Performative agency and transition in A ̀ la ̀ bí Ògúndépò ’ s ìja ́ la ́ and Ye ˙ mí Ẹ lé ˙ buìbo ˙ n ’ s Ifa ́ chants

Indigenous Yorùba ́ poetry is often defined by such features as context, structure, tonal quality and the performer ’ s identity. Early taxonomy of the poetry focused on the poetics that could be deduced from a long tradition of practice. Recent scholarship in literary and cultural studies has been more interested in showing the ways in which the poetry is being inflected by encounters with postcolonial modernity. While these recent contributions demonstrate how new forms, such as ewì , distil expressive nuances from the older forms and invent new performative practices to address new publics, such studies encourage a generalization that credits to the new forms all the modern advances recorded in the indigenous forms themselves. Looking at specific indigenous forms in terms of how postcolonial modernity has reshaped them, rather than considering them another set of additions to a new generic category, allows us a clearer view of their transition. I track the inventions and changes in the practice of two Yorùba ́ forms, ìja ́ la ́ and Ifa ́ chants, using the performances of A ̀ la ̀ bí Ògúndépò and Ye ̣ mí Ẹ lé ̣ buìbo ̣ n. I rely on ethnographic data to show how mutating audiences and electronic storage and retrieval systems have continually shaped composition and performance, discuss the imperatives of modernity and economy in the performative choices of the artists, and show how the performers simultaneously manage their resistance to and adoption of the modern.


Introduction
Indigenous Yorùbápoetry is sometimes defined by such features as contexts, structure and tonality.Much of the taxonomy attempted in the early scholarship on the genre, especially in Yorùbástudies, is therefore safely drawn from observable constants that are sanctioned by long practice and which performers hardly dare to upset.Three poetic forms were given prominence in those early attempts at classification: ìjaĺá (Babalola 1966), ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ (a form of Ifápoetry) (Ọ latúnjí 1972), and ẹ̀ saò r iwì (Olajubu 1974).There are many other poetic traditions not so robustly written about, such as rara, an areligious genre focused on favourable profiling of its referents by deploying oríkì and other panegyrics (Babalola 1973), and ẹ kún ìyaẁo, a short bridal lament found among the Oyo Yorùba.All the early studies on the three forms base their classification on observable generic denominators such as context of performance, vocalization, performers and thematic content.Babalola associates ìjaĺaẃ ith the worship of Yorùbádivinity Ògún, and notes that naturally therefore, 'hunters predominate among the worshippers of the god Ògún' (Babalola 1966: 3).Writings on the other two forms have also pointed out that the latter were ab initio defined by religion and profession; ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ 'is a form which is peculiar to devotees of ọ̀ rúnmìla, the Yorùbágod of divination system' and 'Ifáherbalist-diviners, known as babalaẃo and their followers' (Ọ latúnjí 1972: 69), while ẹ̀ sa, also called iwì, is 'chanted exclusively by members of the Egúngún [ancestor veneration] cult' (Olajubu 1974: 31) and onídań performers, 'who go about in groups of six or eight with their children and wives and a troupe of drummers who are usually permanently attached to the group' (ibid.: 32).
More recent scholarship, mainly in literature and cultural studies, is united by a focus on the ways in which modernity has inflected the context and shape of performance of the poetry.Ewì, a very popular new form distilled from various indigenous poetic sources and of which these recent studies seem enamoured, is considered to sit astride the indigenous and the modern.Rita Nnodim calls it 'a semioral semi-written genre of poetic expression that oscillates between the written and the oral ' (2006: 155), and, according to Akin Adesokan, it is 'Yorùbápoetry composed in print and recited over an orchestra of percussive, folk, or authored music, with or without sung sequences ' (2017: 2).What Nnodim deems most fascinating is that ewì has convened a new pan-Yorùbáaudience that is larger than what was ever thought possible with previous indigenous forms.Oyeniyi Okunoye (2010;2011), while looking specifically at the work of the ewì poets, especially Olanrewaju Adepoju, says that by exploiting the expressive advantages of both orality and writing, and by adapting to the sundry media offered by new electronic storage and retrieval, not only has ewì entrenched itself as a viable form, but, by doing so, it shows the regenerative capacity of Yorùbáperformance culture.
