Part 1: On humility, self-control, self-knowledge, self-respect, and self-restraint

Odot

A stew does not slush around once inside an elder.

The filthy person takes advantage of her husband's death for blame; she says since her husband died she has not violated her person with water.

My child's name is Ọ̀gàǹgà; don't you call my child Ògòǹgò any more! Which of the two is a good name.

The poisonous cassava has no attraction; it resembles a yam only in vain.

The day an elder dies is far better than the day an elder is disgraced.

Only one day brings disgrace to a person; the shame is felt every day.

It takes one day only for one to disgrace oneself; the shame is a daily affair.

In all the days the crab has been making oil, it has not filled a pot.

“In all the days I have walked this earth I have never seen the like”: that person knows his place.

It is an avaricious elder that turns himself into a child.

It is an insatiable chief of the masqueraders cult that stands on tiptoes to watch a performing masquerader.

A man does not cry; hardwood does not ooze sap.

No wise man ever ties water in a knot in his cloth; no knowledgeable person can tell the number of grains of sand on the earth.

The wise person does not consult the Ifá oracle for himself; the knowledgeable person does not install himself a chief; the sharp knife does not carve its own handle.

A child new to eating stews: he shows himself by dripping palm-oil on his chest.

The owner of the earth treads gently on it.

The prince of Ọ̀na Ìṣokùn is sharing out snake meat with his teeth, and another prince says he does not eat such a thing; where did that prince come from?

A child rests his hand on the earth and claims it is as big as a monkey “read chimpanzee”; even if the child is as big as a monkey, is its chest as big as the monkey's?

A child has three cowries in hand and challenges Èṣù to a game played for money; will three solitary cowries suffice for Èṣù to purchase palm-oil to lick?

The drunkard ignores his misery; the ill-fated person forgets tomorrow.

The throat cannot accommodate fish-bone.

Problems make hardly any impression on the foal of a horse; its mother is tied down but it grazes nonchalantly about.

Speech like drunken babble does not befit a venerable person.

Speech is not pleasant in the mouth of the mother of a thief.

What sort of speech can there be in the mouth of the person whose clothes are brown from dirt?

The sun rises and you do not eat corn meal; the sun moves directly overhead and you do not eat yam-flour meal; a visitor arrives for you when the sun is just past the overhead position and you have nothing to entertain him with; and you ask, “Am I not in danger of being disgraced in his eyes”? Aren't you already disgraced in your own eyes? Never mind whether you may be disgraced in others' eyes or not.

The fish-eagle cannot catch the kite flying on high; it can only catch Bamidele.

One never looks good in other people's finery; borrowed trousers do not fit the borrower.

Idle hands are the ones obliged to remove grass specks from their in-law's eyes.

Honor is always bought dear, filthiness cheap, and idleness at an indifferent price.

It is a reckless home owner who is met with alarms when he ventures outside.

86. Èṣù is the unpredictable god in the Yorùbà pantheon, his favorite food is palm-oil.  [Back to text]

87. Bámidélé is a male name. The proverb is probably based on the play between ọ̀ṣín, the name for the vulturine fish-eagle, and Ọṣìn, a male name that is sometimes used as a designation for a king. Bámidélé (which means “Come home with me”) indicates that the possible prey is one that is readily at hand.  [Back to text]