the mothers” by dancing Gelede. As a dancer told Ulli
Beier (1958:5), “Gelede is ‘the secret of women.’ We the men are merely
their slaves. We dance to appease ‘our mothers.’” Ordinarily outsiders
would not begin to dance in Gelede performances until their teens or
twenties, but if a diviner prescribed Gelede to cure impotency or infertil-

105
 106 GELEDE

ity, a firstborn child might be obliged to become a Gelede dancer at a

younger age.
‘pe N S But no matter why a man becomes a Gelede dancer—as a result of

inheritance, divination, or special _talent—the learning process is the

FAN VayMeme.
pNces
nasters rather than receiving verbal in-
It involves emul: iting the masters
struction. With regular, sustained exposure to performances, a young
child can assimilate Gelede dance technique, structure, and drum
phrases and, by learning to mark simple drum patterns with his feet, can
begin to perform Gelede by the : wee (pl. 48). With experience,
the child becomes more adeyp ~In some areas, 8uch as Pobe, Lagos, and
Ketu, intensive dance sessions are conducted to discipline the dancers
and to develop and refine their technique and knowledge of rhythmic
patterns. According to a resident of the town of Pobe, who belongs to a
group of six Gelede dancers, the dance master conducts training sessions
and decides what steps are to be learned and, thus, what drum rhythms
are to be played. Every other night from about 8 to 9:30, for several
months before the Gelede festival, rehearsals are held in the privacy of an
enclosed compound. The dancers line up, two-by-two, in three lines, the
least experienced dancers in front and the most advanced in the rear.
When the group learns new steps, the master demonstrates in front;
then, he goes to the back and “taps the rhythm vocally. Everyone learns it
[the rhythm]. Everyone must know the drum in his mind (okan)” (Aibiro
1973).' When the group 1s prepared to dance, the master calls in another
elder in the society to watch a rehearsal. “If it [the dancing] is not good,
he will tell us... to do a certain gesture in this part of the dance; then, it
will succeed.”
Most dance 1 tures
the stepping style and rhy fies yo Beenie and cnet their elders
informally. As the drums play during interludes in the performance,
parents dance with their children, or children on their own dance along
to the music. Often young children from Gelede families will be taken to
the performance in costume to masquerade as a masquerader (pls. 47,
48). Whether their costuming is complete or not, the children are en-
couraged to dance and are rewarded with small change and cheers by
spectators.
Older, more accomplished child dancers wear more complete cos-
tumes (pls. 49, 50). Usually they are followed closely by an adult male
from their lineage who sees to it that they follow the rhythm of the drums
and accent the proper beats. In addition, he informs the drummers what
rhythmic sequences to play. With preteens, the coach is not so visible, and
the audience becomes less tolerant and more likely to scoff at an obvious
error. The coach watches from the side but does not hesitate to rush
forward to correct a mistake or scold his dancers, putting them back on
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 107

WN

a
ve
UU
De Nias
om

PLATE 47. A neophyte Gelede dancer, wearing only an old,

incomplete mask and a long cloth that reaches below his knees,
masquerades as a masquerader. Ilaro, 1978.
PLATE 48. A young Gelede dancer performs wearing bottle caps
in place of ankle rattles to mark the drum rhythms. Ilaro, 1977.
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 109

Ke
ow

PLATE 49. Carrying the iron anklets in his hands, a Gelede

performer moves toward the drums under the supervision of his
coach. Ilaro, 1978.
110 Tac: e)

PLATE 50. Using a metaphor from the world of animals, this

headdress of a plump porcupine eating corn relates thematically
to a drummed text in which a porcupine is criticized for
selfishness and gluttony. Sawonjo, 1978.
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 111

the right track. Thus, spectacle itself also functions asa training session
for novices in Yoruba society. Regardless of the approach to instruction,
whether structured or informal, in almost all cases dance sequences are
prearranged with the drummers.

The Music

Among the Yoruba, ene is ucepares from drumming. In fact,

his stepping to the staccatoAAAS Asa {eae articulate Gelede

patron explained to Robert F. Thompson (1974a:254),

Drums tell the dancer what to do; if he dances with the drummer
exactly, he is called aiyejo, the finest dancer. An alaiye mojo [is] someone
who does not know how to obey the drums. The ankle rattles of iron
the dancers wear must make the same sound as the drum. If he makes a
mistake it will be audible. . . The dancer has to end the phrase exactly
when the senior drum ends it. They must balance (dogba). A thousand
dresses, it does not matter, if you compromise the drum speech you
are not a good dancer!

The dancer may perform relatively simple rhythms as long as he is

working up to his capacity, but however difficult or complicated the
rhythmical patterns he selects, he must perform them correctly. In this
way, Gelede dance, like the entire spectacle, is synonymous with sacrifice.
In making a sacrifice, one is expected to give whatever is within one’s
capacity at that time, but the sacrifice, however small, must be performed
correctly.
A Gelede drum ensemble 1s composed of two large cylindrical drums
approximately three to four feet high and one to three smaller cylindrical
drums about two feet high (pl. 51). he three smaller drums, the omele
ako or male omele, initiate the drumming and provide a constant, underly-
ing rhythmical structure. A young trainee in the drummers’ lineage often
plays one of the smaller drums, using sticks. The lead drum, the zyalu or
mother drum, and the second large drum, the omele abo or female omele,
work together to weave irregular rhythms over the underlying patterns.
By placing tar on the drumheads, the drummers can control their
pitch. The tyalw and omele abo can thus approximate the pitch patterns of
BML Kiis
spoken Yoruba, which is itself tonal, and the drumming can reproduce
aphorisms and praise phrases both tonally and rhythmically. Woven on
top of the baseline beat, these phrases constitute a drum language, which
in the context of Gelede is known as eka, a free, linguistically based
rhythm that floats over the basic structure and dictates the rhythm of the
 PLATE 51. The Gelede drum ensemble is composed of two lead
drums supported by one to three small drums. Iaro, 1977.

dance steps. Similar structuring can be observed in certain handwoven

Yoruba textiles in which free-floating designs are superimposed on the
basic weave. The Yoruba term for these floating phrases, eka, means
literally “enumeration” (CMS 1937:75), but in the Gelede context it is,
more specifically, a drummed aphorism or poem to which the dancers
must respond rhythmically. Dancers speak of “counting eka” (nka eka),
but they do not mean that they enumerate beats in any literal sense.
Rather, when dancing, they are in synchrony with the drum rhythms. For
each beat of the eka, there is a simultaneous step.
Since eka derive from Yoruba aphorisms and praise poems, they
possess characteristics of poetry—rhythm, phonetic form, repetition, and
intonation:

We asked him to go to the farm, he didn’t go to the farm

We asked him to go to the river, he didn’t go to the river
We asked him to become a fish, he didn’t become a fish
We asked him to become a crab, he didn’t become a crab
Words will never make you into a crab [if] you are d fish
Words will never make you into a crab [if] you are a fish
CoadPorcupine who [does nothing else but] eats palm leaves in great
SOE
ON”
OPO)
pt
quantities
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 113

8 Porcupine who [does nothing but] eat palm leaves in great

quantities
g Huge porcupine who eats palm leaves chomp, chomp, chomp
10 Porcupine who [does nothing but] eat palm leaves in great
quantities
11 Huge porcupine who eats palm leaves chomp, chomp, chomp
1 A ni ko roko, ko r’oko
2 A niko redo, ko r’odo
3 A niko sea, ko s’eja
4 Antko s’akan, ko s'akan
5 Oro ti ko se akan, ej Nt Ose
6 Oro ti ko se akan, eja ni ose
7 Erekense a bi je’ko falafala
8 Erekense a bi je’ko félafala
g Ereagbon a bi je’ko bite bite bite
10 Erekense a bi je’ko falafala
11 Ereagbon a bi je’ko bite bite bite
[Collected in Igbogila, 1978]

The first four lines make use of rhythmic repetition, while the final words
of each line shift meanings. They comment on a lazy person who will not
do anything he is asked to do. Line 6 repeats line 5 to reaffirm that
talking about doing something does not mean that it will be accom-
plished. Shifting focus, the final five lines suggest that a lazy person, like
the porcupine, is self-serving; he does nothing in life but fulfill his own
basic needs, i.e., eating. The last six syllables of lines g and 11, bite, bite,
bite, are onomatopoeic and refer to the munching sound of a porcupine
indulging in palm leaves. A similar idea may be conveyed in motifs on
masks, for example, by depicting a porcupine eating corn (pl. 50).
Eka are not always so lengthy. Often they are brief one-liners con-
densed from longer texts, which can be repeated a number of times. Or
they may be succinct verbal images that evoke a larger context. As a
Yoruba proverb explains, “It is necessary only to give half of a speech to
the well bred person; inside him it becomes whole” (OQwomoyela 1979:8);
that is, a fragment suffices to recall an entire text or context. The eka
below is a fragment that alludes to a popular song:

La la la dance e, moon dance e

La la la j6 e, dstipda 76 e
[Collected in Pobe, 1973]

With great brevity it evokes a song about an eclipse, likening it to a fight

between the sun and the moon in which the moon loses. A line from the
song asserts, “The moon cannot fight” (O le l’osupa ko le ja). Commanding
 114 GELEDE

the moon to go ahead and dance, the performers of this eka challenge
other dancers by Ee that they can never outshine ak

the arieats offFSaaed. ee Aerie o and helroue: evokes a broader

ritual context:

Thundergod flying outward yeyeye, Abidogun

Sango ntti yeyeye, Abiddgun
[Collected in Aibo Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Abidogun is the name of the dancer performing the eka. It is added to

elaborate the rhythm but it could just as easily be omitted or replaced by
another name. Freely translated, the eka instructs Abidogun to “make
your skirts fly outward as they would do if you were performing the
dance of the Thundergod Sango.” The expression yeyeye 1s Onomato-
poeic, imitating the sound of the priests’ paneled ceremonial skirts whirl-
ing through the air as the dancer turns (color plate 4). The use of
idiophonic language, or what S. A. Babalola (1966:67— 68) calls “word- |
pictures,” is Common in drummed texts—as it is in Yoruba poetry gener-
ally—and is notable in ‘a a number of other examples discussed later 1
in this
chapter
Eka comment on many aspects of behavior: competition, social mat-
ers;“dance, and life in general. Equally important ‘is the rhythmic play of
ee the more accomplished the dancer the more difficult and complex
e rhythms he will dance.
Competitiveness provokes the drummers to assert their abilities;
they warn the dancers that if they try to outdo the drummers in perform-
ing eka, they will just exhaust themselves. By alluding to the behavior of a
moth, this eka in the form of a proverb makes its point indirectly:

Moth
The one who tries to put out the lamp
It’s himself he kills
Afoopinén
To 16 won wo pa fitila
Arddare ni o pa
[Collected in Igbogila, 1978]

Another eka cautions that whoever offends a wicked person should

anticipate revenge:

[Rhythmical lead into eka]

The Divine Mediator does not hassle the snake
Anyone who treads on a snake
Is one who will be making a sacrifice [to appease the snake]
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 115

Ti bete ke, ti bete ke, ti bete ke, ti bete ke

Esu ko s’ejo
Eni ba t’ej0 molé
Oluwa re le bo mbo
[Collected in Igbogila, 1978]

Not even Esu, who is a troublemaker himself by nature, would threaten a

snake; anyone foolish enough to offend a dangerous creature must be
prepared to pay the consequences.
Many eka focus on dance movement, either directing it or simply
commenting on it. The following eka speaks from the point of view of the
dancer, who asserts that he is going to activate his body parts sequentially.
It attests to a feature of West African dance often observed by analysts,
the segmented use of body parts:

I can use my arms to dance, use my arms to dance

I can use my legs to dance, use my legs to dance
I can use my whole body to dance simultaneously
Mo le f’apa 36, f'apa 36
Mo le fresé jo, fesé jo
Mo le fi gbogbo ara jo muke muke
[Collected in Aibo Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

A more complex variation of this eka, stated from the observer’s

point of view, goes:

If Iwere you
I would use my arms to dance, use my arms to dance, use my arms to
dance
If Iwere you
I would use my legs to dance, use my legs to dance, use my legs to
dance
If Iwere you
I would use my entire body sin sin sin sin sin sin
To ba se pe mi ni wo ni ni wo mi
Mba f’apda jo, f’apa jo, f'apa jo
To ba se pe mi ni wo ni ni wo ni
Mba f'ese jo, frese jo, fese jo
To ba se pe mi ni wo ni ni wo ni
Mba fi gbogbo ara sin sin sin sin sin sin
[Collected in Igbogila, 1978]

Sin sin sin sin sin sin imitates the sound of the ankle rattles and also serves
as a bridge of regular beats so that the dancer may “catch” the next
rhythmic pattern.
Eka are not always so explicit. They often refer to dance movements
 116 GELEDE

metaphorically, as the next one does, evoking the image of a hunter

pulling on tree branches so that the disconcerted squirrels chatter and
scamper about:

Pulling on a branch of a tree, kuru kuru kuru cried the squirrel

Nfa lo fa’gi ya, kurt kurt kurt odogbo

[Collected in Ketu Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

The dancer incorporates pulling gestures in the arms and shoulders into
his dance, as he matches his steps to the beats of the phrase.
Eka actually form only a small portion of the entire dance. They are
usually embedded in longer rhythmic sequences that introduce and con-
clude them. The introductory material prepares the dancer, as one
dancer put it, to “catch” the eka in order to synchronize his steps with the
drumbeats, and the concluding material bridges the eka with the next
verbally oriented material. In Igbanko Quarter, Pobe, a group of six
masqueraders dances to only one eka during its performance. The eka is
embedded in a longer rhythmic sequence called :woro. Before and after
wworo come two other drum patterns called alujo, a general Yoruba term
meaning “dance to the drum.” The alwo of Igbanko Quarter have been
adapted from the Fon and Bariba peoples, neighbors of the Yoruba to
the west and north respectively.
The initial alwo, imitating a Fon style, is the entrance sequence,
which carries the dancers across the performing area toward the drums
with a simple, quick, step-close-step, first to one side and then to the
other. With their arms extended out diagonally above their heads, the
dancers twirl the horsetail whisks at their wrists. The drummers, approx-
imating the tones of spoken Yoruba, beat:

The domesticated pigeon will always be prosperous

The dove will always find tranquility

lye m'iye eyelé

Tro nitro adaba Vérin

This rhythmic text is sometimes used in prayer and concludes, “So let me
be prosperous; let everything be well with me” (Awolalu 1973:87). The
pigeon, a domesticated bird used in sacrifices to bring honor, prosperity,
and longevity (Abimbola 1976:206), is noted for “its serenity in flight, its
neatness of appearance and its smartness in movement” (Awolalu 1973).
The West African red-eyed turtle dove (adaba) is considered the sister of
the domesticated pigeon and shares the same attributes. The pigeon and
the dove are appropriate images for the dancers, who attempt to achieve
neatness, grace, and agility. The rhythm functions as a prayer, in effect
beseeching the mothers to grant prosperity and peace to the dancers,
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 117
who are metaphorically doves. This is another sense in which dance is
sacrifice.
Collectively, the dancers adhere to the rhythm, but they need not
maintain spatial uniformity throughout the alwjo. Then, as the drummers
launch into zworo, the dancers prepare “to attack” the eka embedded in it.
Assembling themselves in two parallel lines, they step uniformly, match-
ing the beats as the drummers play:

We have arrived
We have arrived
We have gone outside
We come dancing
Awé lo dé
Awé lo dé
Awé dé si ta [or: awd lo dé ta]
Awé li njo

The dancers perform tiny jumps in time to the rhythm, which is played
thrice. Once they have completed the eka, they may break out of line,
angling their bodies and veering off to one side or the other to perform
the second alwo, the delicate kete of the Bariba, a moderately paced,
gentle dance of small amplitude. The drummers beat:

Pleasure has come, pleasure has come, pleasure has come, that’s what
we are engaged in
We are creating pleasure
Pleasure is ours
It’s pleasure that we are creating all around
Pleasure is being created, pleasure is being created, pleasure is being
created, pleasure is being created
Faji dé, faji dé, faji dé a nse
Awé nse faji
N6 faji lawa
Igbakigba faji Vawa nse
Fai Va nse, faji Va nse, faji Va nse, faji Va nse

The dancers use this sequence to exit, asserting their abilities kinetically,
while the drummers support and reaffirm them rhythmically in a pattern
that exudes pride and self-confidence.
The structure of individual dances may vary significantly from place
to place. The Pobe form is most similar to that of Ketu and vicinity, and it
resembles the forms. used by the Ketu Gelede societies in Sawonjo, Ig-
bogila, and Isale Eko, Lagos. But throughout northern Egbado and in
Abeokuta and Ilaro, performances are ordered differently. Gelede
families collect and dress in their compounds and, when they are ready,
 118 GELEDE

+e ei ; 4°
PLaTE 52. A family of devotees of the iron deity, Ogun, dances
to the marketplace along with its masqueraders, who represent
hunters, motorcyclists, and marketwomen. Ilaro, 1978.

dance in groups to the marketplace (pl. 52.) As each group arrives it tells
the drummers which eka to play, and all the masqueraders and others
from that compound who wish to dance join in. Meanwhile, other com-
pounds may rush into the arena, too, until the performance space be-
comes so packed that the dancers’ movement is limited (pl. 53). As more
participants crowd the dancing space, observers see less and less of indi-
vidual masqueraders. Although uniform in their rhythm, the dancers are
individualistic in their use of space, entering and exiting spontaneously,
aOLATall ikethemore organized dance-eroup approaci-in Pobe, where
the introduction and conclastnmare pire<ciome oftn 7 aes
~—~Wherever Gelede is performed, its rhythmic sequences tend to be
strung together in serial fashion. Aside from the fact that these various
patterns occur in the same context, they otherwise have no inherent
relationship either rhythmically or textually. They can be reordered or
changed since they are discrete, self-contained units. This type of
framework allows for great variety, flexibility, and spontaneity in per-
formance.
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space
119

ay

PLATE 53. In Egbado, a congested dance space limits the

performer’s freedom of movement. Ilaro, 1978.
 120 GELEDE

In addition, there is no formal thematic relationship between the

masks and the dances or between the masks and the drummed texts. And
although in some instances drummers may comment spontaneously on
particular masks or dancers, on the whole there is no inherent thematic
link between the drummed texts and the dance steps or mask motifs.
Likewise, the masks themselves have no thematic relationship to each
other, and the program has no predetermined sequence other than that
children tend to dance first. The program on any given occasion 1s the
result of the convergence of masks, which have been commissioned at
different times by various participants. What holds the whole together
and moves it along is the rhythm. a
The art forms that make up Yoruba spectacle operate collectively
/ and yet autonomously, each carrying its own information, which is not
necessarily related to that of others. The convergence of art forms con-
\ceived and created independently results in a multifocal spectacle. Its
artistic elements compete for attention, and in its midst, the spectators
too are inspired to join the competition.
In the great interplay among participants, spectators become per-
formers and performers become spectators. Spectators may sit down to
drum and drummers may break to rest and observe. Dancers or family
members can tell drummers what to play or drummers can initiate music,
and spectators are free to join in the dancing. Thus individuals mold and
shape the performances spontaneously, making each one fluid and
unique.

The Costumes

of defining self. Cloth. is one way J eee and the Yoruba

nen (Omo Vaso-eda) equates it with
the people’s most valuable possession, children. Clothes, like children,
are what a person shows to the world, and society judges accordingly (cf.
H. Drewal 1979:189—190).
Gelede dance costumes differ from those of Efe night in a number of
respects. First, ensembles made of grasses or palnr fibers, used by several
night masquerades, are rare to nonexistent in the daylight masquerades.
Second, while embroidered and appliquéd panels may occur in some
are 5
towns, notably Ketu, Idahin, and Meko (color plate 5), the vast majority
of Gelede costumes consist only of amultitude of women’s head ties (074),
baby wrappers, and skirts (iré) tied in various ways (color plates 2, 4, pls.
52, 54). Third, in contrast to the tailored and elaborately decorated
outfits commissioned by some Ketu Oro Efe, Gelede performers borrow
cloths from women and assemble their costumes anew just before each
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 121

performance. This form of assemblage is important to our comprehen-

sion of the significance of Gelede.
Membership in a Gelede society, it will be recalled, is open to all.
Usually certain lineages play a major role in the society’s activities and
may claim hereditary rights to certain titles, but anyone, especially those
“troubled” by the mothers—those who are experiencing such difficulties
as sickness, impotence, or barrenness—can join the society. Thus, in its
membership, Gelede stresses communality as well as lineage identity. In
this respect, Gelede contrasts with the Egungun society, whose mas-
querades honoring the spirits of ancestors give emphasis to kinship and
lineage identity. As one Gelede elder put it (Adepegba 1971):

You will never hear an individual say “my Gelede will dance today.”
Gelede belongs to the town. If you have money, you can buy cloth, as
many kinds as your money can buy to make an Egungun, but you will
never see a person owning Gelede.

Gelede “belongs to the town” and that is why special performances, in

addition to festivals, are arranged to deal with communal disasters such
as epidemics, droughts, or famines. The fact that no individual or lineage
really “owns” Gelede, that it belongs to the entire community—the chil-
dren of the mothers—is reflected in the way Gelede costumes are put
together.
Cloths borrowed from women constitute the essential part of Gelede
costuming (pl. 54). There
here are
are no
no tailored
tailored costumes,
costumes, no
no selection
selection of
of par-
ticular fabrics. Donations from women in the dancer’s compound
compound or or in
in
neighboring ho: re collected before the afternoon perf
ea torersamt cherpiecesof
women’s clothing are incorporated. The assembled cloths are referred to
as aso egbé, “cloth from the society” (Ogundipe 1971); Gelede is “the one
that goes about collecting cloth. It is a day-collector-of-cloths” (enzt-o-y’aso-
l’osdn) (Akinwole 1971).
Gelede costumes seek to define, embellish, and amplify certain
physical attributes of the sexes in order to create extraordinary images
epitomizing maleness and femaleness (akogi and abogi). Male Gelede cos-
tumes in Ketu areas are constructed in essentially the same manner as
Ketu Oro Efe, but the fabrics may differ (color plate 5). Instead of the
embroidered and appliquéd panels, multiple layers of head wraps are
usually tied onto a bamboo hoop, expanding the girth and impres-
siveness of the chest and torso to exaggerate the male physique (color
plate 7). This massive cylinder of fabric conveys solidity and substance,
prestige and stature. Such costuming transcends reality and proclaims
the patronage of the community’s women. Although it does not attempt
122 heed Nea

wii
Ed

PLATE 54. At Ibara, Abeokuta, the dancers wear a costume

made of borrowed cloths that hang down to the ankles and
another cloth that covers the face and torso. 1978.
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 123

to imitate male fashions, it produces a similar effect—that of enlarging

and enhancing the stature of the wearer through an ostentatious display
of cloth.
Male Gelede in Egbado and Awori generally follow the Ketu styles.
Long-sleeved jackets, usually red, are overlaid with an encircling mass of
knotted head wraps that descend to the dancer’s knees (color plate 8).
Bamboo hoops are absent, so the girth is not as great as in Ketu. Only
rarely do male Gelede vary their costuming. When they do, it takes the
form of women’s cloth head wraps covered by a long man’s gown of
men’s weave (aso oke) tied at the waist by a single head wrap (pl. 55), as in
Efe costumes in [aro (pls. 31, 44).
Female Gelede costumes feature a wooden spool, woven fish trap, or
stick construction tied around the waist to exaggerate the hips and but-
tocks (pl. 56). It is called bébé, a reference to women’s body beads worn
around the hips. The bebe is then covered with a woman’s wrapper to

PLATE 55. At Ilaro, a male Gelede wears a man’s long woven

gown tied around the waist with a woman’s head tie.
Underneath the gown are other head ties. 1978.
PLATE 56. In female Gelede costuming, a fish basket tied at the
waist and covered by a large wrapper serves to exaggerate the
hips and buttocks. Lagos, 1978.
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 125

create the illusion of large, protruding buttocks hung with strands of

waist beads, which are supposed to make women alluring. Another dis-
tinctive female costume item, a wooden breastplate (omi), is tied on with a
cloth or rope harness and then secured with other head wraps above the
bodice (pl. 57). Most breastplates are carved very simply and painted
brightly (pl. 50), but some take the form of statuettes or twin figures (pl.
58) or are elaborately carved to include figures such as monkeys and
lizards (pl. 59). In all cases the breasts themselves are firm and assertive.
In the Ketu area, a cloth such as a head tie or an embroidered and
appliquéd panel is draped over these wooden breasts, and the ends are
often held by the performer and manipulated during the dance (pl. 10).
To cover the face of the dancer, a cloth known as aso Gelede is attached to
the lower rim of the headpiece by means of wooden pegs or nails. The
mask angles slightly forward over the forehead and is tied under the
dancer’s chin and at the back of the head with cords (igbagbon). Cloth
covers the arms and legs, and ankle wraps (agbéku) support the numerous
leg rattles (thw). Sometimes a female wears a blouse or short jacket over
which several bands of cloth head ties are wound tightly around the torso
from waist to chest and tied at the back, creating a narrow bodice (pl. 60).
Horsetail whisks, one for each hand, complete the ensemble.
The girth of the male image contrasts vividly with the narrowness of
the Ketu female Gelede costume, whose sexual attributes are portrayed
in the protruding buttocks and hips and the thrusting breasts. These
contrasts are reversed in the costuming of Egbado and Awori areas,
where female costuming produces a massive girth of layered cloth (pls.
54, 56), and the males are slenderer (color plate 8, pl. 55). At Ilaro and
Ajilete, for example, the bottom layer of female Gelede costuming con-
sists of leggings, rattles, stockings, hip/buttocks construction, arm wraps,
blouse, breastplate, and wrapper—elements common to all areas. From
this point, however, costuming styles diverge, for after the wrapper has
been tied, once around the waist and once just under the breastplate, a
long band of cloth with a whole series of head wraps tied onto it 1s
wrapped around the upper chest and over the breastplate so that the
variegated cloth hangs down to about the knees of the dancer, forming a
cylinder (pl. 61). After this a long sheer or lace aso Gelede is attached to
the rim of the mask, and the headdress is placed on the performer’s
head. Thus, Egbado and Awori female Gelede can be as broad as male
Gelede. A somewhat different costume mode exists at Sawonjo, an Eg-
bado town that has been influenced strongly by Ketu (color plate 11, pl.
62). The style is midway between Ketu and Egbado fashions. Here, the
knotted head wraps tied over the breastplate bulge outward over a finely
embroidered wrapper (color plate 6), but another cloth strip under the
126 ELEDE

PLATE 57. A wooden breastplate, held in place by a harness, is

draped with a cloth. Ketu, 1971.
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 127

PLATE 58. A masquerader with drums on his headdress

substitutes twin statuettes for breasts. Joga/Imasai, 1965.
PLATE 59. Lizards and monkeys adorn the breasts of this
masquerader. Imasal, 1971.
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 129

PLATE 60. Characteristic of Ketu-style female Gelede costumes 1s

the narrow torso tightly wrapped with women’s head ties. Ketu,
1971.
PLaTE 61. Tying numerous head ties loosely around the upper
chest and breasts produces a bulky image in the female Gelede
of Egbado. This headdress depicts snakes wrapped around
medicine vials. Ilaro, 1978.
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 131

PLATE 62. At Sawonjo, headwraps tied both above and below the
breast plate and an elaborately designed wrapper over the hip
and buttocks construction create a sense of compactness in a
basically bulky form. 1978.
 132 GELEDE

breasts pulls them in to create a degree of compactness in a basically

bulky upper torso.
Female Gelede at Lagos, despite cultural links with Ketu and Eg-
bado, have a unique and distinctive mode of dressing. All the basic re-
galia are the same, although a large cylindrical, woven fish trap is used to
create enormous buttocks. The knotted head ties, rather than completely
surrounding the masquerader, dangle in front between the wooden
breasts and are secured around the waist. Then, over this massive torso
fits a special square cape (éww), frequently with a scalloped fringe and a
hole for the performer’s head (pl. 63). In front is an apronlike garment
with three rectangular bordered panels said to represent the three tute-
lary deities of Gelede in Lagos—Esu, Ogun, and Iyanla. A photograph
taken circa 1945 shows a female Gelede in Lagos whose costume com-
bines traditional handwoven and imported fabrics of the day (pl. 64). A
reversal of imagery thus occurs; males in Ketu have massive torsos more
akin to female Gelede in Awori and Egbado, while females in Ketu are
slender, like Awori and Egbado males. At Lagos, where Efe is said to be
“male” and Gelede “female,” we did not witness any male Gelede mas-
querades. In a number of instances, primarily in Ketu areas, parts of old
and discarded paneled costumes were being incorporated into newer
ensembles. Some of these panels were backed with animal skins or cloth
that simulated such skins (color plate 8).?
“~~ Young children wear costumes that reflect their status as neophytes
| (pls. 7, 47). Their masks are frequently old, cracked, or poorly carved or
\ are simply painted calabashes. Knee-length cloth is sometimes attached to
the rims to cover their faces, but often it is eliminated so that the children
can see where they are going. Most of the youngest performers wear a
smock or their regular clothing rather than the women’s cloth or head
ties of the typical Gelede costumes. Rattles are omitted, or simulated with
strings of bottle caps around the ankles, or are actual tku, which are
carried in the hands (for protection) rather than worn (pls. 48, 49). As
young masqueraders become more serious about their dancing, their
ensembles become more complete and proper. Those depicting females
are given blouses and skirts, while male Gelede use knotted head ties
wrapped around their chest. Some are also given leggings, leg rattles,
arm wraps, and either whisks or leafy branches to hold in their hands (pl.
48). The addition of the buttocks construction and wooden breastplates
to the female or bamboo hoop and head wraps to the male usually signals
, postadolescence and maturity as performers.
gh For adults, costuming must be complete to be acceptable as tribute to
AN - i the mothers and, therefore, efficacious. The mythic essentials of the en-
or ; Oe semble—image, head wraps, and leg rattles—must be present. Beyond
A that, they can be enhanced, extended, embellished, and magnified to
af ANY «Create convincingly transcendent images of females and males. Serrated
|
ANI
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 133

PLATE 63. A female Gelede in typical Lagos fashion sports a

square cape (ewu), which covers the breasts, and an apronlike
garment with three rectangular panels said to symbolize Esu,
Ogun, and Tyanla, the divinities of Gelede at Lagos. Lagos, 1978.
 134 GELEDE

PLaTe 64. A portrait taken circa

1945 shows a Lagos female Gelede
with ewu, apron, and a
combination of traditional
handwoven and imported cloth.
Nigerian Museum archives.

edges and the male Gelede embroidered panels sewn over animal skins
(color plate 8) are consistent with some Egungun costuming and suggest
that the attire performs a protective or medicinal function. The same
may be true for a Gelede wearing parts of an old costume underneath a
newer ensemble. Remnants of a forefather’s costume, like the skins of
animals, are efficacious and honor one’s predecessors, adding an element
of power and protection to the ensemble.

Dance Structure and Style

Typical of both akogi and abogi (male and female) Gelede is the
doubling of dancers in identical masks and costumes (pls. 10, 65). One
Gelede dancer explained why masqueraders dance two-by-two in identi-
cal masks (Aibiro 1973): “It is because women give birth to twins as
children. That is why there are two masks. It is that we are born by the
same mother.” Indeed, Yoruba women have one of the highest rates of
twin births in the world, but the dancer’s explanation is not merely a
statement on fertility. It implies that the mothers can control life itself by
being able to bring two identical human beings into the world.
The marketplace is important to twins in that their mother is often
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 135

PLATE 65. Ketu-style female

Gelede, reversing their
forward-inclined torsos, cause their
breasts to bob provocatively. Then,
with great force, they stamp
toward the drums, raising their
feet and presenting them forward
across the midline of their bodies.
Idahin, 1971.
 136 GELEDE

required to dance there and beg for alms. As a worldly realm where
spirits intermingle with humans, it is an appropriate environment for
spirit children and an appropriate place to synchronize worldly assertions
with spiritual efficacy. The concept of matching the drum speech during
the eka is dramatized by pairing identical masqueraders. ‘Thompson
(1974a:204) notes the virtue of comradeship in the pairing of Gelede
masqueraders. Data collected in Pobe and Isagba suggest a strong spiri-
tual dimension in certain types of friendship. When two partners make a
pact and adopt a common secret name, they often choose to dress alike
and may be mistaken for twins. By virtue of their pact, the friends mutu-
ally guard and protect each other, and it is implied that the two can
communicate by mental telepathy. Similarly, during the nighttime Efe
ceremony that precedes Gelede in Ketu, the singer portraying Oro Efe is
protected by a medicinally prepared, reduced replica of himself, which
accompanies him throughout the performance. Thus doubling seems to
imply increased spiritual force and transcendency. Some informants be-
lieve that twins share one soul or that one twin ts the spirit double of the
other (Houlberg 1973:23). Perhaps this concept of a double operates as a
spiritual backup to Gelede’s worldly assertions. In this context, twinning
may be a visualization of the individual in his worldly and otherworldly
manifestation, the two aspects appearing simultaneously in the market-
place during spectacle.’
In any case, Gelede dance can be distinguished further on the basis
of style. A sampling of opinions by Gelede dancers scattered throughout
western Yorubaland reveals that they generally agree, in theory at least,
on the stylistic distinctions between male and female masquerade dances.
A northern Egbado dance master explains (Adepegba 1971):
GBNS a a

When dame created they are created to do things easily [érd] and
beautifully [eye]. ... When qe his dance_is strong [le], for
men are to do things that requirepower [a@gbara]. . . . When a female
Gelede is dancing she would be allowed just enough space to dance for
everybody to see her dancing and to enjoy and appreciate her dancing,
unlike a male dancer who will be jumping here and there.

Rene Aibiro (1973), an Anago Yoruba dancer from Pobe, states that
female Gelede

don’t disturb themselves very much... . The dance of the female we

say is a dance which 1s for pleasure [/@?]. Itis not a strong [le] dance. .. .
The female must dance gently, carefully [pélépeélé]. A

In support of this Anago perspective, an eka collected in Egbado area

instructs the female masquerader:
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 137

Begin diligently
Begin carefully
M4 si lesoléso
M4 st pélépélé
[Collected in Igbogila, 1978]

Pelepele implies both carefully and gently. A form of this word appears in
the Ifa verse introducing chapter 2, which advises how one should deal
with the mothers in order to survive (Beyioku 1946). The verse begins:

Prudence was the ancient wisdom among the Egba

Prudence was the ancient wisdom among the Ijesa
Pele ni ns’‘awo won lode Egba
Pele ni ns’awo won lode Tjesa

The verse then instructs Orunmila, deity of divination, that to avoid

death he should put on a mask and costume to enter the town of the
mothers. The text advises that carefulness or prudence is the proper
demeanor for approaching the mothers or, more specifically, for dancing
Gelede. Continuing his comparison of males and females, Aibiro adds
that when the male appears,

He is always courageous. ... He dances and he does something very

difficult, because men are hot. They are always hot. That means to do
something very rapidly. ... Ako must dance hard [le]. jo yoya. He must
not dance gently. He must dance hasa, hasa, hasa!

An Aiyetoro man (Akinfenwa 1978) says, “Anything that requires energy

[agbara| will be referred to as ako igi [male mask].” Yoruba scholar
A. Olabimtan (1970:193), originally from Ilaro, states,

The male must always behave in a really masculine manner whilst the
female, though actually a man, must not for a moment behave like a
man. Whilst the males are fast in their dancing steps, the females tend
to be slow and sluggish.

And, finally, an Ajilete informant in southern Egbado describes males as

“hot” and “hard” and females as “cool,” dancing “in a highlife mood”
(Thompson 1974a:203). An eka from Pobe, concluding with the male
whirling around so fast that he often falls, asserts that masculine physical
power is so strong as to overwhelm the female mask:

Don’t accidentally kill the female mask

The male mask comes very quickly
It’s the male coming very quickly
Quickly approaches the female
 138 GELEDE

Ko st ma p’abo
Ako dé wéré wéré
Si li s'ako wéré wéré li s'ako
Weré wa wa li s'abo

Following the eka, the drums play “igberete” to instruct the male mask to
turn (igba) forcefully.
In spite of the clear emphasis of informants upon the greater
strength of the male masqueraders and the gentleness of the females, the
female-type dance is more energetic, on the whole, than most other
~Yoruba dances. Actually, both male and female-type masked dancers
maintain extremely high energy levels, and the distinction between the
two is to be seen in the way rod use dynamics to develop the dance in
conjunction with time and space.’ What informants perceive as a lack of
energy on the part of the female is simply a slightly lower level of physical
force in comparison to the male, and only in certain segments of the
dance. The perception of a lack of energy may stem from the female
Gelede’s greatly restricted use of space and, at times, a somewhat slower
tempo.
One of the most striking traits of Gelede is the static quality of the
mask, which sits on what appears to be an extended neck. This balance
and calm contrasts with the larger energetic gestures of the body from
the shoulders down (color plate 4). It is not merely the balancing of a
weighty object that dictates this relative stability of the head and mask,
but a conscious aesthetic choice. Most masks without superstructures and
carved in light wood are easily secured to the dancer’s head and allow
considerable action. ‘The formal face of the mask, with its symmetry and
simplicity ofline, ee ah sense of Bess

rigid, straight, and ete lneea pe ce hips. Slightly flexed knees

accommodate the inclined torso (pls. 10, 50, 56, 65, 66). This posture
provides a solid base and allows the dancer to maintain close contact with
the earth, while freeing his body from the waist down for speed, force,
and agility in the transferral of weight. The male Gelede tends to main-
tain a very wide stance (pl. 66). His body position and, in Ketu area, the
bamboo hoop around his chest accentuate this width. The female in Ketu
area, in contrast, tends to step from a relatively narrow stance, which is
echoed in her tightly wrapped torso (pls. 10, 50, 57, 60, 65). Both male
and female utilize movements of a very wide amplitude, carving out
space with big, fully realized gestures. They extend the full arm parallel
to the ground. Horsetail whisks (éruke) held by many dancers emphasize
the reach of the arm. The horsetail whisks symbolize heredity, for the
Yoruba say, “The horse dying leaves the tail behind; the children survive
the parents” (B’esin ba ku a f'iru dele, omo eni ni ns’ehin de ni) (Beyioku
The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 139

PLATE 66. Stamping erratically from a wide stance, the male

Gelede communicates physical power and impetuousity. Idofa,
LOTT:
 140 GELEDE

PLATE 67. A male Gelede with appliquéd panels grips the

bamboo hoop under his costume and moves it rhythmically
during his dance. Idahin, 1971.

in if 1946). Ketu males vary their arm carriage by tucking their arms into their
qosides and gripping the bamboo hoop around the chest in certain move-
ment sequences (pl. 67).
Differences in the use of ground space sharply delineate males from
nales. Whereas the female pursues a fairly straight path toward the —
drums, the male darts here and there, covering the area impetuously (fig.
2). Recall the words of an Egbado dance master, “a female Gelede . .
would be allowed just enough space to dance . . . unlike a male dancer
who will be jumping here and there.” He is explosive and erratic, while
the female appears qutwardl rolled, restraining her energy for re-
lease in the eka section of the dance. Her stamps are strong yet confined
in space.
In the Ketu area, female masks usually perform in pairs. When they
are ready to dance, they position themselves at the entrance to the arena
with their backs to the audience. Marking time to the drums with deliber-
ate steps, they move alternate feet diagonally forward on the first beat of
each measure; the arms and torso incline toward the forward foot. The
drummers finally launch into the alwo, the entrance pattern, as the
dancers whirl around and majestically stamp into the arena. With great
force, their feet are distinctly raised and presented forward before being
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 141

emphatically placed on the ground. The crossing of the feet over the
midline of the body emphasizes the narrowness of the tightly wrapped
torsos and characteristically narrow stances. Most often the torsos are
inclined forward, and the arms create large sweeps, working in natural
opposition to the incisive legs, which are either carried only inches above
the ground or raised chest high. On one occasion, radically reversing
their forward-inclined torsos, a pair of female Gelede thrust out their
stomachs and breasts and, with sharply undulating torsos, swung their
breastplates upward so that they bobbed provocatively in the aftermath
of each emphatic stamp (pl. 65). Their forearms, which flanked their
torsos horizontally, circled backward with each undulation. This stamp-
ing pattern, and its variant above, may incorporate single pivot turns as
the free leg is carried high. The overall impression of the entrance se-
quence is supreme composure and controlled power as the paired fe-
males pursue a direct line toward the drums. The drummers repeat the
sequence until the dancers have reached them, then they give notice for
the second rhythmic pattern.

t company it throughout Gelede areas are a series of small, ex-

tremely rapid, rhythmically complex jumps (pl. 68). The dancers initiate
these jumps subtly from a central impulse in the pelvis, which raises them
onto the balls of their feet, their toes barely losing contact with the earth.
The eka can also be translated into slight shifts of weight from one foot to
the other. The costume construction, which builds up the buttocks,
bounces and swings, exaggerating the hips and emphasizing the subtlety
of the movements. The intent of the dance is clear in an eka that accom-
panies this dance motif:

Lying eléwélé around the hips, body beads make a woman’s buttocks
stick out sesesesese

[Collected in Aibo Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

A variation on this theme 1s:

Lying eléwélé around the hips strung together one after the other
Beads become a woman’s friend, sticking out
Berebere, berebere, pa vi [bridge]

Eléwele eléwele eléwele

Tleké, b’obinrin s’oré, elérebe
Berebere, berebere, pa ri
[Collected in Igbogila, 1978]

Both eka refer to the body beads (iéké) worn by women around their hips
and covered by a wrapper. Elewele is a word-picture that evokes the way
 GELEDE
ate
142

Idofa

f
a

approximate limit of dance space — — —

drum ensemble xx

Fig. 2. Performers’ use of ground space, Ketu region.

The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 143

Female

Idahin

EYE Ihe }
a \ ~ “a \
la x a wa a

\ \ ex /
Se” NUN \ 2 7

Idofa

il oS A ip SS
fi Ne \
[ ol \
} \ |
‘ jaa y
144 eck pada

PLATE 68. A female Gelede executes eka with a series of small,

extremely rapid and rhythmically complex jumps. Ilaro, 1977.
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 145

strands of beads fall naturally in response to the contour of a woman’s

hips. Small girls sometimes wear them before they are old enough to
dress fully. Body beads are considered beautiful because they build up
the hips, as the two eka assert. The second eka alludes further to the
bouncing action of the buttocks created by the tiny, powerful jumps
performed from an inclined body position. A wooden spool tied around
the dancer’s hips simulates and, at the same time exaggerates, a woman’s
buttocks bearing body beads.
Another eka refers to these jumps, characteristic of female Gelede,
by alluding metaphorically to a frog. To the rhythm of the eka, the dan-
cers coordinate raising and dropping their shoulders with their jumping
feet:

Frog jump into the river, jump into the river, jump into the river,
jump into the river sere, sere, sere
Konko bé s’odo, bé s’odo, bé s’odo, bé s’odo, sere, sere, sere
[Collected in Aibo Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Sere is a word-picture that conjures up a frog slithering into the water.