While showing many interesting ways in which the Yorùbápoetic genres responded to modernity, there is a generic classification implicit in these discussions that tends to overlook advances in the indigenous poetry itself.To focus on ewì poetry specifically, a usage of the name has been exploited in a way that assigns credit for innovation achieved in the indigenous forms to ewì.And this discourse is slippery to engage because it latches on to the fact that all poetry is essentially ewì.In a sense understood in both performance and academic texts, all poetic forms in Yorùbaá re ewì. 1 In other words, while ewì today is more widely used to specifically refer to the specific modern Yorùbágenre as practised by Adepoju and Oladapo, the name also broadly refers to poetry.Tunde Adegbola and Damola Adesina (2020) argue with ethnographic and archival proofs that ewì is indeed a twentieth-century neologism, and they conclude that it was adopted to label a new Yorùbáform equivalent to poetry as conceived in the Western tradition.
The occasional need to differentiate the older indigenous genres from the modern ewì has resulted in fashioning retronymic identifiers such as ewì adaýébá(indigenous poetry) for the old forms such as ìjaĺa, ẹ̀ sàand raŕa, and ewì ìwòyí or ewì ìgbalodé (modern poetry) for the modern form. 2 The adoption of the term 'ewì' for the poetic sui generis that Nnodim and Okunoye describe has its root in a similar classification by Adeagbo Akinjogbin (1969).In his introduction to the collection of Yorùbáewì, Ewì Iwoyi, Akinjogbin had earlier pronounced that 'ewì ni orúkọ ajùmọ̀ jẹ́ tí a fún ẹ̀ yàakọ sílẹ̀ kan tí a maá fi ohùn sọ tí a sì maá fi ohùn dídùn kà[ewì is the name adopted for a type of writing performed and read in a poetic voice]' (ibid.: 13, emphasis added).Even as the writer later broadens his entries to include the more indigenous types such as ìjaĺáand iwì/ẹ̀ sa, the pronouncement has to some extent made writing conditional for ewì: for example, it is in keeping with that understanding of the form that Okunoye (2010), while writing on the modern ewì, also includes A ̀labí Ògúndépò and Yẹ mí Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, ìjaĺápoet and babalaẃo/Ifápoetry performer respectively.The inclusion may be understandable in the context of the two artists having exploited writing as a medium of, or aid to, performance.While sociality, admittedly, compels dynamism in the ways in which poetry is continuously invented and used (Anyidoho 1994;Kaschula 1997;Barber 2009), my concern about this discourse and tradition of classification, however, is that it elides individual and particular assessments of indigenous Yorùbaṕ oetry as growing forms.It is fascinated by the orality-writing interface to the point that the specific and peculiar ways through which each genre mutated in response to modernity and related encounters are occluded as all of them are homogenized as ewì.In this work, I adopt the latter, narrower classification and thereby make a distinction between ewì, on the one hand, and ìjaĺáand Ifápoetry on the other.While not discounting ewì as a novel generic category practised by artists such as Ọ lańŕewajú Adépọ̀ jù and Ọ latúbọ̀ sún Ol ̣adapọ̀ , ìjaĺáand Ifáperformances considered here are, contra ewì, deemed continuous from traditions that have always been undergoing modification to the extent of adjusting to new socio-cultural imperatives.
A ̀labí Ògúndépò (b.1943) is the oldest living professional ìjaĺápoet.His amateur and professional practice dates from the beginning of the second half of the last century to the present.Born to ìjaĺa-poet parents, Fatoḱun and Ògúnrìnọ láof Ṣ akí in Oyo State, Nigeria, Ògúndépò's practice began naturally as imitation of his parents and older siblings; he would later distinguish himself by providing curtain raisers before adult performers and during occasional performances at primary school events (c.1953-59).Apart from performing live professionally and using the regular media of audio and video records, Ògúndépò has participated in most of the modern performance media: popular theatre, modern literary theatre, writing/photoplay series, television and radio broadcasts, electronic media and outdoor advertisements.
