King Sunny Ade, the Juju musician who popularized the Yorúbà folk song quoted here, created the lyrics to serve as a caustic warning to his rivals, critics, and detractors that any attempt to undermine his creative abilities will be met with strong opposition likened to an outright annihilation—the stock in trade of the Oro institution.2 When I began my research into the intriguing tradition of Egungun, I quickly learnt a counterhegemonic negation of the song lyrics: “If a woman knows cult secret, she must never tell.”3 That statement is deliberately adopted here, as it recognizes the limitations placed on women in a cultural tradition that was partly invented by them, in spite of their knowledge and leadership position within the cult of Egungun. While reinforcing this societal norm on the restriction and access to esoteric knowledge, Barber (1981: 739) noted that “The important thing is not women's actual ignorance, but the maintenance of a respectful silence about their knowledge. It is a matter of keeping up appearances for the sake of ancestral dignity.”In spite of the overwhelming presence and visibility of women in every aspect of the public procession and organization of Egungun, little scholarly attention has been devoted to the role and position that women occupy in the annual celebrations of Egungun. In a bid to address this anomaly, this essay focuses on the unique position of women in the installation and consecration rituals of Egungun, specifically addressing their roles as guides, singers, and dancers in the public performances of Egungun. I will also examine the position of women as custodians of the ethical codes and histories of Egungun and highlight the multi-faceted roles women perform in the staging and reenactment of this ancient tradition. Our goal here is to demonstrate the symbiotic relationship between male and female counterparts in their roles to establish the cultural phenomenon that is now known as Egungun. It follows, therefore, that the position of women cannot be ignored or marginalized. On the contrary, we seek to remind the readers of the preeminent position of women as active members within most of the major religious organizations and especially the Yoruba Egungun. Indeed, Ifa cautions that, to ignore the position of women is to invite disaster, disorderliness and strife in every aspect of human endeavors.Mediated more by the principle of inclusiveness and collaboration, the Yorúbà religious sphere is neither hierarchically structured nor entirely fragmented along gender divides; rather, it is organized on the basis of equality, parity, and mutual respect. That ethos of inclusiveness, best articulated in the aphorism omode gbon, agba gbon la fi da'le Ife (“the wisdom and perception of both the youth and the elders were the organizing principle in the establishment of Ife”), fosters the spirit of mutual respect and recognition in Yorúbà philosophical thought and value system. Using oral literature as the basis of its critical vocabulary, this essay examines a selection of ritual objects in the repertoire of Egungun with apparent feminine associations and symbolism.A number of scholars' works represent significant touchstones either on Egungun in general or more specifically on women within Yorúbà religious spaces,4 including myself (Campbell 2015, 2016, 2020). The unusual sensitivity and close attention to the peculiar idiosyncratic representation and position of women within Yorúbà social landscape became important signpost as I contemplated the complexity of the subject while undertaking the field research upon which this essay was based.From its very beginning in the ancient city of Oyo through its contemporary manifestations, women have played strategically important and prominent roles in the multifaceted yet intriguing aspects of the cult of Egungun. Of the positions ascribed to women, one is hereditary and the others determined by the circumstances or accident of birth. Each presupposes the role such women would play in the hierarchy of the cult. A girl born with an umbilical cord on her chest is considered ato, as the umbilical cord on the chest of the newborn metaphorically refers to the whip (atori) that is ritually used by followers of Egungun. Atori functions in the final funeral rites for members, either as entertainment when young men flog each other as a test of endurance or as part of their strategy of maintaining some level of hegemonic control over noninitiates and also as part of shrine installation on the graves of departed ancestors. The position of the female child may also be predetermined because children born with the caul or membrane are regarded as natural maskers from the otherworld. Hence, such female children, while not necessarily allowed to mask, function as guides or as leaders for their respective Egungun group. The final category of women who act as leaders is that of the third child in a set of triplets (ibeta); if a female child, it