The female jumping motif, with buttocks bouncing and swaying, is
small in amplitude but powerful. Dust flies, and sometimes the ground is
literally torn up. Informants who describe female Gelede as gentle are
speaking in relative terms. The emphasis of this jumping pattern is down
into the earth; each sequence is terminated with an emphatic stress to
balance (dogba) the drum phrase (Thompson 1974a:203). The body is
maintained predominantly at one level with only slight variation. The
head remains posed and calm, and the stance is narrow. In contrast to the
forward progression of the entrance sequence, the female generally ex-
ecutes the eka in place, moving only slightly backward or forward. The
great rhythmic sensitivity, speed, and virtuosity of this pattern excite the
audience, as the good Gelede dancers match the beating of their feet to
the beating of the drums.
In one brilliant performance, two female Gelede from the town of
Ketu initiated their dance with an extremely rapid and rhythmically com-
plex eka, digging into the earth with great power and agility. After a long,
involved pattern, they emphatically hit a last beat, suddenly whirled
around, and majestically stepped into the arena. They swept their arms
up and down in opposition, and every now and then they punctuated
their steps with pivot turns. The audience threw up its arms, yelled, and
cheered. Not only had the dancers performed a difficult and challenging
pattern brilliantly but they had dared to attack it in the beginning, in an
improvisational reversal of the usual sequence. They were confident
enough to ignore the advice presented in the eka “begin diligently; begin
carefully.” With the eka concluded, the dancers may break out of their
 146 GELEDE

uniformity to exit in a more moderately paced sequence, like the kete of

Pobe, that allows them to bask in the glory of a task done well.
The male Gelede, on the other hand, stresses physical prowess, dar-
ing, and freedom. He must stamp so powerfully as to stir up clouds of
dust, as an eka for the male Gelede suggests:

Clouds of dust appear from above the market, clouds of dust yeyeye

Erukt la ta’ke 6ja, éruku yeyeye

[Collected in Aibo Quarter, A1yetoro, 1978]

The sharp k sounds hint at the male’s staccato gestures, and yeyeye is the
sound of the dust flying. Male choreography exhibits great variety in
stamping. The male approach toward the drums differs from the re-
strained and regulated progression of the female Gelede. Working from
a wide stance, which echoes his expanded chest in the Ketu areas, the
male Gelede constantly fluctuates in his movement, making him seem
spontaneous and agile (pl. 66). His body levels vary from an upstretched
posture, his feet barely skimming the earth, to a low, plunging position.
As he traverses the performing area, he continually shifts direction, angl-
ing from side to side. He may perform a kind of freeform hopscotch, or
energetically track sideways while forcefully raising his knees, or merely
stamp in one spot. In an unexpected movement he completes a full turn
with vigorous stamps, and, as excitement builds, he whirls around with
such impetus that he nearly leaves the ground. His arms are extended to
the sides, and the profusion of head ties knotted around his chest fly out
on the wind as he turns. As if to exhaust the potential of his dancing
space, he rushes at the audience, forcing them to fall back and make
room. Or in a charge he may suddenly toss his horsetail whisks into the
air and dart off abruptly in another direction. He attacks his space with
such great vigor that sometimes his attendants must point him in the
right direction. He is quite unlike the female, who takes a relatively
straight and narrow path toward the drums.
In Ketu area, where male costuming includes a bamboo hoop sus-
pended around the chest with multiple cloths attached, the dancer
manipulates the hoop with his hands. He may rotate it as his body twists,
bounce it as his body rocks, or jump it in time with his shoulders, greatly
~ enhancing and extending his range of movement. In northern Egbado
the male’s playful, erratic sojourn is accompanied by a series of eka strung
together, called ewulu, a word-picture that evokes a musical pattern com-
posed of assorted rhythms following each other in rapid succession. As
he Pobe dancer says, “When the male [Gelede] comes he is always coura-
eous. ... He dances and he does something very difficult because men
are hot. They are always hot.” Thus, it is the artistry of the male mas-
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 147

querade to be daring, to command the entire space, to dazzle and sur-

prise the audience as he asserts his power, his cunning, and his freedom.
A stylistic analysis of the male and female Gelede masquerades from
Ketu area generally corroborates the statements of dancers and other
critics. What is curious is that stylistic analyses of Egbado and Awori areas
do not bear out the statements of dancers and critics from those areas.
Male and female masquerade dances are not nearly as distinct as these
critics indicate. Thus, the statements cited above from an Egbado dance
master on the distinctions between akogi and abogi apply accurately to
Ketu but not to Egbado. It also happens that the ratio of males to females
in Ketu area is more balanced than anywhere else. In Egbado there is an
overwhelming preponderance of female masks, and in Lagos all the
Gelede masquerades seem to be female. Male masquerades appear, how-
ever, in Efe night, and there is general agreement among members that
Efe is male and Gelede is female. That Gelede is considered female
throughout Egbado, Awori, and Lagos perhaps explains why there are
fewer males generally and why the dance styles of abogi and akogi in those
areas are less distinct.
Compared with Ketu style, Gelede dance in Egbado and Awori areas
is in general less energetic and more moderately paced. As in Ketu,
however, a calm countenance reigns over a more active body. Also similar
is the dance posture, the straight, inclined torso and flexed knees.
Whereas the use of space sharply delineates male and female mas-
querades in Ketu area, it is not so distinct further south; females seem not
to be so restrained spatially, and at the same time males are not nearly so
erratic in their approach to space. Added to these differences are certain
contrastive features in performance format between Ketu and Eg-
bado/ Awori areas: shape of space, orientation to space, order, grouping
of dancers, and point of entry into the arena.
In Lagos, identical pairs of female Gelede form two long parallel
lines to begin the afternoon’s performance (pl. 69). The entry is proces-
sional. Flanked by women shaking sacred rattles, the lines of Gelede in a
simple step-together-step movement parade toward the drums and then
circle leftward, returning to their starting point to begin again. They
repeat this procession several times, then exit, and each Gelede pair or
single returns to dance separately, first paying homage to the drummers
(pl. 70). Female Gelede in Lagos, in contrast to those of Ketu and Egbado
areas, are indeed gentle, and their dance steps are extremely simple and
repetitive. Another feature unique to Lagos is the striking way the Gelede
end their dance sequences. Guarded by male attendants, they abruptly
throw their torsos forward and go into a rapid spin, like a top (pl. 71).
There is a concept in Yoruba dance of spinning like a shell (jy6 bé okoto),
but these concluding spins, unlike those in other dances, are performed
PLATE 69. Lagos Gelede line up in
identical pairs in preparation for a
processional that opens the _
afternoon performance. Isale Eko
1978.

PLATE 70. A female Gelede kneels

and pays respect to the drummers
before beginning a solo. Lagos,
1978.
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 149

to give the impression of loss of control, as though the dancer were being
spun by a force outside his body. Lack of control is further suggested by
the responses of attendants. They rush forward instantly to break the
thrust of the spin, catch the masquerader around the waist, lift him, and
hold him off the ground to prevent his falling (pl. 72). These concluding
movements may allude to Gelede’s association with the god of the sea
(Olokun), who fights with the “sound of shells” (Olékwn ajaré dkoté). When
the Efe ceremony opens in Lagos, the singer invokes Olokun with this
praise name (Beyioku 1946). On one level it refers to the sound of the leg
rattles, which are likened to the sound of the sea. The spinning evokes
the dynamic with which shells wash up on the beach. This particular
feature of Gelede is peculiar to Lagos.
Regional variations in the amount of space and the concern for
controlling it may account for variations in format and, particularly, in
the use of space. Marketplaces vary in size, capacity, and shape, and these
factors will necessarily affect the performance. The marketplace in Ilaro,
for example, is full of permanent sheds and stalls that significantly limit
the dance space. Markets may also be vast open spaces in which women
set up temporary stands on market days. In such a setting, crowd control-
lers regulate the size and shape of the dance space by attempting to
manipulate the crowd of spectators. Often they are able to maintain a
relatively large space, anywhere from 10 to go feet wide and up to 150
feet long.
In Ketu and Ketu-related towns, the open space that the crowd
controllers maintain is usually a long, narrow rectangle (pls. 67, 72) with a
clear separation between the performers and the audience. The dancers
have a long runway for their dramatic entry and can parade across the
space before they break into the eka just in front of the drums. In con-
trast, the dance space in Egbado area tends to restrict the dancers. Less
crowd control allows the space to shrink around the dancer(s), creating a
confined circular or ovular shape (color plate 4, pl. 61). Other mas-
queraders may interrupt spontaneously, and the space may then become
so crowded with masqueraders that there is no longer any distinction
between audience and performers (pls. 8, 9, 11, 52, 53). Since the dancers
adapt to the available space, the space ultimately affects the style of the
dance in a particular marketplace. In towns where permanent stalls in-
fringe upon the dance space or where crowd control 1s of little concern,
the dancers’ movements are necessarily restricted to a small area just in
front of the drums.
What do these differences imply? The fact that Awori and Egbado
performances on the whole are less structured and more spontaneous,
and the portrayals of males and females are less distinct than informants
actually describe them, suggests either that Gelede in Egbado and Awori
areas changed dramatically from its original style and structure or that in
150

/ PLatre 71. A female Gelede dancer

UY goes into a rapid spin. Lagos, 1978.
Y

PLATE 72. Before the dancer loses ~

his balance from the momentum of
his spin, attendants rush forward
to grab him and lift him up off the
ground. Lagos, 1978.
 The Dance: Texturing Time and Space 151

Ketu it became more structured and more distinct. Three points are
relevant in this regard and suggest that the former is the case. First, it is
significant that throughout Egbado and Awori areas the origin of Gelede
is attributed to Ketu. Second, dancers and critics from Egbado and Awori
areas stress distinctions between male and female masquerades that do
not exist in those areas but apply more accurately to Ketu. This suggests
that there has been a more dramatic change in form and style in those
areas than in Ketu. Whether it occurred during the diffusion of Gelede
from Ketu or after its establishment in Egbado/Awori areas, perhaps
because of the upheavals of civil wars, remains to be considered. Third,
although it is stressed universally that Gelede masqueraders perform in
pairs, that does not occur in many Egbado towns. Although masks are Apt ile
frequently carved in pairs, they often perform singly, perhaps because
performers are not available in certain areas. In a number of Egbado NZ
communities today it is difficult to amass enough dancers to put on a
Gelede spectacle. Elsewhere, as in Badagri, Gelede has completely died
out. Gelede in Ketu thus represents the ideal, according to participants
throughout western Yorubaland.

Summary
Men perform Gelede as a “plaything” for women. The dance reflects
men’s perceptions of themselves and of women, creating “a play of pow-
ers made visible” (Langer 1953:87). Men as choreographers, trainers,
and performers create a powerful image of humanity, which charac-
terizes what is ordinarily invisible in the world or, rather, what normally A

is concealed inside human beings. In a tightly structured play of great

energy, embellished with masks and costumes that amplify and define
social roles and physical attributes, males externalize and make visible the A&Z
vital natures of men and women, identifying and defining their life force,
ase. The dynamics of movement thus evoke innate, ordinarily invisible
vital power. Images of male ase emerge as the man aggressively consumes
the space surrounding him, his explosive manner flaunting unrestrained
power. Female ase, as expressed by the male masquerader, is made visible
in the narrow stance and controlled and channeled movement, end
pursues a direct line toward the drums with a strength and speed un-
common in Yoruba women’s dancing. The male does not attempt tor
imitate female dances; rather he expresses something much deeper—the
inner power, the vital potential of female ase, which is covert, concen-
trated, composed, and mysterious. Similar to the act of voicing, the per=-~
|
formers by acting out the vital forces of men and women through the
dynamics of the dance bring those life forces into the phenomenal world
where they can be observed and studied. In this way Gelede not only
affirms life but secures it.
 The Masks of Gelede

The energies made visible in Gelede dance and enhanced by the costum-
ing are matched by the enthralling imagery of Gelede headdresses. De-
picting practically anything that might be seen in the Yoruba universe,
Gelede masks document and comment on the domain of the mothers,
that is, the world. Yet despite the enormous diversity of images in Gelede,
the form or morphology of the masks themselves varies little. By contrast,
the morphology of the nocturnal Efe masquerades, such as Arabi, the
nocturnal mothers, or Oro Efe, varies significantly from area to area and
even within communities.

Form

Gelede masks consist of a head representing a human or an animal,

sometimes with a superstructure. The superstructures either amplify a
theme in the lower portion of the headdress or, more often, develop a
different subject. Some superstructures are sited directly on the head or
coiffure (pls. 48, 53, 58, 61, 62, 73), while others rest on rectangular or
circular platforms that project to the sides or are raised above the head
(pls. 74, 75). In the Yoruba (and African) tradition, they are carved from
a single block of wood. Some portray intricate mass/void compositions of
humans, animals, and objects. Often, the bilateral symmetry of the head
is mirrored in the superstructure, but there also may be striking asym-
metrical compositions that contrast with the relative simplicity of the
head. Like the creators of Egungun and Epa headdresses, some Gelede
artists demonstrate their mastery of the medium by developing ex-
tremely complex and complicated imagery within the confines of the
basic cylindrical mass of wood. For example, an Egbado masterpiece
honoring carvers (pl. 102) shows one at work with a knife, his adze over

152
The Masks of Gelede 153

PLATE 73. The superstructure of this mask is sited directly on

the head. Musée Royal de l'Afrique Centrale, Tervuren
(REG 7289 82712):
 154 GELEDE

Pate 74. A covered tray of bananas balances on a cylindrical

support in this female-type mask. Ijale Ketu, 1978.

his shoulder, while the face of the mask is itself covered by another
carved face from the same block of wood. Many other carvers take just
the opposite approach. Rather than accept a solely subtractive approach
to their material, they may also add on wood to demonstrate their vir-
tuosity. The result is an array of extensions and attachments—stationary,
interchangeable and moveable (pls. 9, 52, 59, 76, 77). Such superstruc-
tures are indicative of the sculptural freedom and innovation in Gelede
art and distinguish it from the more conservative approaches to much
shrine sculpture and masquerade headdresses for Egungun and Epa.
Extensions and attachments are achieved in various ways. Some
Gelede headdresses have a cylindrical or conical projection at the top,
which supports the attachment (pls. 47, 78). Gelede images of market-
women Carrying wares in containers on their heads are often constructed
in this manner since it allows the container’s diameter to be much greater
than that of the head (pl. 111). It also allows either the headpiece or the
superstructure to be replaced should one or the other break or rot. To
extend forms into space, far exceeding the dimensions of the original
wood cylinder, the carver expertly carpenters and fits attachments using
a variety ofjoints (pls. 76—78, 139, 144, 145). :
Some ensembles are even more ambitious. At Igan Okoto, Egbado,
The Masks of Gelede
155

PLATE 75. Platforms on the sides of this mask support two

standing figures who in turn hold tumblers. Museum fiir
Volkerkunde, Berlin (III C 41149).
 156 GELEDE

PLate 76. Moveable chains are suspended from joints on both

sides of the head. British Museum, London (1942 Af 7.10).

there appeared a life-sized equestrian masquerader. The horse’s head

and tail were carved, and its torso consisted of a lightweight wooden
frame covered in cloth. A hole in the center of this construction accom-
modated the rider, who was a typical Gelede masker. A similar horse was
documented in Ibara Quarter, Abeokuta, by T. J. H. Chappel (pl. 79).
This particular innovation may have been inspired by the work of the
master carver Duga of Meko. Bascom (1973:78), citing a letter from an
interpreter at Meko that described an important Gelede funeral com-
memoration 1n 1953, reported that

Duga for the ceremony carved a horse of wood and gave it four wheels
to walk on, and he made it so that four people could be hid in the mat
which he covered round the horse. Two people pushed it forward and
two people pushed it backward. He trained the people to push it as if it
were alive, and he trained the rider to dance with it as if he were riding
a live horse. It was very wonderful and interesting indeed.

Some artists are not content with simply extending their forms in
The Masks of Gelede
157

PLATE 77. The creator of this headdress demonstrated his

virtuosity by assembling a variety of attachments and media,
including a mirror and metal disks. Musée Royal de l'Afrique
Centrale, Tervuren (R. G. 62.42.1).
 GELEDE

PLATE 78. The flowing form of a

woman’s head tie embellishes a
sculptural coiffure. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (289).

PLATE 79. An ingenious Gelede

masquerade of a king on
horseback demonstrates the
inventiveness of Yoruba artists. .
Photograph by T. J. H. Chappel in
Abeokuta, 1964. Nigerian Museum
archives (neg. no. 46.5.B.5).
 The Masks of Gelede 159

PLATE 80. Hinged joints allow the

carved representation of cloth to
fly outward as the masquerader
turns. Ofia, 1971.

space; they want to activate them as well, using hinges and other con-
structions. In headdresses at the Nigerian Museum, Lagos, and the Santa
Barbara Museum of Art, the face swings to the side to reveal another
carved face behind it. This display of sculpting virtuosity may also offer a
philosophical comment on the entire phenomenon of masking.' Otooro
Odusina of Ketu has created a mask with two sets of wooden hinges that
allow the carved representation of cloth to fly outward as the performer
turns (pl. 80). In another example, two enormous snakes clutching an-
telopes in their mouths emerge from the heads of a pair of female Gelede
masks (pl. 81). The long snake forms are hinged near the top so that they
can be manipulated by the masqueraders during performance. The head
portions of the masks were carved by Fagbite Asamu of Idahin, circa
1930, and the snake attachments were finished in 1971 by his son and
student, Falola Edun, after Fagbite’s death. Another superstructure,
photographed in Ilaro but carved in Agosasa (pl. 82), depicts two coffin
bearers. It is an assemblage—the coffin is attached to the heads, the arms
are nailed to the shoulders, the figures are secured to a long rectangular
platform, and the whole construction is attached to a cylindrical pedestal
projecting from the head of the mask. A type of headdress that is concen-
160 ELEDE

PLATE 81. Joints make moveable enormous snakes that emerge

from the headdresses, thus adding another kinetic dimension to
the dance. Photograph by Howard Wildman, Idahin, 1971+
The Masks of Gelede 161

PLATE 82.. Depicting coffin bearers, this headdress is assembled

from many separate parts. Ilaro, 1978.
 162 GELEDE

trated among Ketu, Ohori, and Anago Yoruba incorporates movement

in the superstructure by means of articulated figures whose parts are
manipulated with cords. These puppetry masks appear during both Efe
and Gelede ceremonies and depict all kinds of genre scenes: bawdy,
humorous, or horrific (pl. 83). Their kinetic aspect literally “animates”
further the transcendent images presented by the masqueraders.
In addition to attachments to and extensions of the headgear,
Gelede sculptors create other costume elements, including breastplates
(pls. 50, 58, 59), breast and belly plates (pls. 84, 85) (cf. also Huet
1978:pls. 80, 86; Kerchache 1973:12, 24), trunk masks (pls. 86, 87), back
plates with babies (Beier 1958:13), and wooden spools covered by cloth to
build up the hips and buttocks. All of these pieces intensify female attri-
butes and stress beauty, fertility, and maternity.

Iconology
While there may be little variation in the format of the Gelede mask,
its imagery knows no bounds. Literally everything under the sun, that is,
within the realm of the “owners of the world,” inspires the creators of
Gelede masks. The headdresses, whether representing Yoruba or non-
Yoruba, men, women, or animals, make visible the “children” of the
mothers.
Although the themes are virtually limitless, certain ones recur fre-
quently. We have classified the masks in several subject categories, recog-
nizing that some would fit into more than one category. All of them
present some sort of social or spiritual commentary—praise, criticism, or
simply a documentation of an aspect of Yoruba life and thought. The
themes 4 Gelede masks, corresponding-_generally to those expressed in
Efe songs, are role recognition, ridicule, a ical forces. In the
roups and individuals are honored. The masks commemo-
rate certain age groups; various social, economic, political, or religious
roles; and specific deceased individuals. The second category deals in
devastating humorous or satiric imagery ridiculing antisocial elements or
opponents. The third conveys concepts about the forces operating in the
Yoruba cosmos.

Role Recognition
The Yoruba divide all Gelede masks into male (akogi) and female
(abogi) categories, which are sometimes based on the subject matter de-
picted in the mask. For example, a head with a female coiffure would be
called abogi (literally “female wood”); one wearing a man’s cap would be
identified as akogi, (literally “male wood”). Male-related subject matter in
the superstructure may indicate an akogi, but not infrequently a head
with a women’s head tie may have a male-associated motif, e.g., hunting
The Masks of Gelede 163

PLATE 83. Headdresses with

puppets manipulated by cords
provide additional visual and
kinetic interest. William and
Robert Arnett Collection.
Photograph by Gerald Jones.

PLATE 84. Breast and belly plates,

whether plain or elaborately
decorated with scarificauion
patterns, emphasize the theme of
the knowledge of the source of life.
Photograph by Howard Wildman,
Isagba, 1972.
 GELEDE

PLATE 85. Pendulous breasts, an expanded womb, and enlarged

labia make visible the inner power of women. Musée Royal de
Afrique Centrale, Tervuren (R. G. 75.78.2).
The Masks of Gelede

PLATE 86. A female holds a head

tle around her shoulders in this
trunk mask. Harrison Eiteljorg
Collection. Photograph by Robert
Wallace.

PLATE 87. As in plate 86, a head

tie is draped around a female’s
shoulders. Museum fiir
Volkerkunde, Basel (III 12719).
 166 GELEDE

(pl. 108); or a female costume may be combined with a male mask. But
beyond the mere identification of females and males, coiffures,
headgear, figures, and objects in association with the main faces of the
masks define much more specific roles within these two broad groups.
Fashions not only enhance a person’s physical appearance but also
reflect and interpret Yoruba life as they express and maintain social
identity—one’s station or accomplishment in life in terms of occupation,
education, inheritance, religion, or wealth. The adornment of the head 1s
an important means of expressing social identity (cf. Houlberg 1979). It
will be remembered, furthermore, that the head (071), consisting of both
the physical, outer aspect (07 ode) and the inner, spiritual one (077 nun),
is, according to Yoruba belief, the site of one’s personal essence, poten-
tial, and destiny. The dressing of one’s outer head for ritual occasions
communicates something of one’s inner, spiritual self. Certain priests of
the thungergod Sango, for example, plait their hair in a bridal coiffure to
communicate that their heads have been prepared for a special relation-
ship with the deity. Whether male or female, these priests, often referred
to as Sango’s wives (7ya Sango), are endowed with the power to soothe and
placate the god, just as females are perceived to have a soothing effect on
their husbands. Thus, the depictions of head adornments in Gelede
masks can have both social and spiritual connotations. Female coiffures,
jewelry, and head ties are suggestive of women’s roles, while male hairsty-
les and headgear suggest those of men.
Women’s coiffures may receive great attention from the carver.
Finely rendered incised lines convey the texture of braids and plaits to
evoke the sculptural qualities of the hair (pls. 88, 89). Frequently the
hairstyle is accentuated and embellished with other objects (pl. go) or by
the sweeping, curving forms of head ties that wrap around the head or
float in space to “crown” the head (pls. 91, 92). Ear and hair ornaments
are the most frequently depicted types of jewelry on the main head (pls.
111, 146, 147), but other types appear in superstructures adorned with
figures (pl. 120).
Men’s fashions are expressed in somewhat less sculptural yet distinc-
tive hairstyles (pl. 93), and often in various styles of hats, many of them
derived from northern or Islamic sources. Tight-fitting cloth fila and
caps with dog ears (fila abeti aja or labankdda, a Hausa word meaning “the
jaws of the crocodile”) appear often (pls. 94, 95), as do other unusual
headgear (pls. 96, 97). An elaborate turban (pls. 98, 99) announces the
Muslim, while the priests of Yoruba gods are shown with their own dis-
tinctive hairstyles (pl. 100).
A fine Gelede mask from Sawonjo (pl. 101) illustrates how head
adornment specifies cultural role—position, occupation, religion, age. It
depicts a female devotee of Nana Buku, the goddess associated with earth
The Masks of Gelede 167

fol

PLATE 88. The delicately rendered coiffure of the mask mirrors

the detail and neatness of the hairstyle of the masquerader’s
female companion. Lagos, 1978.
168 GELEDE

PLATE 8g. A carefully rendered coiffure crowns the head of a

female mask. Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan
(6498).

PLATE go. Ropes (broken) secure engraved calabashes to each

side of an intricate female hairdo. Art Museum, University of
Mes
 The Masks of Gelede 169

PLATE 91. A head tie sweeps

upward and around the plaited
hair. Musée des Arts Africaines et
Océaniennes, Paris (64.14.1).

ne Yj,

ce

PLATE g2. A head tie floats around

the front and back of the head.
Museum ftir Volkerkunde, K6lIn.
 GELEDE
170

PLATE 93. A tuft of hair distinguishes a head that has been

prepared with efficacious medicines. Musée de (Homme,
Paris (91.22.99).

and disease. The coiffure worn by initiates of this goddess signals devo-
tion and, in particular, a head ritually prepared to receive the gods dur-
ing possession trance (cf. M. T. Drewal 1977).
Gelede subject matter is exceedingly diverse, but central to all Gelede
imagery is its concern with hwmanity, humankind viewed in its relation-
ship to other living creatures in the world, animals and plants, as well as
to the supernatural inhabitants who move at will between worldly and
otherworldly realms. Within this world view very specific yet varied be-
liefs and attitudes may be discerned in Gelede imagery. When Yoruba
informants say that “Gelede is the god of society,” they are expressing not
only the communal nature of the cult but also its concrete impact on
social matters. It is no wonder that Gelede masks contrast dramatically
with those of Egungun. Gelede stresses the human presence in the con-
stancy of the lower portion, the head of a man or woman. Even when the
main head is that of an animal, its significance must be seen in its rele-
vance to humans. Egungun, on the other hand, stresses the otherworld
and its nonhuman aspects, by dramatically altering the human form and
including images and media that focus on the afterlife and the super-
The Masks of Gelede 171

PLATE 94. Two Gelede

headdresses depict male headgear
derived from northern or Islamic
sources: a cap with dog ears on the
left and a tight-fitting
fila on the
right. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(I: 59-35-61; T: 59-35-47):

PLATE 95. The popular cap with

dog ears is shown with flaps folded
down in this Gelede headdress.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(66.2.118).
72 GELEDE

PLATE 96. Surface treatment and pigment capture the textured

quality of a man’s fringed and tasselled cap. Nigerian Museum,
Lagos (44.1.1).

PLATE 97. A perforated cap adorns the head of this mask. Art
Museum, University of Ife.
 The Masks of Gelede
73

PLATE 98. The beard and turban

that frame the face, together with
the container on the head, identify
a Muslim trader. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (60.6.10).

PLATE gg. A turbaned head

surmounted by an animal depicts a
Muslim. British Museum, London
(1942 Af 7.7).
174

PLATE 100. The carefully shaved

head, featuring a central ridge of
hair flanked by a circular tuft with
a pigtail, identifies a devotee of a
Yoruba god. British Museum,
London (1959 Af 19.109).

PLATE 101. Coiffures like this one,

worn by a devotee of the goddess
Nana Buku, mark a head that has
been ritually prepared to receive
the spirit of the god during
possession trance. Institute of
African Studies, University of
Ibadan (679).
 The Masks of Gelede 175

natural rather than life itself. For example, animal imagery in Egungun
tends to show parts of the body—horns, skulls, skins, jawbones, and
vertebrae—as opposed to the complete and lively animals depicted in
Gelede.
The same focus may be discerned in Epa/Elefon headdresses. While
many of the superstructure images depict roles within society—most no-
tably those of mothers and children, kings and courtiers, and herbalists—
the lower portion of the headdress, instead of showing a female or male
head, presents a highly stylized, almost abstract, and only vaguely
humanoid janus form. The supernatural—not the world—is evoked
here.
The concern for humanity is expressed in the act of paying homage,
an essential ingredient in all Yoruba transactions, whether in felling a
tree or appealing to the mothers. Man operates in a world of competing
powers, all possessing a life force. He must learn to manipulate the forces
at his disposal in order to enhance his own existence and that of people
around him. In order to invoke and utilize such forces fully, one must
know their proper names, which are often esoteric or secret formulas. A
Yoruba proverb explains that “it is not enough to kill an elephant, one
must know its praise name.” Praise names (oréki) constitute an extremely
important part of Yoruba oral literature, in which poetic and often ob-
scure names, places, and images are strung together in serial fashion and
fix persons, things, or gods in a larger cosmic system. The voicing of such
praises makes up the invocations or homage known as an yuba, like those
voiced by Oro Efe as a compulsory prelude to his performance. Recogni-
tion and honor for the living, for those who have gone before, for those
more powerful than oneself, or for those worshipped are essential if any
ritual act is to be successful. Just as oriki and yuba provide verbal praise,
many Gelede masks, by their appropriateness and completeness accord-
ing to Yoruba aesthetic concepts (cf. Drewal 1980), pay homage and offer
visual praise for persons or groups, living and departed, praise that
parallels that cited in an Efe song:

Generation, by generation, by generation, the work of the

generations
The family of Akinoso all of them were Maja
The family of Akinwumi, they were the children Egungun
The house of Atunde was the house of twins
He named one child Idowu; he named Akan; he named Aya; he
named Edun
Omilana was the family of hunters and those of Ajobiare were called
Sango-has-given-me-a-gift
N’iron n’iron niron iséle iron
 176 GELEDE

Akinos6 gbogbo won lo jé Maja

Iron AkinwiimY omo Egingin ni won
llé Atunde ni ilé rbéji
O so Idowiti, o SO Akan, o so Ayd, sEdun
Omilana n’iron ode Ajtilé Ajobiare ni nw6n so Sangdbinmi
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, A1yetoro, 1971]

Among those honored in Gelede masks are artists and craftsper-

sons—carvers, Calabash decorators, blacksmiths, tattooers, leatherwork-
ers, potters, weavers, embroiderers, dyers, and beadworkers. Their
occupations, like many in Yorubaland, are primarily but not exclusively
hereditary. Patience, concentration, foresight, and perseverance are re-
garded as requisite for success as an artist (cf. H. Drewal 1980:9—10). For
art, ond, involves the design, decoration, or embellishment of an object,
and “those-who-create-art” (ontond) are distinguished by their skill in
their chosen medium.”
The expressive Gelede mask shown in plate 102 is certainly an une-
quivocal statement of sculpting virtuosity and self-assertion. It honors its
creator, an unknown master carver working among the Ketu Yorubu,
who has perfected his technique. The main head is painted white and
wears its own mask of blue. Thin vertical bands of wood constitute the
outer mask, with the eyes joining the central and lateral portions. Behind
this openwork face is another, identical one, separated by less than an
inch of space. Perched above and seated on a mat is the carver, with his
adze draped casually over his shoulder, shaving a thin sliver of wood
from a rectangular board. His trousers and buttoned shirt suggest a
certain amount of prosperity, and his hairstyle, with a tuft at the center of
a shaven head, may indicate a certain age grade, a special religious status,
or Islamic associations, for the rectangular board may be a Muslim writ-
ing board.
Less prestigious and more tedious than woodcarving, but
nonetheless essential, is the craft of calabash decorating. The mask in
plate 103 depicts two boys applying special scrapers to the outer surface
of calabash trays, preparing them for incised or pyro-engraved designs.
Both their hairstyles and their occupation suggest Hausa or Oyo in-
fluence, since a great deal of decorated gourd work comes from these
areas (cf. Bascom 1969:102; Heathcote 1976:46—48). The mere depiction
of two calabash carvers engaged in their trade honors their profession
and the families involved in it.
Other male artists are extolled as well. A Gelede headdress collected
at Ilaro in 1964 and called Onilt (Drummers) (pl. 104) portrays a diundun
drum ensemble. Up front is the lead drummer with the talking drum,
iyalu (literally “mother drum”), flanked by players with smaller pressure
drums, gdngan, isaju, or kerikeri, and followed by the musician who pro-
 The Masks of Gelede 17

PLATE 102. A carver demonstrates

his virtuosity by sculpting the main
face within an open-work one and
by depicting himself at work with
his adze over his shoulder.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos (67.8.37).

PLATE 103. Using special scrapers,

two boys prepare calabashes.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos (65.2.81).
 GELEDE

PLATE 104. A Gelede headdress

called Onilu (Drummers) portrays
a dundun ensemble with a lead
drummer in front and his
accompanists close behind.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos (66.3.25).

PLATE 105. Bembe drums, knives,

sheaths, and tassels suggest
northern cultural influences in this
headdress. Institute of African
Studies, University of Ibadan
(666).
 The Masks of Gelede 179

vides a fast fundamental beat with the gudugudu drum (Laoye 1959:10-
11). The dundun is often called the talking drum because its pitch can be
changed to reproduce the patterns of spoken Yoruba, for it is these
drums that are used to play praise poetry. The subtle contraposto stance
of the head drummer captures the playing posture of the musician as he
squeezes the tension cords of the drum against his side and hip while
sounding the praises of his patrons.
A variant of this theme is depicted on another Gelede mask (pl. 105),
which contains only the drums crowning the head. They are bémbé, large
cylindrical instruments probably introduced into Yorubaland from the
north. The knives, sheaths, and tasselled straps reinforce this theme, for
these items also come from the northern neighbors of the Yoruba.
Several finely worked masks celebrate hunters, a theme of some
importance in Efe night headdresses. Hunting figures prominently in
both the history and the worship patterns of western Yorubaland.
Numerous myths about the origins of towns and villages in this area
recall that the founding forefathers were hunters and that Egbado was
the hunting ground of both Ketu and Oyo peoples. Hunting also has
religious significance. Forests are the abode not only of powerful animals
but also of spirits. Therefore, hunters arm themselves with both iron
weapons, sacred to Ogun, and magical medicines to allow them to outwit
animals, disguise themselves, or even make themselves invisible in case of
danger. Animals, it is believed, possess their own medicines, which allow
them to shed their skins, take on human form, and interact with human
society; and there are even legends about hunters married to beautiful
women who were, in fact, animals that had removed their outer skins.
There is also a belief that a hunter who kills animals indiscriminately will
father a child with animal features, who must be thrown into the bush
immediately to perish. Images of hunters and their prey must be seen in
this complex historical and religious context.
Some headdresses show the hunter’s implements, whether a lamp
for night hunting or a trap (pl. 106). Another mask (pl. 107) depicts two
hunters, their arms and legs entwined, grasping the hind legs of a reptile,
possibly a pangolin, as it tries to escape down the face of the mask. Note
the long cutlass at the hip and the tailed coiffure of one of the men. The
scene conveys a wonderful tension between balance and movement.
Another mask sports an elaborate superstructure depicting a lively hunt-
ing encounter. On one side (pl. 108), what appears to be a lion with its leg
caught in a noose looks away as a hunter in a tree reaches down for his
gun (attachments for the branches are missing). On the other side (pl.
109), a hunter armed with gun and medicine packets corners a curious
tusked beast. The artist not only captures the adventures and exploits of
hunters but also conveys the realm of the forest, where spirits abound
 180 GELEDE

PLATE 106. A trap and containers

call attention to the activities of
hunters. Museum ftir
Volkerkunde, Hamburg
(64.55-595):

PLATE 107. Two hunters work

together to hold the hind legs of a
pangolin as it tries to escape down
the front of the mask. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (68.2.59).
The Masks of Gelede 181

PLATE 108. An elaborate

superstructure depicts a hunter in
a tree reaching down for his gun,
while an animal looks the other
way. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(65.9.25).

PLATE 10g. On the other side of

the mask in plate 108, a second
hunter armed with gun and
amulets confronts a tusked beast.
 182 GELEDE

and herbal medicines are gathered. All this action rides above a calm
head with elaborate head tie and labret.
The principal occupation of Yoruba women 1s trading. Many Gelede
masks depict marketwomen with wares on their heads—trays or contain-
ers of foodstuffs and other commodities, which are an everyday sight in
Yorubaland. The women are economically independent of their hus-
bands and have the opportunity and potential to acquire great wealth. It
is possible, for example, for a wife to be wealthier than her husband, and
he may be a nonentity in the town (Lloyd 1974:38). Husbands help their
wives establish trades by giving them some money but, beyond this, hus-
bands and wives borrow money from each other with the expectation of
paying it back. In fact, if the wife is a food seller and the husband wants to
partake of her wares, he must purchase them from her as he would from
anyone else. If the husband is a farmer, he does not necessarily sell
produce to his wife even though she may be a marketwoman; rather he
sells on the open market. And the wife does not necessarily specialize in
selling the crop her husband raises. In one case, the husband raised
waterleaf, which he sold to marketwomen for resale, but his wife special-
ized in bean cakes, a dish that does not take waterleaf. A husband, how-
ever, may enlist his wife’s assistance in selling because it is generally felt
that men can be more easily cheated in the bargaining process than
women (Sudarkasa 1973:120).
ince a woman’s status derives largely from her reputation in trad-
ing, her craftsmanship, and her wealth, rather than from her husband’s
importance (Lloyd 1963:39), it is understandable why so many Gelede
masks depict females as marketwomen. Images of traders are sometimes
generalized. One such mask (pl. 110), carved by an unknown artist work
ing in the vicinity of Likimon, Ketu, pictures a food seller with a large
container flanked by two calabash scoops set upon a calabash tray. Other
masks are exquisitely detailed and specific (pls. 111-114). Plate 111 por-
trays a seller of cooked maize flour, the staple foodstuff in western
Yorubaland, which is wrapped in leaves and piled high in a woven basket
set upon a decorated calabash. This marvelous superstructure, carved
separately from the lower part of the headdress, fits onto a head of a
Yoruba woman with traditional stone earrings piercing the ears. Another
mask, by Duga of Meko, depicts a plantain seller with a bird perched on
top of a small container in the center of the tray (pl. 112). A very similar
and fluid treatment of the head tie appears in a Gelede pair by the Idahin
artist Falola Edun (pl. 113). Lidded bowls surmounted by a rolled-up
mat, all balanced on a metal tray, constitute the marketwoman’s loads.
Plate 114 shows a female mask with three elegant braids that divide the
facial plane and highlight the full eyes. Both the coiffure and the spher-
ical calabash balanced on the head are typical of Fulani women. Contain-
 The Masks of Gelede
183

PLATE 110. A trader carries her

loads to market on a tray holding a
container and scoops. Institute of
African Studies, University of
Ibadan (6496).

ers of this sort are often used for selling milk, a trade that is virtually
monopolized by the Fulani, who are cattle-herding peoples.
Religious activity is another facet of Yoruba life honored in the arts
of Gelede. Devotees of all the principal faiths of Yorubaland are repre-
sented: orisa worshippers, priests, and priestesses, Muslims and their cler-
ics, and Christians and their clergy. A number of examples illustrate the
range and diversity of visual homage to devotees and their beliefs, for it is
spiritual knowledge, whether derived from traditional Yoruba sources,
Islam, or Christianity, that enables individuals to manipulate forces and
improve the quality of life.
In view of the spiritual powers of Yoruba women, it is not surprising
that many Gelede headdresses pay tribute to priestesses and female de-
votees of various gods. One headdress (pl. 115) from the Ketu region
depicts a devotee of the rainbow deity Osumareé, whose primary symbols,
royal pythons, form a double arc over the head—Osumare “who stays in
the sky that he covers with his arms” (Verger 1957:237). The opposing
directions of the two celestial serpents balance the composition, and the
doubling and positioning of the snakes suggest the colored bands of a
rainbow.
Long, flowing strands of cowries encircle two female figures in a
Gelede mask (pl. 116) from the Agosasa area, Anago. While the precise
religious reference is uncertain, this mask may extoll the wonders of orisa
PLATE 111. A seller of boiled
maize flour carries her foodstuff in
a woven basket set in a calabash
tray. Sawonjo, 1978.

PLATE 112. A plantain seller

carries her loads to market in a
decorated calabash. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (62.21.255).

Oko, the deity associated with the hunt, plants, animal fertility, and the
mothers (Ojo 1973:25—26). Devotees of this god signal their ritual com-
mitments by a double lozenge on the forehead, and the cult’s principal
icon, a large iron staff (gpa orisa Oko), is often clad in a garment of
cowries or beads (cf. Thompson 1971:ch. 10).
A pair of female Gelede by the itinerant Ketu carver Atoba evoke a
water goddess theme (pl. 117). The specially shaped pots with protuber-
ances are identical to those used to fetch water from sacred sources for
rituals involving water divinities such as Olosa, Yemoja, Osun, Iju, and
Olomitutu.
The Masks of Gelede
185

LL Ze

PLATE 113. Lidded bowls set in

metal trays and rolled up mats
constitute the loads of two traders
with elaborately looped head ties.
Photograph by Howard Wildman,
Idahin, 1972.

PLATE 114. The long braids and

the spherical calabash with lid
suggest a Fulani milk seller, who is
often seen in Yoruba markets.
Institute of African Studies,
University of Ibadan (6497).
186

PLATE 115. [he double arc of

royal pythons frames the female
figure and pays tribute to the
rainbow divinity, Osumare, and its
priestess. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(60.1.14).

PLATE 116. Strands of cowries

encircle two females in a mask that
probably honors orsa Oko.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(66.2.280).
 The Masks of Gelede 187

PLATE 117. Special clay vessels

(otun) hold water for use in the
shrines of various water goddesses.
Institute of African Studies,
University of Ibadan (6499,
67102).

PLATE 118. A devotee of Orunmila

(the deity of divination) carries on
her head the symbol of the highest
ranking diviners, the apere igba odu,
flanked by four bottles for sacred
medicines or libations. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (59.33.69).
 188 GELEDE

Women play important roles in all cults. In the cult of Orunmila,

presiding deity of the Ifa divination system, one of the most sacred and
secret ritual objects is the apere ighd odu, or apere Ifa (the “container-for-
the-calabash-of-divination-secrets”). Plate 118 shows it being carried by a
woman. Only those who have attained the highest rank among diviners,
known as olodu (“those who have odw’), possess such a container. Four
smaller containers—traditionally hollow coconut shells, but here bot-
tles—hold sacred medicines prepared with mud, charcoal, chalk, and
camwood, ingredients said to represent four principal divination verses
(Dennett 1906:253 cited in Bascom 1969:82—83). These containers, kept
in household Ifa shrines, are sometimes used as stools by diviners and are
carried out in public by certain females during annual Ifa festivals
(Ositola 1982; Bascom 1969:82, gg, and pl. 21A).
Men, like women, are involved in traditional rites and are also hon-
ored for maintaining the faith of their ancestors. As case studies of indi-
viduals involved in Gelede among the Egbado show, people are often
touched by several divine forces, and that is reflected in their rituals.
Thus during Efe night, Oro Efe honors a masquerader in the Egungun
society, a pan-Yoruba society that pays homage to the spirits of male and
female ancestors.

