I Hold in My Hand…: Prestige, Rank, and Power

While kings and other dignitaries continue to display objects as potent symbols of rank in the twenty-first century, it is apparent that changes have taken place. The adá is still restricted in use in Ọ̀wọ̀ to those who have the right to rule as Ọba (Fig. 7). The Olọ́wọ̀, as paramount ruler, is honored by the instrument being held before him by an uma'da as he sits in state or walks in public.¹⁰ The shape of the adá has changed little over time, and the state swords of past Olọ́wọ̀s are kept in the palace.

Although such regalia goes far back in history, and the shape of the adá remains constant, numerous variations are apparent in other paraphernalia gripped in the hand. Change is inherent in any culture. Some objects, once seemingly plentiful, are used only rarely today. On occasion, older iron objects are cleaned and sprayed with aluminum or brass paint. The materials of manufacture have changed in some. Moreover, the means of decoration of others is more grandiose than in the past. Change is considered inherent in brassworking. In 1973 brass workers told Poynor that patterns are developed “as time goes along,” but that there is a tendency to change them (Fig. 8). “Although the father made designs,” Poynor was told, those earlier attempts may not have been effective for recent times, and the sons “will probably modernize it.”¹¹ Contemporary observers use similar terminology about modernizing. Today's agada and ape, for example, have been transformed into showier objects than those of the past. Comparison of apes photographed by Justine Cordwell in 1949 (Fig. 9a) and that held in 2019 by Olọ́wọ̀ Ogunoye III during his installation (Fig. 9b) demonstrates assertions about “modernizing” older traditional objects. While the 1940s swords have the same silhouette, the openwork of the 2019 version is more flamboyant, its lettering more extensive. One of the apes held by the Olọ́wọ̀ consists of “double blades,” each at a ninety-degree angle to the other.

Handheld swords are so much a part of Ọ̀wọ̀'s self-conception that juxtaposition of adá and ape often symbolizes the kingdom. For example, an old carved door in an ùghà (courtyard) in the palace juxtaposes three symbols of leadership—the crown or primary symbol of royalty, and crossed adá and ape (Fig. 10a). A more modern use of these symbols is on the seal of the Olọ́wọ̀—again a crown with crossed swords, adá and ape, with the leopard (ẹkùn), another emblem of royalty (Fig. 10b). The use of such imagery continues. University-trained Ọ̀wọ̀ artist Oluwatosin Kehinde incorporates the adá/ape motif in his sculptures such as the ornamental stair railing for the home of Alhaji Prince Fatai Badewa Ekongba, whose family is among the senior ọmalọghọs (Fig. 11).

In exploring handheld objects that designate position and rank in Ọ̀wọ̀, we investigate the adá, ape, udà (sword of prestige), udamalore (an especially ornate sword and scabbard), agada (short decorative sword), ùrùnkèrè, iyaṣin (horsetail whisks), iyaṣin omalóre (brass “horsetail”), òpá (staff), aṣighere (handheld gong), àjà (small iron bell), and ejújú (ceremonial fan).

Handheld regalia is not limited to the Yoruba. Swords and blades of various kinds and other items of regalia grasped in the hand have long served as symbols of leadership in many African societies. Scholars interpret regalia held by notables as art per se but recognize too that ceremonial objects serve as significant iconography in sculptural representations of leaders, imagery that emphasizes the leadership position held by the individual portrayed.

Past scholarship has highlighted how Akan state swordbearers hold specific swords out to rulers to indicate their leaders’ entitlement to their positions. Swords serve critical roles in ritual events such as a paramount chief's enstoolment. The ruler-elect grasps a specific sword to take the oath of office. Subchiefs lift other swords to affirm loyalty. Official messengers carry swords, and swordbearers are important court officials (Ross 1977: 16; see also Kyerematen 1964; Fraser and Cole 1972; Bravmann 1972; and Cole and Ross 1977).

Among the Baule, chiefs carry whisks with sculpted gold-plated handles, conveying specific meanings for those who view them. Lesser chiefs carry ornamental swords or spears in support of their leader. Such objects may be used for swearing allegiance to a ruler or serve to verify that someone is speaking on behalf of the ruler (Himmelheber 1972: 186-89).¹²

Dress, including handheld objects, distinguishes a large number of titles among the Kuba. As Jan Vansina observed, the Kuba court “worked hard to project an aura of majesty, power, and competence” (Vansina 2010: 184). One asserts his standing within the system in terms of wealth and rank, and material possessions express status. Poynor states in A History of Art in Africa, “Among the most important art forms for the king and titleholders are modes of dress, for garments, accessories, and held objects signal clearly the prerogatives of ranks of nobility or royalty” (Poynor 2001: 397; see also Binkley and Darish 2009; Cornet 1982; Vansina 1972; and Adams 1988). Such dress and regalia evoke not only sacred kingship but also continuity of dynasty. Swords of office and lances were always held by the Kuba king when he wore certain dress ensembles to sit in state. When sculptural portraits (ndop) of the king were made, a consistent motif was the state sword at the left hip.