is assumed that their roles have already been predetermined from the otherworld. Hence, these special children are usually referred to as eta oko, eketa omo (the metaphoric third stone; the third child in a set of triplets), or sometimes, derisively, Eṣu l'ehin'beji (“Eṣu, the trickster deity behind the twins”). More axiomatically, the position of the third triplet is conceptualized as that crucial member who maintains the principle of balance, similar to the tripartite composition of the hearthstones. This underscores the supportive nature and indispensability of each child, best exemplified in the Yorúbà saying, aaro meta ti kii da obe nu (“the three hearthstones that stabilizers the cooking pot”).In the category of hereditary leaders, such roles are conferred based on the demonstrated interest of the female leader, or perhaps because of the peculiar history or circumstance of their family, or simply arising from ritual prescription usually determined by divination. Such women leaders are conferred with the titles of Iya Agan, Iyamode, Iya Agba Oje, and Yeyesorun, which in principle are honorary titles that could be given to any member of the community in recognition of their role and interest in the celebration and preservation of cultural history and memory.In order to attain a nuanced and engaging understanding of the intriguing dimension of the role of women within Egungun in the city of Ibadan, we need to begin by historicizing the unique relationship between Egungun and women in the establishment of the tradition from ancient city of Oyo, the site of the first masquerade performances and celebrations. Consequently, we begin by examining some of the myths and legends surrounding the introduction of Egungun into Oyo social organization, long before the fall and tragic dismemberment of Oyo-Katunga, the citadel of the ancient kingdom in the 1830s. In its present distinctive form and pageantry, Eesa Ogbin ara Ogbojo, the eponymous ancestor of Yorúbà wood carvers and theatrical performers, created the first costume in collaboration with Erubami Abimbowo, Oba Abiodun Adegoriolu's mother. The finished product is an elaborate montage of quilted fabrics, leather and wood, fossilized animal bones, forged metal, and cowries as well as colorful beads and choice sashes appropriated from women (Babalola 1967).The embodiment of the reincarnated ancestor, usually seated in the sacred shrine within the palace at Oyo Ile, acted as Iyamode, together with the league of very old women (baba Bara), in the palace, to whom the ruler was bound to ritually prostrate himself as a token of respect and submission despite the fact that once installed as Oba, the Yorúbà ruler does not greet anybody in that manner again (Johnson 1921, 2006; Babayemi 1980: 20). The gesture of obeisance to these women is at once a negation and contradiction of the very essence and meaning of divine power and authority wielded by Yorúbà rulers. The ruler as an embodiment of power (eru jeje; iku baba yeye, “who operate from the height of an oriṣa”; Abiodun 1989: 2; Olupona 2011) cannot be subservient to any temporal or secular authority within the human realm. Thus, the ruler is a divine entity, an earthly representative and deputy of both the ancestors and the gods (igbakeji oriṣa). The unique phenomenon of the Iyamode complex together with the power wielded by members of the Ogboni society represent isolated exceptions, which further complicates the conceptualization of notions of divine authority and power within Yorúbà society.Therefore, the closely knit society of elderly women once referred to as baba Bara—”fathers in Bara”—were in essence a group of postmenopausal women (who are considered beyond gender categorization in the Yorúbà religious sphere) that Alaafin Sango relied upon as intermediaries between him and the spirit of his late “father” Oranyan. Thus, the coteries of elderly women were at the very core of the mystery of Egungun and the reincarnated souls of the departed. The women were a law unto themselves. They enjoyed many vital social privileges and could do whatever they wanted without any fears of molestations or reprisals. According to Solomon Babayemi (1980), “These women were allowed to practically take any items from the open market whenever they left the confines of the palace, without necessarily paying for such items.” That same practice continues today, as certain categories of women continue to enjoy many special privileges while playing active roles as prominent members among the key functionaries of the cult of Egungun in the city of Ibadan.We now turn to some of the most important ritual paraphernalia in the costume of Egungun with very strong and compelling metaphoric as well as visual connections with this category of spiritually powerful women in modern Yorúbà society. We begin with the sash.Variously known as Igbaja, ipele, iborun, itagbe, or oja, the sash is quite easily one of the most remarkable materials used in