In a bold defiance of their Christian and Muslim upbringings, a wave of young Nigerians are turning to Isese spirituality—yet their journey is anything but smooth. VICTOR AYENI delves into the gripping stories of these traditional worshippers, exposing their battles against relentless vilification, harassment, and deep-rooted societal prejudice
Few posts on X (formerly Twitter) have ignited as much buzz as a video clip shared by user Dewdrop on the morning of May 14, 2024.
The footage, which has garnered over a million views, captures a young man dressed in shorts beneath a white loincloth emerging from the sea.
Moments earlier, he had dived deep into the waters to offer a sacrifice to appease Olokun — an androgynous Orisa (deity) of the deep sea, venerated among the Yoruba, Edo, and other regions of southern Nigeria.
As he hurried along the shores of Sultan Beach in Badagry, Lagos, a large group of worshippers swarmed around him, their excitement at a fever pitch.
Some beat drums and shook gongs, while others carried calabashes filled with white offerings. The Olokun festival, celebrated annually in Badagry, has been described as a vibrant convergence of economic and cultural significance.
The crowd, identifying as Isese (Yoruba spirituality) practitioners, were dressed predominantly in striking blue and white attire.
Some women had their hair adorned with cowrie shells as they joyfully followed the man to where the chief priests, all dressed in white, awaited him. Together, they celebrated his dramatic return from the depths of the sea.
When Saturday TheNigerian inquired what would happen if the man had drowned during the rite, an Isese adherent explained it would be considered “a bad omen.”
In such a scenario, further sacrifices would be performed to determine why he had failed to return to the shore, signifying that the Orisa was displeased and had rejected the offering for a specific reason.
However, when the two-minute, 11-second video of the religious ceremony was shared on X, it triggered a cacophony of outrage among users.
The majority of the 302 replies were filled with strong denunciations of Yoruba spirituality, primarily from Christian and Muslim netizens.
According to a 2024 report by the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom, approximately 46 per cent of Nigerians are Christian, and roughly 46 per cent are Muslim.
However, only eight per cent of the country’s population of over 230 million people practise African indigenous spirituality.
Responding to the negative comments on the video he shared, Dewdrop expressed his disappointment, decrying how adherents of the two dominant religions often resist criticism of their own faiths yet are “quick to insult and condemn others.”
“Traditionalists have endured such attacks the most, but we young traditionalists of this generation won’t keep quiet like our parents,” he added.
‘I was a Jehovah’s Witness’
Speaking with Saturday TheNigerian, Dewdrop, whose real name is Olabode Ogunjobi, revealed that he was born and raised as a Jehovah’s Witness — a Christian-based religious movement his parents had embraced as young adults.
Coming from a traditional background, his father first converted to an Anglican before he began to study the Bible with Jehovah’s Witnesses, eventually becoming a presiding overseer.
Like many Nigerians of the previous generation, the Yoruba spirituality Ogunjobi’s father stridently distanced himself from involves the worship of the Supreme Being, Olodumare, and the veneration of divinities known as Orisas, which are both male and female.
The exact number of Orisas is uncertain but is often said to be about 401. These Orisas are believed to be ministers sent by Olodumare to guide humanity, aiding their success on earth and imparting spiritual wisdom.
“Even though we have other Orisa in the family, Ogun (patron of iron and war) was the main Orisa of our lineage, and you can tell from my last name, Ogunjobi.
“Ogunjobi here is my grandfather, but my great-grandfather was Ogundeji, a hero from Ikirun. I was born into Jehovah’s Witnesses and was very active.
“Being a smart kid, I started taking assignments — when you’re asked to prepare a five-minute Bible reading and lecture on what you read in front of the congregation,” the Abeokuta-born psychologist told Saturday TheNigerian.
Unfortunately, Ogunjobi’s years of passionate devotion as a Witness waned after he travelled to Rome, Italy.
Facing racism in Italy
After attending an English congregation for a while, Ogunjobi travelled to another country for a few years. Upon his return to Rome, he discovered that the English congregation in his city had been relocated to Pomezia, two train stops away.
“Unfortunately, it wasn’t convenient for me,” he explained. “Trains aren’t regular on Sundays, and since I speak Italian fluently already, I decided to join the Italian congregation.
“At the Italian congregation, only a few were kind enough to shake my hand, while the rest would either ignore my outstretched hand or turn their back and walk away to avoid me completely.
