THE NEW JALUMI: A Clarion Call to the Obas of Oke-Ogun and the Conscience of Yorubaland

By David Alani Ige

July 22, 2026

            

      

The crown of an Oba is not merely a piece of beaded jewelry; it is the spiritual, historical, and existential compass of the Yoruba people. Yet, as our communities in Oke-Ogun, Oyo State, and across the vast expanse of Yorubaland face an unprecedented siege, we must ask a painful but necessary question: Has the modern throne become merely a monument to history, or is it still an active participant in shaping our survival?

Recently, while reflecting on the intersection of the traditional institution and modern politics, I concluded on one undeniable truth: an Oba must never descend into the arena of partisan politics. The Oba is a citizen, yes. He has opinions and he votes. But the throne belongs to everybody. The palace must remain a sanctuary where supporters of opposing political factions can sit together in peace. Once a king becomes identified with a political faction, he risks turning his own subjects into opponents. Political victories are fleeting; governors and presidents come and go. The throne is designed to outlive them all. 

But outliving politicians is not enough. The throne must ensure that the 'people' outlive the dangers of their time. 

The Jalumi of Our Time

In Yoruba history, the Jalumi War was fought to halt a fierce external threat to Yoruba existence. Today’s threat is entirely different. The invaders of our time do not come with imperial cavalry; they come on motorcycles. They do not fight pitched battles; they come as kidnappers, bandits, and marauders slipping into the thick forests of Oke-Ogun and beyond. 

Yet, the core challenge remains exactly the same: Can Yoruba institutions still mobilize society in moments of existential danger?

The modern Oba’s battlefield is no longer the theatre of war. The Constitution has taken away the sword, but it has not taken away the voice. It has not taken away the profound legitimacy of the crown. The battlefield today is the frontier of ideas, organization, intelligence gathering, and community resilience. 

                

Olaju: Navigating Modernity Without Losing Our Soul

The great challenge facing our traditional institutions is what the renowned scholar J. D. Y. Peel called 'Olaju'—modernity or enlightenment. The danger of our era is not technology; the danger is forgetting who we are. As the elders say: "Odò tí ó bá gbàgbé orísun rẹ̀, yóò gbẹ" (A river that forgets its source will dry up). 

The future will not belong to societies imprisoned by blind tradition, nor will it belong to societies ashamed of their heritage. It will belong to those wise enough to carry old crowns into new worlds. We cannot fight today’s AK-47 warfare with yesterday’s amulets alone. A Yorubaland that will survive the present existential threats must learn to hunt today’s hare with today’s hound. The wisdom of our ancestors remains invaluable, but the ancestors themselves taught adaptation. After all, a river that refuses to bend to the landscape never reaches the sea.

From Ceremonial Spectators to Chief Strategists

In a striking intervention from the North, the Emir of Argungu recently urged district and village heads in Kebbi State to organize active community responses to banditry. He asked his people to match arms with arms, and to cure madness with madness. His underlying point was profound: criminals thrive only where communities are vulnerable, fragmented, and fearful.

Whether one agrees entirely with the Emir’s prescription of matching madness with madness is beside the point. The larger, undeniable lesson is this: a traditional ruler cannot afford to be a ceremonial spectator while his people live under siege. 

To the revered monarchs of Oke-Ogun and Oyo State: you must think. You must strategize. You must convene. You must use the moral authority of your thrones to organize society against danger. The Oba must be the community’s chief thinker, chief strategist, and chief mobilizer. You have the capacity to bring hunters, farmers, traders, youth leaders, religious authorities, and security agencies to one table. Jalumi was won not merely because brave men fought; it was won because leaders recognized a threat and mobilized society to confront it. 

A Warning to Abuja: The Alaafin Aole Test

Finally, we must turn our gaze to the modern state. If the President has inherited the executive powers the Oba once wielded, he must also inherit the sacred obligation that came with those powers. 

The first duty of government is security. Everything else is secondary. Roads, bridges, rail lines, and airports are useful only when citizens are alive and free to use them. History ultimately judges rulers not by the grandeur of their concrete projects, but by the safety of their people. 

If the old Oba was measured by the peace of his kingdom, the modern President cannot escape the same test. In a season of fear, protection is the highest form of leadership. The leader who secures his people earns their eternal gratitude. The one who fails will be remembered like Alaafin Aole, under whose tragic reign Yorubaland became an empire of refugees.

Every generation has its own Jalumi. The weapons change, the battlefield changes, and the enemy changes. But the need for leadership never does. The future of Oke-Ogun and Yorubaland cannot afford a sleeping throne.

David Alani Ige

Publisher/ Editor-in-Chief, Ayekooto Media

Phunshor01@gmail.com | publisher@ayekootomediang.com

Archiving Nigeria’s Political Realities and Unvarnished Truths.