Mangbetu rulers carried high-quality blades of brass, copper, and ivory as indicative of position. Persons of status also held fly whisks as scepters (Schweinfurth 1969; Schildkrout, Keim, and Gardiner 1990).

Kongo kings and chiefs carried knives, scepters, staffs, and whisks as symbols of both spiritual and administrative power, referring to chiefs’ mediating position between worlds (Cooksey, Poynor, and Vanhee 2013).

Among the Luba, chiefs carried complex staffs as metaphoric extensions of the hand. Such objects detailed family history, migration history, and genealogy. The highest level of office holders carried staffs for historical recitations, and staffs played roles in investiture ritual (Roberts, Roberts, and Childs 1996: 162). Sculpted axes and adzes conveyed status as well and were among objects in royal treasuries, combining ideas of utilitarian and symbolic purpose (Roberts and Roberts 2007).

Ọ̀wọ̀'s near neighbor, Benin, created regalia for kings and nobles much like that in Ọ̀wọ̀. The state sword (adá), the blade made of iron, was one of the most important items of regalia, symbolic of both worldly and religious authority. Court pages carried it before the Ọba in processions and held it before him when he sat in state. Several types of wood, brass, or ivory staffs proclaimed the majesty of the king, often topped with brass or ivory figures representing the office with representations of symbolic animals (Plankensteiner 2007). Chiefs danced with eben, decorative ceremonial swords with iron blades and brass handles.

In 1973 Chief Ashara listed some 847 chieftaincy titles organized within twenty-six groups called òtús.¹³ Among the titles, two sets of chiefs made significant impact on the history of the kingdom. The Ighares of Ulórò are the descendants of the twelve chiefs who accompanied the first Olọ́wọ̀ from Ife. For centuries they functioned as an inner council, conducting religious and court ritual, and serving important roles in burying Olọ́wọ̀s and selecting and installing new ones. Another group consists of high chiefs. As early as the fourteenth century, the eighth Olọ́wọ̀, Asunsola, created the Oshodi title, beginning a tradition of bestowing titles on individuals outside Ulórò for heroic deeds, for outstanding military service, or for overseeing satellite towns. By the reign of Omasan, who ruled in the fifteenth century, descendants of Olọ́wọ̀s (ọmalọ̀ghọ̀s) were given chiefly titles. In time, the political influence of these “outsider” chiefs and ọmalọ̀ghọ chiefs grew so that they carried more political power than the Ulórò Ighares (Poynor 1989: 133-34). High chiefs especially demonstrated positions as wielders of power through extravagant dress and handheld paraphernalia (see Olugbadehan 2016 on the organization of chiefs).

Ọbas and chiefs of the Ọ̀wọ̀ Kingdom still carry objects interpreted by onlookers as defining historical positions within a hierarchy that has persisted for a thousand years. Historical memory does not require regimented repetition of form. An object type might change gradually, or a creative artist can make a sudden and notable change, but the object still conveys the intended memory nudge for viewers. In rare instances collaborations between artists and title holders introduce new objects accepted into the canon. We address some of those changes in the following pages.

Ọ̀wọ̀ is a Yoruba kingdom. Language and stories of origin point to Ife as its foundation. Archaeological excavations support Ọ̀wọ̀'s claim, revealing similar naturalistic terracotta sculpture produced in the fifteenth century. Ọ̀wọ̀ lore states that when Ojugbelu, the first ruler, left Ife, he was given a crown, an ada, and a trumpet by his father.

At the same time, aspects of Ọ̀wọ̀'s court organization as well as similarity of visual paraphernalia imply the kingdom was for a lengthy period drawn more toward Benin than it was to other centers of Yoruba civilization. This too, according to archaeologists Ekpo Eyo and Frank Willett, is suggested by other terracottas excavated in Ọ̀wọ̀ (Eyo and Willett 1980).

While Benin claims to have exercised control over Ọ̀wọ̀ and a number of eastern Yoruba kingdoms, Ọ̀wọ̀ emphatically denies having succumbed to Benin domination. Ọ̀wọ̀ was a significant power herself, with territories stretching northwest toward Ekiti, north to Kabba, northeast to Akoko, and south to Okeluse. Early during his stay in Ilorin, Baptist missionary T.J. Bowen heard of Ọ̀wọ̀ and was alerted to its magnificence, recording in 1857 that he was told “Aw-Waw (Ọ̀wọ̀) was the largest city in Africa” (Olugbadehan 2016: 26).