Fadapa was king among masqueraders

His tray of images on the head was full of various kinds of beasts
Eiyefodo was coming
The one who danced to bata drums in the wind
Fadapa was king among masqueraders
Fadapa Voba ninu égun
Atari kiki eranko
Evefodo mbo
A 76 bata lo furufu
Fadapa Voba ninu eguingiin
[Collected at Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

Likewise, Gelede headdresses make reference to Egungun. A mask from

the Anago Yoruba displays two types of Egungun masqueraders as they
might be seen in performance (pl. 119). The two in front appear to be
aldbala, maskers known for their dancing and the manipulation of their
loose-fitting cloth sacks. They often serve as attendants to lineage Egun-
gun. The larger masquerader behind, probably representing a lineage,
displays a carved headdress above a tight fitting cloth ensemble.
Two very fine Gelede headdresses collected in 1887 and now in the
British Museum (pl. 120) pay tribute to courageous warriors, devotees of
Ogun, and priestesses and their ritual obligations. The male headdress
(right) portrays an Awori Yoruba, his head encircled by four warriors
 The Masks of Gelede
189

PLATE 119. Honoring those who

are active in the ancestral
masquerades of Egungun, some
Gelede masks depict different
types of masqueraders as they
might appear in performance.
Indiana University Art Museum,
Bloomington (77.104).

holding guns. Standing in the center is another warrior, probably an

officer of some rank and a priest of Ogun by his bracelets, carrying a
circular tray with several covered containers and a human head in the
center. War and ritual sacrifice dominate this mask. In the nineteenth
century, much of Yorubaland, including Awori country, was engulfed in
internecine warfare in which thousands of Yoruba were captured, sold,
or sacrificed (cf. Akinjogbin 1965; Smith 1969). The last is the case here,
for the artist carefully marked the decapitated head of a non-Awori with
distinctive Oyo Yoruba scarifications and coiffure. This human offering,
together with the substances concealed in the covered containers on the
tray, probably represents an oblation in honor of Ogun, god of iron and
War.
The female Gelede in plate 120 (left) portrays a kneeling priestess,
her distinctive necklaces and bracelets signaling her status. On her head
she carries a tray with four receptacles and a human head. Her kneeling
position, echoed by the four smaller surrounding females, is a gesture of
supplication, humility, and respect appropriate for the presentation of
ritual gifts. The act of holding the breasts, depicted in the smaller kneel-
ing female figures, indicates reverence and generosity in soliciting the
god’s support (cf. Abiodun 1976:17; Odugbesan 1969:209).
Devotees of other religions—Christians and especially Muslims—are
PLATE 120. Religious devotion and sacrificial offerings are
themes in these headdresses. Left, a kneeling priestess and her
supporters; right, warriors encircle an Awori priest of Ogun,
who carries a tray containing several closed containers and the
head of a citizen of Oyo. British Museum, London (1887.2-3.2,
1887.2-3.1).
 The Masks of Gelede 191
celebrated in Gelede masks. Since at least the eighteenth century, Islam
has had a widespread and significant impact on Yoruba culture (cf.
Adamu 1978:123~134). The first to establish a presence, probably Nupe,
Bariba, and Hausa, came as traders. They were followed by craftsmen
specializing in clothing, embroidery, and leatherwork, and clerics who
taught Arabic, divined, and prepared charms and amulets (Adamu
1978:123-134). Their modes of worship must have fascinated the
Yoruba, whose response to Islam probably ranged from curiosity or re-
spect to amusement or criticism. The same mixture of attitudes can be
seen in Gelede arts today, for Muslims are among the most commonly
depicted subjects. On the one hand, Yoruba admire northern leather-
work and fabric design, as can be seen in the costuming of Oro Efe and
of Egungun masquerades. They also respect the Muslims’ ability to divine
and to prepare protective medicines, as evidenced in the frequent por-
trayals of leather-encased amulets in Yoruba sculpture. Yoruba, recog-
nizing that different peoples, whether Muslims or Christians, manipulate
supernatural forces in their own way, adopted and adapted certain ritual
practices to suit their own needs. On the other hand, the Muslims were
sull “strangers” who did eccentric and sometimes amusing things which
could evoke a humorous reaction in Efe verse and drummed phrases or
in the masks themselves. The precise attitude that inspired particular
Gelede headdresses is lost, but the imagery is informative and reflects the
keen observations of Yoruba sculptors.
A Muslim cleric straddling the prow of a canoe while the boatman
paddles from the stern floats above the main head in a mask by the
master Duga of Meko (pl. 121). The artist realistically captures some of
the dress and ritual paraphernalia of the Muslims—the turban with its
snake-like wrapping, the tunic, the trousers, the leather sandals, and the
prayer beads, as well as the teapots used to wash before praying. Perhaps
this mask makes the comment that a devout Muslim, no matter where he
finds himself, even in a boat, must be prepared to perform his ritual
obligations at the appropriate time. In another mask (pl. 122), the artist
elaborates on the serpentine qualities of the turban wraps by building
spiraling cylindrical shapes, and by extending them; he thus encloses and
almost overpowers the diminutive, bearded face.
While many of the preceding examples probably rendered tribute to
living Gelede society members and other important groups and person-
ages in the community, some may have served to commemorate the dead.
In addition to performing at annual and biennial festivals and special
rites for communal disaster, Gelede glorifies the deceased. As the Osunba
of the Egbado Gelede society, Lagos, explained in a letter to Colonial
officials (Beyioku 1943):
192

PLATE 121. A Muslim cleric, his

prayer beads in his hands and his
teapots for washing at the sides,
sits in the bow of a canoe while his
assistant paddles at the stern.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos (60.1.15).

PLATE 122. A spiralling,

serpentine turban completely
envelopes the face of a bearded
Muslim cleric. Nigerian Museum,
Lagos (60.15.8).
 The Masks of Gelede 193

The rituals and ceremonies connected with the cult are regarded as
sacred religious funeral rites for the repose of the soul of our beloved
dead adherents to which every accredited member of the cult is en-
titled as of rites at death.

Frequently a pair of special Gelede masks are commissioned for

these funeral performances, often with a figure of the deceased shown in
a characteristic activity or attitude. The earliest description of a com-
memorative headdress is by K. C. Murray (1946). He witnessed a Gelede
performance in Lagos at which masqueraders commemorating the late
Chief D. C. Taiwo, Olofin of Iseri and founder of the Egbado Gelede
society in Lagos, portrayed him “with looking glasses, snake heads,
wheels and figures round a central figure.” This general composition
persists in more recent commemorative masks from Lagos. One (pl. 123)

PLATE 123. A mask commemorates

a famous supporter of the Ketu
Gelede society in Lagos, the
former Nigerian Supreme Court
Justice G. B. A. Coker. Isale Eko,
1978.
 194 GELEDE
pictures the late G. B. A. Coker, a former Nigerian Supreme Court
Justice and staunch supporter of the Ketu Gelede House, Lagos, wearing
his robes and wig. With a wonderfully subtle touch, the artist Kilani
Olaniyan of Ota, or perhaps a society member, painted the justice’s eyes
on the slightly curved surface of his spectacles, producing the distortion
of eyes as seen through thick lenses. Another (pl. 124) memorializes the
former head of the drummers. The trays on the heads of two female
Gelede show him playing the lead drum, flanked by his two supporting
drummers—a scene that faithfully reproduces a Lagos drum ensemble
(cf. pl. 70). The inscription on the edges of the trays is a prayer for the
sweet repose of the departed. These Gelede masks are thus similar in
intent to the Efe songs commemorating deceased individuals.
Other Gelede masks preserve histories or mythic events and the
memory of important personages. The elaborate Gelede mask in plate
125 consists of two heads united by an intricate composition of snakes,
crocodiles, monkeys, tortoises, and humans. Two individuals wear the
mask, which concludes the Gelede festival at sunset. The imagery in this
mask involves the history of the Gelede society among Imala and Idofoi
people. Imala people say their ancestors went from Oyo-Ile to Ketu and
from Ketu to their present sites in northern Egbado (Kilomoninse 1971;
Adeleye 1971). A political dispute at the capital forced the Alaafin’s son,
Oki, to flee to Ketu. Oki and his followers remained at Ketu for some
time before moving first to Idofa, Meko, and then to a setthement near
the Oyan River, in the vicinity of Imala. The tutelary deity of Gelede,
Onidofoi, was brought from Ketu, and Agbojo, alias Abodu, and his wife,
Apotun, were the first priest and priestess to worship the deity at their
new home. Agbojo and his successor, Elemo, were said to dress like
Muslims while performing the Onidofoi rituals. The name Elemo now
refers to the male head of the Gelede society among Imala/Idofoi peo-
ple.
Muslims at Ketu, it will be recalled, date to the latter half of the
eighteenth century, and by about 1790 they occupied the Masafe ward of
Ketu. Also in the mid-eighteenth century, according to Mercier (cited in
Asiwaju 1967:13-14), a mixed Bariba group from Boko in Borgu took
over Sabe and instituted a new ruling dynasty. Evidence of Muslim pres-
ence in the Ketu vicinity during the second half of the eighteenth century
supports Imala/Idofoi oral traditions, which associate their Gelede ori-
gins with Muslims. With these historical traditions in mind, let us con-
sider the imagery contained in the mask for Onidofoi and the details
about it provided by the king of Imala, I. O. Adeleye.
The two heads in plate 125 represent the first priest and priestess of
Onidofoi, Agbojo and Apotun, who brought the ritual practice from
Ketu to the Idofoi forest. The snakes, which form the basic structure of
The Masks of Gelede 195

PLATE 124. A masquerade pair offers verbal and visual praise

and blessing by memorializing the former head of the Gelede
drummers. Lagos, 1978.

PLATE 125. This special headdress—two heads joined by an

intricate composition of tortoises, reptiles, monkeys, and
humans—succinctly recapitulates the history of Imala and Idofoi
peoples and of the Gelede and Onidofoi societies. Imala, 1971.
 196 GELEDE
the elaborate composition, represent the supernatural powers of the
deity Onidofoi. They symbolize his vital force. The informant states,

He controls the snakes. .. . The snakes were biting the crocodiles while
they carved the image .. . just to show his [the snake’s] ability toward
other animals.

The bearded figure in the center represents Elemo. Pointing to Elema,

the king said:

Whenever we wanted to worship Onidofoi, this man was called upon

to go and face him. . . . Now the history I am telling you, if you see
anything like [a] lie, there you will be confirmed by pictures. . . . This
statue of elemo confirms the history.

The female figures

are the iyalase, the women who worship Onidofoi. They sit before
Onidofoi. They represent Apotun [wife of Agbojo, the first to worship
Onidofoi]. They worship with kola nuts and are also called “our
mothers.”

In the back view of the same mask (pl. 126), one can see another figure of
a Muslim, holding a cane and the Koran. His identity and significance
were explained in this way:

The carving of a man with a beard was said to be Sule, the founder of
Islam in Imala. He was a member of the Onidofoi [Gelede] cult during

wn

PLATE 126. The back view of the Onidofoi mask in plate 125
shows the figure of Sule, founder of Islam in Imala, holding a
cane and the Koran.
 The Masks of Gelede 197

his lifetime and helped to carry this mask to the market so, when they
carved it, they had to carve him.

Thus the imagery of the Gelede mask for Onidofoi contains not
merely entertaining or fanciful genre scenes, but specific individuals re-
corded in historical traditions, figures representative of a female ner
and the living power of the mothers, and animals that recall the mythic
power of the cult’s tutelary deity. Its images, in effect, recapitulate the
entire history of the cult and the community. es

Ridicule
Not all Gelede images extoll the virtues of the living and departed;
some satirize and criticize antisocial elements or enemies in devastating
images. A popular topic for derision is the prostitute, asewo (literally “we
do it for money”), a character who also appears in Egungun masquerade
performances for the amusement of the assembled crowd (cf. Drewal and
Drewal 1978:pl. 9). Prostitutes may sometimes be recognized by the in-
decorous way they wear their head ties and wrappers (cf. Thompson
1971:ch. 14; Harper 1970:82). Graphic scenes of copulating couples (pl.
127) or indecent actions (pl. 128) condemn improper behavior. The
masks project an attitude prevalent in the corpus of Efe songs:

You permitted your penis to enter inside completely

Even before the lights of the truck had been switched off
He exposed his testicles’ amulet [1.e., penis] out in the open
Yaya was screwing under the truck
In the s.o.b.’s presence you said Sola had no penis
Yaya was screwing under the truck
E jé ki nfisi k’ok6 wolé tan
Ina éhin sini moto
E jé ki ns tira epon gbangba
Yaya nfé won n’isalé oko
Ni s’ojti s.0.b. lé se npé Sold 6 loké
Yaya nfé won nisale oko
[Collected in Idofoi Quarter, Aiyetoro, 1971]

In addition to condemning inappropriate or antisocial deeds, Gelede

imagery may also impugn the character of enemies or rivals—a kind of
psychological warfare in art—as evidenced in documentation obtained
for a number of masks in the Musée Ethnographique, Porto Novo, Be-
nin. One of these, reportedly carved by the master Kugbenu of Banigbe,
Benin (pl. 129), possesses an enormous superstructure of a monkey in a
highly uncomplimentary condition. The indisposed monkey with
elephantiasis was said to be the totemic symbol of a group trying to rival
PLATE 127. Ridiculing indiscreet sexual behavior, a mask
surmounted by a copulating couple exposes publicly what
should remain a private matter. Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(65.17.11).

PLaTE 128. The sight of a woman boldly displaying her private

parts is particularly shocking since they symbolize secrets of
females that should never be exposed. Museum fiir
Volkerkunde, Berlin (III C 41146).
 The Masks of Gelede 199

the Gelede society. This mask must have occasioned much merriment on
the part of society members and audience, and much embarrassment to
those associated with the group being depicted.
Gelede images of foreigners, non-Yoruba peoples, sometimes fall
into the category of caricatures, ridiculing those who may have affected
traditional Yoruba culture adversely. Colonial officials are a logical target
for such playful statements, as seen in a mask from Igbesa, probably the
work of Nuru Akapo (pl. 130). The exaggeration of non-African physical
traits and the diminution of the pith helmet burlesque the colonial
official. The full, rounded forms that generally characterize Gelede
masks are here sharp and angular, especially the pointed nose and jutting
jaw, and yellow pigment creates a sallow complexion that sets off black
eyebrows, a feature rarely emphasized in Gelede images of Africans. The
result is a thoroughly comic representation of an outsider as seen
through Yoruba eyes.
Muslims also may bear the brunt of sculptors’ playful images. De-
spite their contributions in the realms of fashion, trade, divination, and
protective charms and amulets, Muslims deprecated the supposed “idol-
atry” of orisa worshippers and aligned themselves with the Colonial re-
gime by serving in the British Police Force, the Hausa Regiment (cf.
Smith 1969:173). It was probably this force that confiscated one of the
earliest known examples of a Gelede mask during one of its punitive
expeditions in an area near Lagos in the 1860s (cf. Willett 1971:87). For
these reasons, and perhaps others, commentary on Muslims in Gelede
was probably not always complimentary.

Cosmological Forces
Images of technical as well as cultural innovations brought by out-
siders may appear to be primarily humorous, yet they suggest other,
more serious themes as well. Some may, in fact, pay tribute to those who
have prospered enough to purchase and master instruments such as
bicycles and sewing machines, which then, like guns or a priest’s regalia,
become status symbols. One mask (pl. 131) depicts a Yoruba man in a
pith helmet riding a bicycle, and another (pl. 132) shows a motorcyclist
and his passenger (pls. 131, 132) (the masquerader is most appropriately
accompanied by a man wearing a motorcycle helmet). A third example
(pl. 133) portrays a tailor seated behind his status symbol, the sewing
machine. The tailoring profession and sewing machines are now wide-
spread in Nigeria. Notice the attention given to the machine and its parts
by the size and details—the spool, wheels, gears, and foot pedal. A mar-
velous headdress at Lagos depicting a biplane (color plate g) evidences
this same kind of emphasis.
In a larger sense, images of new factors introduced into the Yoruba
200

PLATE 129. The satiric image of a

monkey with elephantiasis pokes
fun ata rival group. Musée
Ethnographique, Porto Novo
(55-9-58).

PLATE 130. Playful images of

colonial officials burlesque the
pointed nose and chin, eyebrows,
complexion, and outlandish
headgear of Europeans. British
Museum, London (1959
Af 19.114).
 The Masks of Gelede 201

PLATE 131. An African wearing a pith helmet and riding a

bicycle may communicate ambivalent attitudes: a critique of
those who try to imitate European ways and, at the same time, a
certain admiration for those who have advanced in a system
imposed from the outside. Institute of African Studies,
University of Ibadan (64.21).

world (whether persons or objects) comment on social, economic, polit-

ical, or religious change. Gelede masks, like the songs of Efe, continually
evaluate the impact of the new in Yoruba life, impugning the antisocial
aspects of prostitution as it praises the social benefits provided by marvel-
ous inventions. And it is precisely the magical quality of these inventions
that brings us back to the primary impetus of Gelede—the honoring of
“our mothers,” who possess supernatural power.
202 GELEDE

PLATE 132. A mask depicting a motorcyclist and his passenger

playfully honors the man standing by in his motorcycle helmet.
Ilaro, 1978.
 The Masks of Gelede 203

PLATE 133. A tailor sits behind the

symbol of his expertise and
profession, a sewing machine,
which comments on technological
changes and their positive
contributions to society. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (60.15.16).

To a traditionally minded Yoruba, machines and their non-African

creators possess strange and extraordinary qualities. Some Yoruba be-
lieve that these inventions are the result of certain spiritual powers, pos-
sessed by their creators, which have been channeled in a positive
direction. One knowledgeable elder explained that white men used their
powers to invent things, whereas the mothers were likely to use their
powers for negative actions (Adeleye 1971). He reasoned:

The qe [destructive mothers] change into birds and fly at night. If they
used that knowledge for good, it might result in the manufacture of
airplanes or something of the sort. They can go to Lagos and back in
very short minutes. They can see the intestines of someone without
slaughtering him; they can see a child in the womb. If they used their
power for good, they would be good maternity doctors.

Since the mothers are so frequently linked with birds and other flying
creatures, depictions of airplanes on Gelede as well as Efe headdresses
seem most appropriate. The visualization of innovations perceived to be
the result of “positive ase” constitutes a direct and explicit appeal to the
mothers to use their powers in constructive rather than destructive ways.
 204 GELEDE

The concept of competing powers—physical, social, or spiritual—

operating in the Yoruba universe is communicated in Gelede headdres-
ses with two or more human and/or animal images. Yoruba believe that
one’s existence in the world is shaped by both heredity and destiny. But
through divination one can improve one’s lot with proper ritual
sacrifices. This ontological system is basically open and fluid. In other
words, a person born into a Sango-worshipping lineage may carry on
familial ritual obligations but, as a result of divination necessitated by
circumstances, may also take up the worship of any other deity or super-
natural force, recognizing that his/her well-being is determined by multi-
ces, some of which may be in competition with each other.
Humans, then, must learn how to understand and manipulate these
forces in order to enhance their own lives an round them.
The fluidity that characterizes religious beliefs and practices also
characterizes social organization. Much has been written about the sup-
posed rigid, hierarchical structure of Yoruba society; yet relatively little
attention has been given to the mechanisms that level and distribute
power and authority, more or less equally. Rules regulating the distribu-
tion of a man’s estate and the practice of polygamy—the wealthier a man
was the more wives and children he had to distribute his wealth to—
effectively ensured the equality of siblings (Lloyd 1974:190). Further-
more, titles rotated among several families so that sons could not succeed
their fathers in office. In the institution of sacred kingship, for another
example, the king makers have sufficient power to force the abdication or
execution of a ruler convicted of some serious offense (Morton-Williams
1960). And in the organization of Egbado Egungun societies, in which
titled elders share and distribute authority, the personalities of specific
officeholders may determine the precise locus, or loci, of decision-
making power (cf. Drewal and Drewal 1978). Thus, Yoruba social organi-
zation may be seen as continually in flux—a situation in which individuals
compete for power and prestige on the basis oftheir innate abitities-and
@Bé appropriate TIRuAaTAction AsFoGislerdear et ett ar
-Vonibd eaalenaeee een in which benefits of power and wealth fall
more widely upon the entire community, less exclusively upon the chil-
dren of those in the eminent positions.” It is characterized by a great
range of upward and downward mobility. Everyone has an equal oppor-
tunity to achieve, given his or her personal destiny and the aid of the
gods. These basic philosophical and social truths are vividly recorded in
Gelede masks.
One Gelede mask clearly conveys the notion of social ordering and
the balance of powers through composition and iconography (pl. 134).
The most important personage is centered and elevated on the crown of
the main head, while the two flanking figures are relegated to rectangular
platforms at the sides. The central figure’s cap and fly whisks (the latter
 The Masks of Gelede

PLATE 134. The scene of a seated

chief with a cap and fly whisk
(missing) flanked by two attendants
communicates balance, stability,
and social order. Ilaro, 1978.

PLATE 135. A warthog devours a

snake. Musée d’Ethnographie de
Geneve (38632).
 206 GELEDE

are missing) signal seniority based on age and leadership. At his sides are
attendants; on the left, a guard with his club, belted uniform, and cap; on
the right, an assistant with his hand covering a container. ‘Together the
three figures evoke a segment of leadership patterning in which a head
(ol6ré) is assisted by supporters designated by the terms dtuéin (“right”) and
ost lett)?
Animals, frequently shown in devouring motifs (pls. 135, 136, 137),
are another important means of conveying the concept of competing
spiritual and/or social forces, both in animal and human realms. One
such example (pl. 136) depicts snakes clutching a porcupine.’ Occasion-
ally such devouring motifs simply record natural occurrences witnessed
by the artist (Adegbolu 1971). However, serpents, aside from their di-
dactic connotations, may also be common in Gelede headdresses for their
plastic qualities—their fluid shapes—as well as their visual similarity to
ropes, head ties, and turban wraps. Here the sculptor skillfully adapts the
serpents to pun upon the manner in which women wrap cloth upon their
heads, just as snakes take the place of turban wraps and crescent moons
in some Oro Efe headdresses (cf. frontispiece, pl. 33). Yet the Yoruba
penchant for metaphors, puns, and other devices in both verbal and
visual arts suggests that this and other animal images have broader impli-
cations.
Animals are metaphors for different kinds of personalities, roles,
status fon I actions in hum iéty. As such, they occur
frequently in proverbs and other aphorisms. A drum rhythm, discussed
earlier, uses the allusion of a moth fatally flying into the light, in order to
comment on dancers who try to outshine the drummers, only to exhaust
themselves. In visual form proverbs about animals appear in Gelede
headdresses. Snakes are among the most frequently depicted animals,
and one mask with a serpent coiled on the head cautions vigilance with
the saying, “It may be true the snake sleeps but he continues to see”
(Drewal 1974b:pl. 10). Snakes seizing and being seized by other animals
(cf. pls. 125, 126, 135, 136, 137, 138) explicitly communicate competing
powers. They recall the Yoruba proverb “We kill a snake when we find it
without its companions” (Abraham 1958:152), which warns people to
deal carefully with those who are dangerous or powerful, an allusion
already analyzed in an Efe song. In this mask, two snakes seize a por-
cupine. Porcupines, because of their voracious appetites and slow, slug-
gish movement, are sometimes a metaphor for gluttonous or selfish
persons. A headdress depicting a plump porcupine devouring a corn cob
conveys something of this creature’s greed (cf. pl. 50). Such antisocial
behavior eventually leads to trouble, which is just what has happened to
this porcupine caught by the two snakes.
Another headdress (pl. 138), probably a wild pig, by its long snout
The Masks of Gelede 207

PLATE 136. Two snakes seize a porcupine, metaphorically

acknowledging competing forces operating in the world. British
Museum, London (1942 Af 7.6).
208 ELEDE

PLATE 137. A bird attacks a snake. Museum ftir Vélkerkunde,

Berlin (III C 41133).

ee

PLATE 138. A series of motifs depicting devouring—a pig seizes

a monkey, who in turn seizes corn, while a snake grasps a
tortoise in its mouth—literally conveys a pecking order and
symbolizes the competing forces in the Yoruba cosmos. Institute
of African Studies, University of Ibadan (6628).
 The Masks of Gelede 209
and protuberances, provides several devouring themes: pig devours
monkey, who devours corn, and, on top, snake devours tortoise. Since all
these depictions are unlikely, except for the monkey eating the corn,
supernatural forces may be implied.
Animals shown outside the context of devouring compositions com-
municate a variety of messages. Some are associated with the mothers or
with certain divinities. One distinctive masquerade type, a large hol-
lowed-out tree trunk carved in the form of an enormous gorilla, or
Ogede, is said to be associated with Odua, the Earth Goddess (Thomp-
son, personal communication, 1974). One version of Ogede (pl. 139)
displays awesome power in the bared teeth, gaping mouth, massive torso,
pendulous breasts, and outstretched arms and hands--images from the
realm of nature that are then synthesized with elements of culture, a
white necklace and bracelet, to evoke the theme of transformation seen in
the nocturnal mother masks. At Ibara, Abeokuta, another Ogede carries
its immensity to extremes (pl. 140). Enormous arms and hands extend
more than ten feet on both sides of a large open-mouthed animal, whose
ferocity is heightened by rows of flashing teeth and pointed canines as
well as a cluster of bristling spikes on the snout. Both of these masks come
out during Gelede dance performances.
Birds, especially night birds, are among the most pervasive symbols
associated with the mothers, since they are the form the mothers are
believed to assume on their nocturnal voyages. The dagbdgbo/agbigho, a
large-headed bird who frequently appears in Ifa divination poetry as an
agent of supernatural force and a harbinger of disaster, is one of these
(pls. 141, 142). According to several Ifa legends, agbogbo’s distinctive tuft
of hair resulted from certain treacherous acts. In one tale he carved a
coffin and carried it about on his head, setting it down in front of the
house of those he intended to kill. One day he arrived at the house of his
father, Orunmila. Outside he met Esu, who found out what sacrifices
were necessary to avert death and informed Orunmila, who made the
proper offerings and survived. Because of his treachery, agbogbo was
cursed by Esu. The coffin on his head stuck and became the tuft of hair
(Abimbola 1976:211-213). Thus, agbogbo, an infamous character in Ifa
literature, reminds us that only proper rituals and sacrifices can ward off
bad fortune, just as Gelede turns the potentially destructive powers of the
mothers to the benefit of the community. Another bird (pl. 143) grasps its
prey, a mudfish, in its long beak while under its broad wings it shelters its
young; it is a powerful metaphor for mothers who must devour in order
to protect their children.
Flora is extremely rare in Yoruba art yet is present in a number of
Gelede headdresses. We have already seen one example (cf. pl. 30) in an
Efe mask showing an agbe tree laden with fruit, a snake, and birds—a
PLATE 139. A body mask in the form of Ogede, the Gorilla,
combines animal teeth, paws, and human features. Kesan Orile,
1971.

PLATE 140. Another Gorilla of surreal proportions flashes his

ferocious canine teeth and stretches out his arms and gigantic
hands as if he is ready to pounce on a victim. Abeokuta, 1978.
The Masks of Gelede 211

PLATE 141. The hornbill, an

infamous character in Ifa
divination literature, serves as a
reminder that only proper rituals
and sacrifices can ward off bad
fortune. British Museum, London
(1942 Af 7.11).

PLATE 142. The distinctive

features of the hornbill persist
despite a different stylistic
treatment by the artist. Bernisches
Historisches Museum (60).
 212 GELEDE

PLATE 143. A bird grasps a mudfish in her beak and

simultaneously conceals her young under her wings, evoking
two dimensions of the mothers’ powers. Musée d’Ethnographie
de Genéve (33308).

combination of motifs that points to the probable reason for flora depic-
tions in Gelede. Birds, i.e., the mothers transformed, rest in trees, and
spirits of trees, especially zroko and apa, are companions of the mothers.
References to them recur in the songs of Efe night as well as in the
creation of the images of the nocturnal mothers. Other plants (pls. 144,
145) may have other symbolic associations. The plantain tree is associated
with Araagbo (literally “Being from the Bush”), the tutelary deity of
special spirit children (abtku), who are born to die, that is, born into the
world only to return shortly thereafter to the spirit realm. The plantain
tree is planted at Araagbo’s shrine, and its phallic fruit is favored by
children because it is sweet. In other masks, the depiction of the forest is
used to evoke the realm of operation of hunters (pls. 77, 108, 109).
Whether connoting the meeting places of the bird mothers, the tree
spirits, the shrines for deities, or the realms of hunters and others, flora
invokes a domain beyond human society, one inhabited,.by the gods,
spirits, and the mothers.
The enormous diversity of Gelede visual imagery can be said to
PLATE 144. Although they are
infrequently represented in Gelede
masks, plants, such as the plaintain
stalk, suggest the realm of spirits,
in this case, the shrine of Araagbo,
the deity of spirit children.
Nigerian Museum, Lagos
(58.15.8a).

PLATE 145. Another mask with a

plaintain stalk projecting from the
top also has snakes flanking the
face. British Museum, London
(1942 Af 7.24).
 214 GELEDE

evaluate everything that exists—women, men, ancestors, gods, animals,

plants, and objects—within the purview of the mothers, the “owners of
the world,” in terms of their influence on the living, who are the “chil-
dren of the mothers.” Roles and personages seen as contributing to the
stability and cohesion of Yoruba society are celebrated, while those detri-
mental to the community are exposed and derided in devastating images.
Competing forces operating in the Yoruba cosmos, whether religious or
social, are evoked in scenes of multiple human figures or animals in
devouring motifs. Similar imagery may also serve didactic functions as
visualized proverbs, histories, or myths. Thus, the heritage of the past 1
preserved and asserted, and_at the same time positive innovations are
encouraged and incorporated, All these ideas are meant to honor and
please the mothers. Having created appropriate images and performed
the necessary rites, the living dwell secure in the belief that as long as they
continue to act according to accepted norms, they will receive the benefits
of the mothers’ power channeled to positive ends.

Afternoon Mother Masquerades

The survey and analysis of Gelede masks above include all mas-
querade types except one—the one that climaxes the performances, thus
signifying the success of these propitiatory spectacles. It synthesizes god-
dess, ancestress, and priestess, in effect epitomizing the mothers. This
closing masquerade possesses many of the same qualities as the nocturnal
mother masquerades, yet the mask, costume, dance, music, and song as
well as the setting of the afternoon mothers convey different dimensions,
other potentials of the spiritual powers of women with regard to their
children, the society.
The afternoon mother masquerades, which seem to be most com-
mon in northern and central Egbado areas, represent the community’s
deified ancestress or tutelary deity and simultaneously her representative
among the living, her priestess. Throughout this area, she is intimately
linked with the origins of the people, their migrations into the area, and
the accounts of their settling on the land. Legends collected in Egbado
usually mention both progenitors and the gods they brought with them,
the two often becoming one in these accounts.’ The foremother, usually
barren, is told by Ifa that she and her husband must search for a new site
if she is to bear children. The story traces the journey to their destination,
a site often designated by the presence of life-giving water or some other
propitious sign. Their arrival at the appointed site heralds the birth of
many children. The town prospers, and the founding mother, keeper of
the secret of childbirth, becomes, along with her own deity and the land
 The Masks of Gelede 215
or river itself, the spiritual focus of all women seeking children. The
ancestress and goddess become one in the minds of the descendants. It is
she who personifies “the mothers” and is honored at the finale of many
Gelede rituals. Just before dusk, surrounded by the community, her
masquerade moves to the performance area to signal the end of the
Gelede festival (pl. 193).
The mother masqueraders in a number of Egbado communities pre-
sent the same themes as do the nocturnal mothers, but some attributes
have diminished while others have increased in importance, and still
others convey new messages and meanings. At Igan Okoto, tradition
claims that a warrior named Ajade led a group of people from Oyo to
Egbado during the reign of Alaafin Abiodun (c. 1775--1790), after which
they began to perform Gelede (Oke 1971; QOlatibosun 1971; Ajibola
1971; Owoleye 1971). Ajade’s wife, Oleyo Ejide, progenitor of Igan
Okoto people, is identified with a nearby stream. She is also called Iya
Olomo, “Mother-of-Many-Children,” because people “consulted her dur-
ing her lifetime in order to conceive.” Toward the close of the Gelede
dance in late afternoon, Oleyo emerges from her shrine by the stream
where the people first settled. She walks in slow, stately fashion toward
the crowded market in the center of the town as children wave branches
and sing, “Our Mother, Mother of Many Children is coming” (yd wa, Iya
Olomo mbo). The masquerader’s ensemble contains a number of impor-
tant elements that associate Oleyo Ejide with the most popular water
goddess in the vicinity, Yemoja. The colors blue, yellow, and especially
white predominate, and the blue tips of her breasts recall Yemoja’s
praise, “Mother-of-Moist-Nipples” (Verger 1957:297). Red feathers
placed in the head tie are supreme symbols of the mystical powers of the
mothers,° for they are termed “the cloth of the [female] elders” (aso
agbalagba) and refer to the power of transformation attributed to these
women. These feathers are powerful ingredients that activate medicine
and are sold in the market at high prices by elderly women (Akinfenwa
1978).
The same red parrot feathers are carved on a pair of masks repre-
senting Yemoja and her priestess, which conclude Gelede festivals in the
Egbado quarter of Ibara, Abeokuta (Obajia 1978) (pl. 146). White cotton
wool depicting hair in these Abeokuta mother masks, and the whiteness
of Oleyo evoke the cool, covert feminine powers possessed by the eldest
and wisest females, i.e., those with white hair. The double iron rattle, or
daja, an essential ritual implement used by female heads in Gelede and
priestesses of Yemoja, rings out “so be it” (ase, ase), as the people sing and
pray.
At the neighboring town of Joga there is a similar mother mas-
querade (pl. 147). Joga’s ancestor, Obalaju, is said to be an Oyo prince
PLATE 146. Left, a mask of Iya
Yemoja with red parrot feathers
(the “cloth of elderly women”)
crowning the head represents the
divinity and her priestess
simultaneously. Right, an Efe mask
has a billed cap. Abeokuta, 1978.

PLATE 147. An afternoon mother

masquerade, Iju Ejide, with white
hair and a ritual pot blends images
of ancestress, priestess, and deity.
Joga, 1971.
 The Masks of Gelede
217
and hunter who migrated to Egbado together with the founders of Isaga,
Ibese, and Ilaro—three brothers by the same mother. They settled in
their various locations and shortly thereafter returned to Oyo to defend
it against Fulani attacks, which Ajayi and Smith (1964:64) suggest was
circa 1825-1840. Obalaju and his wife, Iju Ejide, associated with a nearby
stream named in her honor, are deities; the mother mask at Joga repre-
sents her (Adesina 1971). Her appearance, like that of Oleyo and
Yemgja, climaxes the final afternoon of the Gelede festival. Again certain
themes persist: her slow, stately movement, giving the impression of age,
an impression made explicit by the white cotton hair attached to the
mask, the colors yellow and blue, the large white cloth about her torso,
and the double rattle on her lap. Two important iconic features are
added in this mother image: the pot on her head and the large cylindrical
ear plugs. The pot is a ritual vessel (otin) for carrying sacred water from
her stream. The ear plugs, a former fashion of Yoruba women, suggest
the past, the founding mother, and ancient ritual regalia. This regalia
blends ancestress, priestess, and deity into one image.
Not far from Joga-Orile, in the town of Imasai, elaborate Gelede
performances also conclude with the mother’s appearance (pl. 13). Im-
agai people say they migrated from Oyo through Aro Ketu, stopping at a
number of places on the way before settling at their present site. The
original forefather, Ojuola, was a son of Oluaso, the eighth Alaafin of
Oyo, who left Oyo on the advice of a diviner because none of his wives
could conceive. They followed the Yewa River, where they made
sacrifices, and the wives began to bear children. Finally, they settled near
a dense forest known as Aginju, where they met a woman they supposed
was a spirit (alijonu). She wore a white wrapper and drew water from the
Iju River. The woman called herself Iju, and at every Gelede festival she
would dance last. After her death, whenever there was a Gelede festival, a
masquerader would represent her. Slowly, with great dignity, the mother
mask comes from the river. Surrounded by her “children,” mother lu
blesses and protects the community. Cool white is her only color, except
for small blue dots over her face, headdress, and nipples.’ Snakes lie
coiled on her head as she shakes a double iron bell in benediction.*
In a final example at Ilu Ata Quarter, Ilaro, the mother Iya Odua is
linked with earth rather than water. Her home is Itolu, a small village
west of Ilaro considered to be the oldest settlement in the area and the
site of the central Odua shrine. Her performance on the final day of the
festival is strikingly similar to that of the other mothers of Egbado. lya
Odua comes at dusk, her white attire shining in the growing darkness (pl.
148). She moves with measured tread toward the main market, shaking
the aqgja rattle at regular intervals. Her priestesses, the Iyalaja and Otun
PLATE 148. Iya Odua comes at dusk with her white attire
shining in the waning light. Ilaro, 1978.
 The Masks of Gelede 219

lyalaja, accompany her. Their appearance, identical to that of the ances-

tral priestess masquerade, visually unites spiritual and earthly realms.’
Taken as a group, these afternoon mother masquerades share some
traits with the night mothers. But their portrayal of women’s powers
accentuates the positive, creative elements and minimizes the destructive
aspects. As with the nocturnal mothers, slow, stately movement com-
municates age and thus the wisdom and extraordinary power of elderly
women who reign as the “gods of society.” Whiteness persists in all
mother manifestations as an expression of the covertness and cool de-
meanor of the inner heads of women and the ritual purity of their post-
menopausal state. In addition, white hair conveys unusual longevity, in
itself evidence of supernatural capabilities. Yet here the similarities end.
In linking the afternoon masquerades with their progenitor, the commu-
nity stresses its biological link with its mother and invokes the regenera-
tive powers that have produced and sustained the community. The
accompanying songs ring with joyous praises of “Mother-of-Many-
Children,” in sharp contrast to the fearsome nocturnal references to the
“One-Who-Killed-Her-Husband-to-Take-a-Title.” Missing too are the
visual references to awesome power—the extraordinary beard or the
blood red beak. Here in the light of day and in full view, the entire
community, children and elders, women and men, crowd around the
creative, protective mother. She symbolically adds her own impressive
life force and blesses her “children” with her sacred rattle, which sounds
the critical blessing of ase, ase, ase (“so be it, may it come to pass”). The
deified ancestral priestess thus basks in the warmth of her children’s
respect and devotion. Her appearance assures them that the lavish spec-
tacles have successfully “pampered” the mothers and convinced them to
use their powers for the benefit of society.

Conclusion

There is little in the Yoruba world that is not visualized in Gelede

masks, for Gelede honors and serves the “gods of society” by evaluating
the state of the world through visual praise, humor, or ridicule. The
images in Gelede headdresses are concerned with the present, the “hap-
penings” involving individuals and groups in the community, as do Efe
songs. This present, however, is viewed in terms of the past, the ac-
cumulated wisdom and precepts of the ancestors, as well as the eternal
presence of the supernatural—all realms that the mothers influence. This
concern with society, with humanity, is graphically shown (even when
alluded to in animal motifs) in the primary form of a person’s head, the
“inner head.” Whether male or female, it is the site of a person’s spiritual
essence, destiny, and potential. The “outer head” can reveal a person’s
 220 GELEDE

character or nature as much as it can conceal it. Thus by simply depicting

coiffures, fashions, and body arts, or by creating complicated tableaux on
these carved heads, the artist comments on the individual’s essence,
which is then carried into the midst of the assembled community for
evaluation. In this way, the visual arts contribute to the shaping of culture
as they express the attitudes of the owners of the world. Thus, one finds
extremely complex compositions in the mask superstructures; layers
upon layers of head wraps, which convincingly document female pa-
tronage; multiple iron ankle rattles; and whisks symbolizing heredity.
The richness of the resulting ensemble, the layers of meaning, are con-
ceived not merely for dramatic effect but for spiritual efficacy. In the
presence of the mothers, the elements of the masquerade ensemble,
separately and collectively endowed with force, compel the maintenance
of human values. This maintenance is not merely a social function of
Gelede, for from a Yoruba point of view Gelede has the metaphysical
power to make its visual and musical assertions come to pass in the world.
 A Historical and
Thematic Overview

If we are to comprehend the full significance of Gelede as an artistic

phenomenon, we must examine not only the cultural beliefs, concepts,
and performances associated with it but also the historical factors that
have shaped and continue to shape it. In particular,
we will address the
following questions: What situations or conditions might have pre-
cipitated Gelede? If the belief in women’s mystical powers is pan-Yoruba,
as we contend, why is Gelede found only in western Yorubaland—that is,
in the area approximately from Sabe in the north down to the coast,
bordered on the west by the Ohori and on the east by the Egbado?' And
how and why did Gelede spread to places such as Sierra Leone, Cuba,
and Brazil?
It seems fairly certain that the history of the Oyo Empire, its political
and economic power, and its expansionist policies during the eighteenth
century had direct bearing on the spread of the Sango and Egungun cults
throughout much of Yorubaland (cf. Lawal 1970; Law 1977:43-44, 104,
139-140). Likewise, the nonimperialistic histories of the Igbomina, Ekiti,
and Ijebu kingdoms explain, at least in part, the limited dispersal of the
Epa/Elefon and the Magbo/Ekine masquerades in these respective areas.
The history of western Yoruba peoples lies somewhere between these two
extremes, and, when viewed in relation to Gelede oral traditions, evi-
dence in the art forms themselves can inform us about the historical
development and meaning of this institution. Taken together, these data
provide an overview of Gelede and suggest why it is found principally in
western Yorubaland.
Among the dominant themes in Gelede masks, costumes, and songs,
wherever Gelede is performed in western Yorubaland, are those of mar-
ketwomen (pls. 110-114); foreigners, especially Hausas or other Mus-
lims, and Europeans (pls. 98, 99, 114, 121, 122, 125, 126, 130); and

221
 222 GELEDE

foreign trade goods, e.g., sewing machines (pl. 133), bicycles (pl. 131) and
motorcycles (pl. 132). These themes have a common link to the market-
ing network, an economic system well established by the mid-eighteenth
century.

Western Yorubaland

Located largely between two major rivers, the Weme and the Ogun,
western Yorubaland is a relatively flat territory of low elevation and fer-
tile soil (see map p. xxiv). Its northern portion is savannah grassland with
some open forests. An area of thick vegetation, black clay soil known as
lama, and a generally inaccessible marshland (Kumi) separate the north-
ern and southern sections. Dry open forest extends southward to the
coastal plain. Ample water and sufficient drainage are provided by a
lagoon network and numerous streams and rivers, especially the Yewa,
which runs north and south through the center of the area inhabited by
the Egbado (literally the “Egba-of-the-Water’).
The forests, rivers, and soil of western Yorubaland made it attractive
for hunting and farming, activities frequently mentioned in migration
stories of Ketu and Oyo peoples collected in Egbado area. Its generally
open, level terrain permitted easy access and travel in most places, with
the important exception of the swamps south of Ketu. Because of its
location between the Atlantic Ocean and the interior and its level coun-
try, western Yorubaland became an important corridor for trade for both
Africans and non-Africans.
Of all the subgroups in western Yorubaland, perhaps the most
prominent historically is} Ketu,/ Ketu’s antiquity in Yoruba mythology is
well established (Johnso [1921]:7—8), yet its significance as a polit-
ical and cultural entity has been eclipsed by that of Oyo, because of Oyo’s
political and economic expansion in the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies (Akinjogbin 1965; 1966a; 1966b; and Law 1977). Well-docu-
mented king lists suggest Ketu origins in the fourteenth century, yet with
its territory extending eastward only to the Yewa River, the subgroup
remained relatively small (cf. Parrinder 1967). Despite the hegemony of
Oyo, Ketu was almost certainly autonomous until the latter part of the
nineteenth century (Atanda 1973:11-12).°
Ketu as well as Oyo accounts recognize the seniority of Ketu people
and their origins at Ile-Ife, for the second child of Oduduwa’s eldest son,
Okanbi, gave birth to the mother of Alaketu, who was accorded the right
to possess crowns (Johnson 1973 [1921]:7—8). Ketu preeminence is also
supported by Egba traditions, some of which recognize the Alaketu as
“father” or senior to the Egbas’ progenitor, the Alake. Other traditions
record their joint and ancient migrations from Ile-Ife, and Ketu Yoruba
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 223

traditions link the title Alake with an important marketplace at Ketu

(Ajisafe 1964:10; Losi 1924:2 cited in Parrinder 1967:7; Biobaku
1957:3). Even migration legends of the Aja (Popo) of Benin (R.P.B.) and
Ewe of Togo mention Ketu as a place along their migration routes
(Bertho 1949:121—132). Ketu’s preeminence in western Yoruba history is
central to the history of Gelede masquerading.
It is also via Ketu that the Islamic impact on western Yorubaland
became evident. Muslims were probably in this area and further south by
the late seventeenth century (Adamu 1978:113). At Ketu, Muslims date
to the latter half of the eighteenth century, and by 1790 they played an
important role in defending the town (Parrinder 1967:41). The introduc-
tion of Islam is a key factor in assessing Gelede history, for there are
many references to Muslims in Gelede oral traditions and in the perfor-
mance and, what is perhaps more significant, in the style and form of
certain costumes.
Another major cultural factor operating in western Yoruba country
was the expansion of the Oyo Empire (cf. Law 1977). Oyo’s initial in-
fluence in the Ketu Yoruba area resulted from its first trade routes to the
coast, which passed west of Ketu territory through Abomey and Aja/Fon
country to outlets at Whydah and Allada in the seventeenth century. This
corridor to the coast shifted to the eastern edge of the Ketu kingdom
during the reign of Alaafin Abiodun, circa 1774-1789 (Law 1977:89). As
a result, during the last quarter of the eighteenth century, Oyo immi-
grant towns were established farther south, along the eastern boundary
of Ketu, what is today Egbado and Anago territory, in order to control
Oyo’s trade route to Porto Novo and Badagri on the coast (Morton-
Williams 1964a; Law 1977:94-95). Probably one reason for this particu-
lar location of the trade route was the natural barrier created by the
Kumi swamp running east to west midway between Ketu and the coast,
but another was Ketu’s ancient territorial claims and its probable alliance
with Oyo (Atanda 1973:11-12). Although the Oyg route was established
principally for the slave trade, it seems fairly reasonable that local traders
profited from the increased traffic through the area. According to Law
(1977:307),
It seems likely, indeed, that participation in the slave trade acted as a
stimulus to local trade and manufacturing. It is sometimes suggested
that the Atlantic trade was essentially a state-managed sector which
had no direct links with the domestic economy, and it is certainly the
case that the slave trade tended to be dominated by a small number of
large-scale entrepreneurs, normally the political and military chiefs,
with the mass of the population unable to participate directly. Perhaps
the only opportunity for ordinary people to benefit directly from the
slave trade was in the supply of foodstuffs to trading caravans. ... But
 224 GELEDE

the Atlantic trade yielded a greater variety of imported goods, and in

particular masses of cowry shells for currency. Much of the trade
goods and cowries which the chiefs received in return for their slaves
was not consumed or hoarded within the chiefly households, but was
exchanged for local products, thus spreading the wealth from the
Atlantic trade more widely. It is, it may be suggested, not merely a
reflection of the point of view of the Oyo chiefs that the reign of Alafin
Abiodun, the peak of Oyo involvement in the Atlantic slave trade, was
remembered as a time of great wealth, and more specifically as a time
when cowries were abundant.