the construction of Egungun costumes (Fig. 1). It also represents the signification of the bond of collaboration between Eesa Ogbin and Erubami Abimbowo earlier mentioned. On another level, the sash (oja) references the umbilical cord, which both metaphorically and physically binds the child to the mother in the womb. Through this mysterious connection, the fetus received sustenance in the form of oxygenated blood inside the amniotic sac. That relationship continues upon arrival in the physical world until it is severed by cutting the cord that connects mother and child. Yet, throughout the period of infancy, the child still depends on the mother for affection, care, love, protection, and nourishment in order to survive living in this complicated world. Thus, the cord or sash remains, literally, the tie that binds the child to the mother throughout this delicate period, in much the same way as it continues to be used in tethering the child onto the back of the mother for comfort, protection, and affection. In the costume of Egungun it becomes, on the one hand, a signification of the curious bond between the Great Mother (Iya Nla) and her children in the human community. On the other hand, it is the visualization of the mysterious bond existing between the departed ancestors and their living descendants.Within the secular domain, the sash may also function as the head tie, gele, an important part of female adornment for beautification, self-representation, status, and prestige and for individual empowerment (Fig. 2). The expression, “the head wrap is good only when it is fitting” (gele o dun bi ka mo we, ka mowe ko to ko y'eni) epitomizes the skill and dexterity needed by women in arranging the head wrap, as a mark of beauty as well as for individual and female empowerment. Additionally, the head tie may be used to secure a woman's wrapper firmly on the waist whenever it is necessary to engage in a serious, tough, or physically exerting task. Anytime a woman ties her gele on her waist, we know that the atmosphere or temperature has changed. It is either the beginning of a fight or the commencement of a serious matter demanding swift, rapt, and engaged action. In such an instance, a woman's wrapper must not be loose, but must be securely tied to her waist with either the head wrap or the sash. In an apparent reversal of fortune, there might be some commotion in the air. There is either an altercation or trouble brewing in the horizon. Those who are sensitive and socially savvy know this is the appropriate time to simply call it a day by letting go of an argument, issue, or position—and the woman unties her sash. In another dimension, the sash signifies, on the waist of the masked performer, the cooperation and power willingly bequeathed by women to men in the mysterious ritual of worshipping and celebrating the departed ancestors.Metaphorically, the sash is one of the most abiding items of ritual, sacrificed in warding off infant mortality within Yorúbà communities. The intent, in most cases, was to pacify the spirit of the mysterious negative force (ajogun) often conceptualized as one of the mortal enemies of humankind, the “born-to-die” (abiku) syndrome, which continued to plague women in many Yorúbà communities prior to the introduction of modern health care delivery.The efficacious power of sacrificing the sash (oja) goes back to primordial times (Igba Iwase) as recorded in odu Ogbewaate in the following Ifa divination:Based on this divination poetry, Babatunde Lawal concluded that the sash may be a symbol of “the three cardinal blessings: Wealth (ire owo), children (ire omo) and good-health-and-longlife (ire emi gigun; ire Alafia, or ire aiiku, Baale oro), greatly sought by the Yorúbà” (Lawal 1996: 185). Clearly, the sash is a visual articulation of one of the most important ritual items found in the costume of the masked performer. Their abundant display remains a testament to the prayer for the blessings of wealth, good health, and long life sought by their users, which the masked performer generally dispenses with evocative power and authority.Often elaborately decorated with brightly colored fabrics and intricate design patterns on the shoulders of Ogboni chiefs (Fig. 3), the sash (itagbe) is at once a mark of membership and a symbol of honor and respect bequeathed to the great mother Iya Nla, the epitome and personification of sacred power wielded by mother earth, Ile. Use of the sash by members of the Ogboni society, both male and female, goes back to ancient times as recorded in Irosun Ose in the Ifa divination system. With the ability and power of resolving acrimonious disputes, bitterness, barrenness, and hatred in the world, members of the Ogboni society are tasked with the responsibility of installing divine rulers in Yorúbà communities and the itagbe is a symbol of this unique and exclusive power wielded by the society. On the intricate panels of Egungun, the sash invariably comes in multiplicity