The fact that Ọ̀wọ̀ separated from the western Yoruba groups a thousand years or so ago, as well as its location far to the east, giving her contact with other language and cultural groups, determined the distinctive nature of Ọ̀wọ̀ culture. The major Yoruba kingdoms of Ife and Oyo, both of which helped to establish the traditions and visual paraphernalia of royal courts in the west, were in some ways much farther than Benin. Ọ̀wọ̀'s position roughly halfway between Ife and Benin, and the fact that Benin attempted to assert influence over most Yoruba groups in the southern and eastern parts of Yorubaland, gave Ọ̀wọ̀ a close look at Edo leadership arts. Benin City is a scant sixty miles as the crow flies from Ọ̀wọ̀, and they shared a border halfway between.¹⁴

Ọ̀wọ̀ historians such as M.B. Ashara and Elerewe Adekanye were fully aware that Ọ̀wọ̀ court traditions were influenced by those of Benin. The stance of Ọ̀wọ̀ leadership is that it was through trade and royal family connections that the two kingdoms are similar. The fact that an Ọ̀wọ̀ prince, Oshogboye, served as a state sword-bearer to the Ọba of Benin in the late sixteenth century is explained in Ọ̀wọ̀ by the fact that this was arranged through royal marriage. On the death of his father, Olọ́wọ̀ Omaro, Oshogboye left Benin without the consent or the knowledge of the Ọba and was crowned Olọ́wọ̀ at the turn of the seventeenth century. Oshogboye is credited with bringing Benin court art and customs to Ọ̀wọ̀. Another Olọ́wọ̀, Adedipe, crowned in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, introduced further Benin-inspired trappings, especially coral and jasper bead dress.¹⁵

There is no doubt that cultural intermingling took place. Ọ̀wọ̀ style and Ọ̀wọ̀ objects were used in the Edo court, and it is assumed that Ọ̀wọ̀ artists worked in Benin. Likewise, a Benin presence, whether through war, trade, or royal family connections, was quite obvious in Ọ̀wọ̀. As a result, leadership arts of Ọ̀wọ̀ are so like those of Benin, and court rituals and ceremonies have such close parallels to Bini court rituals, that Ọ̀wọ̀ would superficially appear to be an Edo kingdom. One of the most notable similar forms is the state sword, and both use the term adá for the sword.

In traditional Yoruba theology, the patron òrìṣà for artists’ creative endeavors was Ogun, associated with iron and the òrìṣà of creativity, warfare, and technology. Few people in Ọ̀wọ̀ prescribe to traditional religious belief today, but for centuries all artists looked to Ogun. In fact, the kingdom has long been recognized for creative artists in all media who created outstanding objects from at least the fourteenth century.¹⁶ Eyo excavated impressive naturalistic terracottas at Igbo'laja, an important cultural and ritual site in Ọ̀wọ̀. Subsequently, ivory carvers produced exceptional carvings, apparently for Benin as well as for local use. Blacksmiths and brass workers kept nobility supplied with magnificent articles to gain the attention of a population that loved the festive public appearances of the king and chiefs in splendid garb, wielding impressive objects at court, and brandishing them as they danced though the streets. Bead workers, usually itinerant, produced beaded embroidery, not only for the king but for chiefs as well.¹⁷

In the past, a custodian of royal paraphernalia, Chief Akensogwaoyen, supervised the rich supply of ceremonial objects in the palace, working to see that the king's regalia was made, repaired, and mended (Olugbadehan 2016: 280).¹⁸ This position has not been filled for some time, at least since the reign of Olagbegi II. Instead, Olọ́wọ̀s now depend on family and staff to make sure the wardrobe and ceremonial objects are in place and ready for use. Chiefs are each responsible for their own supply of garments and objects used at court-related events. Each negotiates with appropriate artists to keep up to date with the latest style of extravagant dress and lavish ceremonial articles.

Handheld regalia are manufactured from a range of materials. Ivory has long been associated with royalty, and Ọ̀wọ̀ was a major ivory carving center. Ọ̀wọ̀ artists were employed in creating ivory objects not only for the Olọ́wọ̀ and the Ọjọmọ-Oluda but also for the king of Benin.¹⁹ Brass, the most important metal for kings and chiefs among the Yoruba, also connoted elevated position.²⁰ While iron was used for utilitarian objects, a number of regalia-related forms were created from the humble metal such as the adá, àjà, etc. (For examples, see Abiodun 2019 and Barnes 1997). And bead embroidery is associated with and limited in use to kings, chiefs, and certain religious specialists. Combinations of materials might be used as in the case when ivory handles are incorporated with iron or brass blades and decorated with beads.

A number of African kingship systems conflate leadership and metallurgy, proclaiming that the first kings were blacksmiths. Thus, it is understandable that iron implements would play explicit roles in leadership regalia. Yoruba origin stories do not extol a blacksmith king, yet iron is recognized as a medium that possesses àṣẹ, the power to make things happen, and Yoruba mythology indeed addresses iron. When Olodumare, the Creator, sent a delegation to earth to make the chaotic void ready, the òrìṣàs descended on an iron chain. Among those spiritual beings was Ogun, god of iron, who obviously had made the chain-for-descent while still in ọrun (the spirit world) before he descended on it. It seems then that the concept of smithing according to Yoruba traditions precedes the peopling of earth and thus predates kingship. As the òrìṣà of iron, Ogun affected every facet of culture. He was sent to the world to make the Earth ready, opening the way, penetrating forests, cultivating land, building cities. As master blacksmith, Ogun made the tools for these tasks and was the sponsor of smiths. He was the ultimate artist; he created the tools used for crafting art. Every artist who used iron tools in the past honored him (Barnes 1997; Abiodun 2019; Poynor 2012). Iron, then, is directly tied to kingship, and some of the most potent objects denoting royalty are made of the metal.