“You could raise your hand to comment during the question-and-answer session and not get called on the entire time. That session usually lasts for about an hour, while the whole service takes two hours, though it has been shortened slightly since. The racism and outright discrimination pushed me to start researching religion, and I discovered how much we had been deceived by the oyinbos (Caucasians) in Africa.”
After uncovering shocking allegations about the religious movement he once followed and its founder, Ogunjobi decided to change his faith.
“I hate being deceived. I went fully into Yoruba traditional spirituality (Isese), and gradually, most of my problems began to be resolved.
“I noticed a huge difference within a few years, especially after I underwent Ifá initiation and received my own Ifá. I’ve been a proud traditionalist ever since and boldly identify as one, wearing my Ifá beads everywhere,” he added.
On the official website of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, JW.org, the religious group states its belief “that all races are equal in the sight of God. Through Bible education, we try to help people overcome even deep-seated prejudices.”
Citing a biblical text for support, it adds, “Additionally, we do not support any movement motivated by racial or ethnic hatred.”
Resurgence of Yoruba spirituality
Underlying Yoruba traditional spirituality is Ifá, an extensive corpus of texts and mathematical formulas practised among Yoruba communities and the African diaspora in the Americas and the Caribbean.
According to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation, “the word Ifá refers to the mystical figure Ifá or Orunmila, regarded by the Yoruba as the deity of wisdom and intellectual development.”
Colonial rule left behind a legacy of both literal and symbolic violence against indigenous beliefs and practices, subjecting them to severe restrictions.
In a country where Christianity and Islam dominate, Yoruba spirituality is often cast as ‘demonic,’ with indigenous practices confined to a devout minority lacking significant political and social influence.
However, findings by Saturday TheNigerian have shown that in recent years, Yoruba spirituality has experienced a remarkable resurgence, especially among the younger generation.
More Isese practitioners, groups, ceremonies, and festivals have gained increased visibility across social media platforms such as X, TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook.
Traditional festivals like Osun Osogbo, Ogun Onire, Olokun, Egungun, Eyo, Olojo, Orisa Ipoja, Odun Ereketa, and Igogo have not only attracted wider recognition among youths but have also drawn local and international partnerships.
This resurgence has been enriched by a tapestry interwoven with Afro-Caribbean and diasporic spiritual traditions, including Santería, Umbanda, Candomblé, and Palo Mayombe.
On December 24, Yoruba traditionalists across the country marked the World Esu Festival with the theme, “Esu is not Satan.”
The festival featured indigenous practices, public awareness campaigns, and processions across five states and the diaspora, with prominent traditionalists using social media platforms to educate the public about Esu, a primordial Yoruba deity.
Traditionalists argue that the confusion between Esu and Satan originated from Samuel Ajayi Crowther’s Yoruba translation of the English Bible, where he rendered Satan—a fallen angel and adversary of Yahweh—as Esu.
“For too long,” a traditionalist, Ifayemisi, wrote on X, “Esu has been misunderstood and misrepresented, so today, we celebrate and educate the public about who Esu is.
“Esu is a compassionate and sympathetic Orisa who grieves with those who grieve and ensures balance by taking from the undeserving and giving to the deserving.”
Explaining further, she added, “Esu Laalu is not Satan. As Onile Orita, the guardian of crossroads, Esu connects humanity with the divine, delivering our sacrifices (ebo) and prayers (ìwúre) to Olodumare and the other Orisa.
“Esu as ‘Satan’ stems from cultural misunderstanding and colonial influence, which we must actively correct.”
Citing his recent study across Yorubaland, a Professor of History and Director of Research and Innovation Management at the Osun State University, Osogbo, Olukoya Ogen, highlighted the resurgence of African traditional religious practices.
In the six-month study, he observed that “these religious practices remain resilient and have been attracting re-converts from Islam and Christianity.”
He further stated, “The study also confirms the influx of Yoruba traditional religious worshippers to Europe and the United States, alongside a thriving foreign market for Yoruba alternative medicine.
“Thus, based on empirical evidence, the study submits that both locally and globally, the Yoruba belief system and spirituality are experiencing a resurgence.”
Increasing attacks
Despite this revival, recent years have witnessed rising tensions between Muslims and Isese practitioners in southwestern Nigeria.
Some of these confrontations have escalated into threats, physical assaults, and even arrests targeting Yoruba traditionalists.
On August 29, 2024, a Lagos-based traditionalist, Obaelaifa, took to Facebook alleging that a woman who had converted to Isese fled her home in Abuja due to persecution by her Muslim family.
