Bunny

They Nigerianized Egusi and then turned around to say, “Yoruba don’t have soup.” They Nigerianized Akara and Moin-Moin, only to claim, “It’s not Yoruba food.” They embraced Gele, then argued, “Gele isn’t Yoruba it’s only Aso Oke.” They love Aso Ebi, yet they changed it by calling it “Asebi”, or say, “Lace isn’t part of Yoruba civilization.” They adopt Yoruba-style parties, then label them generically as “Nigerian parties.” If you simply gave credit to the Yoruba origins of these foods and fashion styles, would it kill you? What have the Yoruba done to deserve this constant erasure and belittling? Why is there such eagerness to reduce us to your level, rather than rise to appreciate the culture that shaped so much of what you now claim?

Ṣẹkẹrẹ kì í lọ sí odè ìgbànújẹ́. The Ṣẹkẹrẹ does not go to the ceremony of sorrow. That's what the elders say. For centuries, this beaded gourd has been the sound of Yoruba joy, from palace courtyards to village squares. Wherever it shakes, celebration follows.

Brymo has always moved like someone who knows something the rest of us are still trying to figure out. From the moment he stepped away from Chocolate City at the height of his commercial peak, he made it clear: he wasn't chasing what everyone else was chasing. While others ran toward the spotlight, he walked toward something harder to define, truth, maybe. Or at least his version of it. His voice has always been the most arresting thing about him. Not just the instrument itself, that high, piercing, almost fragile tenor, but what he chooses to do with it. On albums like Tabula Rasa, Klitoris, and The Son of a Kapenta, he stripped Nigerian music down to something raw, something uncomfortable, something that refused to be easily categorized. He wasn't making Afrobeats. He was making Brymo. And that's exactly why the industry never quite knew what to do with him. He has been called difficult. Arrogant. Uncompromising. Maybe all of that is true. But maybe what they meant was: he wouldn't bend. He wouldn't make the music they wanted him to make. He wouldn't stay quiet when silence was the safer choice. He wouldn't smile when he had nothing to smile about. The controversies followed. The beefs. The statements that made people wince. The opinions that cost him opportunities. But even at his most polarizing, there was always something underneath, a man who seemed to believe that an artist's job is not to make people comfortable, but to make them feel something. Anything. Even anger. Even discomfort. In a generation of artists carefully curating their image, Brymo chose to be exposed. Raw nerve. Open wound. Sometimes brilliant. Sometimes frustrating. Never indifferent. The music, though. The music has always been undeniable. When you listen to "Ara," you hear someone wrestling with identity in a country that keeps asking you to choose. When you hear "O Son of a Kapenta," you hear a man excavating his roots, his father, his history, pulling it all into the light. When you hear “Oṣó,” you hear heartbreak in a language that doesn't need translation because grief sounds the same everywhere. He has been called a cult artist. Not mainstream enough for the radio, but too essential to ignore. A name that true heads whisper with a kind of reverence. The artist's artist. The one your favorite musician listens to when no one is watching. But maybe that's exactly where he wanted to be all along. Because Brymo never seemed interested in being everywhere. He wanted to be somewhere, deep, permanent, unforgettable. And he is. Years from now, when we tell the story of Nigerian music in this era, we will talk about the superstars. The stadium fillers. The global ambassadors. But we will also talk about the ones who refused to be anything but themselves. The ones who made music that asked something of you. The ones who left you changed. Brymo is on that list. Not because he was easy to love. But because he was impossible to forget. #Cityboy #Brymo

And mentioning the sage should double the likes.

Yoruba Culture allows women to be kings. Yoruba Mythology believes that women are the custodian of the Earth's basin. Yoruba Mythology believes that women were first given authority before they shared it with men. Women in Yorubaland are kings, not just queens.

Ẹyin ọmọ Ibadan dá? The city of Warriors and Warlords Ogun ó kó wá rí.. Ibadan Cultural Festival 2026

Knowing how to perfectly set this for blue fire flame was a part of good home training 😀🤭 Once upon a time.

Aregbe messed up big time.

Don't blame him too much. Yorubas themselves are always at the frontline of any battle dragging their own.

Verified or not, retweet and plug any of your tweets that need engagement, I’ll like and repost for you.

@DeborahKem16343 @adewumi_oke Thank you

@adewumi_oke @SameAsake

Am I the only one that is tired of these lazy generalizations? Yoruba culture is not against women, it uplifts them, gives them authority, and treats them with respect. In marriage, men are expected to care for their wives. Among siblings, the eldest daughter often carries the family’s leadership. In society, women plan everything and their voices are listened to. In traditional religion, the “awọn Iya” are women you cannot cross, wielding influence that demands respect. Even in business, trade, and social gatherings, women hold power, make decisions, and shape outcomes. Yoruba women are not just participants, they are leaders, planners, and pillars of the culture. Generalizations like this are lazy, wrong, and disrespectful.

@Tosquo Balance equation left and right

@SameAsake YORUBA is far ahead 🔥❤️

@Freeman2gud @MilesHopkins15 As it should be

@SameAsake @MilesHopkins15 My elder sister is literally the head of our family. Every decisions passes thru her as the eldest child & she's really up to the task. She's an Amazon!

If Yoruba decides to take credit for everything, nothing will remain for the rest of Nigerian tribes because this slang here is a Yoruba translated words.

Obidense know the truth, Alex is just an Igbo project to them.

🇳🇬💥 SOWORE DECLARES: "Alex Otti Is a Failure! I Don’t Believe in Half Transformation — Abia Deserves More!"

@olu_g777 Pele o, real religious extremist.

@SameAsake Yinka Ayefele is just like all these "FAKE" Yoruba religious musicians. They sings BS all in the name of liberal & tolerance. Its complete nonsense

I'm just coming across this video, and I have to drop my take without mincing words. The truth and fact is that Yoruba and Igbo mix cannot work, just as much as Yoruba and Fulani mix has failed. These are the tribes with radical and extreme views, and they will stop at nothing until they destroy our land with their views. Yoruba identity is not primarily tied to religion; we are too blessed to erase our identity for foreign religion, and we are too educated to cast out our brothers for their choice of religion. We must continue to ensure that this is maintained. If you marry any of these listed tribes, be very careful with your children. Yoruba society will never accept strange ideology and culture; we would rather be advancing than in retrogression. If you see something, say something! We must protect our heritage at all costs.

@OB_Commentary @Autarkeia_ A bold bigot

@SameAsake @Autarkeia_ He’s the kind of person we should never allow to have a voice in our society. This kind of person only care about his religion and ideology, nothing makes sense to him after. He’s a bigot.

@Schlawgalag We are Yoruba first.

@SameAsake If you like wage war over religion just keep that out of Yoruba land you religious fanatics when ibos invite masquerade to church events everywhere is quiet

@Strydizzle They want to import that mentality here. It won't work.

@SameAsake Little wonder why they detest Muslims from their tribe. The kind of hatred and foul words coming from their mouth towards anyone from their tribe practicing Islam would leave you speechless. If they have their way they will wipe them all and still justify such heinous act