Shola Akinyele
In a moment soaked in history and divine timing, a new chapter opened in the royal scrolls of Yorubaland. Beneath the gaze of ancestors, flanked by dignitaries, traditional rulers, and the beating heart of his people, His Imperial Majesty, Ikú Bàbá Yèyé, Ọba Abímbọ́lá Akeem Ọ̀wọ̀adé I, was crowned the 46th Alaafin of Ọ̀yọ́ — custodian of a throne that has stood for centuries as a symbol of power, culture, and resistance.
But this wasn’t just another coronation. It was a call from destiny itself.
“I was sleeping in Canada when destiny called,” the new Alaafin shared, in words that have since echoed across borders and timelines. A sentence that captures both the mystery and majesty of kingship in Africa — where bloodlines, prophecy, and tradition weave together across continents to awaken chosen men from their dreams and thrust them into destiny.
The coronation, held on April 5, 2025, was a grand orchestration of Yoruba royalty — drums thundered, ancestral chants rose, and the kingdom rejoiced.
The following day, at St. Michael Anglican Church, Esinle, Oyo, a Thanksgiving Service brought both spiritual reverence and cultural pride into sacred alignment, as the new monarch knelt before God with the weight of his crown and the prayers of his people.
Royal guests from across Nigeria graced the occasion, most notably His Majesty Ògíamẹ̀ Atuwatse III, CFR, Olu of Warri, whose presence signified unity across kingdoms.
He honoured the Alaafin’s installation as “a profound moment in Yoruba history, which the Itsekiri people proudly celebrate as part of our shared legacy.”
Though history remembers debates — of who came first, of who reigns highest — the thrones of West Africa stand unique and indivisible in their greatness.
While the Ooni of Ife is often regarded as the spiritual father of kings, and the Oba of Benin holds an ancient legacy of empire, the Alaafin of Oyo remains the fierce embodiment of warrior royalty — a symbol of the indomitable Yoruba spirit.
In the midst of celebration, a quiet revelation spread among the people: in Oyo tradition, the king’s wife is not called “Olori,” but “Aya’ba.” It’s more than semantics — it’s heritage. Every syllable preserving the soul of an empire.
And now, with the Alaafin’s vow to rebuild the 200-year-old Oyo palace, a commitment has been made not only to restore the stones of history, but to preserve the heart of a people. The reconstruction will not just be physical — it will be spiritual, cultural, generational.
For many, the images flooding social media — of royal processions, of glowing beads and gilded crowns — are just snapshots. But for the Oyo people, and for millions of Yoruba across the world, they are evidence that the kingdom lives. That legacy breathes. That the Alaafin’s stool, though ancient, still commands reverence across the continent.
Ọba Ọ̀wọ̀adé I do not just inherit a title. He inherits a kingdom’s memory — and the duty to protect its future.
WhatsApp us