Category Archives: general

Oji (Kola Nut)

Object:
Oji (Kola Nut) – “Symbol of Hospitality and Unity”

Context:
The informant, I, remembers her father often asking her to bring the Oji to the table when guests were coming over. This was a tradition in their family, especially for important visits. She says her father would break the Oji and offer pieces to the guests as a sign of welcome and respect. This happened during family gatherings or when visitors from outside their community arrived.

Analysis:
The Oji holds deep cultural significance in Igbo society, representing hospitality, unity, and respect for guests. The act of breaking the Oji is not just about sharing food, but about symbolically breaking down barriers and creating a bond between host and guest. The ceremonial act reinforces the value of community and the importance of acknowledging and honoring those who visit. The passing down of this practice within families highlights the role of tradition in maintaining cultural ties and fostering a sense of belonging. Through this ritual, the Oji serves as a powerful reminder of the communal values and customs that are central to Igbo identity.

“Time is money, you’re a big spender”

Text:
The informant, A, recalls a high school classmate saying, “Time is money, you’re a big spender,” whenever they were working on tedious task such as a project or in-class exercise and felt it was taking too long.

Context:
The classmate would usually say this during group projects or in class work sessions, especially when the work felt repetitive or long.

Analysis:
This saying twists the common phrase “Time is money” by adding humor. Instead of saying they’re wasting time, the classmate plays with the idea that they’re “spending” it freely. Even though they weren’t literally losing money, the comparison made it clear that spending too much time on something unproductive can feel like a loss, similar to a financial loss. The lighthearted delivery might also suggest a coping mechanism for dealing with the frustration of tedious work.

“For beauty, you must suffer.”

Text:
When A was in high school and had pimples, her mother would pop them for her. Whenever A complained that it hurt, her mother would respond, “For beauty, you must suffer.”

Context:
The informant, A, recalls hearing this phrase frequently from her mother, especially during moments involving personal grooming that were physically uncomfortable, like popping pimples or plucking eyebrows. While A understood that her mother meant it lightheartedly, it also reflected a deeper, often unspoken expectation around beauty standards. A noted that this phrase extended beyond skincare. For example, her mother would say it when discussing the discomfort of wearing heels or shapewear like Spanx.

Analysis:
This phrase highlights how societal beauty standards, specifcally for women, are often tied to discomfort or even pain. The expectation is that beauty requires sacrifice, whether it’s enduring physical discomfort or investing significant time and effort. It reinforces the idea that beauty is an achievement rather than an inherent trait, one that must be worked for and maintained. The fact that the phrase was passed down from mother to daughter goes to show how these standards are often perpetuated within families, sometimes without conscious reflection. Ultimately, the saying reflects a broader cultural narrative about the price of fitting into conventional ideals of beauty.

“Tinye ya n’isi m”

Text:

“Tinye ya n’isi m”

Translation: “Put it on my head”

Context:

The informant, I, remembers hearing this phrase from her mother whenever she asked where to put something or needed help with a small task. It was used in a sarcastic or funny way, especially when the task seemed boring or annoying. For example, if she asked her mom where to place a bag or a book, her mom might respond with “Tinye ya n’isi m” meaning she didn’t want to deal with it but was joking about it. This phrase is common in Nigerian families and shows how people use humor to deal with minor frustrations. Interestingly, the informant now uses this saying on her own children.

Analysis:

“Tinye ya n’isi m” or “Put it on my head” is a playful way of showing frustration without being rude. In Nigerian culture, this phrase is often said in a lighthearted manner to show that a task is not important or is irritating, but without being too serious. It shows how family members use humor to express annoyance while keeping things friendly and fun. The phrase is an example of folklore, as it reflects shared cultural practices and expressions passed down through generations.

Obanje Child

Story:

PA: “Ah, my child, in the old days, people feared the Ogbanje. These were children who came from the spirit world, but they were never meant to stay. A mother would give birth, love the child, care for them, and just when she thought they would grow strong, eh, just like that, the child would fall sick and die. But it wouldn’t end there, no. That same mother would take in again, and when she gave birth, the baby would look the same, act the same, even carry the same stubborn ways.

People knew what was happening. It was the same child coming back to torment the family, to bring sorrow again and again. That is why they would go to the dibia, the healer, to find a way to stop it. Sometimes, they would cut a mark on the child’s body small, small scars, so that if they died and returned, they would see the mark and know they had been caught. Other times, the dibia would search for the child’s Iyi-uwa, a secret thing the Ogbanje hides in the earth, tying them to the spirit world. If they found it and destroyed it, ah, the child could stay. They would become like any other child, no more running away.”

Context:

The informant is an Igbo elder who grew up hearing about Ogbanje children from their own elders and witnessed how deeply people believed in them. They first heard about it as a child from older relatives and saw families who lost children seek out traditional healers for help.

My Interpretation:

The Ogbanje story is a really interesting way that Igbo people explained something as painful as losing a child. Instead of seeing it as just bad luck or illness, they believed some children were spirits that came and went, causing grief for their families. The idea of marking the child or finding their Iyi-uwa was a way to stop the cycle and make sure the child stayed.

Even today, some people still believe in Ogbanje, or at least know someone who does. It shows how strong traditional beliefs can be, even when times change. Whether or not someone believes in spirits, this story makes it clear how much families struggled with repeated child loss and how they tried to find ways to protect their children.