Part 2: On perspicaciousness (good judgment, perceptiveness), reasonableness, sagacity, savoir-faire, wisdom, and worldly wisdom

Odot

The knife is destroying its own home, it says it is ruining the sheath.

The sort of stew the man of the house will not eat, the woman of the house should not cook.

An idiot child that plays with ìdò flowers.

The porch does not accommodate standing people; only the shade of the (ọdán) banyan tree does.

The tree-bear wins renown with its voice.

The cunning of the person who skimps on the measure of her corn meal is not as great as that of the would-be purchaser who refuses to buy.

Wisdom is a good thing to have; knowledge is a good thing to have.

Wisdom is greater than strength.

Wisdom is never used up.

One needs wisdom to live in this world.

It is cunning that the dog employs in order to sacrifice a wolf to Ifá.

Cunning wins battles; knowledge defeats plots.

One learns wisdom from other people's wisdom one person's knowledge does not amount to anything.

Other people's wisdom saves the elder from being called a lunatic.

The cunning that the tortoise has will always rank behind that of the snail.

The same cunning with which the toad killed the buffalo will show it how to eat the prey.

It is with cunning that a grown man runs away from a bull.

It is on a playful occasion that one argues about matters.

The day the drum begins to beat the drummer is the day he should seek another employment.

The day the person who did the hiring makes a sacrifice is the day the hired hand eats and drinks.

The squirrel weeps for want of a stately garment; the garment the àjàò bird made last year, what did it do with it? Was it not tree climbing it used the garment for?

It is other people's hoe that one uses to clear a mound of rubbish.

One at a time is how one extricates one's feet from a mire.

One at a time is how one removes one's legs from a masquerade costume.

An easy-going man's gentle mien hides a strong disposition.

If the grindstone did not move, how did it get to Ìbarà? Is Ìbarà the home of grindstones?

The wise person grabs a fish by the head; the fool grabs it by the tail fin.

The wise person bites one like a mosquito; the mad person bites one like a gadfly.

Only a wise person can decipher the meaning of speech.

The cunning man is watching a hole, and the knowledgeable person is standing by him; the cunning man exclaims, “Ha, it has sprung out!” The knowledgeable person responds, “Ha, I have grabbed it!” The cunning person asks, “What did you grab?” The knowledgeable person asks in turn, “What did you say sprang out?”

The wise child will inherit glory; the idiot child will bring shame home with him.

A wise child gladdens the heart of his father; an imbecile of a child saddens the heart of his mother.

The owner of the market never wishes the market to be disrupted.

The wine seller never realizes that his child is a thief.

Ọlọ́tọ̀ says his ways are different; his mother dies at home and he takes her to the farm for burial.

The child of a cripple who bought shoes for his father is asking for a stern lecture.

One's child may be beautiful, but one cannot make her one's wife.

Other people's children are not like one's own; when one's child eats pounded yams, other people's children will eat corn meal loaf.

One does not, after one's child defecates, wipe the child's anus with the abrasive elephant grass.

It is the child of fire that one sends on an errand to fire.

“My child did not have enough to eat,” we understand; “My child had enough to eat but had no snuff to snort,” that we do not understand.

A fatherless child should not engage in an unjust fight.

A small child does not know what war is like, hence, he says that war should break out, for when it does he will go hide in his mother's room.

A small child never knows when kúròkúrò takes its leave.

A child does not know so much history and know so much hearsay that it knows the day of its creation.

A child is never so careful about eating corn meal that it does not smear the meal on its mouth.

A child does not have fire at home and therefore escape being burned by the fire abroad.

A child knows snuff, but does not know how to grind and turn the tobacco.

A child says that people do eat vultures, and its father says people do not; the child says someone did eat a vulture in its presence; its father asks, who? The child says the person is dead.

A child does not recognize a vegetable and calls it medicine.

A child does not know medicine and he therefore calls it vegetables; it does not recognize it as what killed its father.

A child does not know medicine and says it is a thorn.

Child, keep your eyes on me; one keeps one's eyes on the person who takes one visiting.

Only a sage knows the pregnancy of a snail.

It is a small walking-stick that goes before the person who walks a path overhung with foliage that is wet with morning dew.

Gratitude is what befits the slave.

A person who is like the divining string: unless you throw him down he will not talk sense.

The toad tells the snake to follow it, for it does not fight except by the roadside.

The toad boasts that it knows how to string beads; who, though, would put a toad's beads around his child's waist?

The toad struts nonchalantly before the person cooking ẹ̀gúsí stew; the person cooking the ẹ̀gúsí stew will never add it to the ingredients.

The toad does not know the way to the stream and turns matters into a jest.

It is a deluge that chases the eégún masquerader indoors indefinitely.

One problem serves as the basis for a law that will apply to another case.

From other people's problems one learns wisdom.

A matter that is unpalatable hardens the eyes.

A problem is not so formidable that one attacks it with a knife; one tackles it with the mouth.

Words are the things with which to savor the delicious broth of words.

Discourse says it has no home; people engage in it wherever they please.

Good talk brings the kola-nut out of the pouch; provocative talk draws the arrow out of th quiver.

Whatever a wiseman says will be heard repeated by the nitwit.

A problem that is too complicated to resolve becomes the sole responsibility of the person concerned; the world leaves him/her to his/her devices.

The bow-string is taut while it remains on the bow; dipped into the river it becomes very soft indeed.

It is not yet noon time in heaven; whoever is anxious to get there may go ahead by himself/herself.

It is in the hands of an imbecile that one finds a severed arm.

The regard one has for the knob is the one with which one clothes the tree; the regard one has for the gods is the same that one invests the albino with.

105. The play is on the syllable lọ (which means “to go”) in the word ọlọ, grindstone.  [Back to text]

106. The wine seller leaves his child in charge, and does not realize that he has been cutting it with water.  [Back to text]

107. Ọlọ́tọ̀ means “One who is different.”  [Back to text]

108. The assumption, of course, is that the mother has charge of her own children and others'.  [Back to text]

109. “Kúrò” means “leave,” or “depart.” Kúrò-kúrò,” in accordance with Yorùbá word formation would thus mean “one who departs.” The idea here is that the child does not know the right time to leave a place.  [Back to text]

110. The phrase kò sí in Yoruba means “there is none” or “there is not . . .,” and when attached predicatively to a person it is a euphemism that the person is dead. In this case the statement that the person died does double duty in that it also literally supports the father's assertion.  [Back to text]

111. Oògun may refer to medicine or to charms. Much of Yoruba medicine is herbal; one can imagine a child who sees only thorns where a person knowledgeable about herbs would see a potent source of medicine.  [Back to text]

112. Ọ̀pẹ̀lẹ̀ is the string the Ifá priest (babaláwo) divines with; it is cast on the ground, and the pattern of the nuts strung on it read.  [Back to text]

113. Noon time is considered the proper time after which one may pay a visit.  [Back to text]

114. The knob is the toughest part of any tree. The albino, like other so-called afflicted people, is a special ward of the gods.  [Back to text]