For a time then, perhaps between 1770 and 1820, western Yorubaland
enjoyed prosperity under the stabilizing presence of Oyo and Ketu. Ag-
riculture prospered (Asiwaju 1976:22), and an extensive trade network
leading from the coast far north to Hausaland and Borgu, as well as
eastward to Ijebu and Benin and westward to Abomey and Asante,
traversed the territory (cf. Morton-Williams 1969:83-84; Asiwaju
1976:23; and Law 1977:211-228).°
This era came to an end, however, for the nineteenth century
ushered in a long and painful period of warfare and disruption. The area
became a battleground for the armies of the Dahomey from the west; the
Egba, Ibadan, and Ijaye from the east; and the Gun from the southeast
(Asiwaju 1976:26, 31). Unable to forge effective alliances, towns ‘were
destroyed; people were forced to flee; and trade was disrupted until the
1880s, when, for economic reasons, the French and British asserted
themselves.
The establishment of European rule was first regarded as “an act of
liberation” by the peoples of western Yorubaland, since it effectively
stopped the depredations of both Dahomey and the Egba (Asiwaju
1976:39). Peace and trade were restored to the area. Later, however,
certain aspects of Colonial rule, in particular conscription policies in-
stituted by the French during World War I, caused a great deal of unrest.
Many Yoruba in Dahomey protested these policies vigorously. They mi-
grated eastward to establish new communities or join older ones in the
western Yoruba areas in the British territory of Nigeria (Asiwaju
1976:141—143), bringing their cultural institutions with them, including
Gelede.
The enormous political, economic, and social changes that occurred
in western Yorubaland, together with the varied origins of its peoples,
have produced a complex and often fluid cultural situation. Some of
these cultural traits are shared with other Yoruba areas, some are

c
variants, and others appear to be unique to western Yoruba groups. Itis
our thesis that it was during this relatively brief i reat _prosper-
ity ith the movements of people, goods, and new ideas along the trade
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 225
aN

route, that Gelede as spectacle spread throughout western Yorubaland.

“The trade corridor corresponds loosely to Gelede’s boundaries. It pro-
duced a large influx of immigrants, especially from Oyo, and many new
trading settlements. With the trade route also came many foreigners
(Hausa, Bariba, Fulani, and others), traders, and palace officials from
Oyo, as well as slaves, who penetrated the entire area as they had when
the trade outlet was at Whydah (Adamu 1978:113-114). At the local
level, the people who would have profited most from the increased traffic
would have been the marketwomen. In 1826, Clapperton (1829:21) ob-
served wives of the Alaafin of Oyo “in every place trading” and “like
other women of the common class, carrying large loads on their heads
from town to town.” The subsequent rapid economic decline of the area
and the upheavals of war seem to have limited the spread of Gelede.

Gelede Oral Traditions

Oral traditions throughout Egbado suggest that Gelede originated
among the Ketu Yoruba.’ This may explain why performances are more
highly structured in the Ketu area and why observable distinctions be-
tween male and female Gelede are much more clear-cut and consistent
with the distinctions described by informants throughout western
Yorubaland. One group of Egbado people in particular—those of Im-
ala/Idofoi—not only attribute Gelede to a Ketu origin but also link it with
the introduction of Islam into the area, in the mid- to late eighteenth
century. If these accounts are accurate, then, the introduction of Gelede
into Egbado area would appear to be fairly late, i.e., the latter part of the
eighteenth century. Given the number of towns that point to Ketu as the
source of Gelede, it is therefore surprising and, we think, significant to
find that testimony in the city of Ketu itself and its vicinity identifies the
town of Ilobi as the place of origin.
Ilobi traditions, which say the town was founded by a member of one
of Ketu’s royal houses, traces a long history in the area now called Egbado
(Petition 1932; Folayan 1967:15-16). One knowledgeable Ketu elder
(Ogundipe 1971) explained: “Gelede came from Ilobi .. . Gelede belongs
to Ilobi. . . Anytime Gelede is done Abiodun will be honored because he
was the founder [of Gelede at Ketu].” Another (Taiwo 1971) confirmed
this account and sought to explain the prominence of Ketu in Gelede
histories:

That is so how Gelede started. . . . The one who had interest in enter-
tainment went to Ilobi to collect it. He went to see the wisdom of
Gelede. ... When many people say Ketu is the home of Gelede, our
father went to Ilobi to bring it. It is only that the glory belongs to Ketu.
 226 GELEDE

It is just as if a person is an apprentice and, after years of apprentice-

ship, he is set free; and sometimes he becomes more popular than his
master. It is from Ketu that Gelede spread to Idofa, Imeko, and many
other places.

Ogundipe (1971) added, “Even though Ilobi is a small town, yet it is there
that Olorun [God] ordered Gelede to start, and they made leg rattles
from brass.” This tradition is preserved in the following song:

Children of Ilobi, the ones who own brass o

They are strikers of brass against brass, Ilobi o

Omo Tlobi Vonide o

E ilide lude e e Ilobi o

The same verse was cited by the king of Pobe (Odu 1973) and is said to be
a song from a divination text linking Ilobi, brass, and Gelede.
The above evidence was repeated and expanded by Father Thomas
Moulero (1970), a native of Ketu and historian of his people.*° Moulero
believed that Gelede is closely linked with Alaketu Adebiya of the Mefu
royal line, who reigned circa 1816-1853, and that its origin was at Ilobi.’
He provided some elaborate oral traditions to support this assertion. One
myth says that “when Alaketu Akibiohu [Akebioru, circa 1780-1795]
died fate chose Edun.” Moulero identifies Edun, a name given to the
second born of twins, as Adebiya. Edun’s twin brother, Akan, wishing to
rule, plotted to kill him. On the advice of a friend, Adebtya fled to Isale.
As Akan prepared to pursue him there, Adebiya was warned and fled to
Ilobi. There he prepared the following ruse: He quickly gathered many
snail shells and strung them together on two long cords, which he then
tied to posts placed on both sides of the path leading to his hiding place.
Between these two strings of shells he placed a large trunk on which he
had sculpted the face of a man. For clothing he encircled the wood with
dry banana leaves. Then he took a piece of calabash, carved it in the form
of a mask, painted it white with kaolin, and put it on the head of the
figure.* When he had finished preparing the trap, he called his followers
together and taught them this song:

Strikers of brass against brass

People of [obi
It is Ilobi that possesses brass
Afoude loudé
Ero Tlobi
Tlobi ni icholoude r

On the fourth night Akan and his followers came to Ilobi. When Adebiya
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 227

heard them, he pulled the cords. The noise so frightened the attackers,
they fled and vowed never to return. Adebiya returned to Ketu and the
throne. Later, people of Isale went to learn how Adebiya had tricked his
brother. Adebiya instructed them and said they must use the trick only at
night, that it was oro efe, a “joke,” and that its name was Oldku-ajar6-okot6,
which means “man of the sea who fought with the sound of snail
shells.”'® Isale thus began to dance at night as instructed by Adebiya. It
was much later that people began to dance during the day. This myth
and song, therefore, suggest a specific historical period (sometime after
the death of Alaketu Akebioru, circa 1795, and before the reign of
Alaketu Adebiya, beginning circa 1816), a place of origin (Ilobi), and
certain Gelede ritual elements (nocturnal ruse, costume, white-faced
mask, rattles, and song).
Moulero (1970:24—26) also collected an Efe song of self-assertion in
which the singer claims authenticity by singing that he has come from
Hobr:"'

Bringer of the dance, I come from the Ilobi area

Welcome the dancer
Tell him your last meeting with him was long ago
I am a spark of fire
One cannot put me in a wrapper [cloth]
Here I am, I the most excellent dancer
I know very well how to be the Oro-Efe
All of you approach me [come close to me]
It is from [obi that I come. It is truly from
Ilobi that the Gelede dancer comes
I hear your voice Opere
And I come to greet you
I cannot wait, dancer’s escort [or one inside the masquerade]
Child of Oje, masquerader of the king
I could not sing until tomorrow afternoon
Acclaim loudly
Sobulu the dancer’s escort {or one inside the masquerade]
I will tell you a wonderful history
Here I am, I have arrived
Opere has come, the performer, child of Oje
Don’t my leg rattles sound beautiful?
I the wonderful joker, the one with reverberating leg rattles, I dance
majestically
Tha Ilobi ni nti mbo
A seri yo
E se awu li barika, ku 6
Sinsin ind ni mr
 228 GELEDE

Nko se fu’nu aso

Asert yo de
A mo se oro-éefe
E mda sun mo mi
Tha Ilobi Vawo nti mbo wa
Nebo ariwo wo Okpéere
A ni nya ki yin ne
Tka le duro, atokun
Omo Oye, Egun Oba
Nka eha mo n d’osan ola
E maa ho yeye
Sobulu bu E gue
Ngo so’tan kan fun yin
K’e ye e wo
Okpere de, atokun, omo Oje
Ki nro wewe
Oliku yeye nyo.

Thus Moulero traces the spread of Gelede from Ilobi.

At a small town only a few miles from Ketu, named Ofia, Moulero
was told that an Edun (not the same as Adebiya) went to Ilobi to learn the
art of Gelede after being granted permission by Alaketu Adebiya. But for
a long time, Ofia was only allowed to “rent” the necessary equipment at
an exorbitant rate. It was not until the French capture of Abomey in 1894
that Oga Oluguna of Ofia was able to obtain the necessary paraphernalia
at Ika, another small town formerly in the Ketu kingdom, some 30 miles
south (Moulero 1970:27). Information collected at Ofia (Idowu 1971)
supports part of Moulero’s account, for it was said that Gelede was
brought to Ofia from Ilobi by Alareode Faseti at an unspecified time.
At Idahin, also a few miles from Ketu, Moulero was told that one
“Adyalla,” originally from Ilobi, went to his hometown with others to ask
permission to start Gelede at Idahin. After his death, Ajala was buried
where the drums are played during Gelede festivals. Moulero (1970:29)
was not able to obtain a date for the introduction of Gelede at Idahin;
however, our own information from Idahin (field notes 1971) essentially
corroborates Moulero and adds a time perspective. We know that the
Dahomean army under Gezo attacked and destroyed Idahin around Feb-
ruary 1860." The event is preserved in the oral traditions of Idahin, and
an elder said, “Ajala Aradahin [Ajala of Idahin] brought Gelede from
Ilobi. We did Gelede about forty years before the Dahomeans attacked
Idahin.” This information suggests that Gelede existed at Idahin about
1820.
Ilobi itself provides additional yet inconclusive data. An early docu-
ment (Petition 1932) says that the [obi left Ketu because of an accession
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 229
dispute and migrated southward through Itolu (near the present site of
Ilaro) to their present location in southern Egbado. At Ilobi, the king
(Ogunbiyi 1973) and his elders could offer no further information on
Gelede but did produce two sets of leg rattles and three Gelede masks.
There was clear evidence of a well developed smelting industry in the
town but, contrary to the constant references to brass in the songs, the leg
rattles seen in the field and those presented at Ilobi were all made of iron.
It should be pointed out, however, that present-day Ilobi is not located on
its original site because of the nineteenth-century wars. So the existence
of a brass-casting industry cannot be verified. Since the people had to
pass through the small town of Itolu as they migrated southward (Peti-
tion 1932), [obi was indeed probably located fairly far south. The only
additional information from Ilobi is contained in a letter from a former
king of Ilobi (Adebowale 1972):

Gelede cult worship was orisa olomowewe [god of ones-with-small-

children] . . . which the Ilobis of ages instituted. . . . Gelede dancing
spread to Ofia. .. and then to Ketu, homestead of the Ilobis. Today,
wherever an Efe/Gelede has to be made anywhere in Yorubaland,
Ilobi must be mentioned in splitting the kola-nut.

The first part of the statement confirms Moulero’s account of the diffu-
sion of Gelede. We cannot confirm the second part. While the origins of
Gelede remain conjectural, the data do seem to focus on the Ketu Yoruba
generally and on Ilobi in particular, a town formerly part of the Ketu
kingdom. The time of these events is still in doubt, yet a number of
independent sources associate Gelede with the era just before the reign
of Alaketu Adebiya, or circa 1795-1816. These dates fall within the pe-
riod of Oyo’s trade route, down through what is now Egbado territory.
The theme of doubling appears in various aspects of Gelede per-
formance as well as in origin myths. Babatunde Lawal (1978) has sug-
gested links between Gelede, spirit children, and twins, citing myths and
costuming elements as evidence. Other twin references appear in myths
collected by Moulero (1971), in which the originator of Efe was Edun, a
name given to twins. The origin of Efe revolved around a dispute be-
tween twins as to which one was the rightful heir to the kingdom of Ketu.
A review of our own data reveals additional twinning references. A night
mask from Ohori (pl. 43) was said to be “the apasa of twins,” and several
two-faced masks documented in Egbado (pls. 149, 150) as well as the
pairing of Gelede dancers were also said to represent twins. At Abeokuta,
a double-faced mask commemorates an ancestress by the name of Eyini
who, according to one account, was the mother of two children (Babalola
1971). Furthermore, twin memorial figures appear as breasts in one en-
230 GELEDE

PLATE 149. Double-faced masks represent either twins,or the

deity Eyini, mother of small children. Ilaro, 1978.
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 231

é *

PLATE 150. A double-faced mask representing Eyini carries a

tray of gin bottles for use in rituals. Abeokuta, 1978.

semble (pl. 58), and both the mothers of twins and Gelede masqueraders
dance at the market. The history of Gelede as we have developed it
coincides roughly with the history of twin veneration as put forward by
T. J. H. Chappel (1974). According to Chappel’s data, the Yoruba
stopped practicing twin infanticide about the middle of the eighteenth
century, as a result of Oyo traders settling among Egun people, who
traditionally accepted twin births. If Chappel is correct, then both the
linkage between the origins of Gelede and twins who vied for the king-
ship at Ketu and statements that people with the twin name of Edun
introduced Gelede into other communities suggest that Gelede de-
veloped after western Yoruba abandoned the practice of twin infanticide.
References to twinning in Gelede do not indicate a direct or formal link
with the cult of twins, yet they do tend to support our hypothesis of
eighteenth-century Gelede origins among Ketu peoples.
 232 GELEDE

The Spread of Gelede

A number of towns in present-day Egbado record a secondary dis-
persal of Gelede from Ketu Yoruba towns. At Kesan-Orile, traditions
suggest that the original forefather came from Ketu, but that Gelede was
introduced by the forefather’s wife, who was from Ijoun, approximately
22 miles southeast of Ketu (Oguntade 1971). In Ketu, Odudua is the
tutelary deity presiding over Gelede but, at Kesan, that position is held by
Boromu, whose origin is Ijoun, according to both Ketu and Egbado
traditions.!*’ Ketu quarter in the town of Aiyetoro claims to have mi-
grated originally from Oye to Iko and subsequently founded Tale Ketu
with the permission of the Alaketu. Circa 1900 they immigrated to Alye-
toro. Gelede was performed at Ijale Ketu for the founding forefather,
Ata, and continues today at Aiyetoro in a Ketu style (Akinwole and Ay-
odele 1971).
Other towns associated with the former trade route seem to have
started performing Gelede after settling in Egbado. The elders of Joga
contend that their founder and those of Isaga, Ibese, and Haro settled at
the same time and returned to Oyo to defend it against Fulani attacks,
which Ajayi and Smith (1964:64) date circa 1825-1840. This corrobo-
rates claims by Morton-Williams (1964a:40):
Late in the eighteenth century, Alafin Abiodun, in whose reign the
power of Oyo reached its greatest extent, founded a chain of king-
doms in what is now Egbado territory. . . . Trade was now rerouted
through these kingdoms, which were permitted less autonomy than
the Anago kingdoms had been; and the new trade route, which led to
Badagri as well as Porto Novo, was more rigorously controlled by the
Alafin.

Abiodun’s reign seems to have been circa 1770-1789 (Akinjogbin

1966b:455; 1965:27); thus, Joga, Isaga, Ibese, and Ilaro would have had
close ties with Oyo at the time of the Fulani invasions, and their founders
would have been contemporaries of Atiba, son of Abiodun and founder
of New Oyo, 1836, who had also fought against the Fulani (Smith
1969:146). Joga local records list eight leaders before 1921 and give an
approximate date of 1817 for the first."*
Gelede in Joga is not linked historically with Ketu, and performance
format confirms this. Stylistically consistent with other northern Egbado
communities, Joga’s Efe performer is unmasked and mounts the roof to
sing. Since the founding date of Joga seems late (c. 1790), Gelede in that
town must also be fairly recent.
Three other Gelede towns, Igan-Okoto, Emado, and Aibo, also seem
to be associated with the trade route to Badagri. Both Igan-Okoto and
Aibo say they migrated from Oyo to Egbado during the reign of Alaafin
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 233
Abiodun. Indeed, the village listed by Clapperton as “Liabo” is probably
Aibo, on the basis of name and location correspondences with Clapper-
ton’s data and oral tradition." Likewise, Igan-Okoto and Emado were on
the route taken by Clapperton in 1825~-26 (Morton-Williams
1964a:36).'° At Igan-Okoto, Gelede is said to have begun “the second
time they came back from war with Egba,” which is fairly securely dated
circa 1834 (Oke 1971).'’ Another account from an elder with a war title
(Owoleye 1971) suggests a tradition spanning only three to four genera-
tions, or dating from circa 1850. No dates are available for the origin of
Gelede in Emado, but an Efe song suggests that performances began
there after the towns of Joga (or Jiga) and Ibara had already instituted it,
probably some time after 1825:"

He [Efe singer] asks, where did Gelede originate?

He asks, whoever witnessed the origin come and say
E e! Jiga is the origin
Olubara is next to them
Whoever does not understand it
Can come and ask Apena
O ni bi Gelédé wony7ti se
O Veni ba soju e ko wa wi
Ee Jiga ni sele
Olubara lo kun won
B’eni tio ba ye sio
E wa b’Apena

Both Igan-Okoto and Aibo perform Gelede in a style consistent with

other northern Egbado towns such as Joga.
More significant for the history of Gelede in western Yorubaland is
the establishment of Ilaro, the major town on the Oyo trade route, and its
adoption of Gelede from the ancient Ketu town of Itolu, only a few miles
away. It will be remembered that Itolu is the town cited in Ilobi traditions
as a stopping point in their migrations from Ketu southward during the
reign of the second Alaketu. Ilaro people recognize the antiquity of Itolu,
acknowledging that it existed long before their forefather founded Ilaro.
Circa 1770-1789, a son of Alaafin Abiodun established Ilaro to oversee
Oyo’s new trade route through Egbado territory to Badagri (Morton-
Williams 1964a; Law 1977:113-115).'" Evidence of the historical in-
troduction of a new ruling authority from Oyo is suggested by the Ilaro
tradition that the Osata of Ilu Ata, the earlier authority, should never
come face to face with the Olu of Ilaro, the authority superimposed from
Oyo. A similar tradition existed, for similar reasons, that the Olu should
not come face to face with the Onisare of Ijanna (cf. Johnson 1921: 227).
According to sources in Joga, the forefather of Ilaro, Oronna, left Oyo
 234 GELEDE

together with the founder of Joga, Isaga, and Ibese, all of them children
of Alaafin Abiodun by the same mother.*’ Oronna is said to have
traveled far south—until his sacrifice sank into the water—through Ado
Odo, Hobi, and Awori country and then returned to settle on the present
site of Ilaro. This journey seems to correspond loosely with the trade
route.
Odua, tutelary deity of Gelede in Ketu, is also the deity of Gelede in
Itolu and Ilaro. During the annual Gelede festival, masqueraders used to
come out at Itolu before they appeared in Haro (Murray 1946), and in
the past Gelede masqueraders reportedly came out from the central
Odua shrine located in Itolu every eight days (Philip Allison 1950). In
addition to the major Odua shrine, those of many other Ketu Yoruba
gods and the graves of their priestesses line a road through the forest,
Boromu, Esu Panada, Babaluaiye (Soponnon), and so on. The quarters
of Ilaro responsible for Gelede are not the same as those that perform the
Oyo-related Egungun. Three quarters—Modeolu, Iu Ata, and Onola—
dominate Gelede in Ilaro; they maintain close ties with the ancient Ketu
town of Itolu, where the central Odua shrine is located. Thus, Ilaro
seems to have been settled in the latter part of the eighteenth century to
secure Oyo’s trade route to the coast, and it seems to have taken up and
continued Gelede practice as a result of its proximity to the Ketu settle-
ment of Itolu, which houses the central Gelede/Odua shrine.
The dispersal of Gelede then seems to have been a direct result of
Oyo’s trade route established in the latter part of the eighteenth century
and the subsequent large influx of people into the area, particularly from
Oyo, together with movements of Ketu people throughout the area in
response to trade. Populations shifted and realigned themselves for eco-
nomic reasons.
Evidence inherent in Gelede performance itself seems to support
this theory. Gelede as spectacle by its very nature is expensive and re-
quires a community’s combined resources to produce properly. It seems
likely then that it could have spread only during a period of prosperity.
Furthermore, performances of Gelede require a large number of per-
formers—singers, dancers, and others—all well versed in Gelede prac-
tice. A single individual may install a shrine to any Yoruba god in his
house and worship there regularly, but it would be impossible for him to
put on a Gelede spectacle alone. Gelede’s spread was contingent upon
large migrations of people, as was the case during the late eighteenth
century. The importance of the marketplace as the setting of Gelede and
the prevalence of images of marketwomen, foreigners, and foreign inno-
vations in the masks indeed suggest this period in western Yoruba his-
tory, when the trade route was flourishing. During prosperous times
when marketwomen and foreign traders, many of them Muslim, seemed
 A Historical and Thematic Overview
235

|/particularly powerful, it would not be surprising that a society of local

# men—primarily hunters and farmers—would devise a means of working
with the mothers for their own well-being.
The trade route and Ilaro figure prominently in Gelede’s further
spread into the coastal area. Gelede in Badagri shows historical links with
both Ilaro and Imala/Idofoi peoples. Seriki Abasi, an ex-slave with family
ties to Aibo and Idofoi who was adopted by a wealthy, childless merchant
in Badagri, is regarded as the founder of Aiyetoro (circa 1900), a town of
Imala/Idofoi peoples, among others (cf. Asiwaju 1976:98—100). A mask
called Onidofoi, collected at Badagri in 1946, is remarkably similar in
form to the Imala Onidofoi example (pl. 125). When informants at Aiyet-
oro were told of a similar mask at Badagri, they explained that it “was
brought [to Badagri] by Seriki Abasi .. . who came from Badagri” (Mur-
ray 1950), presumably some time between 1900 and 1919, the date of
Abasi’s death. The people of Iposuko, Badagri, however, say they
brought Gelede from Ilaro (Murray 1942). Furthermore, Ilado, Aina-
Agbo, Ibereko, and Mosafejo in Badagri area refer to their Gelede
societies as “Ilaro Awori,” while Mowo calls its own simply “Egbado”
(Murray 1942). The Ilaro migration to Badagri is probably a result of
Badagri’s rise as an important port (circa 1750-1825) about the time of
the founding of Ilaro. During the early period of Haro history, the Olu
controlled the trade route, but by circa 1820, Ilaro’s authority over the
southern end of the trade route was checked when the Alaafin placed
another political agent, the Onisare, in a town only a few miles from Ilaro
(Adewale 1949).”' It may be that the “Ilaro Awori”’ Gelede society was
carried to Badagri by Ilaro emigrants moving south along the trade route
late in the eighteenth century but before 1820, when Ilaro lost its author-
ity to the Onisare stationed in Ijanna (Adewale 1949). By 1942, Gelede
was dying out in Badagri.”
In Lagos, the Egbado-related Gelede society was allegedly estab-
lished during the first quarter of the nineteenth century, approximately
the same time as it seems to have been introduced into Badagri. A de-
tailed letter from a titled elder in the Egbado Gelede society, Lagos (Bey-
ioku 1946), states that “Chief D. C. Taiwo, the Olofin of Isheri.. .
introduced the Gelede Cult into Lagos,” and a petition from the same
society (Beyioku 1943) places this introduction “during the reign of Oba
Eshinlokun.” The dates of Esinlokun’s reign, according to Talbot
(1969:86-87) and Law (1968), are 1820-1829."
Further evidence suggests that Gelede at Iseri has Ilaro origins. Bey-
ioku notes that members call themselves Omo Oron-nas (“children of
Oronna”), a reference to the descendents of the founding father of Ilaro,
Oronna.” The Petition cited above from the Egbado Gelede Society,
Lagos, states that Gelede was performed at Onola Isale Gangan, Lagos, a
 236 GELEDE
place name perhaps deriving from Onola quarter, Ilaro, where Gelede ts
also performed. Finally, Murray (1946) records that the head of the
Gelede society at Lagos is called Gbondu, a unique Gelede title, which
occurs, as far as we know, in only one other town, Ilaro.
These details taken together suggest that Ilaro and the trade route
were instrumental in the introduction of Gelede to the coast. Indeed, it is
in Ilaro/Itolu down through Awori country and in Lagos that the Efe
headdress is a traylike form, called ate Efe (pls. 31, 44, 45).
More recent dispersals of Gelede occurred in Ibarapa area and also
along the western border of Nigeria. The introduction of Gelede into
Ibarapa seems to date to the early twentieth century, particularly in Igbo-
Ora, Lanlate, and Idere. Evidence in Igbo-Ora claims Gelede was ob-
tained from the Idofoi/Imala peoples (Murray 1940; 1960). Igberekodo
and Pako quarters, which perform Gelede together, claim that it came
from Amala (Imala) people. The same account was given independently
at Imala (Adeleye 1971). A third quarter, Olurin, attributes its Gelede to
Aiyetoro and performs for the deity Onidofoi. This would connect it
directly with Idofoi and Imala quarters of Aiyetoro, since those are the
only two that worship Onidofoi, and would also place its introduction in
Olurin as the early twentieth century, since Aiyetoro was established only
around 1900. In addition, one of the principal masqueraders is Ogede,
the gorilla (Murray 1940), which is an Egbado—more specifically Atye-
toro, Imala, Kesan, and Ibara—phenomenon (pls. 139, 140). In Lanlate,
further north in Ibarapa country, three quarters perform Gelede. One
quarter, Oketagbo, cites Meko as the source, while Isale-Logun obtained
Gelede from Imala (Murray 1948). The third quarter, Oke-Otun, claims
to have begun to perform Gelede only in 1913, but there is no mention of
the source (Nigerian Museum Archives 1960). Another Ibarapa town,
Idere, say its Gelede came from Altyetoro and is performed for Onidofoi
(Murray 1948). Since both Olurin quarter in Igbo-Ora and Idere identify
Gelede with Onidofoi and Aiyetoro, its origins can be more precisely
identified with the Idofoi or Imala peoples and can be dated some time
after 1900, that is, after the founding of Aiyetoro. Thus these two places
in Ibarapa and Oke-Otun Quarter, Lanlate, can be securely dated to the
early twentieth century.
A number of other towns where Gelede appears to be fairly recent
have been identified by Asiwaju (1976) as refugee centers near the Nige-
rian border, where there was a large influx of Dahomean Yoruba fleeing
French conscription policies. These towns include [io (cf. Harper 1970),
Egua, and Igbobi Sabe, Lagos. Traditions in Egua say that the town’s
founder was an Oyo prince who migrated via Ketu during the reign of
Alaketu) Adebiya (circa 1816-1853) (Folayan 1967:20; Parrinder
1967:100). However, Murray (1946) learned in Egua that its Gelede soci-
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 234

ety originated in Pobe—just a few miles west on the other side of the
Benin border. This claim is supported by the fact that Gelede in Egua
honors Pobe’s founding forefather, Ondo (cf. M. T. Drewal 1975). It is
significant that Egua, having arrived in the area very late (1816-1853)
from Oyo, required permission from the Alaketu to settle, yet Gelede
seems to have been introduced even more recently by people from Pobe,
perhaps fleeing French conscription policies (cf. Asiwaju 1976).
Gelede’s early, and rapid, spread thus seems to be a result of Ketu’s
cultural influence and Oyo’s relatively brief economic impact on western
Yorubaland. The spread of this artistic phenomenon probably continued
throughout the nineteenth century, though perhaps more slowly after
1830 because of the disruptions of war.” In the twentieth century,
Gelede extended to Ibarapa from northern Egbado areas, primarily
from Imala and Idofoi, and probably to western Nigeria from Benin.
The geographical extent of Gelede, at least through the first half of
the nineteenth century, is confined significantly to Oyo’s former trade
corridor. Its boundaries correspond to the limits of the movements and
migrations of Ketu, Egbado, and Awori peoples throughout western
Yorubaland for purposes of trade and, later on, for protection from the
incursions of the Fon from the west and the Egba from the east who were
out to capture western Yoruba peoples for the slave trade. Sandwiched
between two hostile enemies from the second quarter of the nineteenth
century, the peoples who perform Gelede were essentially restricted to
the boundaries of their own territory for protection. This situation effec-
tively confined Gelede to western Yorubaland.

Gelede and Related Masquerades in Ijebu, Lagos, and among the Fon
Gelede’s history would be incomplete without a consideration of its
cultural and artistic relationships to masquerades in other areas. The
Ijebu Yoruba masquerade cult known as Agbo (Magbo), or Ekine, pays
homage to Olokun, goddess of the sea, and a host of water spirits (cf.
Okesola 1967; de la Burde 1973:30-32). Derived from the Ijo Ekine
masking society of the western Delta, Agbo masks vary from the Ijo type
of highly stylized, horizontally oriented cap headdresses to those with a
strongly Yoruba, and more specifically Gelede, style (pls. 151, 152). The
clearest artistic interactions between Agbo and Gelede occur in western
and coastal Ijebu communities with close ties to Lagos, where some carv-
ing workshops make masks for both societies. See, for example, masks
from the same workshop carved for the Agbo society in Ijebuland (pl.
151) and the Ketu Gelede society in Lagos (color plate 9).
A brief comparison of Agbo and Gelede reveals some interesting
parallels. Human fertility is a concern in both Agbo and Gelede; in Agbo,
 238 GELEDE

PLATE 151. Similar in form to Gelede masks are those of Agbo,

used in Ijebu area and eastward along the coast. Nigerian
Museum, Lagos (57.25.14 and b).

special children known as Molokun (Omo Olokun, literally “Children of

the Goddess of the Sea”) are thought to have come into the world
through the intercession of the water spirits. Agbo masquerades repre-
sent these water spirits. Like Gelede, annual Agbo festivals in ljebu come
just before the rains, and a herald masquerade, known as Okooro, ap-
pears several weeks in advance to announce the festival date (pl. 152).
Although this Agbo herald’s mask can be mistaken for Gelede, the cos-
tume is quite distinct. It is made of tightly woven mats. Certain other
Agbo headdresses are also similar to those of Gelede, and the costumes
that adorn them, like those at Lagos, consist of layers of rich cloth, which
cover a woven fish trap to produce enormous buttocks. Also as in Lagos,
their dance evokes the grace of corpulent women and terminates with a
sudden off-balance spin during which attendants catch the dancers to
prevent them from falling. Whereas Gelede traditionally dance in pairs,
Agbo perform in threes, carrying whisks and wooden paddlelike blades,
which they strike on leg rattles made from seed pods (pl. 153).
The themes of Olokun, water spirits, and fertility in both Agbo and
Gelede and the coastal trading networks linking Lagos with Ijebu and the
Delta may account for many of the artistic similarities observable in these
two masking traditions. The precise nature of their convergence must
await further investigation.
A Historical and Thematic Overview
239

PLATE 152. This Okooro masquerader announces the beginning

of the Agbo masquerade festival. His headdress bears a striking
resemblance to many Gelede masks. Ijebuland, Odomola, 1982.
 240 GELEDE

PLATE 153. An Ijebu Agbo

masquerader, whose costume
resembles that of Gelede, performs
at an annual festival. Akio, 1982.

In Ijora, Lagos, masks used in performances called Ejiwa show strik-

ing similarity to Gelede headdresses. Ejiwa performances, which usually
occur between March and May, or about one month before the Gelede
festival, honor Elegbara. They are performed for the Idéjé6, or white-
capped chiefs of Lagos, who trace their ancestry to the Egbado town of
Iseri and its ruler, the Olofin (Smith 1969:92). The masqueraders, about
six, wear a massive costume of raffia strips (?ko) attached to the masks.
They appear from behind a palm leaf curtain when summoned by a
priest shaking an iron bell. Murray (1940) photographed a mask, “a bird
with a human face, long beak and human hands... holding an axe anda
staff with a bird on the top” (pl. 154), which shows striking similarities
with the spirit bird forms in Gelede.”’
A lesser-known aspect of Gelede history is its dispersal to certain Fon
communities in Benin (Bay 1974). Among the Fon at Cove, the night
masquerade singer, Oro Efe, sings in Yoruba and has his words
translated into Fon during the performance. The nocturnal ritual also
includes the most sacred of all Gelede forms, the mask for the Great
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 241

PLATE 154. An Ejiwa mask similar

to Gelede in form and iconography
is used in ceremonies honoring
Elegbara and is associated with the
white cap chiefs of Lagos. Nigerian
Museum archives (neg. nos. 7.12.4
and 5).

Mother, lyanla (pl. 2). Her movement, costuming, and mask type are
identical to Great Mother masks found in the contiguous areas of Ketu,
Ohori, and Anago. Another nocturnal masquerade wears a stark white
janus headdress that fuses human and bird images into one and recalls
the spirit bird masks of Egbado.

Gelede in Other Yoruba Communities

Historical events in the early part of the nineteenth century in
Yorubaland had a profound impact upon the spread of Gelede in two
ways. First, disruptions caused by the decline of the Oyo Empire were
detrimental to the spread of the society beyond the formerly Oyo-
controlled trade route through Egbado. Second, this political upheaval
was accompanied by extensive slave raiding activities, much of it in west-
ern Yorubaland, in which captives were sold to European slavers on the
coast. Some captives were freed by the British and landed at Freetown,
Sierra Leone, where between 1822 and 1840 they swelled the ranks of
liberated slaves in the colony. It was not long before the predominantly
Yoruba communities in Freetown, Hastings, and Waterloo established
the cults of Egungun, Oro, Sango, Agemo, Ogun, and Gelede (Peterson
1969). As early as 1837, one observer of a Gelede masquerade recorded
that
one of them, who was dancing for the amusement of the company
surrounding him, was partly dressed in women’s clothes, with a
 242 GELEDE

wooden mask of rather ingenious make, representing a human head

covered with a helmet, which had for a crest, a snake in the act of
killing a bird... . [Warburton 1837:423 cited in Nunley 1981:54].
By the second half of the nineteenth century, these Yoruba societies had
also spread to the Susu, Mandinka, Temne, and Creole groups. Accord-
ing to a Freetown missionary newspaper (Methodist Herald, 1883), Gelede
originated among the Aku and so-called Popo groups. It was described as
“innocent and amusing, it danced about in the likeness of a female with
grotesque breasts.” The name Popo was ascribed to the liberated slaves
who had sailed from the slaving port of Grand Popo in Dahomey. ‘They
were almost certainly Yoruba from Ketu and Egbado areas sold by the
Fon. Thus Gelede spread from its original home to a new one on the
West African coast.
Information collected from a number of Sierra Leoneans of Yoruba
ancestry leaves no doubt about the society’s survival in its new home. One
informant (Robinson 1972), whose grandmother was the head of Gelede
in Freetown, described numerous details common to Gelede in Nigeria:
the use of an iron gong by the female leader, the society’s concern with
birth and fertility, the control exercised by female elders, and the use of
cloth to cover the masquerader to depict a woman. Another informant
(Akinsulure 1972), whose grandparents were prominent elders in the
Waterloo, or Akutown, Gelede society, described an annual festival in
which performers using a mask with a cloth tied around its rim, wrappers
over the body, enlarged hips, wooden breastplate, and leg rattles, would
come out in pairs.
The same historical events that led to the establishment of Gelede in
Sierra Leone also fostered its emergence in the New World, specifically in
Cuba and Brazil. In Cuba the introduction of a substantial number of
Yoruba (Lucumi) dates from approximately 1800. Until 1763 there were
not many slaves in Cuba, since many of them were resold from the British
Islands of Jamaica and Grenada at exorbitant prices and high import
duties. Cuba did not have its own outlet on the West African coast until
1778, and it was not until 1792 that slaves came directly to Cuba on a
Spanish ship (Aimes 1967 [1907]: 36-56). While the introduction oflarge
numbers of slaves was late, it continued until about 1865 (Verger
1964a:369). When Gelede began is uncertain, but most probably it was in
the first half of the nineteenth century. Fernando Ortiz (1906:71—72, fig.
18) published a mask with the figure of a bird as superstructure, which he
compared to works from Dahomey illustrated in Rutzel (1888) but attri-
buted to the Congo. It is probably Yoruba-derived, most likely a Gelede
mask, as Thompson (1971:ch. 14/pl. 3) has suggested. Ortiz (1951:347;
1952:III, 412) also described elaborate feasts for Olokun, who is as-
sociated with Gelede in Cuba along with Yemoja. These feasts, known as
 A Historical and Thematic Overview 243

“Easter of the Blacks,” recall Easter Gelede performances in Sierra Leone

and Lagos. The performance format and costuming described by Ortiz
show remarkable similarities with Gelede practice, especially in Egbado
and Lagos areas.
A record of Gelede in Brazil is preserved in both oral traditions and
sculpture. Between 1807 and 1825 massive numbers of Yoruba, probably
the majority from Ketu and other western Yoruba groups, were brought
to the northeastern Brazilian city of Salvador (Turner 1975), where the
first Yoruba-derived cult house, Ile Iya Naso, was founded about 1830.
The date of the first Gelede performance is uncertain, but Carneiro
(1954:49) tells of one Maria Julia Figueiredo of Ile Iya Naso, who had the
title of Iyalode Erelu and who enjoyed great prestige among black Sal-
vadorans because of the festivals of “gheledes (mascaras)” (Gelede masks)
that she held on December 8 at Boa Viagem (Salvador). Others have
added to this brief but important account and in the process have re-
vealed other dimensions of Gelede practice in Brazil. According to Didi
dos Santos (1967:44—45) and Juana dos Santos (1976:115), Maria Fi-
gueiredo, whose Yoruba name was Omonike, was the daughter of Iya
Naso and goddaughter of Obatosi, Marcelina da Silva, the first head of
Ile Iya Naso. They confirm that until the death of Omonike, circa 1940,
Gelede festivals were held on December 8, the day of Our Lady of the
Immaculate Conception of the Beach, which “is associated with Osun” (a
river goddess)* and, more important, that this is also the date when
Onile and the “Iya Mi” (the mothers) are worshipped. Thus two accounts
corroborate the presence of Gelede in Salvador and its links with female
spiritual powers, whether a river goddess, Osun (as in some areas of
western Yorubaland), the mothers (as in all areas), or Onilé, the guiding
presence of Osugbo societies.
A number of Gelede masks add a further dimension to this fascinat-
ing history.2? After Omonike’s death, some masks remained at Ile Iya
Naso and others went to another Yoruba cult house (candomblé), Ase Opo
Afonja, where they were worn by the Babalawo QOjelade, Martiliano
Eliseu of Bomfin (dos Santos 1967:45).°° Despite the demise of the cult,
several masks still survive. One (pl. 155) is distinguished by its delicacy of
line and form, and it and another (pl. 156) show stylistic similarities with
nineteenth-century works from the area of Ota, Awori, north of Lagos
(pl. 93). The morphology, shape, and position of the eye and the struc-
ture of the elongated head and the thrusting chin are analogous. How-
ever, they differ from the Ota masks in the more simplified ear form and,
most dramatically, in the shallowly carved interior. The latter may be
explained by the report that the masks were worn in front of the face
rather than on top of the head (dos Santos 1967:45). These changes in
style and pattern of use suggest that these masks may have been carved in
 244

PLATE 155. The style of this Gelede

mask in Brazil is remarkably simi-
lar to that of Awori. Didi and
Juana dos Santos Collection.

PLATE 156. The shallow interiors

of a number of Brazilian Gelede
masks suggest that they were worn
more as face masks than as
helmets. Didi and Juana dos Santos
Collection.
 A Historical and Thematic Overview
245

PLATE 157. The naturalistic style

of the ear in this Gelede mask
fragment from Brazil closely
resembles coastal Ijebu work. Didi
and Juana dos Santos Collection.

Brazil by an artist of Awori origin.*! In a final example, only the fineness

of the carefully rendered and highly naturalistic ear preserves the former
glory of the piece (pl. 157). Such realism suggests a coastal Ijebu origin
for the Afro-Brazilian creator of this piece (cf. pl. 151). While many Afro-
Brazilian ritual forms were used in new ways to serve new needs, the
convergence of Onile, zya mi, Apaoka, Osun (and Yemogja) with festivals
of “Ghelede masks” suggests that Gelede as practiced in Yorubaland
survived for a time in Brazil.

Conclusions

The various economic and political factors that had their origins in
the Oyo Empire and developed in western Yorubaland, beginning circa
1775 with Alaafin Abiodun’s rise to power, appear to have created a
social climate that fostered the creation and expansion of Gelede. The
Ketu kingdom, whose cultural and political authority in the area had
never been questioned, suddenly was affected by the expansionist
policies of Oyo, whose economic, political, and military presence rapidly
 246 GELEDE
expanded along Ketu’s eastern boundary in Egbado, encroaching on
Ketu territory. Ketu, unable to respond in any overtly aggressive or mili-
tary manner against Oyo power, possibly asserted its authority through
the Gelede institution. Moulero collected a myth that links the origins of
Efe with a succession dispute at Ketu, where a ruse or joke solved a
political matter. This is not very different from the way in which Efe
songs curse, ridicule, criticize, and condemn antisocial actions to resolve
specific communal problems. Sanctioned by the all powerful mothers, the
perspectives on society espoused by Gelede performances have the au-
thority of law. Therefore, performances of Gelede might have been the
most politically astute means for Ketu peoples to exert authority indi-
rectly in a basically Oyo-dominated setting. In a sense, pan-Yoruba con-
cepts about the powers of the mothers, the owners of the world, allowed
Ketu peoples, using the institution of Gelede, to balance to some extent
the impact of Oyo in the area. Thus, Gelede spectacle as an otherworldly
phenomenon served periodically to reevaluate and shape the world. With
the combined economic and spiritual power of women, the Gelede soci-
ety of the Ketu people spread rapidly throughout western Yorubaland to
the Oyo immigrants newly stationed along the trade routes in Egbado,
Anago, and Awori areas. Then, as Oyo’s power waned in the area and
many Yoruba were sold into slavery and carried from their homeland,
Gelede sprang up in new homes in West Africa and the New World,
taking with it the ideals of patience and indulgence, which it embodies, as
alternative approaches for peacefully managing their new-found situa-
tions. In Freetown, Sierra Leone, Gelede seems to have thrived; however,
in Brazil and Cuba, where women maintain positions of power in African
derived cults up to the present and where slavery continued late into the
nineteenth century, only vestiges of what can be precisely identified as
Gelede spectacle remain.
 Gelede and the Indiwidual

Individual participants shape Gelede practice to reflect their own con-

cerns, situations, or aesthetic preferences. It is our belief that the creative
elements within Yoruba spectacle, the contributions of art and of indi-
viduals, ultimately change the basic ritual structure itself, making it dy-
namic rather than static and thus diversifying Gelede practice through-
out western Yorubaland. If one tries to interpret the form and content of
Gelede without knowing the personal lives of its participants, one per-
ceives a static, generalized view of Gelede spectacle. Likewise, examining
individuals and their personal histories without an overview of Gelede
spectacle would be equally unsatisfactory, producing a fragmented view
of the Gelede phenomenon. Viewing both facets will produce a more
complete and realistic picture, one that illustrates the dynamics of
Yoruba religion and the relationships between art and the individual,
between cultural norms and individuality, and between history and diver-
sity.

