Tag Archives: family

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.

“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.

“Clap for yourself!”

Text:

“Clap for yourself!”

Context:

The informant, I, remembers hearing this phrase a lot in Nigerian culture when someone does something that doesn’t really deserve praise but acts like it does. It’s usually said sarcastically, especially when someone makes a mistake or brags about a small task. For example, when she would boast about doing something simple like cleaning up her room, her mother would often say “Clap for yourself!” to humorously point out that it’s not worth bragging about.

Analysis:

“Clap for yourself” is a funny way to tease someone who thinks they’ve done something great when it’s actually not that impressive. It’s often used to make fun of someone who is overestimating their actions. This phrase is a part of Nigerian culture and is used to joke with friends or family in a lighthearted way. It shows how humor is used to remind people to stay humble and not get carried away with small achievements. Even though it points out someone’s mistake or exaggeration, it’s said in a fun, teasing way to keep the mood relaxed and friendly.

40 Days After Death

“We do it because [the soul of someone has passed away recently] wanders around for 40 days before they settle on where they want to go. That’s why we pray to help them find their way to Heaven to because they don’t know where they are.” 

As a Filipino-Catholic, my family has many rituals that we perform at different life events. One of the most recent ones that my family has performed is the “40 days after death” prayer ritual we perform after a family member has passed away. For the first 9 days after the person has passed, my family comes together to pray the rosary together and recite the Novena for the Dead. After that, it’s usually the older relatives and those closest to the recently deceased who continue to pray the rosary daily, leading up to the final day when everyone comes together again to repeat the ritual one last time. 

The contents of this ritual are very heavy and the environment is usually quite solemn when this happens. However, when talking to my mom about it, she then started talking about how my whole family only comes together for weddings and funerals. These types of life events provide enough of a reason for people to reshuffle their busy schedules to come out and partake in the event. She then proceeded to talk about the fun memories with cousins that she doesn’t really hang out with and the dinners that occur after the prayer is done. It made me think about my own memories with this prayer, and how I also have had fond memories with my cousins and relatives that I didn’t meet until that time. Ironically, thinking back to these heavily sad periods of time where my family had lost someone, my mom and I first remember the memories of our family coming together for this person and to take part in this ritual. This 40 day of death ritual is ironically something that brings me a bit of happiness and community in a dark time, and I love my family for keeping that tradition alive for I believe that this familial togetherness is something that we value strongly. 

Golden Eggs, Ham, and the “Easter Feeling”

Text

Every Easter, our entire extended family gathers at my grandmother’s house. There was never a formal reason–my grandma told me, “It just sort of ended up that way.” What began as a casual decision eventually solidified into tradition.

My Grandma recalled one of her favorite parts, “you kids would sprint through the backyard and living room for the Easter egg hunt. I loved it…” “…I always laughed at the fact that even though there were dozens of eggs filled with chocolate, you were all focused on the same thing: the ‘golden eggs…’” The golden eggs are indeed funny, there were always three of them–shiny, oversized plastic eggs that each held a five-dollar bill. We, as kids, didn’t really understand the value of five dollars back then. What mattered was the rarity. The golden eggs were sacred. We fought over them like little archaeologists hunting treasure, more excited by the idea of “winning” than by what was inside.

Later in the day, we’d all sit down for Easter dinner, always centered around a glazed ham. My grandma told me that it came from her father–“He always made a ham for Easter.” What she added, without ever needing to say so out loud, was the practice of everyone bringing something to the table. As the guest list grew each year, so did the variety of dishes. The potluck-style meal grew naturally out of necessity, but it came to define our Easter just as much as the egg hunt.

This last Easter was different. There was no egg hunt–there hasn’t been for a few years now–and the gathering wasn’t at Grandma’s house. Her home was damaged in the LA fires, and fewer people were able to come. Still, my grandma told me, “It still felt like Easter… There was family. There was laughter. And there was ham.”

Context

This tradition was expanded upon to me by my grandmother, who reflected fondly on years of hosting Easter at her home. She admitted that it wasn’t originally her intention to become the family’s “Easter matriarch”–it just happened. Over time, her home became the default gathering spot, and rituals formed naturally around that consistency.

She described the joy of watching us as children during the egg hunts, laughing at how seriously we took the hunt for the golden eggs. Though she couldn’t recall when or why that part of the tradition started, it clearly took on a life of its own. The money inside the eggs was never the point–it was the prestige, the shimmer, the chase. Something she[and I] looks back on now with warm nostalgia.

The dinner evolved more deliberately. She explained that her father always served ham on Easter, and when she began hosting, she continued that tradition. Over time, guests began bringing dishes of their own. She never asked them to–it just became understood. In her words, “It was never about telling people what to bring. It just made sense.” The gathering grew, the table expanded, and Easter became an informal but deeply rooted expression of our family’s thread that ties us all together.

Even after being unable to enter her home[thankfully not burnt down], and despite the changing logistics and attendance, she expressed a deep certainty: the “Easter feeling” had nothing to do with eggs or décor. It was about presence, food, and connection.

Analysis

This entry illustrates how informal rituals, when repeated and emotionally reinforced, evolve into meaningful family folklore. What began as a loose gathering became tradition through consistency and emotional investment. The Easter egg hunt, the golden eggs, and the communal meal are all ritualized behaviors that define Easter–not by religious observance, but by shared memory and performance.

The “golden egg” tradition, though not rooted in ancient folklore, mirrors folkloric patterns–assigning symbolic value to a rare object and embedding it in a playful competition. As with many children’s traditions, the meaning wasn’t in the literal reward, but in the emotional significance, the role-playing, and the storytelling that followed. It reflects how children interact with tradition through symbolism, scarcity, and status–concepts that resonate across many cultural customs.

Similarly, the evolution of the Easter meal highlights adaptive ritual: how tradition grows through informal negotiation. The potluck-style dinner wasn’t dictated–it arose organically, responding to shifting family size and resources. This mirrors how many communal folk practices begin: organically, in response to need, but later sustained by emotional investment.

The somewhat loss of the family home due to the LA fires introduces another layer: how tradition persists even in the absence of its physical setting. My grandmother’s insistence that “it still felt like Easter” reveals a truth about folklore–it’s less about place or object, and more about feeling, continuity, and presence. Even stripped of its original setting, the tradition held. And that endurance–the “Easter feeling”–is the most folkloric element of all.