Swords are strongly associated with both Yoruba kingdoms and that of Benin, with whom Ọ̀wọ̀ had close ties. Prior to the introduction of firearms, Yoruba weaponry included a type of sword called agedengbe in western Yorubaland. It had a “broad single-edged iron blade curving backwards, which, like the European falchion, would have great shearing force …” (Smith 1967: 93). Robert Smith assumed that “the variants of sword must have developed from the type of combat envisaged, and reflect the contrasted requirements of the cut, for which the blade is more important, and the thrust, in which the point is used.” However, Smith also stated that the sword is a symbol of office, displayed at great festivals or for occasions such as the coronation of an Ọba or the installation of a chief. The adá is surely a reference to the actual swords of war and an allusion to the role of warrior kings.

Scholars assume that the adá of Benin also developed from weaponry used during wars of expansion, reinforcing the perception of its military might. In Benin, the adá, symbolized the power over life and death (Drewal 2019: 95) and is most closely related to the historical Edo weapon called umozo. When Benin began to move into Yoruba areas to the west and north, it was the adá, along with imported coral beads, that was sent to rulers to make clear their connection to the Edo kingdom (Drewal 2019: 95).

Ọ̀wọ̀ adás are used for several purposes. The blindfolded new Olọ́wọ̀ selects an iron adá from a collection of swords to symbolize the reign of a past Olọ́wọ̀. He lifts the adá during installation ceremonies (Fig. 5).²¹ The sword's history in the administration of a past king suggests the type of reign the new ruler will experience. An adá of white metal may be displayed on some occasions,²² and a page holds an adá sheathed in coral before the Olọ́wọ̀ when he appears at the palace or dances in the streets to celebrate Igogo (Fig. 7).

Whether from Yoruba prototypes or from Benin, the adá is the most important handheld object in the kingdom. A comparison of the Benin adá (Fig. 12) and the Ọ̀wọ̀ adá (Figs. 4-5, 7) demonstrates that the form is essentially the same, a single-edged sword with a convex, curved blade. A few adás are of other metals. Some are fixed with ivory or brass handles. Is it because the adá is the single handheld instrument that denotes rulership that the smiths have not introduced variations of the blade as artists have done with other devices grasped in the hand?

The ape dance sword of Ọ̀wọ̀ is very much like the eben of Benin. Each has a central rib, and the symmetrical silhouette of the flat, openwork sides is reminiscent of the shape of a leaf (Fig. 13).²³ Near the grip is a large brass circle on a plane perpendicular to that of the blade. Made of iron, brass, or aluminum, it is not as restricted in use as the adá. Any chief can use it, and today it is even used on occasion by nonchiefs.²⁴ It has seen variants over time, although the essential outline of the blade remains consistent. In recent times, names and titles are stenciled and cut out, as in Figure 13, where the cutout letters reference the title of the chief who commissioned it. (The lettering on the ape reads “Olufowose / Alaijebi / Ijebu / Owo.”) A few older versions remain, and when they rust or begin to look the worse for wear, aluminum or gold-colored spray paint is applied to make them flashier.

While earlier versions were uncomplicated, with simple, stenciled cut-out shapes (Fig. 9a), today's smiths create extremely ornate swords. Those Ogunoye III danced at his coronation demonstrate the new complexity (Fig. 9b). Each, topped by the silhouette of a crown at the tip of the midrib, has the British Lion-and-Unicorn in the center, and the king's titles and names (“His Imperial Majesty Oba Ajibade Gbadegesin Ogunoye III Olowo of Owo”) work their way around the edge of each blade. While the ape in his right hand is reminiscent of traditional examples, that in his left hand is composed of two sets of “blades” at right angles to each other.

Three types of prestige swords are elegant show pieces during festive occasions. Two are referred to as udà, the third as agada. Historically, the udà²⁵ is long and sharp, sometimes remarkably similar in shape of European swords. In its simplest form, the Ọ̀wọ̀ udà has a long, narrow single- or double-edged iron blade with a grip and handguard. While it was primarily used for war, it could also be used for hunting or personal defense.

Ceremonial versions of udà made of brass typically indicated prestige for warrior chiefs (two examples appear at upper left, Fig. 8). For example, one of the wielders of the long, unadorned brass udà is the Ọjọmọ Oluda of Ijebu-Ọ̀wọ̀. His title translates as “Ọjọmọ, the owner of udà,” since the first carriers of the title were war commanders of the kingdom who fought with the sword on behalf of the Olọ́wọ̀. In Figure 7 Ọjọmọ wears a short brass udà at his waist (partially hidden by the tip of the adá). The Oladokun family emphasized that the longer type (Fig. 8, upper left) are used by wealthy men as showy objects. More ornate examples (Fig. 14) have the grip and guard associated with weapons, but the curved, pointed blade is pierced with patterns and with the title and name of the owner. Decorative udàs are show pieces in chiefly appearances, but on occasion those who are not titleholders manipulate them. For example, lead mourners dance with the ceremonial sword during events that commemorate the deceased, especially during the àjàbuẹ̀, when the younger members of the family dance through the streets to honor the memory of a loved one.