Yoruba Religion
Yoruba religious practice depends on two factors, descent and divi-
nation. In combination they produce a very fluid religious system. De-
scent provides continuity; divination, in contrast, opens up the system to
countless possibilities. In the following case studies of individuals and
their Gelede activities we see the interaction of these two factors, the
dynamic context they produce, and the processes that shape Gelede in
particular places and lead to diversity in practice.
It will be recalled that the central Egbado town of Ilaro (see map
p. xxiv) is associated historically and culturally with Ketu and Oyo, a combi-
nation that is reflected in the religious life of the community. The quar-

247
 248 GELEDE
ters that consist largely of lineages that identify with Oyo are responsible
for the Egungun masquerade (basically an Oyo institution); those with
ties to the former Ketu kingdom dominate the Gelede society. Three
quarters in Ilaro—Modeolu, Iluata, and Onola—share responsibility for
various aspects of the society, its arts, and its performances. Gelede titles
are distributed more or less equally among the three quarters. Two of
them have a masquerader known as Esu Gbangbade, who announces the
coming of the annual festival as well as closes the Efe night portion of that
festival. Modeolu Quarter is responsible for the night bird mother mas-
querade, Eye Oro (cf. pl. 3), which sanctions the performance of Efe
songs; while Iluata Quarter controls the mother mask that “closes” the
festival, Iya Odua (pl. 148). During the course of the festival, sacrificial
ceremonies (etutu) for the masks and participants of the Gelede lineages
in each of the quarters take place on specified days. On these particular
occasions it becomes apparent how the histories of individuals, families,
and their ritual objects have shaped the society’s perception of the mean-
ings and functions of Gelede.
One Modeolu Quarter lineage, which performs its own sacrificial rite
on the third day of the festival, traces its origins to Ketu territory and
views its participation in Gelede as intimately linked with other powerful
forces—sacred twins (ibeji), the god of iron (Ogun), and the god of thun-
der (Sango). The family’s traditional ritual objects are gathered for a
purification rite and cooling (etutu) by their elderly caretaker, Adeogun
(pl. 158). These Gelede masks and twin figures are intimately related to
the history and life of this woman and her lineage, which traces its origins
to a forefather, Ojo. According to family traditions, Ojo migrated from
the upper Yewa River valley town of Oke Odo, in Ketu Yoruba territory,
to Haro, in the Egbado area, six generations ago, or circa 1795. His title,
Olori Agberu, identifies him as head of the Gelede masqueraders and
worshipper of Odua, the goddess associated with Gelede in Ilaro. It is not
recalled whether Ojo worshipped other deities in addition to Odua, but
other deities appear in the next generation, perhaps as the result of
divination or perhaps through Ojo’s wives’ lineages. Ogun Akogbona,
son of Ojo, worshipped Odua and Gelede, Ogun, and Sango. An old
Gelede mask carefully preserved within the family compound was his (pl.
159). It is called Oluwaiye (literally “Owner of the World”), a praise name
for Gelede and the mothers. The mask is simple yet dramatic in its
iconography.
The headdress depicts a male with a distinctive hairstyle, the head
shaven except for an oval tuft on the crown. In Yoruba belief and ritual
practice, the tuft marks the place where incisions, are made and
“medicines” are inserted to prepare an individual’s head, more precisely
his “inner,” or spiritual, head to receive supernatural forces (cf. M. T.
 Gelede and the Individual
249

PLATE 158. Gelede masks and twin figures gathered together

for a rite of purification by their elderly caretaker document the
interaction of various lineage traditions. Ilaro, 1978.

Drewal 1977). The descendants of Ogun Akogbona explain that the tuft
depicted in this mask is unique to Gelede or Odua worshippers. It may
look like tufts worn by the devotees of Yoruba deities and others, but
each is “prepared” differently, that is, with different spiritual ingre-
dients. The male represented by this Gelede mask has a tuft prepared for
Odua, like the person who used it during his lifetime, Ogun Akogbona.
The correlation between the imagery of the mask and the life of its
owner has become even stronger since the death of Akogbona. With the
passage of time, the mask’s roles have changed. It has come to represent
the spiritual presence of the forefather. When it broke many years ago, it
changed from a masquerade headdress to an altarpiece for the lineage
and the town. At annual celebrations, the mask serves as a focus for
worship. It receives offerings, elaborate praises, and prayers as part of a
sacrifice (etutu ilu), literally “cooling the town,” to ensure prosperity and
peace in the lineage and the community.
The Oluaiye mask also ensures the active participation of Ogun
Akogbona’s descendants in their inherited ritual obligations. The mask,
 PLATE 159. A retired mask represents the forefather and serves
as the centerpiece for the household shrine. Ilaro, 1978.

i.e., Akogbona, surrounded by images for departed twins, or his “chil-

dren,” is carried by female lineage members to Gelede performances,
where they dance with the masqueraders from their compound (pl. 160).
From the elders’ point of view, the public appearance and participation
of Oluaiye and the twin figures compel all lineage members—living and
departed—to attend the ceremonies. As one explained, “Family members
will come from here and there to help their father during the festival, so
peace (etutu) will come to the town.”
Ogun Akogbona gave birth to several children, among them twins.
Sacrifices prescribed by Ifa were prepared and offered to the spirit of
twins to allow the twins to remain in the world, but the firstborn, Ebo,
died soon after birth (pl. 158). A memorial figure was carved for her and
cared for over the years. To decorate and beautify the form, the head has
been washed, oiled, and rubbed, the hair dyed, and the body enhanced
with various strands of beads about the waist (one strand carved) and
neck. Her white beads and lead bracelet (a/é) signify Odua, the tutelary
deity of Gelede and an important lineage divinity. :
The second twin was called Orisadi because of special circumstances
surrounding his birth. The name indicates that he was born in the
 Gelede and the Individual
251

FEEP.RI:’®UNSS:

PLATE 160. A woman dances with a masquerader from her

compound while balancing an enamel basin containing a Gelede
mask and twin figures representing departed lineage members.
Ilaro, 1978.

placenta (6ké). Lineage members recall this event by saying, “The sack
tied by the gods cannot be untied by anyone” (Oké ti orisa di omo ar’aiyé 6 le
tu), to explain that it is a sign from the gods that needs interpretation. A
child born with a caul usually has affinities with masquerading; the event
is most auspicious, given the importance of Gelede to Orisadi’s grand-
father and father. *
The twin figure representing Orisadi is quite different in both style
 252 GELEDE

and age from its mate. Orisadi lived long and fathered several children.
When he died, Ebo was consulted by a diviner to learn whether she (.e.,
her image) should be buried with her brother. Ebg said no, that instead
another image for Orisadi should be commissioned to keep her company.
Since Orisadi lived to old age, the date of creation is probably circa 1895,
or 60 years after the death of Ebo, when her own memorial figure was
carved. These two figures, together with most of the others, represent the
generations of twins born into the lineage of Ogun Akggbona. Orisadi in
particular is important to Gelede, not only because he was born in a caul
but also because he was a Gelede participant, the forefather who passed
the tradition and the authority to perform Gelede on to his children and
his children’s children.
The caretaker of the twins and the old Gelede mask, Adeogun, is the
granddaughter of Orisadi and the great granddaughter of Ogun Akog-
bona. She is one of the few in her family still willing to maintain her
religious traditions. She holds a position in the Ogboni society, inherited
from a daughter of her grandfather’s brother. She also holds the senior
female title in the Gelede society—lyalaja, “Mother-of-the-Sacred-Rattle”
(the rattle being the symbol of her authority). Because of her age and
positions, other priests of Yoruba gods seek out her attendance at their
festivals.
Various strands in this lineage history come together during the
annual Gelede celebration for family and community gods. Rites for
twins, Sango, Ogun, and especially Gelede (Odua) are performed and
ritual objects are renewed to demonstrate commitment to the ancestors.
Newly carved Gelede masks shine with bright enamel paints. The circular
Efe headdress of Ilaro is given new paint, cloth, and mirrors; and the hair
of lineage twins and the head and lineage marks of Ogun Akogbona’s
ancient mask are darkened with rich indigo dye. The elderly caretaker’s
symbol of authority, the aaa or sacred double rattle, lies in her lap. The
shrines for Ogun and Sango are close by in the corner of the room.
Memorial figures for departed twin lineage members stand together with
Gelede images of the past and present, demonstrating the interactions of
sacred arts as expressions of lineage dynamics. As lineage members ex-
plain, “The orsa of Gelede and twins is the same.” Annual rites for the
spirit of twins in this lineage occur as part of the Gelede festival.
In the adjoining quarter of Iluata, another lineage important in the
Gelede society possesses different divinities and ritual objects and, as a
result, different worship patterns. This family, Ile Omeseun Babayinde,
is responsible for the preparation and performance of Iya Odua, the
goddess/ priestess masquerader who closes the annual Gelede festival (pl.
148). The Omoseun lineage also honors the spirit of twins and
Esu/Elegba, yet the perceived relationship of these divinities is different
 Gelede and the Individual 253

from that of the descendants of Ojo. Three generations of twins are

represented in the house. Their births and deaths are linked directly with
the intercession of Esu/Elegba and only indirectly with Gelede. A great
grandmother, Ilo, gave birth to many children who died young. It was
learned through divination that she had to take up the worship of Elegba
if her children were to remain in the world, and this she did. Esu’s direct
involvement with the birth and death of twins in this family is recorded in
the juxtaposition of a carved wristlet with cowrie shells for Esu/Elegba
and memorial figures of the departed twins of the lineage in the same
calabash. Elaborate prayers and offerings attend Gelede rites in this
household. As representations of lineage members, the twin memorial
figures are carried along with the symbol of their deity, Esu/Elegba, to
the marketplace to attend Gelede performances. This was particularly
important at one Efe funeral commemoration, for it was essential that the
departed twins, as members of the lineage, be present when one of their
mates was honored.
Other individuals and their sacred images tell different stories.
Members of the Bambose family of Iluata Quarter, Ilaro, are active in
two spheres—those of Ogun (god of hunting, iron, and war) and of
Gelede. Therefore they commemorate Ogun in the superstructures of
their Gelede masks (pl. 52). Massive images of equestrian warriors and
hunters evoke their past accomplishments, while those of motorcyclists
demonstrate their continued involvement with iron and Ogun, for pro-
fessional drivers and those who use the roads are frequently Ogun wor-
shippers (cf. Barnes 1980). In addition to being Gelede dancers,
Bambose lineage members hold the title of Elefe Aponle (literally “flat-
terers of Efe”), for they traditionally escort the Oro Efe singers to the
market, firing their guns in salute, praise, and protection for the per-
formers. The loud report of their weapons punctuate Oro Efe’s verbal
texts, lending dramatic emphasis to his voiced power.
Similar circumstances occur in the compound of the Olori Agberu,
the Head of the Costumers for the Gelede society. Ogun and Gelede
come together in his lineage shrine (pl. 161). Olori Agberu is also Olori
Olode, that is, Head of the Hunters. During annual festivals for Ogun,
the deity becomes manifest in the world by means of possession trance,
mounting the head of Olori Olode, and on the final day of the Ogun
festival, an Egungun of the Hunters (Eegun Olode), emerges from his
shrine wearing a platform mask displaying a number of spirits and ani-
mals. During Gelede festivals Olori Olode places all his Gelede masks on
the Ogun shrine in his compound. The scene is the “cooling” rite (etutw)
for the ritual forms in his compound. His Gelede society title is clearly
written on the forehead of one of the masks, while in the corner of the
room is the shrine for his ancestors and Ogun.
 PLate 161. A Gelede society member, who is also head of the
hunters, has placed his masks on the shrine to the god of
hunters, Ogun. Ilaro, 1978.

Others proclaim their contribution to society with representations of

themselves. A priestess of the goddess Are, with ritual fan, iron rattle,
bracelets of beads, and white blouse, mirrors the representation of an
Are priestess in the superstructure of the mask (pl. 162). The water pot
on the head of the carved figure refers to the water from the sacred
stream of the goddess, used during propitiations or cooling rites. The
priestess and the masquerade honoring her, together with a crowd of
friends and supporters, parade to the market, where the masquerader
performs.
Another Gelede mask depicts an Egungun masquerader with attend-
ant (pl. 163). Its owner, Andele, is active in both the Gelede and the
Egungun masking societies, serving as Alaagba, the spiritual head of the
latter. In addition he is a practicing Muslim. His various religious obliga-
tions merge in this Gelede headdress. The figures above represent an
Egungun masquerader of the elébiti/alagd type attended by a servant of
the society (drt, literally “the one with marks on the head”) holding a
ritually prepared whip or isan (cf. Drewal and Drewal 1978). The field of
white dots on the platform, like the white cowrie shells on the face netting
of the Egungun masker, suggest the spirit qualities of the “being from
Gelede and the Individual 255

PLATE 162. A priestess of the deity Are is accompanied by a

masquerader who honors her by depicting her ritual role. Ilaro,
1978.
 aae GELEDE

PLATE 163. The head of the

Egungun masquerade society, who
is also. a member of the Gelede
society and a Muslim, 1s honored
with a mask depicting an Egungun
on top of a turban-wrapped head.
Sawonjo, 1978.

beyond” (ard drun). Below, the main head communicates another reli-
gious sphere, that of Allah, in the striped turban wraps and beard of
Muslim fashions.
These examples demonstrate personal concerns expressed in Gelede
masks and show how these concerns diversify Gelede practice and con-
tent. Another example illustrates how this diversity extends to form and
style. It involves Lawani Ojo, who returned to the homestead of his
ancestors in order to obtain a mask that reflects his roots and introduce it
into his new home. As a young man, Lawani’s father was told through
divination that he should leave Ohori in order to prosper and to father
many children. He resettled in Imasai, took an Egbado wife there, and
reared his children. Lawani thus grew up in Imasai, and when he became
an Efe singer, following in his father’s tradition, he returned to his
father’s subgroup, Ohori, and commissioned a headdress typical of that
area (pl. 164). His introduction of the Ohori-style Efe mask, known as
apasa, into an Egbado community, was quite acceptable, since he was a
son of the community on his mother’s side, but he is also expected to
follow the traditions of his father. In this example, not only is the source
of the carving outside the locale of the participant but also the form and
style of the mask are unique to the area where it is worn.
Gelede and the Ind wt idual
257

x
{ we
ee

PLATE 164 An Ohori sty le Efe mask used in an Egbado

community 1illustr ates traveling styles and cultur ral change
 25,8 GELEDE

Patron/ Artist Interaction

The histories of individuals and families, as we have seen, explain to

a large extent how and why certain images and ritual forms merge and
how they are perceived and interpreted by those who may have commis-
sioned, inherited, or acquired them. But art users are not the only ones
involved in these decisions, for the work is the result of interactions, or
even misunderstandings, between patrons and artists as well as decisions
made during the creative process itself.
With Gelede’s emphasis on spectacle, it is not surprising that its
society members are important patrons of artists in western Yorubaland.
Any member ofthe society, male or female, may commission work from a
sculptor, although generally the older members, lineage heads or title-
holders, make commissions. They initiate the agreement by approaching
one or more carvers, sometimes far in advance of anticipated perfor-
mances, but usually several months before annual/biennial festivals.
Other commissions, for a particular performance, such as at a funeral
commemoration, are given just before the occasion and often involve
clearly defined requirements, such as headdresses honoring the departed
(piss 1255 024).
Gelede patrons rely on local talent, as well as on carvers from other
towns. Clients often travel to towns with reputations as carving centers in
order to commission work. In Ilaro, Egbado, a number of Gelede masks
were carved locally, but quite a few were done in distant towns in Anago,
Awori, and Ketu areas, thus producing a great mixture of styles and
images. Outside talent, especially for Gelede, may be preferred over local
artists so that patrons may enhance the spectacle with novel or unique
images that have not been seen in the area. Or in the case of Lawani, an
individual may introduce a new style by obtaining a mask in his forebears’
home (pl. 164).
Not infrequently carvers are “called” to come to the community that
is requesting the work. In 1975 the Anago carver Saibu Akinyemi of
Agosasa went to Ilaro, Egbado, to prepare masks for a Gelede festival.
For three months he worked under a blacksmith’s roof, producing a
series of headdresses for an important lineage in the Gelede society.
Under such an arrangement the artist receives food and accommodation
in addition to his fee.
Another factor contributing to diversity is the migration of carvers,
who move to other communities or subgroups on the advice of diviners
or as a direct result of their carving practice. Relatives of Alaiye Adeisa
Etuobe, a renowned Ketu carver, are dispersed throughout western
Yorubaland, and a number of them perpetuate a distinct Ketu carving
tradition. Carving relatives and in-laws of Etuobe migrated to Sabe
 Gelede and the Individual 259

(north of Ketu), Idofa (just inside Nigeria), Igbogila, and Ajilete. Until
1978, Etuobe’s son, Adegbola Alaiye of Itaoba Quarter, Ketu, farmed
and lived part of the year in the northern Egbado town of Igbogila,
where he carved for local as well as distant societies in western Yoruba-
land. He traveled between Ketu and Igbogila regularly and maintained
his traditional Ketu carving style and repertoire of motifs. Adegbola’s son
(Etuobe’s grandson), who lives in Igbogila, does not carve but performs
Efe in a costume that is Ketu in style. His mask was carved by his grand-
father, Alaiye Etuobe (frontispiece). These circumstances have resulted
in a mixture of Ketu and Egbado elements in Gelede spectacles in Ig-
bogila.
Another source of Gelede carvings are itinerant artists (cf. H. J.
Drewal 1977b:8—g). Our own field data and those of K. C. Murray (Nige-
rian Museum Archives) document numerous instances of traveling car-
vers—many from Ketu—who worked in various Egbado communities in
this century. One of the most prolific and mobile carvers was the Ketu
master Atoba, whose work has been widely documented in Egbado, Ketu,
and Anago areas (pl. 117).

The Commission
Agreements between Yoruba patrons and artists vary greatly. At one
extreme, the artist alone makes the decision on iconography with no
input from patrons or clients, since almost anything can be depicted in
Gelede masks. One prolific sculptor simply turned out a large number of
masks with male and female themes, such as marketwomen, hairstyles,
head ties, and animals—images he thought were general enough and
popular enough to sell easily. At the other extreme, the most restrictive
commission is the replication of another mask. Often patrons will bring
old or broken masks to be copied. These replacements faithfully repro-
duce the iconography and sometimes even the style of the original. Of-
ten, however, patrons will define their requirements in broad terms (i.e.,
“two Gelede masks” or “two male masks”) and leave the specific imagery
to the artist’s imagination, especially if the artist, because of his “famos-
ity,’ as Yoruba put it, has a reputation for innovation and originality.
This was the case with Duga of Meko (cf. Bascom 1973). Open-ended
commissions seem to be more characteristic of Gelede than of the cults of
the deities, given the encouragement of new, exciting, enthralling, and
often shocking imagery in Gelede spectacles.
Probably the majority of commissions include both specific require-
ments as well as a certain amount of freedom for the artist, as happens
with the Efe singers and the Gelede dancers. The patron will probably
order a female headdress (abogi) or a male headdress (akogi) and give
some general suggestions for carrying out the theme, such as the sort of
 260 GELEDE

coiffure, fashion, or objects and/or figures in the superstructure. For

example, in Ilaro, the Iyalaja, “Mother-of-the-Sacred-Ritual-Rattle,”
commissioned a mask that would commemorate her role in the Gelede
society. She suggested to the carver that the superstructure show either a
female figure holding a rattle or a rattle balanced on a female head, in
imitation of the way Iyalaja often carries the rattle to performances. The
final design is often determined by financial considerations, for simple
motifs are easier to carve and less expensive than complex genre scenes
in superstructures.
One interesting commission involved a senior priest in the Sango
cult. While Sango was the principal divinity worshipped by his lineage, he
also participated actively in the Gelede society and wanted a mask that
would recognize his contribution to both groups. He traveled to the
Awori capital of Ota and gave a commission to the well-known Kilani
Olaniyan (last in a long line of famous Ota carvers). Obviously there was
a misunderstanding, for instead of depicting a Sango priest, the artist
sculpted a priestess, thus changing the headdress from male to female
(pl. 165). Although the patron was not pleased, he agreed to accept the
work and pay the fee. Why he did so is not clear, but several factors may
have influenced him: Both male and female devotees, when possessed by
the spirit of Sango, are known as “wives of Sango” (‘yawo Sango) and plait
their hair in feminine fashion. Furthermore, the other ritual symbols of
Sango—the double-bladed dance wand and the dance skirt—are com-
pletely correct. In addition, the patron was apparently able to personalize
the headdress and make it more appropriate by painting his god’s praise
name, Olukoso (“The-Ruler-of-Koso”), on the forehead, thus pro-
claiming his masculinity, royalty, and divinity simultaneously.

Creating Gelede Sculpture

Selecting the wood for an Efe or Gelede mask involves both practical
and spiritual considerations. The Cordia Millenii tree (6md) and the
Ricinodendron Africanum, or oilnut tree (er’nmado/apopo), are preferred
because their woods are light in weight, easily carved, and close-grained.
Their lightness makes them comfortable for dancing; their relative soft-
ness means they can be carved quickly, if necessary, before festivals or
special funeral commemorations; and the compact grain permits surface
details and patterning as well as intricately composed superstructures.
Durability is of secondary concern, since new Gelede and Efe masks can
be commissioned for each yearly or biennial festival.
The choice of wood for the sacred images of the noctural mothers,
Iyanla and Eye Oro, is quite another matter. According to one Ohori
sculptor (Olupona 1975), all community “elders” are responsible for pro-
 Gelede and the Individual 261

PLATE 165. This mask represents a

misunderstanding. The artist
mistakenly carved a female figure
instead of a male priest of Sango,
god of thunder and lightning,
which the patron intended. Ilaro,
1978.

viding the wood, which is regarded as a “rare” type (Owén). One source
identifies this “rare” wood as Chlorophora Excelsa (?r6k6), an enormous
tree that dominates the forest. Aside from its hardness and durability,
which make it suitable for long-term use, in contrast to many Gelede
masks, zroko is believed to be the abode of spirits associated with the
mothers and to serve as their nocturnal gathering place.
The wood, whether chosen for its physical or its spiritual properties,
must meet another requirement: It should be green (tutu), freshly cut
with the natural moisture present in the fibers. The tradition of working
in moist wood seems to be widespread in Africa and contrasts with wood-
carving procedures in Europe and elsewhere, where dried, seasoned
wood is used. The Yoruba sculptor often soaks the wood in water to keep
it moist throughout the carving period, explaining that it “makes the
 262 GELEDE

wood softer and the work easier.” The moisture has a lubricating effect
that makes the cutting easier and requires less-frequent blade sharpen-
ing. Working in green wood does not necessarily mean the piece will
check or split when it dries out. Yoruba artists know and avoid the woods
that tend to crack, and in the consistently high humidity, the slow drying
process usually prevents splitting.
Fresh wood may also be preferred for spiritual reasons, since trees
are living, growing entities. They possess vital force, or ase, of their own,
which makes them useful in the preparation of various types of
medicines and shrines. The sap is called ge igi, and runs red, like blood,
just underneath the bark in the trees used for Gelede masks. When a
carver cuts into fresh wood and metaphorically “sheds” its blood, his
action may be regarded as a sacrifice to the patron deity of carvers, Ogun.
An explicit reference to the sap of the tree as sacrifice occurs in Ogun
invocations (Olupona 1975):

Ogun of the blacksmith eats dog

Ogun of the tattooer takes human blood
Ogun of the carver consumes the sap of trees

Before the first cut of the axe or matchet pierces the bark of any tree,
the carver must invoke the tree’s spiritual residents (Ojo 1966:166—167).
An abbreviated divination ritual carried out with kola nuts follows the
invocations. The carver breaks a kola into quarters, throws the sections
down at the foot of the tree, and “reads” their arrangement to determine
positive or negative responses from its spiritual inhabitants. Sometimes
special offerings of gin or palm oil are required. The carver takes a final
reading to assure that the spirits have been assuaged and that he has
gained permission to fell their abode. The way cleared, cutting begins.
After felling the tree, the carver judges the amount of wood needed for
his work—in the case of Gelede masks, often enough for two identical
headdresses. He cuts those portions from the trunk and takes them to his
compound or farm shelter, if he is far from home, where he makes
another sacrifice to Ogun, god of iron and patron of all who work with
metal. He then commences carving.
Propitiations to Ogun, while sufficient for the carving of most Efe
and Gelede headdresses, are not adequate for the image of the Great
Mother. In this case, a much more elaborate and costly sacrificial cere-
mony must take place to ensure success in carving. In Ohori country, a
goat, cock, dove—all completely white—oil, kola nuts, a large piece of
white cloth and a substantial sum of money are offered: In Ketu similar
gifts must be offered, and all the work must be done at night (Alaiye
1977). This last obligation is most appropriate since Our Mothers are
 Gelede and the Individual 263

abroad and most active during these hours. Thus, the covert activity
evident in Iyanla’s nocturnal appearance begins with the very creation of
her image.
The Yoruba carver uses three types of tools: axes (éké, edin) or
matchets (dda); adzes, both large-bladed (adw6n) and narrow-bladed (iso);
and knives (bé) (cf. Drewal 1980). Carvers noted for their Gelede masks
with thin walls and deep, smoothly carved interiors use a special knife
with a U-shaped blade for scooping out (wo) the interior of the mask. To
begin his work, the carver quickly removes the bark with a matchet or a
wide-bladed adze in order to reveal flaws such as knots or cracks that
might affect the final product. He then rotates the block, carefully sur-
veying its idiosyncrasies in order to determine the position of the piece
within the cylinder. He considers alignment and proportion—width vs.
length vs. height, front, sides, projections, direction of wood grain. The
artist must have a clear and detailed concept of the final work so that he
can anticipate the placement of masses and voids in the form. He knows
whether the mask will have a superstructure and whether it will be carved
from a single block of wood (pls. 102-107, 166, 170) or carved separately
and attached (pls. 82, 108, 144). All these considerations determine the
ultimate composition of the work.
With the finished product in mind, the carver begins to cut the basic
form, as he was taught by his instructor (cf. Drewal 1980). First he works
on the bottom surface and interior of the headdress. He establishes the
baseline by working around the circumference and toward the center of
the cylinder, leveling the bottom to make it perpendicular to the vertical
axis of the trunk. Maintaining straightness, and thus balance, from the
outset facilitates the carver in developing bilateral symmetry. He tests his
progress frequently by sighting along the bottom plane; placing the cylin-
der on a level surface, the ground or a board; surveying it from several
perspectives; and rocking it to reveal uneven places. When he is satisfied
that the base is properly aligned, he proceeds to the next important task,
the interior.
The interior of a mask can often reveal as much about an artist’s
technique and style as the exterior. The shape, depth, and finish; the
thinness of the walls; the way the walls are pierced for nostrils, eyes, and
the insertion of ropes are all signs of an artist’s “signature” or style. For
example, the shape and smoothness of the interior of a fine mask at the
Museum fiir Volkerkunde, Bern (pl. 167) helps to confirm the dating ofa
fragmentary Oluaiye mask from Ilaro, which is from the same hand (pl.
159). Kilani Olaniyan of Ota (1981) praised the thinness (féle) of a par-
ticular carver’s masks, which he had remembered seeing when he himself
was learning to carve. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together to
demonstrate the almost paper-thin walls of the headdresses sculpted by
 264 GELEDE

PLATE 166. This large, entwined snake was carved from a single
block of wood. Museum fiir Vélkerkunde, Berlin (III C 41127).

the Ota master Dadaolomo. To a great extent, the dimensions of the

interior influence the shape of the exterior. Some of the most striking
regional style variations result from these interior/exterior relationships.
For example, Gelede headdresses from extreme western Yoruba peoples,
especially the Ohori and Anago, tend to have broad, flattened heads with
shallow interiors (pls. 15, 34, 129), while masks from the Awori Yoruba,
made by the Ota masters Onaneye, Olaleye, Olaniyan, and Olabimtan
and the Igbesa masters Kogbodoku, Olamide, Akapo, and Nuru, have
tall heads with deep, smoothly cut interiors (pls. 69-72, 94, 96). These
variations may reflect aesthetic judgments as well as technical concerns,
for the Awori version requires greater skill in shaping and smoothing the
interior without puncturing or cracking the thin walls. The variety of
styles may also be in response to divergent costuming traditions. In
Ohori, Anago, and most other Gelede areas, the headdress rests on top
of the performer’s head, sometimes angled downward in front to cover
 Gelede and the Individual 265,

his forehead and eyes. Occasionally the dancer may use the nostril holes
to see the ground, but most often he looks from below the lower rim of
the mask and through the cloth or veil attached to this rim (pl. 168). It is
only among Awori, and among Lagos Gelede houses, which get many of
their masks from Awori, that the headdress is a true helmet mask, i.e.,
one that fits over the head of the dancer, completely covers his face, and
permits him to see through the pierced eyes of the mask (color plate 9,
pls. 56, 63, 64, 69).
Hollowing out the interior is difficult and tedious. Using a strong
stroke that ends with a twist of the blade, the carver loosens and separates
the moist wood fibers of the heartwood. He works parallel to the grain
first, breaking apart as well as cutting the wood. Then he sharply angles
his stroke to cut across the vertical grain and removes chunks of wood.
The interior, which begins as a V-shaped void, gradually widens and
deepens, especially in the center and toward the back of the headdress, to
form fairly vertical sides and back, while the front, the facial plane, re-
mains at an angle. Care must be taken to leave the walls thick enough for
the exterior sculpting yet not so thick that the mask is cumbersome for
the wearer. The interior space should fit an average-sized head comfort-
ably; too small and the headdress would cut into the wearer’s head; too
large and it would knock about and cause balance problems. The carver
continually tests his work by trying it out on his own head. He checks
weight distribution, alignments, surface texture, and shape. Patrons as

PLATE 167. The outer forms and the shape and smoothness of
the interior of this mask confirm that it was carved by the same
hand as another fragmentary mask documented in the field
(pl. 159). Bernisches Historisches Museum (36).
 pe GELEDE
ULEDS
266

PLATE 168. A masquerader wears a headdress on the top of his

head and looks out from below its rim. Ilaro, 1978. F
 Gelede and the Individual 267

well as performers also test the headdress and may require the carver to
make adjustments. If the interior is too large, a head wrap can fill the
space. Tilted or wobbling masks are undesirable, and the fault may be
attributed to the inexperienced dancer or to the carver or to both. The
aesthetic ideal in the dance is balance and stability of the head in contrast
to the active body, and a properly carved mask interior is essential to
attaining this goal.
When the carver is satisfied with the interior, he turns to the outside.
He must keep the inner dimensions in mind, for the finished headdress
will, to a great extent, depend on them. With this awareness, the artist
cuts into the cylindrical block, working quickly yet methodically, with
strength, to remove the chunks of wood that stand between the uncut
trunk and the finished work in his mind’s eye. Such ability is associated
with the gift of insight, which the Yoruba term ojti iniin (literally “inner
eye’) (Abiodun 1980a:14).
With successively smaller-bladed adzes, the carver refines his forms
and rounds and smooths the surfaces. Then switching to his knives, he
works on the surface details that determine the forms and the textures of
the finished mask. One Awori master excelled in conveying the qualities
of woven cloth (pl. 96), while Falola of Idahin captured the texture of a
woven mat (pl. 113). The carver can portray tightly braided coiffures
(pls. 88, 89) and eyes staring between strong lids (pl. 89). Designs on
sheaths received special attention from carvers in the Etuobe workshop
(pls. 32, 33).
When the knifework is completed, the headdress is ready for paint-
ing. Sometimes the carver himself paints the mask, but often the client or
some other person does so. In any case, once the mask is turned over to
the client, it becomes his responsibility to repaint it before each Gelede
spectacle. In some areas the surface of the mask is sized with a thin latex
coating from zroko, ahun, or oro trees to seal the pores of the wood and
prevent them from absorbing the color, so the paint will adhere to the
surface. Then the paints are prepared. Since at least the mid-nineteenth
century, the Yoruba have imported enamel paints, but traditional pig-
ments still continue to be preferred in some places (color plates 12, 193).
The painter traditionally uses crushed mineral rock for various earth
colors—red, brown, yellow, orange; charcoal, lampblack, or the bark of
the ebe tree plus black soap (ose duidu) for black; indigo for blue; and snail
shells, eggshells, kaolin, or chalk for white (Osubi 1971). The finely pow-
dered pigments are then mixed with water or, in some cases, egg yolks to
thicken them or egg whites to produce tempera with a slightly shiny
quality.
Different kinds of applicators are used to paint the mask. Some
painters prefer the pliable, fibrous end of a thin stick, similar to the
 268 GELEDE

PLATE 169. The Ilaro style of

painting a band of contrasting
color to separate and delineate the
hairline and the forehead illus-
trates a local aesthetic preference.
1978.

common “chewing stick” used to clean the teeth. Others, known as amuti
(literally “the-holder-of-the-still-feather-of-the-bird,” a mu itt), use a
brush made of birds’ feathers (Murray n.d.). Still others use imported
paint brushes, cloths, or simply their fingers. The order of applying
colors varies considerably, but most often the artist begins with the lighter
hues and finishes with the darker ones. The reason is very practical: the
darker colors tend to bleed through the lighter ones. Thus, white for the
eyes, face, or mouth goes on first, followed by darker colors for eye lids,
hair, scarification marks, and so forth.
Lines where colors meet must be sharp to separate and differentiate
the various features. Painters juxtapose contrasting colors with precisely
rendered edges to produce this result; this technique 1s also evident in the
striking cloth patchwork facings on certain masquerades honoring the
ancestors (Drewal and Drewal 1978). The painter may even add a line of
a third color between two areas that are not sufficiently contrasting.
Ogunseye of Ilaro separates the hairline and forehead with a single or
double band from ear to ear (pl. 169). All parts must be clearly distin-
guishable so that the viewer will be satisfied that the work is complete.
The choice of hues is based primarily on their visual effect in
 Gelede and the Individual 269

defining and separating parts. Verisimilitude in painting, although not

very common, is a consideration for some. At Lagos, the Babalase almost
always paints hair black or indigo. Some faces are painted in different
values of brown that closely resemble skin pigmentation (color plate 13).
Other features may also require specific colors. For instance, masks de-
picting orisa oko worshippers have carved and painted lozenges in red and
white on the forehead as the sign of their devotion. In most cases, how-
ever, the colors have only a general symbolic association with super-
natural forces. White, the color of cool, covert deities, dominates masks
representing the Great Mother and other “white deities” (pl. 170), while
red, associated with hot and overtly aggressive forces, occurs at times on
masks depicting Egungun masqueraders in the superstructures. The
greater concern, however, is aesthetic: the actual choice of colors is not as
important as their degree of contrast and how well they separate parts to
make them visible from a distance, giving the mask a finished quality.
Thus, most Efe night masks have stark white faces, primarily for dra-
matic visual effect and only secondarily for symbolic reasons.
The creation and assembling of an Efe or Gelede masquerade repre-
sent the aesthetic ideal of completeness. Incising and painting the surface
of the masks demonstrate the concern for accurate depiction of all im-
portant details. Carefully rendered details are essential for the dramatic
illusion of masking, especially when some of the performances are con-
ducted in the dark. Recognizable details attest to the thoroughness and
the diligence of the artist.
The process of creation does not necessarily cease when an artist
finishes carving and painting a mask. For art in Yoruba culture may
continue to undergo alterations in response to the aesthetic preferences
of its owners or caretakers, sometimes over several generations. Much
Yoruba work, therefore, is really the product of many hands and con-
tinues to evolve over time.
Gelede headdresses are changed primarily by the application of new
layers of pigments and by the addition or alteration of attachments on the
superstructures. Repainting is done before all performances, whether
they are special funeral commemorations or annual festivals. Sometimes
the sculptor is commissioned to do the refurbishing, but more often
society officials in charge of the masks or the families of dancers will
renew (mura) them. The availability of certain colors and types of paints,
as well as the color preferences of the painters, can dramatically alter the
appearance of the headdress. Changes in the forms usually occur in the
attachments. Some Gelede masks are constructed so that different items
can be attached to the superstructure, such as different kinds of trays,
containers, or products to depict specific roles within the broad category
of marketwoman. And in some cases, a removable superstructure may be
 270 GELEDE

PLATE 170. The whitewash and the snails evoke the “white
deities,” whose favorite sacrifices are snails. Museum ftir
Volkerkunde, Basel (III 12681).

replaced by one that completely alters the subject matter of the

headdress. For example, the éko seller Gelede by Oduntan of Sawonjo
(pl. 111), reappeared some months later, newly painted and sporting a
superstructure (probably by the same artist) honoring not a marketwo-
man but a priestess (color plate 10). These changes in iconography seem
to reflect not only the continuing aesthetic input by the sculptor but also
the evolution of the patron’s perception of herself and how she wishes to
be seen by the community, whether as an industrious marketwoman or as
a religious leader.

The wishes and aesthetic sense of patrons and artists constitute some
of the sources of diversity in the Gelede masquerades. As both an artistic
and a cultural phenomenon, Gelede has undergone, and continues to
undergo, dynamic changes while still anchored by certain fundamental
beliefs about the spiritual powers of women and the means of channeling
them for society’s benefit. The phenomenon of Gelede can be seen as an
adaptive instrument with which society regulates individuals and, simul-
taneously, with which individuals effect change in society, creating and
recreating it in a complex interactive system.
NOTICES ON, LE xT

1. Yoruba Spectacle
1. For another mention of opening and closing formulas in Yoruba verbal arts, see
Olajuba (1978).
2. It is Pierre Verger (1964:15-19) who has given the most detailed account of the
concept. See also Drewal and Drewal (1980).
3. Raymond Prince (1979:116) questions this interpretation because animals also are
gagged during sacrifices. However, according to Yoruba thought, animals, speaking their
own languages, are capable of uttering curses. Prince’s alternative explanation, that the
mouth of the sacrificial scapegoat is gagged to prevent the escape of the spiritual effluvia
with which the victim has been infused, is also quite plausible. Both explanations support
the broader notion of the victim’s potential to emit destructive force through the breath.
4. Ayoade (1979:51) states further, “A name is the neatest encapsulation of a man’s
being. In a large number of cases it is believed that a man’s name and the names of his
parents are most essential to the control of the man because these names are regarded as
the total summary of the person’s being since they indicate his origin [¢ponrt]. .. .” Bascom
(1960:408) notes that knowledge of one’s “history” (¢tan iponri), or praise names, “gives
one the power to kill a person by summoning his ancestral guardian soul, and some
informants hold that one will die if he even talks about his zponri.” The importance of
understanding the “instrumentality” of speech in African cultures has been argued con-
vincingly by Benjamin Ray (1973).
5. The autonomous but equal segments of the whole are expressive of autonomous but
equal forces operating in the universe, but they do not necessarily always invoke and
activate those forces. Rather the seriate structure itself often symbolizes such a world
order.
6. The concept of openings and closings has already been discussed. For other
references to discontinuity, segmentation, and free rhythm in the arts, see Wolff
(1962:48), Babalola (1966:xx; 1973:81), Abimbola (1976:64), H. J. Drewal (1977b:6—7),
and Drewal and Drewal (1978).
7. The term egbé in drisa egbé (Gelede) meaning “society” should not be confused with
the term eléghé associated with abiki, children “born to die,” as has been confirmed by
numerous Egbado and Ketu Gelede members. Abéki are also called elééere, (literally “per-
son getting profit or advantage”), a reference to the special treatment accorded abiku in
order to appease them (Abraham 1958:162). Circumstances of birth and inheritance
make it possible for a family to have Araagbo (the tutelary deity of abeku/eleere) plus
Gelede, or any other combination of gods and/or spirits. Although Gelede participants
we have interviewed do not consider that Gelede masqueraders represent abiku/elegbe,
Lawal (1978:68—6q) suggests that they do.
8. See Idowu (1962:177-178) for a further discussion of omo ar’azye.
g. Asecond explanation often given is that the nighttime offers a private setting, since
at that time the community is sleeping. However, it does not explain Efe night perfor-
mance, which the entire community is encouraged to attend. Finally, nighttime cere-
271
 272 Notes on Text

monies do not cut into the work day; but during festivals, all society or cult members are
supposed to rest at home during the day in order to be on hand for festival events.
1o. For a discussion of cooling or propitiatory rites, see Awolalu (1979:152-158).
11. Fora discussion of Gelede cult organization and the distribution of responsibilities
for the various parts in Gelede, see Drewal and Drewal (1975:38, 78).

2. Gelede Performance
1. ... ere yin da gégé bi ase ti awon agbaldgha ti se koja lo ti won pe gege bi eso nitort won ko
gbodojo ni gbangba.
2. The following description, based primarily on Ketu and Ketu-related Yoruba tradi-
tions, which are among the most elaborate and, we believe, the oldest, contains some
elements from other western Yoruba groups. It is therefore a composite of Efe and
Gelede spectacles, which serves as an introduction to this artistic phenomenon. This ritual
complex is called simply Gelede in the literature and by informants. Nevertheless the
Yoruba clearly distinguish between Efe and Gelede ceremonies while recognizing their
unity. Elderly informants claim “there can be no Efe without Gelede, and no Gelede
without Efe.”
3. An account of these preparations including consultations with the Yoruba oracle,
Ifa, and sacrificial ceremony can be found in Drewal (1973:67—79).
4. The term akijele may be related to the institution of ajele, representatives of the
Alaafin of Oyo charged with overseeing the activities of local rulers in areas subject to
Oyo and with making reports to the king, functions somewhat analogous to Oro Efe’s
chorus. See Law (1977:110—119).
5. In some communities, elaborate precautions are taken to restrict or prevent certain
people, especially women of childbearing age and children, from coming too close or
seeing the Great Mother mask openly because of its alleged spiritual powers. See a
discussion of these procedures of concealment in chapter 4.
6. Itis significant that Oro Efe says he was “doing a task” for the apd and zroko trees, for
they are believed to be the special abodes of the mothers (cf. Lucas 1948:284). This verse
also confirms Oro Efe’s role as servant of the mothers or, in other words, a “wizard” (oso).