of designs, shapes, and colors fully reflective of the multidimensional spirit and power of departed ancestors. In the following oriki Ologbin, the precise colors on the costumes of the first Egungun maskers at their inaugural performance included: camwood red (osun), white (efun) and darker shades of green (ewu eje koriko).I now turn to objects with feminized signification in the costume of Egungun and on those of their followers. These items include the ritualized apron, bante, tobi, wabii, or laba. Typically found on the waist of most of the male attendants in the entourage of Egungun are those evocatively powerful skirts and aprons (Fig. 4). They are mostly made with cloth or leather and festooned with empowering substances ranging from medicinal herbs (oogun), beads (ileke), cowrie shells (owoeyo), mirrors (dingi), amuletic power objects encased in fabric or leather (tiira), exotic hides and skins (awoo), feathers (iye), animal bones (eegun), and teeth (eyin eran) as well as forged metal objects (irin/ere). These skirts are an embodiment of power. Regarded as veritable badges of honor and prestige, most of them are heirlooms inherited from departed ancestors who gallantly served in the military campaigns of the nineteenth century. Consequently, the skirts and aprons are the appropriate platforms for the display of powerful oogun long inherited in the family while serving also as testaments of power mirroring their capability and potentials in contemporary society. Yet, within certain ritualized contexts, particularly among the worshippers of Sango (Fig. 5), wearing of skirts spiritually transforms the priests into female-gendered votaries or wives (iyawo) of the oriṣa, which by implication prepares their bodies as spiritual vessels for visitation and possession of the oriṣa. By mounting (gun) the inner spiritual heads (ori inu) of their devotees, the departed makes their presence felt in the human community. Some of the hot temperamental oriṣa, like Sango (deity of thunder and lightning) and Ogun (oriṣa of warfare and creativity) are more favorably disposed towards such female-gendered followers. Therefore, the appropriation of feminine identity within the context of rituals is strategically important for both the worshippers on a personal level and for the community in general. Frankly, Yorúbà pray for an auspicious female-gendered year (odun to yabo), because femaleness is soothing (owo ero) and may be synonymous with fecundity, abundance, and blessings.I now turn to the ritual of consecration of Egungun ensemble in a particular lineage in the Odinjo Quarters of Ibadan. Through these series of events, we are able to examine firsthand the remarkable role that women play in the fascinating tradition and history of Egungun, unlike its public perception and presentation that is seemingly often male oriented and quite possibly male dominated.On June 10, 2010, I arrived at Odinjo Quarters in Ibadan in the company of the head of the masquerade group, Chief Ojetunde Akinleye Asoleke, and his entourage at the home of Madam Ajofoyinbo Fabunmi to consecrate a series of Egungun ensembles in her lineage. We were ushered into a packed gathering of members of her lineage, with about twenty-five people in attendance. Sitting in the middle of the gathering was the matriarch of the family, who appeared to be in her late seventies. Suspended on a nail in one corner of the living room was the object of our mission, an Egungun costume hanging on the wall (Fig. 6). It appeared as if the entire installation had been divided into three parts. The first part was the wooden portion of a mask, a generic image of a human head with clearly articulated features and facial markings further nestled with a black and white sash. The second section had a netted veil, dominated by about ten vertically arranged bands of black and white patterns. The mask portion was framed by red velvet. In the third and final part was a curious arrangement of different colored sashes drooping down the entire installation. The assortment of clothing in the costume was created with both handwoven aso oke fabrics as well as an array of machine-spun imported lace materials. Brightly colored in white, red, and yellow, others had very bold floral design organized in a black and white orientation. At the bottom of this installation was a temporary offering created with two wide-brimmed leaves (Fig. 7). In close proximity to the food offerings were a set of bundled sticks (atori), carefully wrapped with a blackened thread steeped in empowering substances, as well as a bottle of liquor. All these were votive offerings to the spirit of the departed. On the leaves were a few cotyledons of red and white kolanuts (obi), some bitter kola (orogbo), mashed corn portage or pap (eko), as well as bean pudding (moin moin) and a few sprinklings of palm oil (epo pupa). These ritual offerings are certainly not for the living. They represent both metaphoric and spiritual