The rather short and highly decorated udamalore is a special form of udà.²⁶ It may be carved of ivory, forged of metal, made of wood covered with bead embroidery, or a combination of media. Ivory udamalore are remarkable objects demonstrating the masterful skills of ivory carvers in the past.²⁷ Examples in the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Fig. 15) and the British Museum share iconography.²⁸ The pommel on the hilt of each is a human head wearing an udàìghà, a beaded cap worn by chiefs and kings. The inlaid eyes and stylized lips are typical of Ọ̀wọ̀ style. A long neck serves as the grip, carved to suggest bands of beads. The part of the blade nearest the hilt shows two variations of interlace knot, associated with nobility. Finally, the tip is dominated by a human figure representing an aristocrat holding an adá or an udà in his right hand, his left fist raised in salute. He wears a patterned skirt, and a ceremonial sword rests at his left hip, perhaps an udamalore. A bird seems to grip the tall, beaded cap.²⁹

An udamalore in the collection of the Houston Museum of Fine Art repeats some of the imagery. The forged metal blade (hidden by the beaded scabbard in the photograph) attaches to an ivory hilt (Fig. 15). Like that in the ivory example, the head on the pommel sports an udàìghà. The carving is very much in the style of the Metropolitan and British Museum pieces. The fine bead-embroidered scabbard exhibits iconography alluding to history, family, and rank. Beaded scabbards often employ iconography recalling that on ivory udamalores. The knot forms at the top and bottom of the scabbard refer to royalty and nobility.³⁰ The ram head icon on the central lappet is depicted on many scabbards (see Fig. 6) and is multivalent in meaning.³¹ It references primary offerings made to ancestors and was sometimes seen as a metaphor for the ancestor.³² It has to do with maleness and the pugnacity of the ram, which is seen as sharp, stubborn, and powerful. The monkey positioned above the ram head refers to an Ọ̀wọ̀ origin story.³³ The human figure may refer to a chief holding objects in the hand.³⁴

Udamalores are less plentiful today and rarely seen. Only two chiefs are reported to have worn beaded udamalores at the 2021 Igogo. The one worn by the Oludoro was a wooden sword, its hilt covered with beads in a pattern of blue diamonds on a yellow ground (Fig. 17). The dominant motif is an abstraction of a European-style crown with “Ch Oludoro” in letters below. The image near the hilt is an abstraction of a hand gripping a sword, while the design at the tip possibly represents an add, both indicating power.³⁵ Today, women have taken up bead working, and this udamalore was created by Alhaja Rafat Saliu, who makes and sells paraphernalia at her shop, Iyaniwuru Cultural Center.

While the use of udamalore, once plentiful, has tapered off, the third type of prestige sword, agada, is ubiquitous in Ọ̀wọ̀ celebrations. And while udamalores have become less ostentatious in design, the agada has become more so. The agada is a short sword carried not only by chiefs but also by a number of other personages. The blade extends from the hilt, gradually swelling to a bulbous shape at the tip (Fig. 18). A few are simple in form without cutout designs; most, however, are densely patterned, and the title and name of the owner are inscribed in openwork. Brass workers in the Oladokun family referred to a variation of agada as agada olorimeji (one that has two-heads), another example of the creative new forms the family introduced in the 1960s and 1970s (Fig. 8, lower row center).

Varied sizes make agada more manipulable by different persons; small ones are light enough to be used by boys or women, heavier versions for those who are stronger. The uses of agada are many. Chiefs carry them during installation, brandish them going to and from Uròghò Olísàghò³⁶ via the palace, or when they go to the palace for ajo, regular celebrations hosted by individual chiefs with the Olọ́wọ̀.³⁷ Those celebrating the life of a recently deceased loved one may use one during àjàbuẹ̀. In this case it can be carried by men who are not chiefs and even by young boys as they lead the male members of the family in honoring the recently deceased prior to the actual burial.

The Olọ́wọ̀ may present agadas to important visitors as royal gifts. When Bola Ahmed Adekunle Tinubu, former governor of Lagos State, once a senator, and a leader of the All Progressive Congress party, visited Ọ̀wọ̀ to announce his bid for presidency in the 2023 election, Olọ́wọ̀ Ogunoye III presented him with an impressive agada (Fig. 18a).

