Imperial Oyo, Sacred Ife: Restoring balance between Alaafin and Ooni

Among the Yoruba, history is never just a set of old tales, it is a compass, a guide, and a foundation of identity. Yet, over time, political distortions and throne rivalries have created confusion around the roles of the Ooni of Ife and the Alaafin of Oyo. At the center of this confusion is a persistent but historically flawed narrative that the Ooni is the “father” or “grandfather” of the Alaafin.

As captured by Ismaila Ashipa, the title “Alaafin” itself means owner of the palace (Aafin). The origin of this title, he argued, predates the current palace in Oyo and can be traced to Ile-Ife, where Oranmiyan was the first king of the Oduduwa palace. From this perspective, it is clear that Alaafin’s roots are tied directly to Oduduwa’s bloodline, not to the throne of the Ooni.

History records that Oduduwa had one son, Okanbi, who in turn begat seven sons: Olowu, Onisabe, Onipopo, Owa, Orangun, Onipetu, and Oranmiyan, the progenitor of the Alaafin dynasty. Notably absent from this genealogy is the Ooni of Ife. As Ashipa emphasized, there was never any mention of “Oonirisa” among Oduduwa’s direct descendants.

Oranmiyan, a fiery warrior, once ruled in Ile-Ife but left in search of new territories despite warnings from the then custodian of Ife, Oonirisa. Though he conquered many lands, he suffered defeat against the Ibarubas and, out of pride, refused to return to Ife. Instead, he founded Oyo, where the Alaafin dynasty flourished. This act symbolized Oyo’s emergence as a political and military force independent of Ife’s spiritual authority.

From Ashipa’s perspective, Oonirisa was more of a regent who held sway in the absence of Oranmiyan, but never a direct descendant of Oduduwa. Therefore, to call the Ooni the Alaafin’s father is historically misplaced.

Building on this, Jide Adesina, in his widely respected essay, warned that Yoruba history must not be reduced to myths twisted for political advantage. “History,” he wrote, “is not simply a collection of myths told around firesides; it is the living memory of a people, their compass, and their inheritance.”

Adesina argued that the Ooni’s throne derives from ritual primacy, not genealogy. Oduduwa conquered Ife, imposed his structures, and left behind a sacred headquarters, but this did not make the Ooni his biological heir. The Alaafin, on the other hand, descends directly through Oranmiyan, one of Okanbi’s seven sons.

This clarification underscores that ritual primacy is not the same as genealogical superiority. While the Ooni presides over Oduduwa’s shrines as custodian of sacred traditions, this role does not make him Alaafin’s progenitor. Confusing metaphorical “fatherhood” with biological lineage, Adesina insisted, is a distortion of Yoruba memory.

Indeed, Yoruba kinship language often refers to priests, elders, and custodians as “father” or “mother.” But this is metaphorical, not biological. The Ooni is “Baba” in a ritual sense, not in the genealogical hierarchy of Oduduwa’s descendants.

Archaeological evidence strengthens this argument. Ife has yielded extraordinary bronze and terracotta masterpieces, highlighting its status as a religious and artistic center. Yet, scholars like Frank Willett and Jacob Olupona affirm that Ife was never an imperial power. Its primacy was spiritual, not political.

Oyo, by contrast, emerged as a mighty empire. Under Alaafin’s rule, its cavalry armies dominated West Africa, with figures like Alaafin Abiodun and Alaafin Atiba shaping regional geopolitics. To suggest that such imperial rulers were “grandchildren” of the Ooni would be, as Adesina concluded, “historically absurd.”

Ifa, the Yoruba divination system, also supports this separation. As Professor Wande Abimbola and other scholars show, Ifa recognizes Oduduwa as the progenitor but never places the Ooni above Oranmiyan’s lineage. Instead, it stresses interdependence: Ife as sacred origin, Oyo as political head, Ibadan as military command.

The misrepresentation of the Ooni as Alaafin’s father grew stronger during colonial and postcolonial times. European administrators, unfamiliar with Yoruba political theology, often elevated one throne over another. Later, Nigerian politicians fueled the rivalry for their own advantage.

This view is echoed by Professor Aderemi Raji-Oyelade, Mogaji Olubadan of Ibadan, who recalled that colonial records once ranked the Alaafin as head of Yoruba kings, with the Ooni placed behind in status. Later, politics shifted favor towards Ooni Adesoji Aderemi, an ally of Chief Obafemi Awolowo, who gained prominence in the Action Group era.

The pendulum of recognition, Prof Raji-Oyelade noted, kept swinging between Ife and Oyo. Independence-era politics elevated one monarch while suppressing the other. Yet, this manipulation deepened unnecessary supremacy battles that still linger today.

Court rulings have further clarified Alaafin’s political primacy. Notably, only the Alaafin has the right to confer ceremonial titles with the suffix “…of Yorubaland.” When Ooni attempted to grant such a title to politician Tom Ikimi, Alaafin Adeyemi III challenged the act in court and won. This affirmed Oyo’s constitutional recognition as political head.

Still, both thrones have made invaluable contributions to Yoruba heritage. Ooni Olubuse sought cultural recognition across the Atlantic, building ties with Brazil and Cuba. Alaafin Adeyemi III, in turn, became the patron of Oyotunji African Village in South Carolina, a beacon of Yoruba identity in the diaspora.

These examples show that both Ife and Oyo, rather than competing, have historically complemented each other, one safeguarding spiritual origins, the other projecting political and military might.

The issue, therefore, is not about superiority but about balance. As Adesina aptly put it, “The strength of the Yoruba world has always been its plurality, many towns, many thrones, one heritage.”

Raji-Oyelade added a similar call for peace, arguing that Yoruba must embrace the dialectic of power: Ife as source, Oyo as head, Ibadan as military arm. “Only if contemporary historians emphasise the beauty of this dialectic of power, we will know peace,” he said.

What Yoruba unity requires today is not throne rivalry but mutual respect. Supremacy battles only weaken the House of Oduduwa, while external forces exploit the divisions.

The narrative that Ooni is Alaafin’s father must, therefore, be laid to rest. It contradicts genealogy, distorts memory, and undermines unity. Oduduwa is the father; Okanbi is the progenitor of dynasties; Oranmiyan founded Oyo; and the Alaafin descends directly from this line.

The Ooni, revered as custodian of shrines and spiritual guide, commands respect on sacred grounds, but this role must not be twisted into political overlordship. The Alaafin, as political head, leads in governance and empire-building. Both roles are dignified but distinct.

As Yoruba history has shown, strength lies not in rivalry but in complementary power. Supremacy wars end in destruction; cooperation builds unity. The Alaafin and Ooni must, therefore, respect their unique strengths and stop supremacy fights for the sake of Yoruba heritage.

For if history is truly a compass, then the direction is clear: the future of Yoruba unity depends on truth, balance, and mutual respect. The Ooni is not Alaafin’s father, but both are sons of the same proud civilization, guardians of a shared destiny.