3. Efe Songs—Voicing Power

1. Efiifi literally means “wind” and refers to the breath or vocal performance of divin-
ers and Efe singers. In this regard it is interesting to note that, according to Wande
Abimbola (1980), Orunmila, the deity presiding over Ifa divination, is said to “travel on
the wind,” a reference to oral transmission. William Bascom (1960:401) relates the
Yoruba concept of breath (émé) to “man’s vital force: it gives him life and makes him
work.”
2. Ulli Beier (1958:17) provides a graphic illustration when he writes that “It is lyalashe
who places the mask on the dancer’s head, and even the great ‘Efe’ fully dressed . . . can
stull be impeded from coming out by lyalashe. If at the moment when he is prepared to
leave the hut Iyalashe tells him to stay ‘he must go and sit down like a small boy’... .”
Thompson (1972) reports that the zyalase is the one who puts the mask on Oro Efe and
that medicines are inserted in the headdress and costume to protect him.
3. These categories based on subject matter are our own and are used here simply for
the analysis of texts. Yoruba may classify Efe songs using other criteria, such as tempo or
function. For example, Olabimtan, in his eagerly awaited book, Akojopo Oro Efe, deals with
“Songs of Warning” (Orin Ikilo). See Asiwaju (1975:265, note 46).
4. The following discussion is based on a sample of 206 songs, 145 collected during
interviews with cult elders, 30 recorded at Efe performances in northern Egbado and
Ketu areas, and the remainder taken from a variety of published sources (cf. Beier 1958;
Olabimtan 1970; Harper 1970; Moulero 1970; Asiwaju 1975, 1976).
 Notes on Text 273

5. [juba are an essential part of all communications between the living and the super-
natural forces as well as among different individuals and groups within society. They are
a way of recognizing the distinctive potential of something or someone, honoring it, and
as a result making that entity responsive to the concerns of the one reciting such homage.
Asa result, all rituals and sacrifices begin with ijuba.
6. The order of invoking the gods varies in different areas. At a Ketu Efe ceremony,
Obatala was called first; at Idahin, Orisa Oko, god of the hunt associated with “our
mothers” (Ojo 1973) was called first. Olabimtan (1970) records Ogun as the first deity
called in Abeokuta, followed by Esu.
7. See also Prince (1961:796) for similar beliefs about burying secret substances under
the earthen floor. According to informants, every “mother” must have a male oso to carry
out her work; she conceives the plan and he is her missive. Verger (1965:143) notes the
same concept.
8. Sexual imagery is common in Ogun symbolism, as well as in that of other male
deities and culture heroes, defining masculine, overt, vengeful characters (cf. Thompson
1971:ch.7/1—2 and Barnes 1980:29). Hoch-Smith (1978), by ignoring sexual themes and
metaphors in ritual and symbolic representations of males and male deities, concludes
erroneously that images of destruction and reproduction are peculiar to women in
Yoruba society.
g. Ogun is known for his quick vengeance. This praise phrase mirrors reality, for in a
sacrifice to Ogun the animal must literally be killed with one blow (cf. Barnes 1980:39) or
it is not acceptable.
10. This example is only one part of a very long and elaborate ijuba. Shorter ijuba may
occur at different points in Oro Efe’s performance, but the initial one is usually very
extensive. For an excellent example of an extensive yuba, see Olabimtan (1970:201—207).
11. Olabimtan (1970:212) states that there are two types of Efe songs based on
tempo—the mojdwéré or 6l6k6 (fast) and the éwé (slow). Descriptive language used to
characterize song style is based on Lomax (1968:34-74).
12. Crowther (1852:54) records a praise song about the dwoko that states, “I sang 200
songs in the morning, 200 at noon and another 200 in the afternoon as my ordinary task
as well as many other frolicsome notes for my own amusement.” See also Olabimtan
(1970:215, note 16).
13. See Prince (1961:796) and Verger (1967) for other medicines used as protection
against the destructive mothers.
14. Agbojo is the first priest of Onidofoi, the deified ancestor of the Imala/Idofoi
people in whose honor Gelede is performed in that area.
15. For examples of Efe songs used to comment on politics, see Asiwaju (1975).

4. The Masks and Costumes of Efe Night

1. Moulero (1971:36—43) calls this mask Agbagba, to whom the audience sings praises
in order to clear the way for the Gelede festival.
2. In Ketu, the individual carrying fire is known as Agbena and is followed by a
separate performer called Apana, “the Fire Extinguisher”; their entrance signals that all
lights should be put out for the appearance of the Great Mother.
3. See, for example, the opening incantation (ijuba) presented by Oro Efe in chapter 3.
4. Some small communities of limited resources may not have night mother masks;
however, in most cases a grove and/or shrine is maintained in her honor.
5. The following description is based on a corpus of twenty night mother masks: twelve
photographed in the field, three from drawings by artist informants who carved the
masks, two from verbal descriptions by specialist informants (priests and artists), two from
published sources, and one from a museum collection.
 274 Notes on Text

6. Prince (1961:797) was given similar descriptions, such as “a white bird with long red
beak and red claws” or “a brown bird like a bush fowl with long red beak.”
7. Nocturnal mother masks, despite their central importance to the whole concept of
Gelede, have received only brief mention in an otherwise sizeable body of literature on
the cult, perhaps because of their inaccessibility. For a review of this literature, see H. J.
Drewal (1977a). Although the bearded mother mask has had brief mention, the bird
mother mask is discussed here for the first time.
8. Prince (1960:67) notes the use of images, medicines, and words in the practice of
curse and invocation.
g. Verger (1965:224—-227) records a myth about the primordial mother, Odu, who
prohibits anyone from seeing her “face.” Odu’s “face” refers to secret, powerful
medicines kept in a closed container/calabash which, if seen, would cause instant blind-
ness. The face also refers to the shrine, ojubo (the face that receives offerings) or oju orisa
(the face of the deity). It is the closed container placed on the shrine that serves as the
focal point for prayers, divinations, and sacrifices and literally encloses the vital force of
the deity.
10. Moulero (1970:53) received the same translation from elders in the Ketu area,
while our own information comes from the Ohori area. It may be that instead of using a
monosyllabic, action verb selected from the name of the potent ingredient, as in the case
of chanting ofo, the drummers activate the medicine by drumming double entendre. The
name of the ingredient, then, is at the same time the verb phrase that activates it, so that in
performance a double entendre may function both to invoke the essence of the ingre-
dient and to set it into action.
11. [Two variations should be noted. At Ijio, the mask is described as “black” (Harper
1970:75). Chat may be explained by its condition after a fire and by the fact that it no
longer leaves the shrine. At Ohumbe, carver Lawani Olupona (1975) states that it is not
painted with any color, a condition that may in fact constitute “white.”
12. At Sakete, this relationship between Oro Efe and Ogun is even more explicit, for
the masquerader brings gifts for the deity and is formally greeted by the head of the
Ogun worshippers, the Ologun (Beier 1958:15).
19. Harper (1970:78) received a similar explanation in IJjio.
14. Another documented by Carroll (1967:pl. 24) shows crosses, in all probability to
identify the wearer as a Christian.
15. Besides providing rhythmic punctuation for his songs, leg rattles also suggest spiri-
tual protective power. In form they are similar to those worn by an abiku, a child who is
“born to die.” The rattles are put on the child’s ankles to frighten away spiritual forces
that seek to destroy him. In another context, rattling iron bells on the herbalist’s staff is
said to prevent evil persons from approaching (cf. Thompson 1975:56).

5. The Dance
1. The term okan, usually translated as “heart,” implies not simply emotions or feelings
but rather “intellect,” according to Rowland Abiodun. Therefore, we have translated it as
“mind.”
2. The significance of these procedures is not entirely clear, but they imply procedures
of protection that have parallels in hunter/Ogun masquerades and Egungun.
3. For a related analysis of doubling as an expression of the Yoruba philosophical
concern with syndesis, see Armstrong (1981:72ff.).
4. The Ketu style analysis is based on observations in the towns of Ketu, Idahin, and
Idofa. We wish to acknowledge the work of Forrestine Paulay, who viewed the Gelede
dance footage and prepared a dance profile for the Choreometrics project in 1972. This
description benefits from discussions with her held at that time.
 Notes on Text 275

6. The Masks of Gelede

1. Another example of mask upon mask is in the collection of the Santa Barbara
Museum of Art.
2. Using Ifa literary sources, Rowland Abiodun (1980b) provides a_ perceptive
metaphor for the concept of art, whether verbal or visual; it is wisdom clothed or embel-
lished in different ways.
3. Changes in proportion within a composition do not necessarily connote matters of
hierarchy or social importance. Large central figures may simply be a means of focusing
attention on a particular subject. Or they may be a solution to an artistic problem. For
example, in a mask (pl. 122) showing a Muslim in a canoe, the teapots flanking the scene
are in an entirely different scale, almost life-sized. The composition does not communi-
cate relative importance through proportion. Such shifts in proportion (and perspective)
are common in Yoruba art and appear to be expressions of a preference for seriate
organization in which parts are separate and autonomous.
4. See the discussion of this subject in a mask from the Ketu/Idahin region in Drewal
(1981:115).
5. This summary of myths is based on data collected from specialist informants in the
northern Egbado towns of Imala, Kesan Orile, Imasai, Iboro, Joga Orile, and Igan Okoto,
and in Idofoi and Aibo quarters, Aiyetoro. Similar accounts were also collected in Pobe
and several Ohori Yoruba towns.
6. The same connotations for red parrot feathers were also collected at Owo, in south-
eastern Yorubaland, 1975. See also Prince (1961:796).
7. The dots on Jju’s face evoke the state of possession trance when goddess and
priestess become one. The dots tend to diminish the volume and substance of the mask,
giving it an ethereal, spiritual quality. At Ife and Ila, dots are also painted on the faces of
persons possessed by their gods.
8. Snakes, being nocturnal creatures, are associated with the mothers as well as with the
qualities of patience and coolness. One elderly informant (Odu 1973) remarked that
when you step on a snake, he does not react quickly, “He is cool” (Onztutu). He also
compared the snake’s patience (oniswuru) with that of his deified ancestor, Ondo.
g. The ancestral priestess masquerade seems to have survived among Yoruba descend-
ants in Akutown, Sierra Leone. Two informants, whose grandparents were leaders of the
Gelede cult, described a special female masquerade known as Mama Sofi. She was said to
represent one of the early female elders who was reputed to be very wise in the mysteries
of the cult (Akinsulure and Frazer 1972). This masquerade shares certain traits with the
mother masquerades of Egbado. Appearing only on special occasions and performing
alone, in contrast to other Gelede, who dance in pairs, Mama Sofi comes at the conclusion
of the ceremonies, moving slowly, bent over and leaning on a cane to depict her legendary
age.

7. A Historical and Thematic Overview

1. The mothers are a primary concern in Ifa divination literature in non-Gelede areas
(Abimbola 1976; Ositola 1982), although studies examining their place in the Yoruba
world view are few. Drawing upon divination verses from eastern Yorubaland, Rowland
Abiodun (1976) documents the power of woman and the central role of the mothers in
the Igogo festival at Owo; and, based on Ifa verses collected at Osogbo, Pierre Verger ina
lengthy monograph (1965) explicates the origins of women’s spiritual power. With the
exception of these three studies, little attention has been given in the literature on Yoruba
cosmology to the role and place of the mothers.
The studies of the Atinga movement (Morton-Williams 1956) and of the Yoruba image
of the witch (Prince 1961), which is based largely on mental patients’ cases, highlight the
 276 Notes on Text

negative dimensions of women’s powers. And Hoch-Smith’s study of radical sexuality

(1978) implies that sexual images and a concern with reproductive processes in Yoruba
ritual and symbolism are reserved for women. It thus provides a one-sided view by its
omission of comparable male sexual images common in the ritual and symbolism of
Ogun, Sango, Esu, and other male deities. This study perpetuates further an imbalanced
picture of the mothers as negative, attacking “male-controlled society” (1978:249). Froma
Yoruba point of view, however, the mothers control society covertly and men simply act
out their will. To put this into its proper perspective, it is perhaps more appropriate to
focus on the mother-child bond rather than seek an explanation in the fact that women
have achieved economic independence.
It is perhaps for similar reasons that the nocturnal mother masks have not been treated
in the literature on Gelede (cf. Drewal 1977a) and that concepts about women have not
been examined sufficiently by scholars. In most contexts, the powers of the mothers are
not generally discussed openly, yet they are central to virtually every Yoruba ritual. The
probable reason for the secrecy surrounding this topic is that, unlike the deities and the
ancestors who dwell in the otherworld and must be invoked to become manifest, the
mothers are ever-present, and their influence and impact on ritual is covert. They inhabit
the world and live in virtually every Yoruba household. Indeed, as we have seen, the
mothers are the “owners of the world,” the “gods of society,” and to this extent, they
mediate the power of the gods and the ancestors in “the world.” Thus, the mothers and
the gods and ancestors are “working hand-to-hand,” as Yoruba often say. This applies as
much to the cults of the ancestors (Egungun) and the deities as it does to Gelede. Gelede
simply treats the subject of the mothers and their role in society more explicitly than do
many other Yoruba cults, at least more explicitly than the literature on these cults pres-
ently acknowledges.
2. Asiwaju (1976:36-37, footnote 73) remarks that although there were connections
between Old Oyo and Ketu, they “do not appear to have amounted to political control.”
Atanda (1973:11—12) suggests that an alliance may have existed whereby Old Oyo would
protect Ketu from Dahomey in return for permission to control the trade route passing
through Ketu territory.
3. Some intriguing data suggest historical and artistic interactions between the Gelede
world and the kingdom of Benin. Benin influence in Lagos may date from the late
sixteenth century to the latter part of the eighteenth (Egharevba 1960:30—31; Norris
1789), and Benin is associated with Igbesa, Ado-Odo, and Badagri, all Awori or Anago
towns (Asiwaju 1976:19). Using visual data, Thompson (1971:ch. 14/1) notes that formal
ties linking Gelede masks to Benin bronzes of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
“suggest a firm foundation in Nigerian antiquity.” The style of some Gelede masks, more
specifically those of Ota, Awori, does show some similarities with Benin bronzes in
pierced pupils and nostrils, and lenticular eye and lip shades. Yet these traits could be said
to apply throughout most periods of Benin art, and the bronzes that mirror Yoruba
Gelede masks most closely are from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The style of
Ketu, Egbado, and Ohori Gelede masks is more closely related to other Yoruba styles
than to Benin. The visual evidence remains inconclusive. Fagg (1978:21) illustrates two
Ijebu Yoruba brass bell heads (omo) formerly in the possession of the king of Ketu. They
indicate Ketu contacts with Ijebu (and perhaps Benin) but how early is uncertain since
these brasses appear to be of nineteenth-century manufacture. Recurring references to
brass, shells, and Olokun, an important Benin (and Yoruba) divinity of the sea, in songs
and other oral testimony may also indicate some Gelede world—Benin interactions, yet
they cannot at present be dated. These same references may also be interpreted in other
ways. For example, the mention of shells (okoto) may refer to cowries, which were im-
 Notes on Text 277

ported in great quantities by Europeans on the coast. Shells, brass,

and the sea point as
much to the wealth from Yoruba trading activities with European
s at Porto Novo and
Badagri as they do to Benin. A praise name, for example, for a renowned
carver credited
with starting Gelede at Joga is “Famous-Carver-Who-Uses-a-Brass-Knife-to
-Carve” (Afeju
agunwa li fidbe ide ghégi). The carver did not literally carve with a brass
knife; rather the
reference to brass is a way of praising his prosperity and thus his success
as a carver.
4. In Agosasa and in the Ketu Gelede society, Isale Eko, Lagos, Gelede is said
to come
from Ketu (Thompson 1971:ch. 14/1-2). Ilara, a Ketu Yoruba town on the
Nigerian—
Benin border, credits Ketu as the source of Gelede (Onluiji 1971). Porto Novo
in the
south and Sabe north of Ketu say Gelede came from Ketu at an undetermined time
(Beier
1958:8; Bernolles 1966:23). According to Monserrat Palau-Marti (1980), Gelede
in Sabe
seems to be a fairly recent introduction from Ketu. The towns of Iwoye in Ohori
area,
Imasai, and Pobe associate Gelede origins with Ketu (field notes 1973). At Idofa, one cult
official (Adeogun 1971) says that the first to do Gelede was Iko, founder of the town, who
is now regarded as a deity and honored at Gelede festivals. He further states that his title,
Aso Efe, had in the past been held by a former king of Idofa named Alao Dudueko, a son
of Alaketu Adio [Adiro, 1858-1867].
5. The Gelede mask among Idofoi/Imala peoples depicts Muslims, and the first elder
to hold the head Gelede title in those areas was said to have dressed like a Muslim during
his lifetime. See p. 176.
6. We wish to thank Fr. Thomas Moulero for permission to see and copy his handwrit-
ten manuscript, “Le Guélédé,” in 1971. We dedicate this chapter to Fr. Moulero, who
passed away in 1974.
7. In conversation with Moulero (1971), he admitted that some of his information was
conflicting. He arrived at the designation of Edun as Adebiya based on the recitation of
the court herald (although he said this was not complete) and the tradition that attributes
the start of Gelede to the Mefu royal lineage (Adebiya’s).
8. The Bale of Ilogun Quarter, Aiyetoro, stated (Bankole 1971) that before there were
masks people used calabashes. We observed a child wearing a painted calabash during a
Gelede performance in Ketu in 1971.
g. The Yoruba orthography is nonstandard, reflecting the Ketu dialect. Moulero’s
translations are not literal, but his interpretations are accurate. We have therefore kept
close to a literal translation of the French into English. Note the remarkable similarity of
this song with the one cited by Ogundipe at Ketu and by the king of Pobe. We collected
the same song at Oja Odan, where it is sung to greet the Gelede and to encourage them to
dance harder (Olowobese 1975).
10. We collected a similar praise name for Gelede at Ilaro and Oja Odan, but Olokun
was replaced by Oluaiye (“Owner-of-the-World”), a reference to the mothers.
11. The following song includes “atokun, Child of Oje, egun of the king,” which seems
to be a reference to the Egungun cult. Moulero does not attempt to explain this reference
to Egungun in a song that is supposed to document the origin of Gelede. It is interesting
to note, however, that Parrinder (1967:100) lists an Alaketu named Oje, a name as-
sociated with the Egungun cult. Although it is not known which royal line he belonged to,
one of the five Ketu royal families is Alapini, an important Egungun title. The song may
suggest that somehow Gelede derived from Egungun but we have no other evidence of
that assertion. Another possibility is that certain of the royal lineages at Ketu owned both
Gelede and Egungun, a very common occurrence throughout western Yorubaland. In-
deed, we witnessed the appearance of an Egungun masquerader before an afternoon
Gelede dance, which honored the anniversary of the death of an important member of
both societies. The Egungun, however, did not approach the market where the Gelede
 278 Notes on Text

spectacle took place. Thus, it is quite possible that the Efe masqueré ider who offered this
song was praising himself not only as a wonderful joker with reverbet rating leg rattles but
also as a child of Oje.
This date is recorded from an article in Jwe Irohin, a Yoruba newspaper, translated
in Church Missionary Intelligence, 1860, Appendix, and quoted in Parrinder (1967:54—55).
13. In addition to Kesan and Ketu informants, people in the towns of Imasai, Itolu,
and Ilaro also claim that Ijoun is the home of Boromu.
14. Interviews with S. I. Adesina, Abepa of Joga, and seven of his chiefs, April 2 and
12, 1971. The Oba possesses a historical document dated 1921, probably a petition to the
British Colonial administration.
5. Today Aibo is the central quarter of Aiyetoro, from which the kings are selected,
and is recognized as the original settlement before Aiyetoro was established circa 1902.
Because of its proximity to other towns on the former trade route and the local tradition
that it was founded during the reign of Alaafin Abiodun, it seems likely that it is the town
Clapperton (1829) identifies as “Liabo.”
16. Today Emado (Erinmado) is located within the town of Aiyetoro, but formerly it
was on Erinmado stream, five miles south of Alyetoro.
At Igan Okoto, two encounters with the Egba are remember éd. The first may have
eee the Owiwi War of 1832, fought between the Egba and Tjebu on Egbado soil.
Biobaku’s account (1957:20) mentions that after the Ijebu defeat, the Egba warrior Apati
“destroyed several Egbado towns, notably [janna, and attacked Ilaro, the Egbado capital.”
This route of reprisal would have passed very close to Igan Okoto, which may have been
one of the towns attacked. The second encounter with the Egba is clearly remembered as
the Dado War (Ajibola 1971). According to Biobaku (1957:22), the Egba, in retaliation for
attacks by Dado, a chief of Igan Okoto, “pursued Dado into the Egbado country, sacked
many towns there and returned to Abeokuta.” Biobaku gives a date of 1834 for these
events.
18. Collected from Alapa Legbe, Babalawo and Elefe, Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro,
March 20, 1971. Joga, it will be recalled, was founded circa 1790. The date 1825 is used
here because it would have been at approximately this time that Joga’s founding
forefather would have returned to Joga after fighting the Fulani on behalf of Oyo.
ig. According to Morton-Williams (1964:40), trade was mainly through ports south of
Little Ardrah in the eighteenth century, but by the late eighteenth century much of the
trade had moved eastward to Badagri, the new route passing through a number of towns
founded by sons of Alaafin Abiodun. Then in 1784, apparently because the southern end
of the route had grown too independent, the Alaafin allowed the Dahomeans to destroy
Badagri. It was subsequently rebuilt, for it has been documented that F. da Souza, a
slaver, had made a fortune there in 1818 (Dunglas 1957:1i, p. 41, cited in Morton-
Williams 1964:34).
20. See note 18. According to tradition the founding forefather, Obalaju, returned
from war with the Fulani and crowned the first king of Joga. From that time until 1921,
the date of Joga documents, six kings reigned.
21. The Onisare was a non-Yoruba slave who served in the palace at Oyo and was sent
to Ijanna by the Alaafin to reassert Oyo’s control over the Egbado province (cf. Law
1977:115—116).
22. It will be recalled that traditions about Ilaro tell of Oronna’s journey down toward
the coast in the company of a messenger who settled in Awori. Meanwhile Oronna
returned northward to found Ilaro.
23. K. C. Murray (Nigerian Museum Archives) visited Iposuko Quarter, Badagri, at
 Notes on Text 279

least three times between 1942 and 1958. In 1942, he reports, a large number of Gelede
masks and other cult paraphernalia were stored in a shrine with a corrugated roof. The
caretaker and head of the Gelede society said his people brought Gelede with them from
Ilaro. From among eighty discarded masks, Murray selected a number for the Nigerian
Museum collection (nos. 336-342). These masks were said to have been carved by Opere
of Afarni, Dahomey, circa 1926. By 1946, when Murray revisited, the shrine had col-
lapsed and the remaining masks were exposed to the open air. Finally, by 1958, the
caretaker had died, and a relative said that Gelede had not been performed since before
1945 because the drummers had died and many people had left Badagri.
24. We are grateful to K. C. Murray, who kindly provided us with information on
Gelede in 1971, including the letters from Beyioku (1943 and 1946). Burns (1929:42,
313) does not give dates for this reign but says the second king after Esinlokun reigned
from 1836 to 1841. Using thirteen years as an average reign would corroborate Talbot’s
dates.
25. There are discrepancies in the literature about the history of Iseri people and their
entry into Lagos. Losi (1967:11) places the foundation of Iseri at about 1699. Talbot
(1969:81) gives circa 1660 for the Iseri colonization of Lagos and the first king, Asipa;
however, he records only six reigns for Iseri kings before Esinlokun, who came to the
throne in 1820. That would average out to 26% years per reign, which is very unlikely.
Burns (1929:38—40) suggests the end of the fifteenth century for the Iseri migration.
Since his king list duplicates Talbot’s, the length of reigns is even more unlikely. Finally,
Ellis (1974:11) states that about 1807 “some of the Yorubas first pushed to the south and
colonized Lagos. The first chief of Lagos was called Ashipa, and is said to have belonged
to the family of the Alafin.” Ellis does not cite his source, but his information corresponds
more with our evidence that Iseri and their Gelede are related to Ilaro. In Ilaro migration
traditions, Oronna, the founding forefather, is said to have sojourned as far south as Ado
Odo, Ilobi, and Awori country before returning to Ilaro. He was led by a messenger from
Oyo, who was instructed by the Alaafin to settle on the coast, or where the sacrifice sank
into the water. Oronna, son of the Alaafin, supposedly accompanied the messenger down
to Awori country and then returned. If the foundation of Ilaro was late eighteenth
century and if Iseri people are related to Ilaro, then Ellis’s date seems more accurate. It
would place the migration of Iseri people into Lagos after Benin influence was in decline,
although Iseri apparently recognized Benin’s authority as the first settlers (cf. Smith
1969:89—94 for a discussion of the same problem). The discrepancies in these historical
accounts, like those of Ilaro, may result from the lack of distinction between earlier local
authorities and those imposed by Oyo during the expansionist period of Alaafin
Abiodun. Another possible explanation is the political need of the various people to
validate their authority in the area in order to maintain their chieftaincies in the face of
British Colonial rule.
26. Scholars may have underestimated the extent and the rates of change in African
art. Complex market and long distance trading networks assured widespread and rapid
dispersal of goods as well as artistic ideas. For example, the elders at Joga told us that
traveling time to New Oyo was two days on foot through the town of Igbo Ora, and the
Olu of Ilaro told Clapperton (1829:10) that a messenger could reach Lagos in a day. This
rapid communication system together with the itinerancy of artists must have encouraged
the rapid dissemination of artistic ideas.
27. Besides these Gelede-related phenomena in Ijebu and Lagos, Gelede itself is pres-
ent in other Yoruba areas, notably Ijesa, Oyo, and Ife. This, however, is recent, primarily
the result of a secularized form of dance theater. Nowadays, Gelede troupes perform
 280 Notes on Text

throughout Yorubaland on social occasions such as births, marriages, and funerals, as do

the Agbegijo masquerade companies, commercial traveling theaters derived from the
ancestral Egungun cult.
28. However, Bastide (1978:256, citing Arthur Ramos) says that Our Lady of the
Immaculate Conception of the Beach is syncretized with Yemoja, goddess of the sea.
29. We are indebted to Didi and Juana dos Santos for providing information on these
masks during fieldwork in Brazil in 1974 and for permission to photograph them.
go. Although they were no longer worn, the masks were cared for by Iya Obabiyi of
Ase Opo Afonja until her death and the rites performed on December 8, along with those
for Onile and Apaoka, a tree divinity (dos Santos 1967:45). It will be recalled that the apa
is one of the trees closely associated with the mothers.
31. This provenance is by no means certain, since there was much communication and
travel between Bahia and West Africa in the second half of the nineteenth century. We
have documented examples of cult objects being carved in West Africa and brought to
Bahia for use, and one example of a form that crossed the Atlantic twice (Mimito 1974).
NORE SON PLAT is

Color Plates
1. Mask carved in the style of Meko (Ketu). See plate 134 for a detail and plate 11 fora
mask by the same hand. Other masks from Meko appear in plates 48, 102, 108-109, 112,
and 121.
2. Mask carved by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe (died 1970) of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu. Also see
frontispiece, color plate 3, and plates 4, 5, 27, 29, 32, 33, and 60. Other masks by Etuobe
are in the Musée de Homme (D 31/4.132, 133, 143, 155), collected in Dahomey for the
Coloniale de Vincennes in 1931. According to Etuobe’s grandson, Adegbola, the family
traditionally farmed near the Egbado town of Igbogila. Thus, a number of Etuobe’s
works can be found in Igbogila and in the neighboring town of Sawonjo.
3. See color plate 2 and its note. In the headdress, cutlasses flank a representation of a
rectangular leather panel (/aba). The hunter’s jerkin shows chevrons at the shoulders,
inset mirrors, spirals, and appliquéd panels with motifs that probably derive ultimately
from Islamic sources (Hausa).
4. Mask carved in Meko (Ketu) in use at Ilaro (Egbado). Motif on top is a folded mat
similar to the one illustrated in plate 113 from Idahin (Ketu).
5. Pair of masks carved by Falola Edun of Idahin (Ketu), who was born circa 1900. For
other masks by this carver, see plate 113, Drewal and Drewal (1975:pl. g), and Nigerian
Museum (67.8.23); for a mask by his father, Fagbite, see plate 81; and, for a mask by
Edun’s son, Sambilisi, see H. J. Drewal (1974b:pl. 18).
6. For a more complete view of the masquerader wearing this cloth, see plate 62.
7. Probably carved in the Ketu vicinity. The dancer is a visiting performer from Ketu.
This mask and the one illustrated in plate 67 make a pair.
8. Carved by Fayomi Oduntan of Sawonjo (Egbado), in the first quarter of the twen-
tieth century, this mask depicts a Fulani-style hat worn over a turban, with a small parrot
perched on top. Incorporated with the fabrics collected from the women are remnants of
appliquéd panels transferred from older, worn-out costumes. For other works by the
same hand, see plates 24 and 62, and, for works by Fayomi’s father, Oduntan Aina, see
color plates 10 and 11, and plates 101, 111, and 138.
g. Related in style to masks in plates 64 and 151.
10, 11. Carved by Oduntan Aina of Sawonjo, originally from Taka, in the late
nineteenth century. Oduntan’s father, Aina, reportedly migrated from Ikosi (Oyo) to
Ijaka, where Oduntan was born. Oduntan then left aka and spent some time in Oke
Odan before settling at Sawonjo. The style of this mask indeed compares favorably with
another from Ijaka (see plate 164). See masks in plates 101, 111, and 138, which were also
carved by Oduntan. For works by Oduntan’s son, Fayomi, see color plate 8 and plates 24
and 62. Other Gelede masks by Oduntan Aina can be found in the Institute of African
Studies, University of Ibadan (6712) and in Roy (1979:pl. 92), Armstrong (1981:pl. 5),
and Fagg and Pemberton (1982:pl. 36).
13. Masks on a bed at Isale Eko, Lagos, probably the work of various carvers at differ-
ent times in Ota (Awori). They are freshly painted and ready to be picked up by the
dancers, who will wear them the same afternoon.
281
 282 Notes on Plates

Black and White Plates

1. Although it was photographed in Isale Eko quarter, Lagos, this Arabi Ajigbale mask
was probably carved by Olabimtan Odunlami (died ca. 1930) of Tisu compound, [jana
quarter, Ota (Awori), perhaps during the first quarter of this century. Also see plates 14
and 120 for works related to the same workshop. Other masks by the same hand are in
the Pitt-Rivers Museum (1965.8.38) and in the Nigerian Museum (57.25.1C, 57-25-3,
48.33.53). Indeed, the first two examples from the Nigerian Museum were not used in
Gelede masquerades but were used by the Ekine society of the Ilaje Yoruba in Mahin,
near Okitipupa, to represent water spirits. Another mask by this hand is illustrated in
Thompson (1971:Ch. 14, color plate, right), Other examples of Ota works are shown in
plates 56, 63, 69, 88, 93, 96, 123, 124, and 165.
3. Spirit Bird headdress carved by James Akinde of Ilaro (Egbado), circa 1960, grand-
son of Onipasonobe, “The-One-who-Wields-a-Knife-Like-a-Whip.” See plate 149.
4. Tetede mask by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu (died ca. 1970),
probably carved late in his career. See detail of the same mask in plate 2g. For other
examples of Etuobe’s work, see frontispiece, color plate 3, and plates 5, 27, 29, 32, 33, and
60. Other masks by Etuobe are in the Musée de l'Homme (D 31/4. 132, 133, 143, 155),
collected in Dahomey for the Coloniale de Vincennes in 1931.
5. Oro Efe mask carved by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu, Benin. Also
see frontispiece, color plates 2 and 3, and plates 4, 27, 29, 32, 33, and 60. See the note to
plate 4 above.
6. Hyena (Koriko/Ikoko) mask carved circa 1944 by Omigbaro of Kesan Orile (Eg-
bado), who held the title of Ajana in the Oro society and died at an advanced age during
the 1970s. Other masks by Omigbaro are illustrated in plates 59 and 1309.
7. Mask carved by an unknown Ilaro carver, probably late nineteenth century. A mask
by the same hand, collected in Ilaro, is in the Institute of African Studies, University of
Ibadan (6519); and another in a similar style and with the same motif is in the Art
Museum, University of Ife. See plate 144 for another example of this artist’s work.
8. The mask in the foreground is closely related to the one shown in plate 7, but is
probably from a more recent generation in the same Ilaro carving workshop.
g. Masks by Saibu Akinyemi of Agosasa (Anago), who spent three months carving
them under a blacksmith’s shed in Onola quarter, Ilaro, circa 1974. See plates 53 and 82
for other examples of his work. For another Agosasa mask, possibly carved by Saibu’s
father, Akinyemi Akinlade, see plate 116.
10. Identical masks related to the work of an unnamed carver illustrated in plates 110
and 114 and in Carroll (1967:pl. 24), who photographed a mask in the town of Likimon,
near Ketu. Other illustrations of these masks are plate 57 and Drewal (1974:pl. 6).
11. In the style of the Meko vicinity. See plate 134 for another mask by the same hand,
and plate 48 for another rendition of a warthog-attacking-snake motif.
12. Mask probably carved by Ogundare of Sawonjo (Egbado). For a detail of this mask,
see plate 163.
13. Related to work attributed to Ogunwole of Oke Idota quarter, Imasai (Egbado).
14. Amukoko mask probably carved by Olabimtan of Ijisu compound, Ijana quarter,
Ota (Awori), in the first quarter of the twentieth century. See plate 1 and note on plate 1
for details.
15. Headdress of the herald (Amukoko) reportedly carved by Laniba of Dagbe, Sakete
(Anago), but possibly by his apprentice. See plate 34, by a different hand, but also
attributed to Laniba. For another mask from the same vicinity, see plate 1209.
16. According to Fagg (1968:pl. 117), this mask was collected in the village of Banigbe
Poro-Poro, near Pobe (Anago).
 Notes on Plates 283
17. Clouzot and Level (1926:pl. 38) give information on this mask as follows, “Daho-
mean mask or headdress—height 60 mm.—Collection of Dr. Spire.” Probably from the
Ketu vicinity.
18. Attributed by the caretaker to Akinyele Ayefemi of Ile Olanle, Sawonjo (Egbado),
whose father migrated to Sawonjo from Sakete, in the late nineteenth century. See plate
163 for a work by a carver reportedly trained by Akinyele.
19. Possibly carved in the Anago area. Height: 241 mnm., length: 700 mm. Traces of
white pigment on the lower portion of the mask.
20. Carved by Ogunmola of Ibaiyun (Ohori). For other masks with osu, although not so
prominent, see plates g3, 100, 101, 159, and 163.
21. Probably carved between Pobe and Ketu.
22. The mask in foreground was carved about 1955 by Segbe Osubi of Iwoye (Ohori);
the one in the middle is by an unidentified forefather; and the one in the background was
carved before the birth of Osubi, that is, before 18go.
23. Probably carved in the Ketu vicinity.
24. Spirit Bird mask attributed by the owner to Fayomi Oduntan of Sawonjo (Egbado).
Also see color plate 8 and plate 62. For works by Fayomi’s father, Oduntan Aina, see color
plates 10 and 11, and plates 101, 111, and 138.
25. Carver unknown, but mask probably made in Ibese (Egbado).
26. Surrounding the cloth-covered mother mask in the Odua shrine are ritual pots
(otun), which hold water for libations.
27. Tetede mask by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu. Also see frontis-
piece, color plates 2 and g, and plates 4, 5, 29, 32, 33, and 60. Other masks by Etuobe are
in the Musée de Homme (D 31/4.132, 133, 143, 155), collected in Dahomey for the
Coloniale de Vincennes of 1931.
28. Tetede mask probably from the Ketu vicinity.
29. Detail of mask in plate 4, carved by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu.
Also see frontispiece, color plates 2 and 3; plates 4, 5, 27, 32, 33, and 60; and note to plate
27 above.
30. Related to work attributed to Roye of Idofa (Ketu) (cf. Nigerian Museum
59-33-74). This Tetede mask is said to have brought rain after a drought (PNM archives).
The sign, which is unusual—although masks in Egbado sometimes have writing on them
(pls. 53 and 165)—may refer to the agbe tree, which has spherical fruit used for medicines.
The Egbe Kpokon is probably the name of the Gelede society that owned the headdress.
A snake at the summit holds something in its mouth, and leaves cover the ears, as they
usually do during ceremonies for those receiving titles.
31. In the style of Egbado area. See also plate 44 for a mask in the same form, which
follows this one in performance. Another Efe mask of this type from Ilaro is in the
Nigerian Museum (64.23.52), and one from Ota (Awori) is illustrated in Thompson
(1978:62, pl. 18). According to Murray’s notes of 1940 (Nigerian Museum archives), the
Ota ensemble has a raffia costume.
32. Carved by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu, in 1970. The birds are
West African grey woodpeckers (akoko), the snake is a python, the animal at the top is a
leopard (ekun), and the vertical blades at the sides are cutlass sheaths with designs remi-
niscent of Islamic leatherwork. Also see frontispiece, color plates 2 and 3, and plates 4, 5,
27, 29, 33, and 60. Other masks by Etuobe are in the Musée de Homme (D 31/4.132,
133, 143, 155), collected in Dahomey for the Coloniale de Vincennes of 1931.
33. Carved by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ketu. Oro Efe headdress with turban wraps,
cutlass sheaths, and birds in the superstructure. An arching snake is suspended over the
face. Using basically the same repertoire of motifs, Etuobe alters their placement within
 284 Notes on Plates

the composition. Compare this mask with the frontispiece, color plates 2 and 3, and plates
4, 5, 27, 29, 32, and 60.
34. Attributed to Kumuyi Laniba of Dagbe, Sakete (Anago). For another mask report-
edly from the same workshop, possibly by his student, see plate 15, and, for a mask from
the same vicinity, see plate 129.
35. Reportedly carved by Iwo Bawa of Agosasa and collected at Agosasa (Anago)
before 1959. Although the catalog information (Nigerian Museum archives) identifies the
animal as a lizard (agzlinti), it is probably a mongoose, as in plate 34.
36-38. Carved by Lawani Ojo of Ohumbe (Ohori-Ketu).
3g. Probably carved in the vicinity north of Pobe.
40. Probably carved in the Ohori [je area, north of Pobe. The masquerader apparently
looks out under the face of the mask.
41. Carved before 1947 in Ohori He area.
42. Carved by Akindele Osubi of Iwoye (Ohori Ie), circa 1940. For a mask carved by
Akindele’s younger brother, Segbe, see plate 22.
43. Carved by Konese Segbe, son of Segbe Osubi, of Iwoye (Ohori He), ca. 1950. See
also plates 22 and 42 for masks from the same workshop. For other examples of double-
faced masks, see plates 149 and 150, Duerden (1968:pl. 23), Fagg and Pemberton
(1982:pl. 36), and Institute of African Studies Museum, University of Ibadan (6287).
44. Carved by an Egbado artist, possibly Sangolade of Ipahaiyi—see plate 14g—and
related to another mask collected in Ilaro (Nigerian Museum, 64.23.52). See also plate 31.
45. According to its caretakers, this mask was carved in 1918, probably in the Lagos
vicinity. The workshop that produced it also carved for the Ejiwa society at ljora, Lagos
(see pls. 77 and 154, and Nigerian Museum archives, 1940, neg. nos. 7.11.1, 7.14.11,
7.13.8, 7.14.10, 7.11.45, 7.12.2, and 7.12.3, photographed in the compound of the Oniru
of Iru). This workshop 1s identifiable only by its style, which includes a very distinctive ear
bisected by an exclamation mark form in relief. Other masks in this style are in the
Wellcome Collection, British Museum (1954 Af 23.23, Af. 23.28—purchased 1932, Af
23.29—purchased 1924) and the Horniman Museum (neg. nos. 2292 and 2293).
46. Probably carved by Sunday Oloyede of Ibara Quarter, Abeokuta. Also see plates
54, 79, 140, and 146.
47. Mask probably from Agosasa (Anago).
48. Mask with a wild boar attacking snake is from Meko and appears to be related to
the Duga tradition. See plate 11 for a similar motif.
49. Old mask carved by Atoba of Ilu Ata quarter, Ilaro, originally of Ketu, who died
circa 1940 (Chappel 1981). For other works by Atoba, see plate 117 and African Arts 7(4),
1974, inside front cover. Murray first documented work by Atoba in 1944 (cf. Nigerian
Museum 44.1.1). The male instructor who accompanies masquerader is dressed in
women’s clothes.
50. Plump porcupine devouring corn probably carved by a Sawonjo carver. For
another rendering of the porcupine, see pl. 136.
52. The facial plane and the position and construction of the superstructures suggest
that these headdresses were carved in the vicinity of Agosasa (Anago). The mask in the
background depicting a hunter with a sword and a gun is identical to some documented
in Agosasa.
53. Carved by Saibu Akinyemi of Agosasa (Anago). See also plate 82. For masks by the
same hand with a similar mouf, see plate g, and, for a mask possibly carved by Saibu’s
father, Akinyemi Akinlade, see plate 116. “Olori Agberu,” painted on the forehead of the
mask, refers to the titled elder in charge of the costumes. It is thus ifonic that the figure
 Notes on Plates 285,
on the mask is shown without clothing. Likewise, the caretaker of the mask is a devotee of
Ogun, god of iron. Plate 161 shows this mask and its mate on an Ogun shrine.
54. Mask in foreground carved by Sunday Oloyede of Ibara quarter, Abeokuta (Eg-
bado), circa 1960—70s. Mask in background with a hunter’s trap depicted on top was
probably carved in northern Egbado area.
56. Mask by an unknown carver, probably from Ota (Awori).
57. Mask by an unnamed Ketu-area carver related to one documented by Carroll
(1967:pl. 24) in the town of Likimon. Other illustrations of these masks are plate 10 and
Drewal (1974:pl. 6).
58. Headdress possibly carved in the Ketu vicinity. The breastplate consists of twin
figures. The one on the left is carved in the style of the Esubiyi workshop at Abeokuta,
and the other is in a southern Egbado style. For other works related to the Esubiyi
workshop, see plates 79, 95, 146, and 150.
59. Mask and breasts probably carved by Omigbaro of Kesan (Egbado)—see plates 6
and 139. Some elements, such as the ear form, relate Omigbaro’s style to the Olabode
workshop in Idofoi quarter, Aiyetoro (cf. pl. 133). Superstructure depicts a king flanked
by policemen, with female in front. Loudspeakers are depicted on the sides of the mask.
Reptiles and seated monkeys mount the breasts.
60. Probably carved by Alaiye Adeisa Etuobe of Ita Oba quarter, Ketu. Also see frontis-
piece, color plates 2 and g, and plates 4, 5, 27, 29, 32, and 33. Other masks by Etuobe are
in the Musée de Homme (D 31/4.132, 133, 143, 155), collected in Dahomey for the
Coloniale de Vincennes in 1931.
61. Probably carved in Ilaro, late nineteenth to early twentieth century. Compare with
plate 168 for a mask by the same hand with the same motif, but painted differently.
62. Mask attributed to Fayomi Oduntan of Sawonjo (Egbado), first quarter of the
twentieth century. The prototype of this mask, by Oduntan Aina, Fayomi’s father, has
been recently acquired by the Nigerian Museum. According to the caretaker, it is sur-
mounted by a representation of a bayanni for Orisa Oko, made of cowries (owo eyo) with a
projection at the top (sonso ori). For another depiction of owo eyo, see plate 80. The dancer
is wearing an embroidered and appliquéd wrapper. For a detail of the wrapper, see color
plate 6. Other examples of Fayomi’s work appear in color plate 8 and plates 24 and 62.
For works by Fayomi’s father, Oduntan Aina, see color plates 10 and 11, and plates 101,
111, and 138.
63. Carved by Kilani Olaniyan (born 1936) of Iga Igbein, Oruba quarter, Ota (Aworl),
maternal grandson of Olaniyan, also a renowned carver. For other works by Kilari, see
plates 88, 123, 124, and 165. Female hairstyle is called “shells” (okoto).
64. Mask probably carved somewhere in the Awori or Ijebu area, just north of Lagos.
It is stylistically related to the masks in color plate g and plate 151, and is probably from
the same workshop. Imported cloth is mixed with traditional strip cloth, and the head tie
is realistically rendered, demonstrating the fashion of the period. The masquerader also
wears sandals.
65. A detail of the mask worn by one of this pair appears in Drewal (1974:pl. 18),
carved by Sambilisi Falola of Idahin (Ketu).
66. A close-up of this masquerader appears in Drewal (1974:pl. 5). Mask by an un-
known Idofa artist.
67. Performer said to have come from Ketu. Carver unknown, but the mask, depicting
a northerner, probably a Fulani, is closely related to Idahin work. See color plate 5; plates
75, 81, 107, 113; Drewal and Drewal (1975:pl. g); and H. J. Drewal (1974b:pl. 18).
Appliquéd panels include crossed keys, floral patterns, human head, and turtle motifs.
Mate of the mask illustrated in color plate 7.
 286 Notes on Plates