Other celebratory occasions may call for carrying the agada as well. For example, Prince Adegoke Olateru-Olagbegi, the Aladegunwa of Ọ̀wọ̀, carried an agada when he celebrated his sixtieth birthday (Fig. 18b). Seated before those celebrating with him, he gripped a large agada wearing the colorful appliqued èwù egha (tunic) and ṣokoto (trousers) normally associated with chieftaincy. Crescent-shaped cutouts repeated along the edge of Olateru-Olagbegi's agada lead to the identifying openwork information (“Prince Adegoke Olateru-Olagbegi The Aladegunwa of Owo”) displayed along the upper part of the blade and moving around the tip to the underside.

As early as 1504 horsetails were listed among the commodities exported from Portugal to Benin, where they were used “for the adornment of chiefs.” A sixteenth century source recommended sending black horsetails to Benin (Alpern 1995: 30). Since Ọ̀wọ̀ traded with Benin, it is likely that horsetails, like coral from the Mediterranean, arrived via that commercial route. In Ọ̀wọ̀, however, it is short white horsetails, ùrùnkèrè, with handles decorated in beadwork, that are reserved for the Olọ́wọ̀ or ruling Ọbas of satellite towns who carry them as symbols of authority (Figs. 4, 18a).

While only the Olọ́wọ̀ and rulers of towns carry the white ùrùnkèrè, the trio of priests of Oronshen³⁸ and the Asaba of Ulórò carry iyaṣin, long black horsetails, during Igogo processions. However, women are the primary users of black horsetails when groups of women and girls dance during àjàbuẹ̀ and in other women's activities (see Fig. 23).³⁹

Brass workers created another type of object referred to as horsetails, iyaṣin omalóre (iyaṣin of the well-born). A brass conduit is used to make the handle. Some twenty to thirty brass chains dangling from a flange and smaller decorative elements hanging from a knob at the top provide sound and visual movement. When the ariyo posed for Cordwell (Fig. 6), he carried one in his left hand. Although both men and women dance with iyaṣin omalóre, it is mostly women who use it for àjàbuẹ̀ and chieftaincy installations. In Figure 19, newly installed chiefs wear chiefly garb and carry iyaṣin omalóre to make their way to and from Uròghò Olísàghò.

Many visitors to Africa observed the use of staffs as regalia over time, indicating a long history. As early as 1352-53, the Berber scholar Ibn Battuta noted canes in the court of Mali. The Dutch explorer Pieter de Marees and others remarked on such into the seventeenth century. By the 1660s, canes and staffs were among the many goods referred to as “pompous trappings” in the European market, interpreted as

Merchants did not include such “pompous trappings” as trade goods; rather they were usually considered a type of “dash” intended to facilitate trade. Among many types of gifts were silver headed canes (Alpern 1995: 32).

In Ọ̀wọ̀, several types of òpá serve to distinguish Ọbas or chiefs, identifying them as holders of positions. Whether any of the staffs and canes given as early dash ever made their way into Ọ̀wọ̀ would require exploring the holdings of the palace and comparisons to known types of trade items. Imported versions may be stored in the palace from early trade or from colonial times.

The king's staff, òpá àṣẹ (staff of authority), is presented during installation by a representative of state government, as Ondo State governor Rotimi Akeredolu, an Ọ̀wọ̀ native, presented Olọ́wọ̀ Ogunoye III a brass staff with an abstracted crown finial at his inauguration (Fig. 20).⁴⁰

Chiefs carry less ostentatious òpás, normally wood with a finial (Fig. 21a). Some merely carry a walking stick, which still serves to enhance the status of the bearer. The most prestigious are made entirely of brass, but the òpá is often made of wood decorated with beads or a finial of brass, wood, or iron.

Different specialists create various parts of the òpá, as is the case with that of the Olupenmen of Ipenme (Fig. 21a). The staff was made by a bead maker from outside Ọ̀wọ̀, but the finial was created by the brass worker Olarinde Kayode-Are. Wooden handles may be crafted by furniture makers, finials attached to complete them. Others are entirely made of wood with no brass or iron finials. In a few instances, sculptors may create the entire òpá.

Finials can represent animals such as the elephant on the Olupenmen's staff, alluding to the leadership role of the Ọba of the satellite town of Upenmen (Fig. 21a). A bird motif may be used, as was the case of the staff carried by Mrs. Fehintola Famolagun, the Obajere Uwa of Ọ̀wọ̀, the first woman to be given a title traditionally held by men. The metaphorical powers of such animals are shared with its owner. A finial in the form of an iron or brass spearhead may be used by titles associated in the past with the role of warrior.

A special type of staff made up of canes called àtònì (atori in Yoruba) are used on a number of occasions. Canes are cut from glyphaea brevis, a tree traditionally used to demarcate borders.⁴¹ The branches are used as canes by masqueraders throughout Yorubaland to flog onlookers. But those carried by members of the ugbama during Igogo must not be used for punishment.⁴²Glyphaea brevis figured in founding towns and thus associated with ancient customs. During Igogo rituals, the ayoyos of the ugbama age grade carry consecrated àtònì while the ugbamas from other quarters, known as Egbe-Ulu oghogede, do not carry them. Thus, in this instance, the àtònìs are considered sacred. In these events the ayoyos recreate the act of seeking Oronshen, the favored wife of the fourteenth century Olọ́wọ̀ Reregenjen. On one ritual event, the ayoyos visit the palace to present the Olọ́wọ̀ with 200 smoked fish (ugba eja) in one calabash and 200 smoked rats (ugba eku) in another as gifts, expecting gifts in return from the Olọ́wọ̀.