He claimed to have faced repeated confrontations from the woman’s relatives for providing her accommodation in Lagos, explaining that she required spiritual assistance.
Earlier, on July 1, 2023, a Muslim group in Ilorin, Kwara State, stormed the residence of an Isese advocate, Yeye Ajesikemi Olatunji, threatening to ban all Isese festivals across the five local governments in the state.
Olatunji, a former Christian prophetess who embraced Isese, had shared a flyer on her Facebook page promoting the annual Aje Olokun Festival. However, she was compelled to cancel the event to prevent a potential crisis.
In another incident from August 2023, a prominent Ilorin-based Isese devotee and activist, Adegbola Abdulazeez, popularly known as Talolorun, was arrested and remanded for defamation.
That same month, a video surfaced online showing 15 Muslim clerics confronting a female Isese devotee in Ilorin, entering her shop and threatening to force her out of the premises within eight days.
Some of these critics have alleged that Isese practitioners perform human sacrifices and utilise spiritual powers to afflict people.
“There will always be people who use power for negative uses,” a Muslim who gave his name as Idris said. “These people can curse others, drive them mad, bring people misfortune, and perform money rituals.”
But Orisa priestess, Iyalorisa Omitonade Ifawemimo contends that the idea of human sacrifices in Isese is a product of Nollywood plots which she said have misled their audience.
“Human sacrifice for money ritual does not exist in Ìsèse,” she wrote on her X account. “It is not real. It is madness. It is a scam. Of course, offerings to Ajé (Òrìsà of wealth) and confirmed potions like awure, eyonu can be made for you so that you can be connected to your positive energies in your business (buying and selling, manufacturing etc).
“It is that business that will bring in crowds of customers. As an Onisese, we believe in this. If you do not work, you cannot be wealthy.”
A turning point
Amidst the hostility, a landmark development emerged. After years of advocacy, the state governments of Lagos, Oyo, Osun, and Ogun officially declared August 20, 2024, as Isese Day — a public holiday dedicated to Yoruba traditionalists.
The celebration honoured Yoruba traditions with vibrant cultural displays, including parties, festivals, parades, lectures, and traditional attire, aimed at attracting tourists from around the globe.
Faith succumbs to hard questions
Like many Nigerians, Boye Wemimo (not his real name) was born and raised in a staunch Christian family in Akure, Ondo State.
Waking up every morning for family devotion and ending the day with family prayers was a daily routine for the 37-year-old.
“At one point in my teenage years,” Wemimo told Saturday TheNigerian, “I even considered entering the seminary to become a Catholic priest. In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t.”
“By the time I was 10, I had already read the Bible cover to cover, from Genesis to Revelation, at least twice. It was easy then because we had a children’s Bible filled with colourful pictures of Bible characters.”
As Wemimo entered his teenage years, he was not only well-versed in the Bible and Christianity but also immersed in the dogmas and teachings of the Catholic Church.
“I was steeped in Christian apologetics and found a rush of dopamine whenever I debated Muslims and protestant Christians, including Jehovah’s Witnesses who came by on Sunday evenings to preach to us,” he recounted.
From all appearances, Wemimo was confident in the fortress of his faith, but the probing questions that constantly flowed through his inquisitive mind gradually caused the fabric of his beliefs to unravel.
“I remember when I was 11, I asked my mother, ‘What if all we have always known about religion is false?’ With the benefit of hindsight, I now know that most of what I thought I knew was either false or half-truth.”
“Re-reading the Bible raised more questions than it answered, but I suppressed any urge to leave the church by consoling myself with the church’s words: ‘You can’t understand it because it’s a mystery. You will understand it fully when you die and get to heaven,’” Wemimo added.
While the crisis of faith was eroding the ideological foundations of his beliefs, the vices he heard about among the clergy further diminished his confidence in the church.
The final straw came when Wemimo lost his mother—the only woman who had always lovingly provided a listening ear and answers to his questions.
“All of a sudden,” he reflects, “the unresolved questions came crashing down on me, and one Sunday, at the beginning of Mass, I stood up, walked out of the church, and never returned.”
In his religious search, Wemimo sought to gain a perspective on what other religions taught and soon began studying books on the mystics of India and the ancient Kemetic (Egyptian) religion.
“Though I wasn’t ready to accept new teachings,” he said, “I realised that some of what I read made sense. Christianity had closed my mind to the viewpoints of other religions, but once I left, I was able to open my mind to see what resonated with me.”