68. Mask with an agogo hairstyle, probably carved by an Agosasa/Ipokia artist (Anago).
For other masks carved in Agosasa, see plates 89, g1, and 116.
6g. The four pairs of masks shown here are by four different carvers, all probably
from the Ota vicinity (Awori), according to their style.
70. This mask appears in plate 69, third from the left.
~I
. This mask appears in plate 69, seventh from the left.
. The same masquerader appears in plate 69, third from the left.
Because of its stylistic features, this mask is probably Anago.
OO
Bm
Nn
=
Attributed in 1977 to Oduitan of Tjale Ketu by its caretakers.
~J
~I
“I~
5. Mask closely related to the work of Fagbite of Idahin (Ketu). Height: 38 cm.
Compare it with the mask in plate 81, which was photographed in the hometown of the
carver. Collected by Jager in Ketu, 1967, for the Berlin Museum. For masks by Fagbite’s
son, Falola Edun, see color plate 5, plate 113, and Drewal and Drewal (1975;:pl. 9); for a
mask by his grandson, Sambilisi, see H. J. Drewal (1974b:pl. 18).
76. Collected by Harold Stewart Gladstone, who was D. C. at Warri before 1911. This
mask and those shown in plates 99, 136, 141, and 145 were said to have formed a set used
by traveling dancers. Fagg suggests that this group of masks is from Igbo Ora (Ibarapa)
because the hornbill mask in the group (pl. 141) is identical to one Murray photographed
in 1950 at Idere, near Igbo Ora (Ibarapa). The one illustrated in plate 141, however, was
said to have been carved at Ketu, circa 1900. The problem is further complicated by the
fact that we also photographed a mask by the same hand as one of the Gladstone pieces in
the town of Ijado, near Ilaro (Egbado), which the informant attributed to his grandfather.
The Gladstone pieces are closely related to each other stylistically; however, field data, so
far, have not firmly established the provenance of this collection, although they suggest
the broad Egbado/Ibarapa sector of Yorubaland.
77. This mask is either for Gelede or for Ejiwa, a masquerade unique to Lagos. It is
related to the mask illustrated in plate 45 and is by the same hand as that in plate 154.
Also stylistically related to these are three in the British Museum (1954 Af 23.23, 28, and
29). The motifs on this mask include a woman, birds, a crescent moon and a star of Islam,
a cactus plant, and a Benin-style kola box in the form of an antelope’s head with its horns
grasped by human hands.
78. According to Nigerian Museum documentation (1940), this mask was said to have
been carved in Meko, circa 1880. It was first seen by K. C. Murray in the house of the
carver, Olaniyan of Ota, who was copying it for a Lagos chief from whom Murray
eventually purchased it. The mask is painted with local pigments that have been mixed
with egg.
79. Horse’s head and mask attributed to Sunday Oloyede of Ibara quarter, Abeokuta
(Egbado), who was trained by Ogunbayo Akiode of the Esubiyi workshop of Itoko quarter
(cf. plate 150). Photographed and documented by T. J. H. Chappel, Ibara quarter,
Abeokuta, 1964. In 1978 at Oloyede’s compound, we photographed a large animal mask
by Sunday similar in form to the horse’s head in Chappel’s photograph. The mask
representing a king, however, is closer to the style attributed to Akiode, Ogunbayo’s
father; that is, the style of the teacher of Sunday Oloyede’s teacher. See plate 146 fora
mask by Ogunbayo Akiode, Sunday’s teacher. For other works related to the Esubiyi
workshop, see plates 58, 95, 146, and 150.
80. Attributed by the caretakers to Otooro Odusina of Ketu, circa 1962. This mask
represents a bride with a head wrap on which is placed a calabash tray, dishes, and a lid
covered by a cloth (aja) portrayed with hinged joints and topped by an owo eyo for the
propitiation of one’s inner head or destiny. For another view of thiS mask, see Drewal
 Notes on Plates 287

(1974:pl. 12) and, for other examples of Otooro’s work, see Carroll (1967:pls. 58, 100,
101, 102, 103, and 104). Painted brown, white, and blue with traces of red.
81. Head portion of this mask was carved by Fagbite of Idahin (Ketu), while the snake
attachments were completed by his son, Falola Edun, in 1971. For masks by Falola Edun,
see color plate 5, plate 113, and Drewal and Drewal (1975:pl. g); for a mask by Fagbite’s
grandson, Sambilisi, see H. J. Drewal (1974b:pl. 18). Other works closely related to
Fagbite’s are in the Nigerian Museum (65.12.6); plates 75, 102, and 107; and the Harri-
son Eiteljorg Collection (E77.370).
82. Mask carved by Saibu Akinyemi of Agosasa (Anago). Also see plates 9 and 53. A
mask possibly by Saibu’s father is shown in plate 116.
83. Almost certainly carved in the Ohori area by the same hand as the masks in plates
128 and 166. This mask depicts a carpenter using a European saw in the Yoruba manner,
i.e., with the cutting edge turned away from the body.
84. Carved in the vicinity of Isagba (Ohori). These body masks have traces of white.
The one on the right depicts body marks (kolo) typical of the area. Masks such as this,
which less frequently represent males, are typical of Ohori and Anago groups in Benin,
although they have also turned up in Lagos. For other published examples of such torso
masks, see Kerchache (1973:12, 24) and Huet (1978:pls. 80, 86).
85. Height: 607 mm. Body masks such as this can also be used with Egungun face
masks in playful “miracle” displays (p’tdan), as we witnessed in Abeokuta in 1978.
86. Probably carved in the vicinity of Dagbe, Benin, judging from correspondences
with a Gelede mask attributed to this town in the Musée Ethnographique, Porto Novo
(61.2.11). Height: 44% in. The mask depicts a priestess prepared for prayer, sacrifice,
and dance at the shrine of a deity. Thus the head tie is appropriately removed from the
head and draped over the shoulders. The masquerader sees through the hole cut in the
figure’s mid-section. While trunk masks representing humans appear to be fairly com-
mon among Anago Yoruba in Benin, trunk masks depicting female gorillas seem to be
localized in Nigeria among northern Egbado and Ibarapa groups. See plates 139 and 140.
87. Reportedly from a temple in G’boha, Benin. Fitte Collection, 1953. A pair of
figures by the same hand, also in the Basel Museum (III 1276 and 1277), was collected in
Danme Wokon in the area of the lower Weme River. Portrays the same theme as in plate
86. Holes under the breast allow the masquerader to peer out, and it also appears that the
neck can be turned.
88. Mask carved by Kilani Olaniyan of Iga Igbein, Oruba quarter, Ota (Awori). Also
see plates 63, 123, 124, and 165.
89. Probably carved at Agosasa (Anago) and related to work attributed to Abidogun
(cf. Thompson 1971:Ch. 14/pl. 13). Height: 22 cm.
go. Carved in the Ketu vicinity in the style of the Etuobe workshop. By a carver closely
related to one whose work is illustrated in plate 103. Carved calabashes of medicine
appear to be integrated into the coiffure. This mask is broken; however, a similar motif
can be seen in plates 61 and 168, where snakes instead of ropes appear to connect the
calabashes.
g1. From the Ipokia/Agosasa vicinity. Related to the workshop of Kolade Olabimtan
of Agosasa. Height: 45 cm.
g2. Probably from the vicinity of Ketu.
93. Entering the collection of the Musée de l’Homme in 1891, this mask was probably
carved in Ota (Awori). Other Gelede masks by the same hand are also in the Musée de
Homme (91.22.17), accessioned at the same time as this one, and in the Museum fuir
Voélkerkunde, Hamburg (a pair—34.59.2, 34.59.3), accessioned in 1934.
 288 Notes on Plates

94. The mask on the left, wearing a cap with dog ears (fila-abeti-aja), is attributed to
Amosa Akapo of Igbe quarter, Igbesa, who died before 1964. The other, with a cloth cap
(ikori), is attributed to Olamide (died ca. 1943), a carver from a different workshop in
Ogona quarter, Igbesa. It seems likely, however, that the latter was carved by Amosa’s
father and teacher, Akapo, who died before 1911. See plate 100 for a mask also attributed
to Akapo and plate 130 for another mask by Amosa. The name Akapo is given to a
diviner and priest of Ifa.
g5- Carved in the vicinity of Abeokuta. This mask appears to be related to the Esubiyi
workshop, whose origins are Ibara Orile, just west of Abeokuta. For other works related
to the Esubiyi workshop, see plates 58, 79, 146, and 150.
g6. Attributed in 1940 to Idowu Olaleye or Onaneye, circa 1895, of Mabo Odu Quar-
ter, Ota (Awori). Onaneye reportedly died in 1906. The keloid mark on the forehead
identifies this mask as a man of Egun or Popo origin.
97. Works by this hand have been documented in Aiyetoro (Egbado) and in Idere and
Idofin (Ibarapa). The Aiyetoro piece was said to have been carved by Ogunsolu of Imala,
late nineteenth to early twentieth century, while one of the Idere pieces was said to have
been from Ketu. (See Nigerian Museum archives neg. nos. 14.27.15, 14.27.18, 14.29.26,
and 14.30.31—all documented by Murray in 1950.) In addition, Thompson (1971:Ch. 13,
pl. 29) illustrates a twin figure stylistically related to this piece, which he suggests is by
Lawore (of Ile Alagbanka, Anko quarter, Eruwa), carved in 1947-48 (see also Nigerian
Museum archives 48.9.13). As will be recalled, the Gelede institution in a number of
Ibarapa towns derives from Aiyetoro and Imala. Similarities in carving styles provide
further evidence in support of this oral tradition. It is quite possible then that the carver
of the mask illustrated here had family ties both in Imala and in the vicinity of Idere.
g8. A twin figure by the same hand was attributed by the Balogun of Imala to his
father, Ikusami, of Imala (Egbado); however, in 1948 Murray (Nigerian Museum ar-
chives) photographed a mask by the same hand in Ibarapa—now in the Institute of
African Studies, University of Ibadan (6287)—that was said to have been carved in Aiyet-
oro. Since the people of Imala and Idofoi quarters of Aiyetoro are related to those of
Imala, it is quite possible that the carver of this mask is from Imala.
99. Height: 14.4 in. Collected by Harold Stewart Gladstone, who was D. C. at Warri
before 1911. This mask and those shown in plates 76, 136, 141, and 145 were said to have
formed a set used by traveling dancers. This mask is by the same hand as the one in plate
145. For more details, see the note on plate 76.
100. Attributed to Akapo of Igbe quarter, Igbesa (Awori), who died before 1911.
Length: 11.4 in. See plates g4 and 130 for another mask by Akapo and two by his son
Amosa. The name Akapo is given to a diviner and priest of Ifa. Depicted is an ilart
hairstyle with a tuft of hair (osw) braided to the left.
101. Carved by Oduntan Aina of Sawonjo (Egbado). Collected in Egbado. Length: 17
cm. See also color plates 10 and 11 and plates 111 and 161.
102. Collected in Meko, but probably from Idahin (Ketu). See color plate 5 and plates
75, 81, 107, and 113. Height: 46.5 cm.
103. Carved in the vicinity of Ketu. Closely related in style to plate go.
104. Collected in 1964 in Ilaro (Egbado). It is related to Ketu-style works documented
by us in Itolu, near Ilaro. Compare this mask with those from the Ketu town of Idahin
(color pl. 5 and pls. 75, 81, and 119). It is also related to the mask shown in plate 107.
105. By the same hand as a mask in the American Museum of Natural History
(go.2.81), said to be from Meko. Collected in Ilaro. Height: 28.5 cm.
106. Collected in Meko and probably carved in that area. Height: 40 cm.
 Notes on Plates 289

107. Related to Iaro-vicinity work, more specifically to work documented in Itolu. See
plate 104 and its note.
108, 109. Purchased in Meko and probably carved by Samuel Laroye of Meko.
110. Probably from the Ketu vicinity. By the same hand as a mask illustrated in Carroll
(1966:pl. 24), photographed in Likimon, near Ketu; and also the one in plate 114. The
masks in plates 10 and 57 are also stylistically related. Height: 38 cm.
111. Attributed to Oduntan Aina of Sawonjo, originally from Ijaka, last quarter of the
nineteenth century. Other masks by Oduntan are illustrated in color plates 10 and 11 and
plates 101 and 138. For works by Oduntan’s son, Fayomi, see color plate 8 and plates 24
and 62.
112. Attributed to Tela, yet closely related to the style of Samuel Laroye, both of Meko.
113. Pair of masks carved about the middle of the twentieth century by Falola Edun of
Idahin (Ketu), who was born circa 1900. The Musée de !Homme (D31/4.156) owns a
mask by this hand, collected in “Idigny” [probably Idahin] for the Coloniale de Vincennes
of 1931. For other masks by this carver, see color plate 5 and Drewal and Drewal (1975;:pl.
g); for a mask by his father, Fagbite, see plate 81; and for a mask by his grandson,
Sambilisi, see H. J. Drewal (1974b:pl. 18).
114. Carved in the Ketu vicinity by the same artist as the mask in plate 110.
115. Attributed to Oguntade [ji of Ilara (Ketu) and carved before 1960.
116. Possibly carved by Akinyemi Akinlade of Agosasa (Anago) about 1940. For works
of Akinyemi’s son, Saibu, see plates 9, 53, and 82.
117. Carved by Atoba, a Ketu artist who settled in Iluata Quarter, Ilaro, and died circa
1940 (Chappel 1981). His works are found throughout Egbado territory. For other works
by Atoba, see plate 117 and African Arts 7 (4), 1974, inside front cover. Murray first
documented work by Atoba in 1944 (cf. Nigerian Museum 44.1.1), which was said, at that
time, to have been carved circa 1925.
118. Attributed to Moses Iji of Idofa (Ketu).
119. Carved in Agosasa (Anago). A kneeling female figure, holding a bowl, and a male
figure on horseback, called Wolewole (“Sanitary Inspector”)—both by the same hand as
this mask—are in the Museum ftir Vélkerkunde, Hamburg (64.55.564 and 607), having
been collected in Agosasa. The artist has carefully detailed the masqueraders, showing
the netted veils in front of the faces, the layered panels of cloth, and the row of medicine
containers over the face netting.
120. Both masks carved in Ota (Awor}) style, before 1887, perhaps by Olabimtan, who
died circa 1930, or by his father, Odunlami, who was reportedly a very wealthy trader in
addition to being a carver. These masks were presented to the British Museum by A. R.
Elliott of Lagos in 1887. Heights: left—21 in.; right—e2g in. The head on top of the mask
on the right appears to be that of a twin figure from Saki area with Oyo face marks.
Works by the same hand can be found in the Museum fiir Vélkerkunde, Berlin (III C
1231), acquired at Lagos in 1878, and the Reiss Museum, Mannheim (IV Af. 1558, 1559,
1562), collected before 1881.
121. Attributed to Duga of Meko (Ketu). A duplicate of this mask is in Ilaro. For
examples of Duga’s work, see Bascom (1973). See also Drewal (1974:pl. 10).
122. By the same hand as a mask now in the University of Ibadan’s Institute of African
Studies (6283), which was photographed by K. C. Murray in Pako quarter, Igbo Ora, and
was reportedly carved by Adeleke of Lanlate, circa 1923.
123, 124. Carved by Kilani Olaniyan (born in 1936) of Iga Igbein, Oruba quarter, Ota,
and grandson of Olaniyan). Also see plates 63, 88, and 165.
125, 126. Attributed to Abegure Akere of Imala (Egbado), who died before 1971. See
 290 Notes on Plates

also plate 122, which is stylistically related to this mask. The carving styles of Ibarapa and
those of Aiyetoro and Imala are closely related, probably because of historical links.
127. Similar in style to work attributed to Seriki of Oto (Awori) in the British Museum
(1959 Af 19.115).
128. Probably from the Ohori area. Height: 25.5 cm. Closely related in style to masks
in plates 83 and 166.
129. Attributed to Kugbenu of Banigbe, Sakete, Dagbe (Anago). Other masks report-
edly by Kugbenu in the Musée Ethnographique are nos. 55.9-43, 55-9-53) 55-9-54) and
55.9.63, although 55.9.53 actually appears to have been carved by another hand.
130. Carved by an Igbesa artist (Awori). Length: 12.8 in. Related to work attributed to
Amosa Akapo. See plate 94.
131. Perhaps from Northern Egbado. Height: 44 cm.
132. Possibly carved in Anago territory.
133. Probably carved by Michael Labode, son of Laleye Labode, of Apesin Compound,
Idofoi quarter, Aiyetoro (Egbado). Another Gelede mask by this hand is in the Art
Museum, University of Ife. For other masks by this workshop, see Nigerian Museum
archives neg. nos. 46.5.C.1-4 and 46.5.C.5-6, all photographed in 1964 by T. J. H.
Chappel.
134. In the style of Meko (Ketu). See color plate 1 for a full view of this masquerader.
135. Height: 440 mm. Compare this warthog mask with one in plate 138. For another
published example, see Thompson (1974a:pl. 250).
136. Height: 18.6 in. Collected by Harold Stewart Gladstone, who was D. C. at Warri
before 1911. This mask and those illustrated in plates 76, 99, 141, and 145 were said to
have formed a set used by traveling dancers. For more details, see the note on plate 76.
137. Collected in Ketu by Jager in 1967. A duplicate of this mask, perhaps its double,
in the Musée de Homme (D31/4.151)—originally exhibited at the Coloniale de Vin-
cennes, 1931—is attributed to “Fagbete” of Ketu.
138. Collected in Iganna, but probably carved in Sawonjo by Oduntan Aina in the last
quarter of the nineteenth century. Length: 43.5 cm. See notes to color plates 10 and 11
and masks in plates 101 and 111, which were also carved by Oduntan. A similar mask
attributed by family members to Oduntan’s son, Fayomi, was photographed by us in
Sawonjo in 1978. For other warthog masks, see plate 135 and Thompson (1974a:pl. 250).
139. Carved by Omigbaro of Kesan Orile (Egbado) (died ca. 1975). See plates 6 and 59
for other masks carved by him.
140. Probably carved by Sunday Oloyede of Ibara quarter, Abeokuta. See also Nige-
rian Museum archive neg. nos. 46.6.B.31, 46.6.B.29, and 46.5.B.7 for other versions of
this mask from Abeokuta.
141. Length 17.2 in. Collected by Harold Stewart Gladstone, who was D. C. at Warri
before 1911. This mask and those shown in plates 76, g9, 136, and 145 were said to have
formed a set used by traveling dancers. For more details, see the note on plate 76.
142. Carved before 1906 in the Lagos vicinity.
143. Length: 560 mm.
144. Mask by an unknown Ilaro carver. Height: 15 cm. For a mask by the same hand,
see plate 7.
145. Collected by Harold Stewart Gladstone, who was D. C. at Warri before 1911. This
mask and those shown in plates 76, g9, 136, and 141 were said to have formed a set used
by traveling dancers. A mask by the same hand was photographed by us in Ijado, near
Ilaro, in 1977 and attributed by its owner to his grandfather. For more details, see the
note on plate 76. &
146. Left, probably carved by Ogunbayo Akiode of Itoko quarter, Abeokuta, of the
Esubiy1 workshop (see pl. 150). Right, the Efe mask characteristic of Abeokuta, painted
 Notes on Plates
291
white and shown wearing a billed cap, was carved by Sunday Oloyede, Ogunbayo’s for-
mer student. See plate 79 for another Abeokuta-siyle Efe mask in performance.
147. Mask carved by Faleye of Joga (Jiga) (Egbado). This photograph was taken in
1971, but by 1978 the mask had been replaced by one carved by Faleye’s son Akinola.
148. Closely related to the work of Saibu Akinyemi of Agosasa. See plates 53 and 82 for
examples of his work.
149. Mask in foreground carved by Sangolade Olege of Ipahaiyi, near Haro (Egbado).
For other examples of double-faced masks, see plates 43 and 150, Duerden (1968:pl. 23),
Fagg and Pemberton (1982:pl. 36), and Institute of African Studies Museum, University
of Ibadan (6287). In the background is a mask depicting a snake encircling the head,
which was carved by Taiwo Onipasonobe of Ilaro before 1920. Another mask by Taiwo is
in the Nigerian Museum (404), collected in 1944. For a work by Onipasonobe’s grandson,
James Akinde, see plate 3.
150. Attributed by the caretaker to Esubiyi, originally of Ibara Orile (Egbado) (cf.
Chappel 1972 for more details on this family). The tray on the head carries gin bottles
used in ritual sacrifice. Head on the left has an osu hairstyle. See plates 93, 100, 101, 159,
and 163 for other masks with osu. Other works related to the Esubiyi workshop are
illustrated in plates 58, 79, 95, and 146. For other examples of double-faced masks, see
plates 43 and 149, Duerden (1968:pl. 23), Fagg and Pemberton (1982:pl. 36), and Insti-
tute of African Studies Museum, University of Ibadan (6287).
151. Iwo Magbo masks for the Ekine society of Mahin, probably carved in the vicinity
of Lagos. A more recent Gelede mask from the same workshop, photographed in Isale
Eko quarter, Lagos, is illustrated in color plate g. See also plate 64, photographed in 1945.
152. Probably carved in southern Ijebu area, possibly in the vicinity of Epe. Note the
raffia mat costume attached to the rim of the mask and the use of palm fronds around the
shoulders, both distinct from Gelede traditions.
153. Probably carved in southwestern [ebuland.
154. Same hand as in plate 77 and closely related to those in plates 45 and 154.
157. Compare this ear with those in plate 151.
158. For an Efe mask by the same hand, see plate 44.
159. A mask by the same hand is illustrated in plate 167.
160. Same mask as in plate 68, while the twin figures are those illustrated in plate 158.
161. For one of these masks in performance, see plate 53. The Ogun shrine in the
foreground shows signs of recent libations. The Gelede masks are placed on cloth on the
ground.
162. Carved by Raimi Ogundipe of Ilaro, originally from Pobe, in the 1970s.
163. Probably carved by Ogundare of Sawonjo, a student of Akinyele Ayefemi of
Olanle compound. See plate 18 for a work attributed to Akinyele. For a portrait of the full
masquerader in performance, see plate 12.
164. Reportedly carved at Ijaka-Orile (Ohori) and now used in Egbado. Indeed the
facial forms of this mask are related to the work of Oduntan Aina, originally of Ijaka. See
color plates 10 and 11 and plates 101, 111, and 138.
165. Carved by Kilani Olaniyan of Ota (Awori). Also see plates 63, 88, 123, and 124.
Painted on the front is the phrase Sango Olukoso, a praise name meaning “The lord of
Koso,” where Sango’s enemies say he hanged himself but where his supporters say he
entered the ground and became a deity.
166. Said to be from Ketu, but almost certainly from Ohori area, south of Ketu. Same
hand as in plates 83 and 128.
167. Gift from Mr. E. Barth, 1888, said to be from “Addo.” See plate 159 for another
mask by the same hand.
168. Probably carved in the Ilaro vicinity. See plate 61 for a mask by the same hand
 2Q2 Notes on Plates

painted differently. Another version of this mouf is illustrated in plate go, although a
rope replaces a snake.
170. Collected in Sakete (Anago) and accessioned in 1953. Height: 28 cm. By the same
hand as a mask in the Musée Ethnographique, Porto Novo (55.9.54) attributed to Kug-
benu of Sakete; however, the mask in plate 129, also allegedly by Kugbenu, is clearly by a
different hand. Large land snail shells in black scattered over the head, which is otherwise
painted white, suggests a theme associated with the “white deities” (orisa funfun).
Robehoks RobsN.Gek.S

Abimbola, W. 1976. Ifa: An Exposition of [fd Literary Corpus. Ibadan: Oxford University
Press.
. 1980. “Verbal and Visual Symbolism in Ifa Divination.” Paper presented at the
Conference on the Relations between Verbal and Visual Arts in Africa, Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, October 10-14.
Abiodun, R. 1976. “The Concept of Women in Traditional Yoruba Religion and Art.”
Paper presented at the Conference on Nigerian Women and Development in Relation
to Changing Family Structure, University of Ibadan, April 26-30.
. 1980a. “Charactery in Yoruba Aesthetics.” Paper presented at the 5th Triennial
Symposium on African Art, Atlanta, Georgia, April 17.
. 1980b. “Ritual Allusions in Yoruba Ritualistic Art: Ori-inu, Visual and Verbal
Metaphor.” Paper read at the Conference on the Relations between the Verbal and
Visual Arts in Africa, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, October 10-14.
. 1981. “Some Religio-Aesthetic Aspects of Woman in Yoruba Society.” Paper
presented at the Seminar on Visual Art as Social Commentary, University of London,
School of Oriental and African Studies, November 30—December 1.
. 1982. Personal communication, January 2.
Abraham, R. C. 1958. Dictionary of Modern Yoruba. London: University of London Press.
Adamu, M. 1978. The Hausa Factor in West African History. Zaria: Ahmadu Bello University
Press.
Adebowale, L. O., former Olobi of Ilobi. 1972. Letter to the authors, February 2.
Adegbolu, K., artist. 1971. Interview, Isede, May 19.
Adeleye, I. O., Amala of Imala. 1971. Interview, Imala, March 29.
Adepegba, Olori Ajo Gelede. 1971. Interview, Aibo Quarter, Aiyetoro, April 3.
Adesina, A. S., Abepa. 1971. Interview, Joga Orile, April 2 and 12.
Adewale, T. G. 1949. “The Ijanna Episode in Yoruba History.” Proceedings of the Third
International West African Conference, Ibadan, pp. 251-256. [Published in Lagos,
1956.]
Aibiro, R., Ajo Gelede. 1973. Interview, Ibanko Quarter, Pobe, May 7.
Aimes, H. S. 1967 [1907]. A History of Slavery in Cuba, 1511 to 1868. New York: Octagon
Books.
Ajayi, J. F. A., and R. Smith. 1964. Yoruba Warfare in the Nineteenth Century. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Ajibola, I., Otun Balogun. 1971. Interview, Igan Okoto, March 20.
Ajisafe, A. K. 1964. History of Abeokuta. Rev. ed. Abeokuta: M A. Ola.
Akinfenwa, S. 1978. Personal communication, March.
Akinjogbin, I. A. 1965. “The Prelude to the Yoruba Civil Wars of the Nineteenth Cen-
tury.” Odu n.s. 1(2):24—46.
. 1966a. “A Chronology of Yoruba History, 1789-1840.” Odu n.s. 1(2):81—86.
. 1966b. “The Oyo Empire in the Eighteenth Century—A Reassessment.” Journal of
the Historical Society of Nigeria 3(3):449—-460.
Akinsulure, M., and E. Frazer. 1972. Interview, August 27.
Akinwole, A. O., lyalase Gelede. 1971. Interview, Ketu Quarter, Aiyetoro, April 19.
Alaiye, A., artist. 1977. Interview, Igbogila, December 16.
Allison, P. 1950. Unpublished notes in the Nigerian Museum Archives, Lagos.

293
 294 References

Armstrong, R. P. 1981. The Powers of Presence: Consciousness, Myth, and Affecting Presence.
Philadelphia: EMO, of Pennsylvania Press.
Asiwaju, A. I. 1975. “Efe Poetry as a Source for Western Yoruba History.” In Yoruba Oral
Tradition: Pan in Music, Dance, and Drama. Edited by W. Abimbola. Ife: University of
Ife, Department of African Languages and Literatures, pp. 199-266.
. 1976. Western Yorubaland under European Rule 1889-1945: A Comparative Analysis of
French and British Colonialism. Atlantic Highlands, N.J.: Humanities Press.
Atanda, J. A. 1973. The New Oyo Empire: Indirect Rule and Change in Western Nigeria, 1894—
1934. New York: Humanities Press.
Awolalu, J. O. 1973. “Yoruba Sacrificial Practice.” Journal of Religion in Africa 5(2):81—-93.
. 1979. Yoruba Beliefs and Sacrificial Rites. London: Longman Group Ltd.
Ayoade, J. A. A. 1979. “The Concept of Inner Essence in Yoruba Traditional Medicine.”
In African Therapeutic Systems. Edited by Z. A. Ademuwagun, J. A. A. Ayoade, I. E.
Harrison, and D. M. Warren. Waltham, Mass.: Crossroads Press, pp. 49-55.
Ayodele, J., Akewe Efe. 1971. Interview, Ketu Quarter, Aiyetoro, April 19.
Babalola, I., Chief Onaka, Ojetola Compound. 1971. Interview, Idofin Quarter, Imasai,
April 19.
Babalola, S. A. 1966. The Content and Form of Yortba ala. London: Oxford University
Press.
. 1973. °‘Rara’ Chants in Yoruba Spoken Art.” African Literature Today 6:79-92.
Bakare, A., king of Iboro. 1971. Interview, April 16.
Bankole, A. 1971. Interview, Onfolu Compound, Ilogun Quarter, Aiyetoro, April 3.
Barnes, S. T. 1980. Ogun: An Old God for a New Age. ISHI Occasional Papers in Social
Change, #3. Philadelphia: I.S.H.I.
Bascom, W. 1951. “Social Status, Wealth, and Individual Differences among the Yoruba.”
American Anthropologist 53:490—-505.
. 1960. “Yoruba Concepts of the Soul.” In Men and Culture. Edited by A. F. C.
Wallace. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, pp. 401-410.
. 1969. Ifa Divination: Communication between Gods and Men in West Africa. Blooming-
ton: Indiana University Press.
. 1973. “A Yoruba Master Carver: Duga of Meko.” In The Traditional Artist in
African Societies. Edited by W. d’Azevedo. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, pp.
62-78.
Bastide, R. 1978. The African Religions of Brazil: Towards a Sociology of the Interpenetration of
Cwilizations. Translated by Helen Sebba. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University
Press.
Bauman, R. 1977. Verbal Art as Performance. Rowley, Mass.: Newbury House Publishers.
Bay, E. 1974. Personal communication.
Beier, H. U. 1958. “Gelede Masks.” Odu 6:5-23.
. 1970. Yoruba Poetry. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ben-Amos, D., and K. Goldstein, eds. 1975. Folklore: Performance and Communication. The
Hague: Mouton.
Bernolles, J. 1973. “Note sur les Masques de la Société Guélédé de Savé (Dahomey
Central).” Etudes Dahoméennes n.s., numero special, 23-35.
Bertho, J. 1949. “La Parenté des Youruba aux peuplades de Dahomey et Togo.” Africa
19:121-132.
Beyioku, A. F. 1943. Letter to His Excellency the Officer Administering the Government,
Government House, Lagos. August 24.
, Osunba, Egbado Gelede Cult, Lagos. 1946. Letter entitled “Historical and Moral
Facts about the Gelede Cult,” January 16. Archives, Nigerian Museum, Lagos.
Biobaku, S. O. 1957. The Egba and Their Neighbours, 1842-1872. Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity Press.
Burns, A. 1969 [1929]. History of Nigeria. London: George Allen and Unwin, Ltd.
Carneiro, E. 1954. Candomblés da Bahia. 2d rev. ed. Rio de Janeiro: Editorial e Andes.
 References 295

Carroll, K. 1967. Yoruba Religious Carving. London: Geoffrey Chapman.

Chappel, T. J. H. 1972. “Critical Carvers: A Case Study,” Man 7(2):296-307.
- 1974. “The Yoruba Cult of Twins in Historical Perspective.” Africa 44(3):250—
265.
. 1981. Personal communication.
Church Missionary Society. 1937. A Dictionary of the Yoruba Language. Oxford: Oxford
University Press with the Church Missionary Society.
Clapperton, H. 1829. Journal ofaSecond Expedition into the Interior of Africa, from the Bight of
Benin to Soccatoo. London: John Murray.
Clouzot, H., and A. Level. 1926. Sculptures Africaines et Océaniennes. Paris: Libraire de
France.
Crowther, S. 1852. A Vocabulary of the Yoruba Language. London: Seeleys.
de la Burde, R. 1973. “The Ijebu-Ekine Cult.” African Arts 7(1):28—32, 92.
Delano, I. O. 1966. Owe L’esin Oro—Yoruba Proverbs: Their Meaning and Usage. Ibadan:
Oxford University Press.
Dennett, R. E. 1968 [1906]. At the Back ofthe Black Man’s Mind. London: Cass.
dos Santos, C. M. (Mimito), artist. 1974. Interview, Salvador, Bahia, August 11.
dos Santos, D. M. 1967. “West African Sacred Art and Rituals in Brazil: A Comparative
Study.” Seminar Paper, Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan, Ibadan,
Nigeria.
dos Santos, J. E. 1976. Os Nagé e a Morte. Petropolis: Editora Vozes, Ltda.
Drewal, H. J. 1973. “Efe/Gelede: The Educative Role of the Arts in Traditional Yoruba
Culture.” Ph. D. diss., Columbia University.
- 1974a. “Efe: Voiced Power and Pageantry.” African Arts 7(2):26-29, 58-66.
- 1974b. “Gelede Masquerade: Imagery and Motif.” African Arts 7(4):8-19, 62-63,
5-96.
aa 1977a. “Art and the Perception of Women in Yortba Culture.” Cahiers d’études
africaines 17(4):545—-567.
. 1977b. Traditional Art of the Nigerian Peoples. Washington: Museum of African Art.
. 1979. “Pageantry and Power in Yoruba Costuming.” In The Fabrics of Culture.
Edited by J. M. Cordwell and R. A. Schwarz. The Hague: Mouton Publishers, pp. 189—
230.
. 1980. African Artistry: Technique and Aesthetics in Yoruba Sculpture. Atlanta: The
High Museum of Art.
. 1981. “62. Mask (Gelede).” In For Spirits and Kings: African Art from the Tishman
Collection. Edited by S. Vogel. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, pp. 114-116.
Drewal, M. T. 1975. “Symbols of Possession: A Study of Movement and Regalia in an
Anago-Yoruba Ceremony.” Dance Research Journal 7(2):15—-24.
. 1977. “Projections From the Top in Yoruba Art.” African Arts 11(1):43-49, 91-92.
Drewal, M. T., and H. J. Drewal. 1975. “Gelede Dance of the Western Yoruba.” African
Arts 8(2):36—45, 78-79.
. 1978. “More Powerful than Each Other: An Egbado Classification of Egungun.”
African Arts 11(3):28—39, 98.
. 1980. “Composing Time and Space in Yoruba Art.” Paper presented at the
Conference on the Relations between Verbal and Visual Arts in Africa, Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, October 10-14.
Duerden, D. 1968. African Art. Feltham, Middlesex: Paul Hamlyn, Ltd.
Dunglas, E. 1957. “Contribution a l’histoire du Moyen-Dahomey.” Etudes Dahoméennes 19—
21.
Edun, A., Priestess of Are. 1975. Interview, Ilaro, November 5.
Egharevba, J. 1960. A Short History of Benin. Ibadan: Ibadan University Press.
Ellis, A. B. 1974 [1894]. The Yoruba-Speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast of West Africa.
London: Curzon Press.
Fadipe, N. A. 1970 [1939]. The Sociology of the Yoruba. Ibadan: Ibadan University Press.
 296 References

Fagg, W. B. 1951. “De l’Art des Youruba.” Présence Africaine 10-1 1:103~135-
1968. African Tribal Images: The Katherine White Reswick Collection. Cleveland:
Cleveland Museum of Art.
. 1978. Descriptive catalog entries in Tribal Art (Auction on Tuesday, October 24).
London: Christie, Manson, & Woods.
Fagg, W., and J. Pemberton III. 1982. Yoruba: Sculpture of West Africa. New York:
Alfred A. Knopf.
Folayan, K. 1967. eo! to 1832: The Birth of a Dilemma.” Journal of the Historical
Society of Nigeria 4(1):15-33.
Frobenius, L. 1913. Voiceap Africa, vol. 2.London: Hutchinson.
Harper, P. 1970. “The Role of ae in the Gélédé Ceremonies of the Village of Ijid.”
Odwu n.s. 4:67—94.
Heathcote, D. 1976. The Arts of the Hausa. Kent: World of Islam Festival Publishing Co.,
Ltd.
Hoch-Smith, J. 1978. “Radical Yoruba Female Sexuality: The Witch and the Prostitute.”
In Women in Ritual and Symbolic Roles. Edited by J. Hoch-Smith and A. Spring. New
York: Plenum Press, 1978, pp. 245-267.
Houlberg, M. H. 1973. “Ibeji Images of the Yoruba.” African Arts 7(1):20-27, 90-92.
- 1979: “Social Hair: Tradition and Change in Yoruba Hairstyles in Southwestern
Nigeria.” In The Fabrics of Culture. Edited by J. M. Cordwell and R. A. Schwarz. The
Hague: Mouton Publishers, pp. 349-397.
Huet, M. 1978. The Dance, Art and Ritual of Africa. New York: Pantheon Books.
Idowu, D., Bale. 1971. Interview, Ofia, May.
Idowu, E. B. 1962. Olodumare, God in Yoruba Belief. London: Longmans.
Ikubatan, O., master potter. 1975. Interview, Ibaiyun, November 19.
Johnson, S. 1973 [1921]. The History of the Yorubas. Lagos: CMS Bookshops.
Kerchache, J. 1973. Masques Yorouba, Afrique. Paris: Galerie Jacques Kerchache.
Kilomoninse, B. F., Olori Elefe and Akewe Gelede. 1971. Interview, Idofoi Quarter,
Aiyetoro, March 25.
Labat, J.-B. 1730. Voyage du Chevalier des Marchais. 4 vols. Paris.
Lagos Daily Times: 1972. September 27, p. 19.
Lamb, V. 1975. West African Weaving. London: Duckworth and Co.
Langer, S. K. 1953. Feeling and Form: A Theory ofArt. New York: Charles Scribner's and
Sons.
Laoye, I. 1959. “Yoruba Drums.” Odu 7:5-14.
LaPin, D. 1977. “Story, Medium and Masque: The Idea and Art of Yoruba Storytelling.”
3 vols. Ph.D. diss., University of Wisconsin.
. 1980. “Picture and Design in Yoruba Narrative Art.” Paper read at the Confer-
ence on the Relations between Verbal and Visual Arts in Africa, Philadelphia, Pennsyl-
vania, October 10-14.
Law, R. 1968. “The Dynastic Chronology of Lagos.” Lagos Notes and Records 2(2):46—54.
. 1977. The Oyo Empire c. 1600-1836. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Lawal, B. 1970. “Yoruba Sango Sculpture in Historical Retrospect.” Ph.D. diss., Indiana
University.
. 1974. ‘Some Aspects of Yoruba Aesthetics.” British Journal of Aesthetics 14(3):239-
249.
. 1978. “New Light on Gelede.” African Arts 11(2):65—-70, 94.
Legbe, O. A., Babalawo and Oro Efe. 1971. Interview, Emado Quarter, Aiyetoro, March
20.
Lindfors, B., and O. Owomoyela. 1973. Yoruba Proverbs: Translation and Annotation.
Athens: Ohio University Center for International Studies.
Lloyd, P. C. 1963. “The Status of the Yoruba Wife.” Sudan Society 2:35-42.
. 1974. Power and Independence. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Lomax A. 1968. Folk Song Style and Culture. Washington, D. C.: Amer ican Association for
the Advancement of Science, Publication #88.
Losi, J. B. O. 1923. The History of Abeokuta. Lagos.
 References 297

. 1967 [1914]. History ofLagos. Lagos: African Education Press.