Old àtònìs can be put together to create a special type of òpá carried by three special priests—Alaja (Fig. 21b), Olísàghò, and Oba-ujo.⁴³ Such òpás are transferred from a priest to his successor. They are put together using canes that were previously used in ritual contexts. On rare occasions when a cane within the construction is damaged, it can be replaced. Cowries and other sacred objects attached to these ritual òpás provide “energy” and power. The Alaja brandishes his òpá of àtònì on occasions throughout the yearly Igogo festival: on Ugbate night when onughọ, a sacrificial lamb, is presented to the Ulórò ugbama on the day before Igogo Oghogede (general Igogo); on Uru night of Igogo Ologho; on Uyanna night when the sacrificial lamb for uyanna and other ritual objects are presented for sending to Ugbo Oluwa/Oronshen (Oronshen grove); and on the day of Ugbiyaloke marking the end of Igogo.

Small cone-shaped gongs on long handles are known as aṣighere. While all were traditionally made of iron, today they can be made from different metals. The Olọ́wọ̀, the Ọjọmo-Oluda, and all chiefs carry a gong with a long spike attached by a chain, tapping them as they parade during Igogo. In Figure 7, the Olọ́wọ̀, dressed in coral- or jasper-beaded èwù (tunic), holds the gong portion in his left hand and manipulates the spike with his right.⁴⁴

Iron gongs held by blacksmiths (agbede) in the ugbama grade hold iron aṣighere during Igogo. Agbede are called omalóres, and during rites performed by the ugbama ayoyo, the blacksmiths are exempt from work. They play the aṣighere and sing to entertain their non-agbede compatriots, praising themselves at the same time: “oma ‘lore temi mi re, ogo la i lo” (“I am a well-born individual and a glorious one indeed”).

Another type of iron àjà consists of two small conical bells with clappers and two tappers with pointed tips, connected to the bell by a chain. Only the Akowa, the head of the Ighares from Ulórò, and the Olísàghò of Uròghò use such iron àjàs, symbols of authority for each. While offering invocations for the people and the Olọ́wọ̀, they shake it to emphasize the prayer. In responding to greetings, the chief lifts the àjà and shakes it to acknowledge salutations. Made by blacksmiths, this type àjà is considered an ancient object infused with àṣẹ and symbolizes authority. Its manufacture and appearance never change. Upon the death of the title holder, the àjà transfers to the successor, belonging not to the individual but to the quarter. There is a popular saying, “a ľ àjà gbe àjà s'oke wi àṣẹ, Wo de ma hun yo fe fo? Ki to fe s'adura tabi sure” (“The owner of àjà raised his àjà and you are saying amen. Do you know his intention? If he's casting a spell or offering prayers?”)⁴⁵

Another type of àjà used by the Olugbule was traditionally a single conical bell with a clapper, longer and larger than the double iron bells used by the Akowa and the Olísàghò. It too was formerly made of iron, but the current Olugbule commissioned one of brass (Fig. 22a).⁴⁶ In the innovative example, four conical bells (one surrounded by three others), each with a clapper, connect to a single long stem, embellished with numerous jangles. The stem ends with an ape form.

Gongs and bells are important instruments in Ọ̀wọ̀ traditions. Bells (agogo) fulfill numerous functions—from the bells traditionally placed on ancestor altars to summons the ancestors to various iterations of bells and gongs held by dignitaries in celebratory occasions. So important is the concept of the bell that the most important festival, Igogo, is named for the percussion instrument agogo.

The ejùjú is a circular hand fan made of animal skin or leather in varying sizes (Fig. 22b). Aides carry ejùjús for cooling the Olọ́wọ̀ when he sits in state. The Olọ́wọ̀'s ejùjú is larger and in some cases is decorated with feathers of exotic birds. Chiefs and Ero celebrants use the ejùjú as a cooling device as well, but they also sit upon them when participating in palace activities or other cultural events that require sitting on the hard concrete benches that line the various ritual courtyards.

Several chiefs (the Olugbelu, the Alaja, and the Oba-ujo) do not bow to greet the Olọ́wọ̀. Instead, they sit in his presence on their ejùjús. Others carry the object as a sign of prestige. In addition to the chiefs and the Ero celebrants, the senior cadre of another set of ugbama from Ugboroko, Eyinogbe, and Isaipen quarters known as egbe-ulu, make use of the ejùjú as a sign of their status as olori ugbama (Fig. 22b). Using the ejùjú as a type of percussive instrument, they tap its surface with their palms to make sounds while processing from their base at Oshogban's court to the Olọ́wọ̀'s palace during the Igogo festival. While at the palace, they sing, keeping rhythm with the ejùjú: “Lotu Ugboroko, lotu Eyin Ogbe, ejùjú ma fo o” (“òtús of Ugboroko, Eyin Ogbe, ejùjú is not audible”). The unison response is: “eeee lotuwa” (“ok, we've heard”). Then: “ki ejùjú ma fo Olọgwọ ma ja de o” (“if no sound of ejùjú is heard, Olọ́wọ̀ will not come out”).