Born into a household of professional hunters in Òṣogbo, Osun State, Nigeria and pledged before birth to Ifa,3 Ifaýẹ mí Òṣundagbonù Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n (b.1947) is a babalaẃo. 4hile the awo profession naturally makes him a performer of Ifápoetry, Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, more than any babalaẃo in Nigeria in the last century, has reconstructed and repurposed the performances associated with Ifa.Like Ògúndépò, he has featured in most of the definitive stages of cultural production in Nigeria: traditional live performances, popular theatre, radio and television production, audio and video record production, literature and electronic media, and outdoor advertisements.Ògúndépò and Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n illustrate better than any of their contemporaries the response of the traditional performer to cultural encounters that have reshaped their society and profession from the beginning of the last century to date.
While insisting that the works of A ̀labí Ògúndépò and Yẹ mí Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n remain ìjaĺaá nd Ifápoetry respectivelynot ewì ìwòyí, narrowly speakingthe two poets are used in this article to explore the nature and extent of recent shifts from orthodox artistic practices, to reflect on the factors that impel those shifts, and on how the artists articulate and manage the tension that emanates from them.The discussion relies on recorded performances of and conversations with the two poets, and ancillary texts from co-poets and key informants.

Breach and limits of structure
The composition of many of the poetic forms anticipates third-person participation.For example, 'ìjaĺa, ẹ̀ sa, raŕàand egé chants' have well-known formulae in which songs 'are [either] punctuated or ended with a song dictated by the lead chanter' (Ọ latúnjí 1979: 190).Audience participation, for example, is encouraged in the structure of ẹ̀ sàin the musical two-or three-liner that the lead poet introduces and that is repeated by a chorus of co-performers and audience.In ìjaĺa, the lead poet at the end of a turn may introduce a two-line song: The repeated first two lines here are intended to induct the audience into an accessory performative role, for if the poet's companion(s) were co-hunter poets already in the know, the lead performer is more likely to open the song without the repeated lines.In that case, he would start with only the lead line and his companions would easily follow with the familiar complement.The disposition of A ̀labí Ògúndépò has always been unorthodox, ever since his early recording days.Although he largely adopts the traditional compositional formula, the poet has begun to incorporate into his ìjaĺáfeatures that would later dominate and redefine the art.In 'Kadará'ò Gb'oògùn', a solo performance recorded in 1971, he opens with ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , performance poetry of the babalaẃo, but closes with a structurally familiar ìjaĺásong. 5From the early 1980s, when he began to record more frequently, his composition started to be more daringly inventive, with elements and styles of delivery appropriated from other forms.The two identical works recorded for Olatubosun Records in 1981, ÌjáláAré Ọ dẹ volumes 1 and 2, adopt musical accompaniment resources of gẹ̀ lẹ̀ dẹ́ and folk songs, not ìjaĺa.Progressively, Ògúndépò's performance has become inventive to the point of adopting a complex musical accompaniment performed by a specialized group.This pattern of composition reflects a transition from the phase when 