Lucas, J. O. 1948. The Religion of the Yorubas. Lagos: Church Missionary Society Bookshop.
MacLean, U. 196g. “Sickness Behavior among the Yoruba (Ibadan).” In Witchcraft and
Healing, Seminar Proceedings, February 14-15. Edinburgh: Center for African Studies,
Ppp. 29-42.
McLeod, J. 1820. Voyage to Africa: With Some Account of the Manners and Customs of the
Dahomian People. London: Murray.
Marshall G. 1962. “The Marketing of Farm Produce: Some Patterns of Trade among
Women in Western Nigeria.” In Proceedings ofthe 8th Conference of the Nigerian Institute of
Social and Economic Research, Ibadan, March, pp. 88—g9.
Morton-Williams, P. 1956. “The Atinga Cult among the South Western Yoruba: A
Sociological Analysis of a Witch-Finding Movement.” Bulletin de 'IFAN. series B, 18(3—
4):3 15-334.
. 1960. “The Yoruba Ogboni Cult in Oyo.” Africa 30:362-374.
. 1964a. “The Oyo Yoruba and the Atantic Trade, 1670-1830.” Journal of the
Historical Society of Nigeria 3(1):25-45.
. 1964b. “Yoruba Responses to the Fear of Death.” Africa 30(1):34—-40.
. 1969. “The Influence of Habitat and Trade on the Polities of Oyo and Ashanti.”
In Man in Africa. Edited by M. Douglas and P. M. Kaberry. London: Tavistock, pp. 79—
89.
Moulero, T. 1970. “Le Guélédé.” Manuscript. Porto Novo, Benin.
, historian of Ketu and Sabe peoples. 1971. Interview, Ketu, May 15.
Murray, K. C. _n.d.; 1936; 1940; 1942; 1946; 1948; 1950; 1960. Unpublished notes in
the Nigerian Museum Archives, Lagos.
Norris, R. 1968 [1789]. Memoires of the Reign of Bossa Ahadee, King of Dahomey. London:
Cass.
Nunley, J. 1981. “The Fancy and the Fierce.” African Arts 14(2):52—58, 87-88.
Obajiwo, J., Olori Onigelede. 1978. Interview, Ibara Quarter, Abeokuta, April.
Odu, O., Oba of Pobe, Benin. 1973. Interview, Pobe, May 7.
Odugpbesan, C. 1969. “Femininity in Yoruba Religious Art.” In Man in Africa. Edited by
M. Douglas and P. M. Kaberry. London: Tavistock, pp. 199-211.
Ogunbiyi, A., Oba of Iobi. 1973. Interview, Ilobi, April 15.
Ogundipe, A. L., Oro Efe. 1971. Interview, Ketu, April 25.
Ogundipe, R., Babalawo and carver. 1975. Interview, Ilaro, November 18.
Oguntade, A., Bale. 1971. Interview, Kesan Orile, April 18.
Ojo, G. J. A. 1966. Yoruba Culture: A Geographical Analysis. London: University of London
Press.
Ojo, J. R. O. 1973. “Orisa Oko, the Deity of the ‘Farm and Agriculture’ among the Ekiti.”
African Notes 7(2).
Oke, S. A. E., Bale. 1971. Interview, [gan Okoto, March 20.
Okesola, E. 1967. “The Agbo Festival in Agbowa.” Nigeria Magazine 95:293—-300.
Olabimtan, A. 1970. “An Introduction to Efe Poems of the Egbado Yoruba.” Staff Seminar
Papers and Subsequent Discussions, School of African and Asian Studies, University of
Lagos, Lagos, Nigeria, pp. 192-216.
Olajubu, O. 1978. “Yoruba Verbal Artists and Their Work.” Journal of American Folklore
91(360):675—690.
Olaniyan, K., carver. 1975. Interview, Iga Igbein, Oruba Quarter, Ota, October 18.
, carver. 1981. Inverview, Iga Igbein, Oruba Quarter, Ota, April 23.
Olatibosun, E. A., Otun Bale. 1971. Interview, Igan Okoto, March 20.
Olowobese, E., Bale. 1975. Interview, Oja Odan, November 10.
Olupona, L., carver. 1975, Interview, Ohumbe, November 13.
Onluiji, Bale. 1971. Interview, Ilara, March 23.
Ortiz, F. 1906. Hampa Afrocubana: Los Negros Bruyos. Madrid: Editorial—Americana.
. 1952. Los instrumentos de la musica afrocubana. vol. 3. Havana: Ministerio de Cul-
tura.
Ositola, K., Babalawo. 1982. Interview, ljebu-Ode, May.
 298 References

Osubi, S., Babalawo and carver. 1973. Interview, Iwoye, May 19.
Osun, A., Babalawo. 1971. Interview, Idofa, April 17.
Owoleye, Asipa. 1971. Interview, Igan Okoto, April 16, ?
Owomoyela, O. 1979. “A Fractioned Word in a Muted Mouth: The Pointed Subtlety of
Yoruba Proverbs.” Paper read at the Annual Meeting of the African Studies Associa-
tion, Los Angeles, October 31—November 3.
Palau-Marti, M. 1964. Essai sur la notion de rot chez les Yorubas et les Aja-Fon. Paris: Berger-
Levrault.
1979. “Les Sabe—Opara (Hinterland de la Céte du Benin): Apport de Materiaux
et Essai d’Interpretation.” 3 vols. Thesis for the Doctorat d’Etat, Université de Paris V,
Sciences Humaines, Sorbonne.
. 1980. Personal communication, September 5.
Parrinder, G. 1967. The Story of Ketu. Ibadan: Ibadan University Press.
Peterson, J. 1979. Province ofFreedom: A History of Sierra Leone, 1787-1870. London: Faber
& Faber.
Petition from the Ilobi Tribes of Oke-Odan Districts, Ilaro Division, Abeokuta Province,
Southern Nigeria to His Excellency the Governor in Council, Lagos. 1932. Lagos:
Samadu Press.
Prince, R. i960. “Curse, Invocation and Mental Health among the Yoruba.” Canadian
Psychiatric Journal 5:65—79.
. 1961. “The Yoruba Image of the Witch.” Journal of Mental Science 107(449):795-
805.
. 1979 [1975]. “Symbols and Psychotherapy: The Example of Yoruba Sacrificial
Ritual.” In African Therapeutic Systems. Edited by Z. A. Ademuwagun et al. Waltham,
Mass.: Crossroads Press, pp. 114-119.
Quarcoo, A. K. 1972. The Language of Adinkra Patterns. Legon: Institute of African
Studies, University of Ghana.
Ray, B. 1973. “‘Performative Utterances’ in African Rituals.” History of Religions 13(1):16—
35:
Robinson, A. 1971. Personal communication, November 13.
Roy, C. D. 1979. African Sculpture: The Stanley Collection. lowa City: University of lowa
Museum of Art.
Schiltz, M. 1978. “Egungun Masquerades in Iganna.” African Arts 11(3):48—55.
Smith, R. 1969. Kingdoms of the Yoruba. London: Methuen and Co., Ltd.
Snelgrave, W. 1971 [1734]. A New Account of Some Parts of Guinea and the Slave-Trade.
London: Cass.
Speed, F. 1968. Gélédé: A Yoruba Masquerade. Ile-Ife: Institute of African Studies, Univer-
sity of Ife. Sound film, 30 min., color.
Sudarkasa, N. 1973. Where Women Work: A Study of Yoruba Women in the Marketplace and in
the Home. Anthropology Papers, Museum of Anthropology, #53. Ann Arbor: Univer-
sity of Michigan.
Taiwo, B. A. 1971. Interview, Ketu, April 25.
Talbot, P. A. 1969 [1926]. The People of Southern Nigeria, vol. 3. London: Frank Cass and
Co., Ltd.
Thompson, R. F. 1970. “The Sign of the Divine King.” African Arts 3(3):8-17, 74-80.
. 1971. Black Gods and Kings: Yoruba Art at UCLA. Occasional Papers of the Museum
and Laboratories of Ethnic Arts and Technology 2. Los Angeles: University of Califor-
nia Press. Reprint Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1976.
. 1972. Personal communication, April 20.
. 1974a. African Art in Motion. Los Angeles: University of California Press.
. 1974b. Personal communication.
. 1975. Icons of the Mind: Yoruba Herbalism Arts in Atlantic Perspective.” African
Arts 8(3):52—59, 89-90. :
. 1978. “Gelede Mask.” In Twenty-Five African Sculptures. Edited by J. Fry. Ottawa:
The National Galleries of Canada, pp. 58-65.
 References 299

Turner, J. M. 1975. “Les Brésiliens—The Impact of Former Brazilian Slaves upon

Dahomey.” Ph.D. diss., Boston University.
Verger, P. 1954. “Role joué par l'état d’Hébétude au cours de l’initiation des novices aux
Cultes des Orisha et Vodun.” Bulletin de 'IFAN, series B, 16(3—4): 322-340.
. 1957. Notes sur le Culte des Orisa et Vodun a Bahia, la Baie de tous les Saints au
Brésil et a !Anciénne Cote des Esclaves en Afrique.” Mémoires de 'IFAN, 51.
. 1964a. “Le Tabac de Bahia et la Traite des Esclaves.” Cahiers d’études africaines
4(3).
. 1964b. “The Yoruba High God: A Review of the Sources.” Paper prepared for
the Conference on the High God in Africa, Ibadan, December 14-18.
. 1965. “Grandeur et Décadence du Culte de iyami dsoronga (ma mére la sorciére)
chez les yoruba.” Journal de la société des africanistes 35(1):141-243.
. 1967. Awon Ewe Osanyin: Yoruba Medicinal Leaves. Ife: Institute of African Studies,
University of Ife.
. 1976. “The Use of Plants in Yoruba Traditional Medicine and Its Linguistic
Approach.” Seminar Paper, Department of African Languages and Literatures, Uni-
versity of Ife, Ile-Ife, Nigeria, October 25.
Warburton. 1837. Massionary Register, February 28. London: Church Missionary Society.
Wilkes, I. 1961. The Northern Factor in Ashanti History. Legon: Institute of African Studies,
University College of Ghana.
Willett, F. 1967. Ife in the History of West African Sculpture. New York: McGraw-Hill.
. 1971. African Art: An Introduction. New York: Praeger.
Wolff, H. 1962. “Rara: A Yoruba Chant.” Journal of African Languages 1(1):45 ff.
LIN DEX

Abasi, Seriki, 58, 235 Aja/Fon country, 223

Abeokuta, 46, 229, 278n.17; Efe in, 101, Gelede Aja people, 223
dance performance in, 117; masks in, 156, Ajade, 215
209, 215; deities invoked in, 273n.6 Ajakuena, 85
Abidogun, 114, 287n.89 Ajala Aradahin, 228
Abiodun (Alaafin), 215, 223, 224, 225, 232-233, ae (destructive power of women), 9, 14, 49, 74;
234, 245, 278n.15, 278n.19, 279N.25 103, 203
Abomey, 94, 223, 224, 228 Ajilete, 125, 137, 259
Adebiya (Alaketu), 226, 227, 228, 229, 236, 237, Akan, 226
2770.7 Akapo, 288nn.g4,100
Ademola, 46—47 Akapo, Amosa, 288n.94, 290n.130
Adio (Alaketu), 277n.4 Akapo, Nuru, 199, 264
Ado Odo, 234, 276n.3, 279n.25 Akere, Abegure, 289n.125,126
afterlife, Egungun focus on, 170 Akibichu (Alaketu), 226, 227
afterworld. See orun Akinde, James, 282n.3
Agan, 2-6 Akinlade, Akinyemi, 282n.9, 289n.116
Agbegijo masquerade companies, 280n.27 Akinyemi, Saibu, 258, 282n.9, 287n.82,
Agbena (Fire Carrier), 20, 22, 273n.2 291n.148
Agbo (Magbo), 237-238 Akiode, Ogunbayo, 289n.79, 29on.146
Agbojo (Abodu), 194, 196, 273 Aku, 242
age, old: associated with Great Mother, 22, 71, Akutown, 242, 275n.9
73,75, 78, 79, 81; associated with Oro Efe, 46; Alaiye, Adegbola, 259
beard defines, 71; cleanliness of, 79, 81, 219; Alake: progenitor of Egbas, 222; title, 223
death celebrated in, 49; honored, 8, 14, 18, Alaketu (progenitor of Ketus), 222
27, 29, 53, 90, 252; provider of wood for sa- Allada, 223
cred images, 260; sign of power, 3, 9, 14, alujo (drum patterns), 116, 117, 140
75, 78, 103, 215; wisdom associated with, 46, aluwasi (drum rhythms), 4
53: 57> 71 Amukoko (Herald), 62, 282nn.14,15
Agemo cult, 241 Anago, 7, 75, 103, 136, 162, 183, 188, 223, 232,
Agosasa, 159, 183, 258, 277n.4, 282n.9, 284n.53 241, 246, 258, 259, 264, 276n.3
agriculture, western Yoruba (1770-1820), 48, ancestors, honored among Yoruba, 1, 2, 5, 6, 7,
49, 222-224. See also farmers 8, 10, 11, 24, 27, 37, 38, 39, 41, 44, 55, 74, 80,
Agura Quarter, 46, 47 121, 1394517Op 159,193,010 4GTae A ones
Aibo people, 54, 232, 235 217, 219, 222,220 292.0240 noOo nonohe,
Aibo (quarter of Aiyetoro, formerly a town), 51, 256
232, 233, 278n.15; songs collected at, 48, 50, animals: blood of, contains ase, 5; deity as-
114, 115, 141, 145, 146 sociated with, 184, 197, 209; destructive
Aina, Oduntan, 281nn.8, 10, 11, 283n.24, power of sacrificial, 271n.3; mask motifs, 89,
285n.62, 288n.101, 289n.111, 291n.164 Ol, LOZ 2s 102,817 Onno 7 204 200s
Aina-Agbo, 235 209, 214; mothers associated with, 162, 209,
airplane: in Gelede imagery, 203; in Oro Efe 214; relationship to man, 57, 60, 170, 179,
imagery, 91, 103; reference to mothers, 203; 206, 219; sacrificed to Ogun, 273n.Q; skins,
status symbol, 199 132, 134; transformation of, 10, 25, 179. See
aye (the phenomenal world), 4, 6, 11, 18, 39, 85, also names of individual animals
136, 151, 220, 246 Apana (Fire Extinguisher), 22, 273n.2
Aiye Tutu (Cool World), 25, 82, 85 Apaoka, 245, 280n.30
Alyetoro, 47, 51, 58, 137, 232, 235, 236, 277n.8, Apasa, 85, 95, 229, 256
278nn.15,16, 2gon.126; songs collected at, 43, Apokodosu (the one who kills her husband in
Aap, Alehy (5 Ish IAD Lyin ton Oy Wilh, WI, WG, order to take a title), 79
141, 145, 146, 176, 188 Apotun, 194, 196

300
 Index 301
Araagbo, 212, 271n.7 brass, 226, 229, 276-277n.3
Arabi Ajigbale (the one who sweeps every morn: Brazil, 221, 242, 243, 245, 246
ing), 20, 64, 152, 282n.1 British, 199, 224, 241, 242, 27gn.25
Aranta (the owner of the festival takes the fes. buffalo, 60
tival), 4
Are, 254
Aro Ketu, 217 calabashes, 253, 274n.9; carved as masks, 226;
Asamu, Fagbite, 159, 286n.75 children’s masks, 277n.8; decoration of, 176;
Asante: regalia, 93; trade to, 224; warriors, 93 depicted on masks, 182
Asantehene, 93 CalVversya7 70,0 249,24) alot, 1h 2—102:
ase (life force): associated with elderly women, process of mask making, 260-270; relation-
73> 74, 75, 81, 203, 215, 219; basic to structure ship to patrons, 258-260, 269-270; themes of,
of arts, 6; blood container of, 5, 6, 79, 81; male 162-220
and female, 15; masks endowed with, 76; of Chlorophora Excelsa tree (troko), 261
wood, 262; possessed by Efe song, 38-39, 45; chorus, 19, 44, 45, 60, 61
power to bring things into existence, 5, 105, Christianity, 183
157; “so be it,” 5, 39, 219; vital power, 15, 18, Christians, 18, 61, 189, 191
29, 80 Coker, G. B. A., 194
commissions, 193, 258, 259-260
Ase Gelede,75 Congo, 242
Ase Opo Afonja, 243, 280n.g0
Asipa, 2’79n.25 “cooling” rite (etutu), 4, 14, 85, 248, 249, 250,
Ata, 232 253, 254
Atiba, 232 Cordia Millenii tree, 260
Atoba, 184, 259, 284n.49 Cove, 240
Aworil, 7, 49, 95, 101, 123, 125, 132, 147, 149, cowrie shells, 276-277n.3; mask motifs, 183,
151, 188, 189, 234, 235, 236, 237, 243, 245, 184; part of Oro Efe costume, 85, 98, 101;
246, 258, 260, 264, 265, 267, 276n.3, 278n.22, suggest spirit qualities, 254; trade goods, 224;
279N.25 wristlet for Esu/Elegba, 253
Ayefemi, Akinyele, 283n.18, 291n.163 crab, 112
creation of world, g
Baba Parikoko, 79, 80 Creole groups, 242
Babalase, 269 crocodiles, 91, 166, 194, 196
Babaluaiye, 234 Cuba, 221, 242, 246
Badagri, 151, 223, 232, 233, 235, 276-277n.3, curses (epe), 4, 5, 16, 39, 40, 50, 51, 52, 95, 246,
278n.19, 278-279n.23 271n.3
Bahia, 280n.31
Banigbe, 197 Dadaolomo, 264
Bariba, 94, 116, 117, 191, 194, 225 Dado, 278n.17
bats, 11, 74 Dado War, 278n.17
Bawa, Iwo, 284n.35 Dahomey: as theme in Yoruba masquerades, 62;
beards: associated with elders, 71, 81; associated in Efe song, 49; relations with neighbors, 49,
with mothers, 22, 24, 71, 219; associated with 62, 224, 228, 236, 242, 276n.2
Oro Efe, g1, 101; connotations of wisdom, 71; divination, 274n.g; deity governing, 17,
Elemo’s, 196; in Apasa masquerade, 95 272(ch.3)n.1; determiner of action, 106, 247,
bells, 26, 217, 240, 274, 276n.3 256; determiner of worship, 204, 253; Muslim
Benin, 197, 223, 224, 237, 240, 276-277n.3, contributions to, 199; origin of, g; private, 38;
277N.4, 279N.25 poetry, 9, 209, 275n.1; ritual, 262; system of,
bicycles, 199, 222 188; texts, 17, 226
birds: associated with darkness, 11; associated diviner, 78; Orunmila the first, 9; prescriptions
with mothers, 17, 18, 22, 41, 65, 71, 73, 74, of, 6, 8, 105-106, 217; rank of, 188
81-82, 90, 95, 101, 103, 116, 117, 203, 212, doubling, 11, 136. See also twins
248; associated with Oro Efe, 46, 89, go, 91, drums, 274n.10; bata ensemble, 24; dundun en-
95, 98, 101, 103, 209; associated with Tetede, semble, 176-179; gangan, 176; gudugudu, 179;
82; comparative masquerades, 240, 241, 242 in Egungun festival, 4; in Gelede masks, 176—
blood, 73, 81; Esu’s tears of, 41; menstrual, 15, 179; in Gelede spectacle, 12, 13, 17, 18-19, 22,
AQ 75179) Os) possessor Of vase,05,, 6; 75; 24, 26, 27, 29, 31, 33, 44, 45, 48, 77, 111-120,
sacrificial, 56, 262 136, 137, 138, 140, 141, 145-146, 147, 149,
Boa Viagem, 243 151, 191, 206, 228; isalu, 176; walu, 45, 48,
Boko, 194 111, 176; kertkert, 176; omele abo, 45, 48, 111;
Borgu, 194, 224 ‘ omele ako, 45, 48, 111; types of rhythm, 111—
Boromu, 232, 234, 278n.13 120, 206; used for teaching children, 106
 302 Index

Dudueko, Alao, 277n.4 Epa, 152, 154

Duga, 156, 182, 191, 259, 284 Epa/Elefon masquerades, 175, 221
Epo, 54, 55
“Easter of the Blacks,” 243 Esinlokun (Oba), 235, 279nN.24,25
Edun: credited with introduction of Gelede into Esu, 22, 41, 42, 115, 132, 209, 273n.6, 276n.1
Ketu kingdom, 58-59; identified with Ade- Esubiyi workshop, 285n.58, 286n.79
biya as originator of Efe, 226-227; name Esu/Elegba, 7, 10, 20, 62, 63, 76, 103, 252, 253
given to second-born of twins, 175; originator Esu Gbangbade, 103, 248
of Efe, 229; permitted by Adebiya to learn Esu Laroye, 41, 42
Gelede, 228 Esu Panada, 234
Edun, Falola, 159, 182, 267, 281n.5, 286n.75 Etuobe, Alaiye Adeisa, 258, 259, 281n.2, 282n.4
efe, defined, 38 Etuobe workshop, 267
Efe: costumes, 18, 27, 43, 44, 61, 62, 64, 79-80, Europeans, 46, 57, 191, 199, 203, 221, 224, 241,
85, 89, 91, 93, 94, 95, 98, 101, 102, 103, 120, 277N.3
123; dance, 15, 82, 105; doubling tradition in, Ewe, 223
12, 136; humor, 27, 38, 52, 57, 62, 162, 191; Eye Oro (Spirit Bird), 22, 24, 65, 71, 73, 81, 241,
“male,” 132, 147; masquerade, 12, 15, 18, 19, 248, 260
20-27, 44, 61, 62-104, 147, 152, 162, 179, Eye Oru (Bird of the Night), 22, 71
191, 203, 232, 236, 248, 252, 256, 260, 262, Eyini, 229
269; memorial figures in, 253; nighttime
Gelede performance, 11, 12, 271—272Nn.Q; ori- Faleye, 291n.147
gin of, 229, 246; power, 6, 38-40, 44-45, 51, Falola, Sambilisi, 285n.65, 286n.75
61, 85, 103, 136; songs, 12, 19-27, 38-61, 82, farmers, 182, 235. See also agriculture
85, 89, 136, 149, 175, 188, 194, 197, 201, 206, Faseti, Alareode, 228
227, 232, 233, 248, 256, 272n.3; spectacle, 12, fertility: animal, 184; concern of both Agbo and
13, 18-27, 61, 62, 78, 104, 272n.2 Gelede, 237-238; efficacy of prayers for, 38—
Ider, aa, AKO, Iayiby TRG, PI DR, Fg Mei. 39; founding mother spiritual focus of women
278n.17 desiring, 214-215, 217; Gelede concern for,
Egbado, 256, 258, 276n.3; as hunting ground of 242; importance of, 48—49; lack of, 74, 105—
Ketu and Oyo, 179; attribution of Gelede to 106, 121; sight of mother mask forbidden to
Ketu, 225; description of land of, 222; Egun- those in years of, 76; of mothers, 15; power of
gun societies, 204; Gelede traditions of, 7, 8, women, 8; resulting in twins, 134; sacrifice to
43, 44, 49, 54, 58, 60, 64, 71, 80, 85, 95, 101, achieve, 6; sculptural elements that stress, 162
KORY, Valizay WEY, IS, Te aieYe), wykop, alNG, alealyp, Figueiredo, Maria Julia (Omonike), 243
149; 152, 188) 191-193, 214, 215, 217, 221, fish, 112, -trap, 123, 132
232, 233, 258, 259; migration of peoples to, flora, depiction in Gelede headdresses, 209, 212
194, 223, 229, 232, 246, 247; spread of Gelede flute, 26, 45, 46
from, 235, 236, 237, 241, 242, 243 Fon, 62, 91, 116, 237, 240, 242
Egua, 236, 237 Freetown, 241, 242, 246
Egun, 9, 231 French, 224, 228, 236, 237
Egungun, 276n.1, 277n.11; in Ilaro, 234, 248; in frog, 145
Sierra Leone, 241; masqueraders in Gelede Fulani, 182, 183, 217, 225, 232, 278n.20
headdresses, 188, 254; masquerade spectacle, funeral, 11, 40, 49, 56, 59-61, 156, 193, 253, 260
2-6, 39, 62, 79, 80, 94, 134, 152, 154, 170,
175, 191, 197; membership tn, 121; nocturnal Gbondu: head of Gelede society at Lagos, 236
performance, 11; social organization, 204; Gelede: as cultural institution, 221, 224, 225,
spread of, 221 228; as societal force, 12, 13, 15-16, 270; cos-
Egungun of the Hunters (Eegun Olode), 253 tumes, 12, 14, 18, 105, 106, 120-134, 137, 141,
Ejiwa, 240, 286n.77 WAGs, WMG, MS, US, Gh, PAV, PN, Sis, Qe,
eka (drum language), 111-116, 117, 136-140, 229227) 24072422431 ance ml 2 ens widows
141-146, 149 27, 33, 105-151, 152, 206, 209, 214, 229, 231,
Ekine, 237-238 234, 238, 241, 253, 259, 267; distinguisher of
Ekiti kingdom, 221 male and female roles, 14, 15, 19, 29, 37, 39,
Elefe, 85 75, 76, 85, 91, 95, 101, 102, 103, 105, 121—
Elefe Aponle, 253 151, 162, 166, 175, 188-189, 215, 217, 225,
Elegbara, 240 242, 259-260, 270; male and female participa-
Elemo, 194, 196 tion in, 13, 120-121, ae 243, 250, 252, 259-
elephant, 60, 175 260; masquerade, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 17, 18,
Eliseu, Martiliano, 243 27-37, 75-76, 94, one 106, 116, 118, 120,
Emado, 232, 233, 278n.16; Gelede songs in, 43, 125, 132, 134, 136, 137, 138, 140, 146-147,
48, 52, 53 149; 151, 1h2=220;, 221092235226) 227 ooo.
 Index 393
231, 232, 234, 236, 237-271, 242, 243-245, Ifa, 9, 17, 38, 81, 214, 250; divination system,
248, 249, 250, 252, 253, 254, 256, 258, 259, 38, 74, 137, 188, 209; festival, 188
260-270, 275n.g, 276n.3; origin of, 223, 225— Ife,
5, 279n.27
231, 277nn.4,7; relationship between Efe and, Ifonyin, 7
272(ch.2)n.2; sacrificial meaning of, 6, 8, 14; Igan Okoto, 154, 215, 232, 233, 278n.17; songs
SONGS, 12, 14, 214, 221, 226, 227, 232, 294, collected at, 54
240, 253; spectacle of, 1, 2, 7-16, 17, 31, 89, Igbanko Quarter (Pobe), 116
104, 11/1, 120, 219, 225,294, 246, 247) 268, Igbeme-lIle, 81
259; spread of, 232-237, 240, 241-245, Igberekodo Quarter (Igbo-Ora), 236
279nN.23,25 Igbesa, 264
generation, 2, 4, 253 Igbobi Sabe, 236
Gezo, 228 Igbogila, 76, 79, 117, 259; songs collected at,
Ghana, 93 MO ped da welioy7, diaD
goat,
56, 57, 58 Igbomina kingdom, 221
gong,
45, 46, 242 Igbo-Ora, 236, 279n.26
Grand Popo, 242 Tale Ketu, 232
Great Mother: cool deity, 15, 18, 26, 79, 81; Ijanna, 233, 235, 278nn.17, 21
Gelede performance, 22-25, 37; masks, 65, Ijaye, 224
71, 75-82, 240-241, 262-263, 269, 272Nn.5; ljebu, 9, 221, 224, 237, 238, 245, 278n.17
power of, 7, 71, 79 Vesa, 17, 137, 279N.27
Gun, 224 Tjio, 79, 236, 274n.11
guns, 13, 27, 95, 101, 179, 189, 199, 253 Yo, 237
ljora, 240
hairstyles, 81, 162, 166, 170, 177, 182, 189, 220, Tjoun, 232, 278n.12
259, 260, 267
Tju, 184, 217
Hastings, 241
Iju Ejide, 217
Hausa, 57, 94, 166, 176, 191, 199, 221, 225
Iju River, 217
Hausaland, 224
yuba (invocations or homage), 4, 6, 7, 38, 39, 40,
head ties: essential element of Efe costume, 17— 41, 46-52, 175, 273nNn.5, 10
18; in Tetede headdresses, 82, 85; lent by fe-
Ika, 22
males for costume, 13, 120, 121; part of
Iko: founder of Idofa, 277; town, 232
Gelede costumes, 120, 121, 123, 124, 132,
Ilado, 235
146, 162, 166, 182, 197, 206, 220; theme of Ilara, 277n.4
headdress, 259 Ilaro, 229, 236; early history of, 217, 232, 233-
horse, 57, 60, 94, 138, 156 234, 235, 247, 248, 278n.17; founding of, 217,
humor: derision, 214; jokes associated with Efe 279n.25; Gelede in, 13, 85, 103, 117, 123, 125,
night, 27, 38; response to Muslims, 191, 199; 137, 149, 159, 176, 217, 248, 252, 253, 258,
ridicule as theme of Gelede masks, 162, 197— 263, 268; marketplace in, 149; songs collected
199, 219; ridicule in song, 38, 39, 45, 46, 52; in, 4, 24
sarcasm, 53; Satiric comments on opponents, Ile-Ife, 57, 222
57, 62, 162 Ile Iya Naso, 243
hunters: images of, in Gelede, 95, 101, 116, 179, Ilobi: people, 233, 234; town, 225, 226, 227,
253, 274n.2; legends about, 179; role in 228, 229
Gelede performance, 27, 29, 89, 94, 235, 253; logun, 54
tales of, 10; weapons of, 179 Ilu Ata Quarter (Ilaro), 217, 233, 234, 248, 252,
hunting: accidents, 49; deities of, 184, 253; mask
253
motif, 162; themes of, 74 Imala: quarter of Aiyetoro, 236; people, 236,
hyena, 27, 103 273n.14; town, 57, 194, 196, 235, 237;
Ibadan, 224 288n.97
Ibaiyun, 75; songs collected at, 24-25, 71, 77 Imasai, 51, 217, 256, 27'7n.4
Ibara Quarter (Abeokuta), 156, 209, 215, 233, incantation, 4, 5-6, 7, 27, 40-46
236 infanticide, 231
Ibarapa, 7, 236, 237, 288n.97 invocation. See yuba
Ibese, 217, 232, 234 Iposuki, 235
Idahin, 120, 182, 228, 267, 273n.6 Isaga, 217, 232, 234
Idejo, 240 Isagba, 136
Idere, 236 Isale, 227
Idofa, 194, 259, 2770.4 Isale-Eko, 75, 79, 98, 117, 2770.4
Idofoi, 237; quarter (Aiyetoro), 51, 236, 47, 50, Isale-Logun Quarter (Lanlate), 236
52, 56, 57, 58, 61, 176, 188; people, 194, 235, Isele, 81
2730214 Isere, 235, 240
 304 Index

lseri, 193, 279N.2 marketplace, 197, 215, 223; controlled by

Islamic associé ons in Gelede masks, 176; im- women, 10-11; metaphor for world, 2, 10-11;
pact on Yoruba culture, 191, 223, 225; in- otherworldly dimension of, 10; scene of
fluence in Efe masquerades, 62, 85, 89, 90, 91, Gelede masquerades, 20, 22, 27, 29, 103, 118,
93, 94. See also Muslims 134-136, 149, 217, 234, 253, 254; size and
Itaoba Quarter (Ketu), 259 control of, 149
Itolu, 217, 229, 233, 234, 236 marketwomen, 10, 1 iy Dsyil, Re, Pills) APD. PP:
iworo, (rhythmic drum sequence), 116, 117 234, 259, 269, 270
Iwoye, 76, 79, 277n.4; songs collected in, 80 Masafe Quarter (Ketu), 94, 194
Iyalaja (Mother of the Sacred Rattle), 217, 252, medicines, 274n.9; applied after carving of
260 mask, 76; costuming acts as, 134; gathered in
walase, 15, 39, 90, 196, 272(ch.3)n.2 forests, 182; incantations during preparation
Iyalode, 10 or application of, 6; inserted in tuft, 248; Mus-
Iyanla, 25, 65, 75, 76, 78, 80, 132, 260, 263 lims’ ability to prepare, 191; of animals, 179;
Iya Odua, 217, 248, 252 of hunters, 179; Oro Efe theme, 101; protect-
Iya Olomo (Mother of Many Children), 215 ing Oro Efe, 15, 26, 98, 136, 272(ch.3)n.2; to
calm anger, 49
Jiga, 233
Joga, 215, 217, 232, 233, 234, 278n.20, 279n.26
Mefu royal line, 226
Meko, 39, 120, 156, 182, 191, 194, 236, 259
Joga-Orile, 217 memorial figures, 229, 250-252, 253
menstruation: controlled by mothers, 49; power
Kesan, 236 of elderly women past, 75, 79, 81; uniting
Kesan-Orile, 103, 232 women, 15
Ketu: city, 57, 58; costumes, 85, 91, 95, 101, 120, Modeolu Quarter (Ilaro), 234, 248
121, 123, 125, 132; dance, 106, 138, 140, 145, Molokun, 238
147, 149; Gelede societies, 117; history, 222, mongoose, 90
243, 276n.2; kingdom, 46, 491, 223, 228, 245, monkey, 194, 197, 209
247, 248; masks, 71, 90, 159, 162, 176, 179, moon: crescent on Oro Efe masks, 89, 90, 91,
182) LOA, OAs 2377.82 411,8 250) 250" 270m: 94, 206; subject of eka, 113-114
masquerades, 64, 85, 95, 103, 147; Muslims Mosafejo, 235
in, 94; 223; and origins and spread of Gelede, moth, 114, 206
Fy BAL PEO) DAY PPXG), ARI, API, PPC, WS, ART. mothers, 1, 6, 105, 137, 196; abodes of, 272n.6;
242, 246, 277nn.4,11; Oro Efe in, 39, 50, 54, balance and coolness associated with, 15, 16,
82, 85, 91, 95, 120, 121, 136; religion, 75, 262; 215, 219; day masqueraders, 214-220; hu-
songs collected in, 19, 55, 61 manity necessary for addressing, 175; linked
Kogbodoku, 264 with birds, go, 95, 101, 103, 203, 209, 212;
Koran, 94 Oko associated with, 184; Oro Efe invocations
Kugbenu, 197 to, 27, 38, 39, 41, 44, 49, 61; power of, 8-16,
Kumasi, 93 17, 18, 38-39, 41-42, 44, 49-50, 65, 74, 85,
Kumi swamp, 222, 223 2 te L345 lh2 O72 Ole VO ead Onmor olen
276n.1. See also Great Mother
Labode, Laleye, 2g0n.133 motorcycles, 199, 222, 253
Labode, Michael, 290n.133 Mowo, 235
Lagos, 203, 279n.26; colonization of, 279n.25; Muslims, 277n.5; influence on Asante, 93; in-
Ejiwa in, 240; Gelede in, 17, 64, 75, 79, 98, fluence on Yoruba, 93-94, 194, 199, 234-235;
LON, 1063) 117, 132.147 4G Olga ods represented in Gelede masquerades, 13, 89,
199, 235, 236, 237, 238, 243, 265,
269, 277n.4 166, 176, 183, 189-191, 194, 196, 199, 221,
Lanlate, 236 234, 254, 256; spectators at Efe performance,
leopard, 47, 48, 89, 91, 101 18, 61; writing board, 176. See also Islam
Liabo, 233, 278n.15
Likimon, 182 name, 5-6, 271n.4
lineage (zdile): eternal, 2, 4, 60; gods, 7, 248-256; Nana Buku, 166
participation in masquerade societies, 60, 79— Naso, lya, 243
80, 106, 121, 188, 248-256, 258; ritual obliga- New Oyo, 232, 27g9n.26
tions of, 204 Nigeria, 55, 194, 199, 224, 236, 237, 242
lion, 46, 89, 179 Nupe, 94, 191
Nuru, 264
Magbo/Ekine masquerade, 221, 237
Mama Sofi, 275n.g Obalaju, 215, 217, 278n.20
Mandinka, 242 Obatala, 273n.6
marketing network, 222 Obatosi, Marcelina da Silva, 243
 Index
395
Odu, 274n.9 Orisanla, 9
Odua, 26, 76, 209, 217, 234, 248, 249, 250, 252 Oro, 9, 241
Odudua, 232 Oro Efe: conscience of community, 14, 52-57,
Oduduwa, 222 103, 104; forerunners of, 25-26, 82, 85; per-
Odunlami, Olabimtan, 264, 282n.1, 289n.120 formance in masquerade, 15, 26-27, 39-61,
Odunlawi, 289n.120 85-103, 120, 121, 136, 152, 175, 188, 1091,
Oduntan, Fayomi, 270, 281nn.8,10,11 206, 240, 253, 274n.12; power of, 38, 85, 89,
Odusina, Otooro, 159 go, 101, 103; servant of mothers, 49
Ofia, 228, 229 Oronna, 233, 234, 235, 278n.22, 279n.25
Ogbagba, 20, 64 orun (afterworld, otherworld): apadi, 60; as per-
Ogboni society, 252 manent residence, 2, 10, 61; Efe night attend-
Ogede (Gorilla), 209, 236 ants from, 18; mothers’ access to, 10, 82,
Ogun, 179, 188, 241, 272nn.6,8,9, 273n.6, 276n.1; real and permanent, 1, 2, 4; stress on,
274n.12, 274n.2, 276n.1; aggressive character by Egungun, 170; transfer of spirits to, 11;
of, 41, 42, 102; god associated with Gelede, Yoruba spectacle part of, 2, 5, 6, 7, 10, 136,
20, 22, 41, 42, 49, 64, 89, 91, 94-95, 101, 102, 151, 246. See also spirits
132, 189, 248, 252, 253, 262 Orunmila, 17, 18, 74, LOO mes OOWmEa 72
Ogun River, 222 (ch.3)n.1
Ogundare, 291n.163 Osata of Ilu Ata, 233
Ogunseye, 268 Osogbo, 9
Ohori, 7, 75, 91, 95, 101, 162,221, 220, 241), Ososomu, 78, 79
256, 260, 264 Osugbo, 243
Ohumbe, 274n.11 Osumare, 183
Oje, 277n.11 Osun, 184, 243, 245
Ojelado, 243 Ota, 194, 243, 260, 263, 264
Ojuola, 217 otherworld. See orun
Okanbi, 222 Otun lIyalaya, 217-219
Oke-Otun Quarter (Lanlate), 236 Owiwi War, 278n.17
Oketagbo Quarter (Lanlate), 236 Oya, 4,8
Oki, 194 Oyan River, 194
Oko, 184 Oye, 232
Olaleye, Idowu, 264, 288n.96 Oyo: city, 57, 176, 215-217, 272(ch.2)n.4; Em-
Olamide, 264 pire, 221, 222-225, 229, 231-233, 234, 236,
Olaniyan, Kilani, 194, 260, 263, 264, 285n.63, 237, 241, 245-246, 278n.21; people, 179, 189,
289n.123,124 222, 247, 248
Old Oyo, 276n.2 Oyo-lle, 194
Oleyo Ejide, 215, 217
Olodumare, 9, 74 Pa Ina Njako (Fire Starts without Warning), 64
Olofin of Iseri, 193, 235, 240 Pako Quarter (Igbo-Ora), 236
Olokun, 149, 237, 238, 242, 277n.10 Panku, 54, 55
Olomitutu, 184 patrons (of artists), 258-260, 265-267, 269-270
Olori Agberu (Head of Costumers), 253 pig, 206, 209
Olori Olode (Head of Hunters), 253 pipes, 62, 64
Olorun, 226 Pobes 755178301, 100.1110, 11775, 118119650146,
Olosa, 184 237; songs collected at, 113
Oloyede, Sunday, 286n.79 Popo, 223, 242
Olu of Ilaro, 233, 235 porcupine, 112, 113, 206
Oluaiye: mask, 263; praise name, 277n.10 Porto Novo, 223, 232, 277nNn.3,4
Oluaso, 217 possession trance, 2, 114, 170, 253, 275n.7
Oluguna, Oga, 228 praise names, 277n.3; as encapsulation of per-
Olurin Quarter (Igbo-Ora), 236 son’s being, 271n.3; as part of Yoruba oral
Omigbaro, 103, 282n.6 literature, 175; for Gelede, 248; for Great
Onaneye, Idowu, 264, 288n.96 Mother, 79; for mothers, 41, 51, 71, 73, 75,
Ondo, 237 248; for Ogun, 41; of Olokun, 149; for Sango,
Onidofoi, 194, 196, 235, 236 260
Onile, 243, 245 prostitutes, 197, 201
Onisare of anna, 233, 235 puppetry, 19-20, 162
Onola Isale Gangan, 235 purification, 248
Onola Quarter (Ilaro), 234, 248
ort inun, 15, 73, 81, 166, 219, 248 rats, 11, 74
ort ode, 15, 73, 166, 219 Tattlesmank lems 20M mails 29822 O-Mleonmlzals,
Orisa Oko, 273 20,835,095) 99, LOL, 1392) 149, 220, 2277) .220,
 306 Index

238, 242, 274n.15; sacred double, 147, 215, Taiwo, D.C., 193, 235
217, 219, 252, 260 Temne, 242
red, 262; associated with hunters, 94, 95; as- Tetede, 25, 82, 85
sociated with mothers, 73, 81, 89, 215, 219; Togo, 223
associated with warriors and Ogun, 101, 102; tortoise, 91, 194, 209
in Gelede costume, 123; in masks depicting trade: Muslim, 94, 191; Oyo Empire, 223-225,
Egungun masquerades, 26g; in masks depict- 232-237 passim, 241, 246
ing orisa oko worshippers, 269; in Oro Efe cos- transformation: of mothers, 8, 10, 71, 73, 74>
tume, 89, 91, 95, 101 81-82, 91, 209, 212; of spirits, 179
reptiles, 11, 91, 95, 179 tuft of hair (osu), 65, 78, 79, 103, 176, 209, 248-
Ricinodendron Africanum, or oilnut tree, 260 249
royalty, as motif in Gelede, Go, 101, 175, 204 twins: concept of, 136; figure, 125, 248, 250-253;
in Gelede, 34, 140, 141, 145, 151, 159, 238;
Sabe, 7, 194, 221, 258 linked with origin of Gelede, 226, 229, 231;
sacred forest, 75, 76 preceding Oro Efe, 11, 82; Yoruba birthrate
sacrifice: blood, 6; deities invoked in, 64; depic- of, 134, 250-253
tion of human, 5, 189; for fertility, 217; for
life of twins, 250; funeral, 56; in Egungun fes-
tivals, 4; invocations in, 38; means of improv-
war, 49, 54, 74, 89, 91, 151, 189, 233
warriors, 62, 94, 95, 101, 188, 189
ing one’s lot, 204; performance as, 6, 14, 111, Waterloo, 241, 242
117; pigeon used in, 116; sap of trees as, 262; Weme River, 222
to lineage gods, 7; to mothers, 8, 14, 15; to whisks, horsetail, 26, 27, 60, 85, go, 98, 101, 116,
ward off bad fortune, 209 125, 132, 138, 146, ,204, 220, 238
Sango, 4, 8, 9, 49, 53, 114, 166, 204, 221, 241, white, 176, 215, 241, 250, 267; associated with
248, 252, 260 Great Mother, 225 25, 26, 71, 73,75; 70179;
Salvador (Brazil), 243 81, 217, 21g, 269; associated with Oro Efe, 89,
Sawonjo, 76, 117, 125, 166, 270 98, 101, 102; in Gelede costumes, 22, 25, 26,
seriality, 7, 12, 31, 118, 175, 271n.5 64, 79, 217; in Tetede mask, 82
sewing machine, 199, 222 Whydah, 94, 223, 225
sex: impotence in, 74, 105-106, 121; mentioned witchcraft, 94
in Oro Efe songs, 40, 41-42, 44, 46, 47, 52, witches, 8, 73, 74, 82
53-54, 197, 201; roles, 53-54; scandals involv-
ing, 52, 53-54,
197, 201
sexual imagery (in relation to male deities), 41, Yemoja, 184, 215, 217, 242, 245
42, 273n.8, 276n.1 Yewa River, 217, 222, 248
shells, 51, 147, 149, 226, 227, 276-277n.3. See Yoruba: aesthetic concepts, 175; aphorisms,
also cowrie shells 112; art, 209, 259; beliefin eternity of lineage,
Sierra Leone, 221, 241, 242, 243, 246 60; cosmos, 214; court lineage, 57-58; crowns,
slave trade, 223-224, 225, 237, 241, 242, 246 go; dance, 105, 138; garments, 93-94; Gelede
snake, 53, 54; “cool,” 275n.8; dangerous, 115; found among, 7, 243; gods, 61, 64, 74, 89,
mask motif, 65, 82, 89, go, 91, 159, 183, 193, 166; herbalists, 8; impact of West on, 199,
194-196, 206, 20g. 217; mothers change to, 201, 203, 224; infanticide, 231; incantations,
74 5, 73; nvocations, 7; language, 44, 111, 179,
social comment, 39—40, 52-57, 103, 104 240; life reflected in masks, 152, 162, 219; life
spectacle (iron): definition of, 1-7, 78, 120, 151; reflected in fashion, 166; mask tradition, 152;
Gelede as, 7-16, 31, 61, 89, 104, 111, 219, monarch, 101; mythology, 222; occupations,
234, 247, 258 182; oral literature, 175; philosophy, 6, 175;
spirits, 217; abodes of, 17g, 261, 262; Agan, 2, 4, praise poems, 7, 112, 179; prayer, 15; poetry,
5; assume human or animal forms, 179; at- 112-114; proverbs and sayings, 71, 89, 113,
tendants at Efe night, 18; children, 212; com- 114, 138, 175, 206; religion, 11, 166, 183, 204,
munication with g, 42; evocation of, 4, 5, 6, 247-256, 271n.3; respect for women, 8, 9, 74,
go; in Egungun masquerades, 39, 121, 254; 80, 81, 103, 183, 221, 246, 276n.1; response to
links between men and other deities, 65-73, Islam, 191; sculpture, 7, 71, 261, 262, 263,
81-82; market place of intermingling of hu- 264; sex roles among Yoruba, 182, 183, 188,
mans with, 10, 136; of twins, 252; water, 237, 189, 196; social organization of, 6, 204; spec-
238 tacle, 1-16, 37, 78, 111, 120; tattoos, 7; tex-
squirrels, 116 tiles, 7, 112. See also specific Yoruba peoples
Sule, 196 Yorubaland, 1, 44, 62, 93, 151, 176, 179, 189,
Susu, 242 221, 222-225, 220, 233, 237, 245, 258
-
African Studies
Art/ Anthropology

Gelede
Art and Female Power among the Yoruba
By Henry John Drewal and Margaret Thompson Drewal

Gelede masquerades, practiced by the Yoruba in homage to the ex-

traordinary power of female forces in the cosmos, are lavish artistic per-
formances involving carved wooden headdresses, cloth costumes,
dances, songs, and drumming. The authors of this richly conceived
study analyze song texts, music, and dance as well as oral traditions and
personal histories to interpret Gelede as a symbolic representation of the
Yoruba world view. Abundantly illustrated with black-and-white and
color illustrations, mostly field photographs, Gelede offers an integrated
perspective on the social and cultural functions of art.

‘... an exceptionally rich source for all those interested in symbolic,

religious or social studies.” —Tribus

‘... an excellent book . . . fascinating to read.”

—Research in African Literatures

“,..a volume that establishes the standards by which future works on

the masked festivals of the Yoruba and other Sub-Saharan African
peoples will be judged.” —African Arts

“. . . the most sophisticated art historical analysis of a single African

aesthetic tradition.” —Trnibal Arts Review

HENRY JOHN DREWAL is Bascom Professor ofArt History at the Univer-

sity of Wisconsin—Madison. He is coauthor of Yoruba: Nine Centuries ofAfrican
Art and Thought and Introspectives: Contemporary Art by Americans and Brazil-
tans of African Descent.

MARGARET THOMPSON DREWAL, Assistant Professor of Perfor-

mance Studies at Northwestern University, is author of Yoruba: Art and
Life and Thought and guest editor of a special issue of The Drama Review:
Performance Studies on ritual performance in Africa.

Traditional Arts of Africa

Also available in a clothbound edition ISBN 0-253-32569-2

INDIANA UNIVERSITY PRESS

Bloomington andIndianapolis

RINT,
Cover: Great Mother mask. White Collection, Ne
Usk
Seattle Art Museum.
Photograph by Paul M. Macapia.
ISBN 0-253-205b5- 4