offerings to the spirit of the departed. While it is understood that the departed may not physically consume the food, ants, flies, cats, dogs, and rodents— the elebotiribobo5 tii j'ebo syndrome—do consume the offerings, symbolizing ritual acceptance.Following an exchange of pleasantries, the Alagbaa sought to know from the intermediary and liaison Madam Fabunmi if the ritual soup (obe) was ready. Answering in the affirmative, she promptly brought out a platter (Fig. 8) of carefully diced kolanuts (obi), bitter kola pieces (orogbo), and an incredible amount of alligator pepper (ataare), all subsumed in a pool of gin (oti). She immediately knelt down while presenting the platter to the Alagbaa. The Alagbaa promptly poured libation on the ritual offerings below the masquerade costume while chanting prayers (iwure). In addition, he tossed a handful of the choice ritual items into his mouth followed by a long gulp of the liquor. As soon as he had dispensed with this, he returned the offering plate to Fabunmi. Thereafter, the platter went round the gathering of invited guests and family members. The tray moved from hand to hand, beginning with the oldest members, including the female head of the household. Each individual had to dip their hands into the platter to collect a few of the ritual food offerings, while simultaneously putting the tray to their mouth to take a sip of the potent liquor. In this manner, the entire ritual continued with the occasional singing of the lineage panegyrics and the chanting of the popular Ogboni phrase omu iya dun (“mother's milk is sweet”) and the refrain of ajoo maa mu ni (“we will all partake of it”). Other song lyrics periodically sent out caustic warnings to the uninitiated within the gathering that they may not partake of the ritual, because what was being consumed was, strictly speaking, ritual food only meant for the initiated.A few minutes later, we left this gathering and entered yet another building, just a few feet around the corner, and headed straight into a darkened room with another masquerade costume in the sparsely furnished space. There was singing and occasional dancing. Although the enclosure itself was somewhat dark, the videographer provided immediate illumination. Facing the entrance on the wall was the masquerade ensemble to be ritually activated (Fig. 9). At this stage, the deputy of the Alagbaa took over running the show. With a bottle of gin and some kolanuts in his hands, he began with a long prayer while simultaneously pouring some of the potent liquor on the floor at the foot of the costume installation—a token and offering to the spirit of the departed. He broke the kolanuts to reveal the four cotyledons and recited some pertinent Ifa divination verses. After a few call-and-response sessions, he cast the lobes on the floor. Two of the lobes turned upside down, while the remaining two faced upright. There was instant jubilation, as this was a signal of ritual acceptance. The spirit of the ancestors had indicated that the ritual of consecration was accepted and that the costume was ready for public outing in a parade and celebration around the community. The oldest woman in the gathering then began chanting:The very act of invoking the presence of the departed by acknowledging and honoring them in the chanted oriki symbolically confers legitimacy and potent power to the ritualized power objects. Thus, the ritual both literally and metaphorically empowers the Egungun ensemble for its ultimate presentation and public performance throughout the city. Without acknowledging the ancestors in the rites of consecration, the entire ceremony would have been a meaningless and worthless activity, because undoubtedly, Egungun is a celebration of the spirits of the departed. Here the elderly woman began by paying respects to her mother, Ajibola Ajisomo, as well as her father and husband, whose names she did not mention. Thereafter, she invoked the spiritual powers implicit in certain body parts, including the leg—which struts around carrying us to many places in our journeys throughout life—based on the continuous efficacy, usefulness, and power of the legs to sustain us throughout life. We see a parallel here between the invocation to the leg and the popular Yorúbà prayer for longevity: atepe l'ese nte'na (“may the legs walk on the roads for a very long time”). Thereafter, she mentioned the breast, an intrinsic element of the female physique that sustains and nurtures all. By invoking the breast, we are reminded that, as children, we all obtained nourishment from our mothers, and metaphorically it represents the tethers that connect children of the same mother and members of the same lineage together. In addition, it is the same metaphoric connection that members of the Ogboni society are reminded of in their greetings, which represent a sacred bond that unites them, having been metaphorically fed from the same mother's breast milk. Further, the oriki mentioned