“Then I came across books explaining Ifá spirituality. I was shocked to find it wasn’t filled with commands to do evil or anything like that. As I delved deeper into it, I realised that Christianity and Islam had misrepresented the true nature of Ifá spirituality,” he added.
Although he has embraced a new spiritual path, Wemimo still struggles to openly discuss his religious identity due to the discrimination and backlash he might face.
“I don’t want to hurt my family by telling them I’ve left Christianity,” he confided.
The 2020 edition of the World Christian Database predicted that both Muslims and Christians would continue to grow as a proportion of the population through 2050.
Their projections also indicated that by then, Christians would make up 48 per cent of the population, with Muslims at 48.7 per cent, both growing at the expense of traditional religions, which would shrink to 2.9 per cent of the population.
Commenting on the reasons why young people appear to defect from the Christian faith, the pastor of Multiply Christian Network, Daniel Okunoye, explained that many people who professed to be Christians lacked knowledge of the Bible and were “not rooted in the word of God.”
“Many of them come from families that are involved in traditional practices. They may have head knowledge of the Bible, but secretly seek wisdom from other sources. As a result, their minds aren’t transformed, and they aren’t grounded in God’s love,” he said.
“Additionally, their faith may have been anchored on a person or a religious institution that eventually let them down. These individuals usually have a form of godliness, but they lack the power of God, which leaves them with the impression that there is power elsewhere,” he added in his interview with Saturday TheNigerian.
‘I wanted to become an Alfa’
Like Wemimo, Opeyemi Adepoju, who grew up in Ilorin, Kwara State, was raised in a strict Muslim household.
“I didn’t convert to traditional spirituality; I reverted to it,” he told Saturday TheNigerian. “Both my parents and siblings are Muslims. I loved Islam. I believed in Allah, Jehovah, and also Olodumare.”
“My plan had always been to become an Islamic cleric (Alfa), especially because I schooled in Ilorin. I have always been interested in Arabic studies. At the age of five or six, I went to Ile kewu (a semi-formal Quranic school) to learn, and when I was in senior secondary school, I found a fellow student who was well-versed in Arabic to teach me.”
When he was admitted to university to study English Language, his exposure to different religious ideas sparked his curiosity about traditional spirituality.
“When I was in my 200 level, there was a course called Comparative Religious Studies that changed my impression of Islam. Initially, I wasn’t paying much attention to the course content in Research in Comparative Religion because I just wanted to score well, and some of the things they taught were strange to me.
“But when we took a course called African Pantheons, which I found fascinating, it ignited my interest. As I began researching and reading about it online, particularly the preparation of a sacred space, I noticed similarities with practices in Islam,” Adepoju explained.
After conducting extensive research, the 27-year-old described the agenda behind colonialism as a deliberate plan to introduce “a repackaged idea by defaming the original concept so that you would abandon it and accept what they want to give you.”
Adepoju continued, “It was through studying African traditional spirituality that I realised many things our alfas told us about it were untrue. They discredited traditional spirituality so much that you wouldn’t even want to consider it.”
“Back then, I never listened to anyone in Isese because of what we had been taught about it from childhood. But my perspective changed when I met practitioners of Isese, and my understanding of God shifted.”
Describing how he endures derogatory remarks from his relatives, he shared that his immediate sister, who has embraced Christianity, has shunned him.
“Whenever we talk, and I reference an Odu Ifa, she tells me to shut up and refuses to listen to anything else I say. I also have a Muslim friend who looks at me with disdain since I revealed my beliefs. He avoids greeting or talking to me.”
“Initially, my mother reported me to my uncles, trying to pressure me to return to Islam, but they told her that I have the right to choose my path. Since embracing Yoruba spirituality, I have no regrets.”
“I don’t despise Islam,” he clarified. “I believe all religions preach love, kindness, and human values, and the same applies to traditional spirituality. I can’t say we all worship the same God, but we are not evil. This is the path in which I will raise my children.”
“It’s a crime to force an adult against their own judgment,” stated Ismaila Bello, a Muslim comparative religious analyst, in an interview with Saturday TheNigerian. “Islam is not by force. People should be allowed to choose which religion they belong to, and if they want to embrace Isese, they shouldn’t face persecution.”
“The Messenger of Allah told the polytheists in Mecca in Surah 109, ‘I do not worship what you worship, nor are you worshippers of what I worship. For you is your religion, and for me is my religion.’ While we maintain a distinction between monotheism and shirk (polytheism), we must not impose our religion on others.”