'Yorùbáverbal artists are not professionals' and 'live primarily on the proceeds of their [other] profession as farmers, weavers, herbalists, and hunters' (Olajubu 1978: 684-5) to the phase when the co-performing audience has been pushed to the sidelines and the poet becomes the uninterruptible cantor, the professional.This transition, for the poet, is imperative, for tí ayé báńyí, t'éeỳaǹ dúrólojúkannáà tẹ tẹ rẹ , wọ n o gbagbé olúwaarẹ̀ : : : Nisìn-ín, nígbàt'áwa fẹ́ ẹ́ joḱòóti nkan yìí [ìjaĺa], taá fẹ́ pèé n'íṣẹ́ ẹ wa, táàn'íṣẹ́ míì, óyẹ kámaá ro ọ pọ lọ wa lojoojúmọ́ : : : Kìíse ìjaĺaá ẁa-ara-wa-ríra-wa nìkan.Gbogbo ìwọ̀ nyẹ n tiẹ̀ ti gba'gboro kan; atẹ ni toḿ ọ̀ 'jaĺáa sun, atẹ ni tí ò'mọ̀ 'jaĺa, gbogbo wọ n ni wọ́ n m'orin yẹ n whoever remains static when the world is moving is quickly forgotten : : : Now that we have decided to make this [ìjaĺáperformance] our only profession, we need to be reflecting creatively all the time : : : It should not just stop at aẁa-ara-wa-ríra-wa [two-liner song] ìjaĺa.In fact, that pattern is already well known in town; both ìjaĺápoets and non-poets know it.6 For the poet, transition also has a very interesting literal dimension.Ògúndépò informs us in the 2002 conversation quoted above that 'tẹ́ lẹ̀ tẹ́ lẹ̀ : : : ìjaĺa, ajoḱòośun ni.A ̀wọ n agbàiwajú u wa naá, títí di ìsìnhín, wọ́ n ńjoḱòóni [the ìjaĺáused to be a sedentary art.The poets who came before us always sat down to chant, even up till today].'A major aspect of moving the art from the amateur and semi-professional to the professional phase, for Ògúndépò, therefore, is leaving the seat to stand and walk as he uses his entire body to deploy kinaesthetic signs during live performances.I return to the discussion of the other dimensions of professionalization shortly.Sacred texts are often susceptible to disuse in light of strict provisions that moderate their performance and ensure their fixity.Daniela Merolla thinks that 'elements of such literatures are at risk of disappearing when styles and texts are linked to specific languages and rituals that are no longer performed as they were in the past' (Merolla 2014: 80).Ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , the performance of Ifápoetry by babalaẃo during ritual and/or festive occasions, is similarly considered walled off from innovation.According to Olatunde Ọ latúnjí (1972), ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ has a compositional structure that discourages addition from sources extratextual to the Ifásacred corpus. 7Of the four elements listed as the 'content and structure of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ chant' (namely, homage, address to audience, Ifáverse and song coda), the obligatory three are sacred Ifáverses, and homage and coda that are themselves partly or wholly composed of odu Ifátexts.The component that speaks to the general audience is the only optional element.Both Ọ latúnjí (1972) and Wande Abimbola (1976) further explain that regulatory antiphonal 'yesses [hiin]' and 'nos [baún kọ́ ]' from co-babalaẃo constitute cues by which performing babalaẃo are prevented from inserting wrong or invented lines: 'their response is either Hen en in "(Yes, you are correct)" or Ba un ko "(No you are wrong)."If the chorus replies Baún kọ́ thrice, the leader is forced to stop for another person to take over from him ' (Ọ latúnjí 1972: 69).Abimbola indeed provides a more dire context 'where a priest [babalaẃo] makes a serious mistake while chanting in defiance of the expressed wishes of the congregation : : : [and is] thrown out of the meeting in shame' (Abimbola 1976: 15).