the toes and the sole of the feet as important elements of our unique identities as humans with the ability to move around without hindrance in our quest for long life and good health.Soon thereafter, we departed. Our third and final stop was at the consulting room of the deputy of the Alagbaa. Here, a few family members had gathered in readiness for the ceremony. Hung on the wall on the left side in the consulting room was the costume to be consecrated (Fig. 10). This ensemble also could visually be divided into three. Unlike the first two stops on our visit, this costume had no mask component. Entirely dominated by fabrics, the first part had a netted portion with horizontally articulated bands of brown, white, and black. The second and third sections had very distinct indigo-patterned adire eleko fabrics as well as imported prestige velvet cloth in red with elaborate floral designs in white. Other aspects of the ensemble had distinct blue circular floral patterns. On the edges of the adire eleko and velvet were brightly colored yellow fabrics created as fringes in zigzag patterns, not only to demarcate each of the segments but also to make them more distinct and visually arresting. Underneath the adire and red velvet cloak, one could discern the outline of the leg portion of the costume in predominantly red handwoven aso ofi in closely packed, vertically oriented green lines.The final part of the installation had some ritual offerings on the floor (Fig. 11). There were two sets of offerings there. One set was on an earthenware bowl and another on freshly harvested leaves. The offerings were almost identical to the others we had encountered on our first two stops.After dispensing with the consecration rituals, the celebrants asked the Alagbaa to intervene in a controversy involving an animosity between two factions within the family. On the surface, this was a seemingly trivial matter over matters of seniority. Unresolved, the issue could potentially undermine the public parade and performance of their masquerade, while simultaneously destroying family unity. The Alagbaa as custodian of the tradition of Egungun was duty bound to resolve the matter for each of the members in the family. While struggling to keep his eyes open after a demanding and rigorous night vigil, in addition to imbibing a generous amount of liquor at the previous stops, the Alagbaa carefully pacified each of the errant parties in the name and spirit of the ancestors. At the end of the long sessions, we departed from this intriguing gathering.Our attention now turns to other seemingly innocuous roles that women play during Egungun festival to highlight the supportive contribution of women in the annual celebrations. Amid the intense heat of a midsummer morning on June 11, 2010, women gathered to prepare tasty and delicious meals in the household of Chief Ojetunde Akinleye Asoleke. In addition to sundry tasks that women carry out during the course of the festival, there is none as demanding as the preparation of food. Women married into the household have the unusual burden of preparing food for all the guests in addition to the legion of members of the extended family. This is an unusually complicated task involving skill, patience, creativity, and a spirit of collaboration. Each day of the festival, the most senior wife gathers the other cowives together in a meeting, delegating tasks to be accomplished during the day. Some of them go on last-minute errands to the market to procure materials not previously purchased. Others fetch water. A few others gather firewood. Some put final touches to the condiments used in the preparation of the major meals of the day.It was indeed a beehive of activities. First was the slaughtering of the animals—goats and chickens—usually carried out by the men. Then, the women cleaned, marinated, and cooked the meat, while some tended to the flaming fire billowing with smoke from the hearthstones. A few cleaned the recently delivered vegetables. Others got palm-oil and bags of yam flour ready for the long and arduous tasks of preparing the meals. All these tasks were carried out in the open, in the full glare of visitors and neighbors alike, amid the cacophony of the drumming and the never-ceasing flow of visitors dropping by to pay their respects to the Alagbaa and members of his household. It was this never-ebbing stream of visitors that would ultimately be fed.In the space of about forty-five minutes an entire goat was cooked. While some choice pieces of the meat were fried in hot palm oil, the entrails of the animal were already bubbling in the hot pepper and tomato sauce on the fire. Presently the women poured in a combination of melon seeds, salt, and palm oil. A few minutes later, the entire sauce was thickened with the addition of carefully diced leafy green vegetables and an assortment of other condiments, including smoked shrimp, bouillon cubes, salt, and locust beans. On another set of hearthsto