“Why do you think respect is such a fundamental part of Yoruba culture, especially when it pertains to one’s elders?”

Back in May, I rang up as many Yoruba people as I could think of, who had spent the majority of their formative and adolescent years (0-16 years old) in Nigeria, and asked them this question. And I have to tell you, the responses I got were fascinating.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me set the scene.

Earlier this year, I was trying to draft a blog post about my experience in employment. I was going to reflect on the way I conducted myself in this new environment. In particular, I wanted to talk about the influence that the Nigerian (more specifically Yoruba) culture of respect had on the way I interacted with those in authority. I was going to discuss its benefits, but also delve into how some aspects of it messed me up slightly.

 

What is Yoruba respect?

Before I continue, I should probably take a brief moment to explain what I mean by Yoruba respect culture.

The Yoruba people are one of the many tribes that can be found in the nation of Nigeria. While Nigeria, as a collective, has a shared culture and common beliefs, each tribe also has its own traditions.

As is the case for many cultures across the world, the idea of respect and being respectful is deeply rooted in Yoruba tradition. It is seen in all aspects of life, from greetings, to conduct, to the formation of language.

While it is generally believed that everyone should be respected, there are three groups of people that are entitled to special displays of respect: the wealthy, those of high social status, and one’s elders. In my opinion, the most important of these are the elders.

Depending on who you ask, what is defined as an elder may vary, but I think it is widely accepted that anyone who is at least 3-4 years older than you can be considered your elder.

There are many customs and traditions attributed to the idea of being respectful (especially towards elders), here are a few of them:

• You never refer to them by their first names – use ‘Ma’, ‘Sir’, ‘Mr(s)’, ‘Aunty’, ‘Uncle’ etc. or professional titles (Dr, Prof…)
• You bow, curtsy, kneel or prostrate when you greet them (in some more extreme displays one drops to the ground and lies flat on their stomach)
• You don’t make eye contact
• You never give them things with your left hand (a lesson that I, as a left-handed child, had to learn the hard way on my first trip back to Nigeria.)
• You do not talk back to an elder
• When speaking in the Yoruba language, you make use of the honorific ‘ẹ’ vowel instead of the ‘o’ vowel

When growing up my sister (who is 4 years my junior) was often told,

“You know, if you were in Nigeria, you wouldn’t be referring to Ife by her first name. You would be calling her ‘Sister Ife’ and having to kneel when you greet her.”

In addition to these practices, there is the general rhetoric that elders never lie nor is there any obligation for them to apologise to younger people. I also believe that respect can often be equated to submission, which can be very susceptible to abuse.

That being said, like with all things, there are many nuances and not every rule applies all the time. Different families and communities uphold the traditions to differing degrees (especially when living overseas).

Hopefully, you now have a glimpse as to what I mean when I refer to Yoruba respect culture. I am well aware that a lot of these behaviours are not unique to the Yoruba people, several tribes and nations across the globe share commonalities. However, I am focusing my lens on Yorubas, because that was (and still is) the culture that I personally experienced.

 

Okay, back to my story.

I was writing a blog post and had drawn the conclusion that my ideas around respect, especially in relation to my elders (which I also mentally equate to authority figures), had both a lasting positive and negative impact on my present conduct. So, I sought to investigate it more.

Initially, I was scouring the internet for articles on the topic, trying to get more background on the culture and how it came to be. But then it dawned on me.

“Ife, you are Yoruba. Guess what that means? Nearly all your relatives and a lot of your family friends are Yoruba too. Cut out the middle man, pick up your phone and just ask people about it.”

So, that’s what I did.

I wanted to limit the influence of other cultures on the perspectives I got, so I called everyone I could think of, who had spent most of their childhood and adolescents in Nigeria and asked them,

“Why do you think respect is such a fundamental part of Yoruba culture, especially when it pertains to one’s elders?”

Guess what my most common reply was?

…

“I don’t know, it’s just who we are.”

…

Slightly disappointing, but not wholly unexpected. I was probing at their cultural and, in turn, personal identities. Value systems on which they had grown up. They’re social norms, that which is taken to simply be a fact of life.

It would be like me asking Britons why they think tea drinking is so prolific in their country. It’s part of what makes the nation who they are, not many seek to give it much thought.

However, after people got over the initial shock of the question and gave it further reflection, I came across a heap of fascinating information and insights. The issue was, I had no idea what to do with them… until now.

After forcing myself to finally put my thoughts together, I have created a little series of posts taking you through some of the things I found out. These will be released in the upcoming weeks.

The first one is on what I discovered about the origins of the respect culture. The second looks more into how it’s changed and questions whether Nigeria is seeing the emergence of a ‘disrespectful generation’. In the final post I will share a Yoruba proverb that came up frequently during the inquiry and draw the series to a close.

This whole investigation came about completely accidentally; that initial blog post I was working on will probably never see the light of day. However, I have had a lot of fun diving into this all. My hope is that you can glean something useful from it too.

Just one final note to any Aunties and Uncles who may be reading this; please don’t come after me, I promise, I mean no disrespect.