The existing understanding, represented by Ọ latúnjí and Abimbola, has apparently been influenced by a modern assumption of the sacred text as scripture, an inviolable writ.Orality, to which Ifáis moored, however, has no place for such closure.While, admittedly, there is relative oversight to dam indiscriminate inflow, existing Ifátexts show updates that have been obviously invented to address new encounters.In 1971, at the palace of the traditional Yorùbáruler, the Alaafin of Oyo, a team of babalaẃo congregated to chant their goodwill in Ifápípe,8 ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ and songs for Lamidi Adeyemi III, who had just been installed as Alaafin.A lead babalaẃo poet begins with prayers to stymy all potential adversaries of the Oba, citing Ọ̀ bara-Ọ̀ sẹ́ , an odù9 that 'r'ọ́ bi das 'órí oníbi [makes evil backfire against whoever planned it]'.As already pointed out by scholars of the genre, ẹ sẹ Ifá(the infinite verses that odu Ifać ontain) and ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ are not exactly the same thing; one quick way to clarify this is that ẹ sẹ are the raw texts of Ifáverses from which not only ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ but also other genres draw their content, ẹ sẹ 's location within Ifápractice notwithstanding.Ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ is just a performance of selected ẹ sẹ by babalaẃo, with one of them leading at a time.Ifátexts are, as such, performable even in extra-ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ contexts.The ẹ sẹ Ifáis, in fact, more frequently performed ad lib and solo by babalaẃo than in the disciplined context of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ .Ifáis, therefore, taken here as a broad field from which performances, including those noncontiguous to Ifádivination, draw content.Going a little further afield in the way that ẹ sẹ Ifátexts themselves are constituted, while they are broadly classified into 256 odu (sixteen major and 240 minor odu), the constituent ẹ sẹ (narrative verses) under the sixteen odu are so infinite that no one babalaẃo knows them all.This would weaken the kind of unbreachable surveillance attributed to the Ifáinstitution by Ọ latúnjí and Abimbola.Most importantly, the corpus is so thematically and chronologically capacious that there cannot but be invented updates at some point to cater to cultural and historical exigencies.This vastness accommodates narratives such as the one set in the mythical past when penises were detachable so women could keep them whenever their husbands travelled,12 or a relatively recent one about how Ọ̀ rúnmìla's wife gave birth to Prophet Mohammed, 13 or even a more recent one on the technological ascendancy of the 'white man' over the 'black man'.14Like many other expressive cultural sites, Ifat herefore has numerous testaments to encounters that have changed it.More significantly, beyond the strictures of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , the Ifáverses themselves present a performative affordance due to 'the form of ẹ sẹ Ifá[that] is predominantly poetic' (Abimbola 1976: 31).Indeed, babalaẃo could 'specialize in chanting as part of their post-initiation training' (ibid.: 20).There are, as such, accomplished poetbabalaẃo who choose to be lyrical when rendering the ẹ sẹ even in contexts when speech-mode delivery would be fine.All of this points to internal agential fissures within Ifáthat make innovations possible.The major way in which the Ifápoetry performance of Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n moves away from classical practice can first be noticed in the inversion of the structure described by Ọ latúnjí.In 'Orí lódámi', a poetry performance recorded in 1984, for example, Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, while using Ifásongs extensively, deploys Ifav erses more sparingly as he concentrates on the explication of the concept of destiny in Yorùbáthought.In this way, the obligatory elements such as 'ìjúba' and 'Ifáverse' become optional and yield ground to original text specifically addressed to an audience.Of course, the structure described by Ọ latúnjí speaks only of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , but I argue later for an equal ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ status for some (if not most) of Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's poetry.

Sociality, literacy and the expanding performance circuit
Studies in African traditional performance have long been alert to the mutation of oral forms in response to modern encounters (Anyidoho 1994;Kaschula 1997).
Rather than categorize such transitions as formidable modern encounters in which weak old tradition is overwritten by a new one, however, they should be considered natural points in the continua that followed since those forms were invented, long before we made setting such changes down into a business.Karin Barber (2009) explains that transition in the media of African performance is due largely to socialitysociality as a way of 'belong[ing] to society' in which 'wage labour, urbanization, literacy, the church [and] the school' have become central.Barber's perspective refrains from seeing such transitions entirely 'as being caused by [twentieth-century global] media flows' (ibid.: 9).Performance forms that thrived in ancient feudal aristocratic society and engaged that society in different ways responded to the tremor of the new order.
'That-which-is-scarce-in-the-market-like-the-roast-yam' was what we used to know since God made the world Modern civilization came, now you put out roast yam for sale Must we on account of civilization tread the floor with an open sore?