Ejùjú is also a musical instrument known as apàpàrà when it is tapped with a stick to produce a different sound. This is common during the Ero festival or when a newly installed chief is going to Uròghò Olísàghò for rites of allegiance to the Olọ́wọ̀ after installation, as well as at other important occasions.

In the past, ejùjús were locally made of antelope or deer skin and were large, round objects. In recent years, they are imported, usually purchased from Hausa traders by dealers in chieftaincy regalia, The new versions are smaller, and rather than the brown of antelope skin, they are black and white, reflecting the use of cow hides from the north.

Thus, the ejùjú is not only a fan for cooling but something to sit on and a musical instrument. Its use is pronounced today, as more men perform the Ero ritual and greater numbers of chiefs make use of them.

While brass workers and blacksmiths continue making traditional handheld objects, as discussed, brass workers especially experiment with forms and introduce new ones, sometimes responding to requests by imaginative users. Kokumo Palmy Kayode-Are expressed surprise when Tunde Onibode suggested creating miniature apes and agadas connected by a chain. Kayode-Are accepted the challenge, creating the set in Figure 23, which Onibode wore during Igogo festivities and subsequently for the àjàbuẹ̀ preceding his mother's funeral. (The novelty can be carried on festive occasions or worn draped over the neck. Onibode prefers to drape it.) The innovation so impressed those who saw it that others commissioned Kayode-Are to replicate the form.

In addition to local patronage, the Kayode-Are family receives commissions from outside the area. The Oni of Ife, Ọba Ogunwusi, ordered a set of apes and agadas from Olarinde Kayode-Are to be presented to wealthy business magnate Sir Kessington Adebutu of Lagos when he was installed Odole Oodua.⁴⁷ After Adebutu's installation, the Oni installed his wives, Dame Caroline Oladunni and Kofoworola Aminat, as Yeyemode Oodua and Yeyerewa Oodua, respectively. The enormous agadas made for the two women are grandiose examples of Olarinde Kayode-Are's artistry (Fig. 24). He spelled out the names and new titles of the honorees in openwork around the borders. In addition, he crafted elaborate apes for Adebutu and his two wives (visible in the foreground of Fig. 24).

As a client of another member of the brass-working family, Olarinde Kayode-Are, the Oni asked for “something good and unique” to carry during the Olojo festival.⁴⁸ The result was an innovative type of òpá. Miniature apes and agadas, not unlike those he made for Onibode, are suspended by brass chains from a circular band. A miniature head in the style of fourteenth century Ife objects serves as a finial. While the head is cast, the myriad miniature swords are cut- and-annealed (Fig. 25a).

Another “something good and unique” the Ọ̀wọ̀ brass worker created for the Oni was a pair of òpá ajé (staff of wealth). When the business tycoon Toyin Kolade was instated as Iyalaje Oodua, the Oni presented her with the staffs (Fig 25b). Ajé is the personification of wealth, so Kayode-Are chose to use cowrie shells, ancient symbols for commerce and wealth among the Yoruba.⁴⁹

Pageantry and festival have a long history in Ọ̀wọ̀, and celebrations in which the Olọ́wọ̀ and chiefs appear in various garments—red wool orufanran laden with decorative ornaments of ivory or brass, aghokun with coral beaded udàìghà (headdress) and pàkátò (sash), or colorful appliqued èwù egha (tunic) and ṣokoto (trousers)—lifting symbolic objects as they dance through the streets or visit the palace. Some have likely been celebrated for hundreds of years. The people of Ọ̀wọ̀ continue to love festive occasions, whether it is the annual seventeen-day Igogo with daily rituals and commemorations, the ajos in which chiefs take turns hosting their òtú in their own quarter and then dance with family, friends, and well-wishers to the palace, the installations of new chiefs as they process with their families and supporters to Uròghò Olísàghò and then to the palace, the àjàbuẹ̀s when families celebrate recently deceased elders, the Ero festival for elders-to-be performed every ninth year, the installation of a new Ọba in a satellite town, or the crowning of a new Olọ́wọ̀. Each is a time for rejoicing, for gathering in the streets, for parading in fine dress, for singing, and for dancing. Each appearance echoes some aspect of the history of the ancient city. And the holding, lifting, waving, or brandishing of adá, ape, udà, udamalore, agada, ùrùnkèrè, iyaṣin, iyaṣin omalóre, òpá, aṣighere, àjà, ejùjú, or “something good and unique” on these occasions reiterates prestige, rank, and position. Viewers respond with joy and delight, voicing their approval and appreciation of Ọ̀wọ̀'s unique culture with shouts of “Âṣẹ! Âṣẹ!”