You roast yam and roast plantain You roast maize and roast sweet potato You roast cocoyam and roast cassava in the open You may roast the cowpea too if you want, the reduction of your farmland that would follow shall be your problem. 15he new condition that throws up odd mercantilism also shakes up the patriarchal comfort zone that the babalaẃo poet used to know.Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, in 'Obinrin Iwoyi', agonizes over the new independence that monetary economy has brought for women, who have become obsessed with its acquisition: Ọ̀ kańjúàòhun olèdéédé l'órí Pansaǵàòhun abíkú ọ gbọ ọ gba lóse B'oẃóbátań, pansaǵàa gbọ̀ n'dí pẹ́ pẹ́ épé, wọ n a sań lọ bí ẹ yẹ .
Greed and stealing are two of a kind The adulteress and a child-born-to-die are one and the same For when there is no money any more, the adulteress takes flight like a migrating bird. 16his elevation of mammon above other values is understood in Ẹ lẹ́ buìbọ n's model as part of the endless tail towed by slave trade and colonization: Wọ́ n ti kówa l'oǵún gbogbo, òyìnbóti jàwál'oĺèasaL ẹ́ yìn tí gbogboò'lú ti d'asìngbàt'áò leèdádúrómọ́ Wọ́ n wágb'Olodùmarè1 7 lọ́ wọ́ ọ wa Wọ́ n gb'oẃólé wa lọ́ wọ́ , wọ́ n s'owód'ọ ba fún wa.
They have stolen all our heritage, the white man has taken our values from us After the entire nation had been bonded in slavery and we lost independence They took away Olodùmarèfrom us And gave us money, saying money is our new lord. 18s they lyrically respond to the changes that are redefining their world, the poets and their poetry are mutated by these changes.As Western education and literacy attained primacy and became socio-economic capital, the traditional poetry was also inflected.Studies have shown how literacy, especially in indigenous languages using the Latin script, has reshaped production, performance and audience (Kaschula 1997;Nnodim 2006;Okunoye 2010).The very social process of the artist's encounter and mediation of the new expressive means gives culture-and location-specific details to the earlier elaboration on the orality-writing interface.Both Ògúndépò and Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n grew up as Western education was being mainstreamed and literacy becoming a privileged means of producing and circulating knowledge and information.Ògúndépò, in fact, had a formal education up to the first year in modern (postprimary) school before leaving for lack of funding.Ògúndépò's disposition to education as instruction in literacy unequivocally admits it as an accessory to the art, a means by which the art ensures retention in a world that has begun to change its voice.All Ògúndépò's performances from the early 1980s to date are scripted.Before this time, 'a ìí kọ ọ́ 'lẹ̀ .N'ígbàt'aá̀nṣe rẹ́ kọ́ ọ̀ dù kéékeèké oníṣẹ̀ ẹ́ jú méjì abọ̀ , bíi oníṣẹ̀ ẹ́ jú maŕùn-ún : : : Nígbàt'aá̀nṣèyẹ n, a maa nŕò ò l'oŕí nítorípé isẹ́ ò pọ̀ l'ọ́ wọ́ [they were not scripted.When we were making the short two-and-a-half-minute and five-minute records : : : When we were doing that, we performed from memory because we had just a few performances].' Now, the age-old mode of internalizing lines by rote has become inadequate for the new situation, which requires a poetry that caters to increasing patronage and a variety of unrelated themes and contexts, such as radio and television jingles and promotion, political campaigns, open market advertisements, and so on.The human creative and retentive capacity that the older poet Ògúndare Fọ́ yańmu boasts in Orin Òjòwú -'ìran a temi ò j'òògùn ù 'sọ̀ yèt'ófi níyèn'nú [poets of my bloodline need no charms to aid their memory]'has been strained to the limits and found incapable of servicing the new clientele of the professional poet.Unlike what is more widely observed in the discussion on the writing-orality interface, where the written text stands analogous to writing and a volume of written poetry is considered an alternative to the spoken, writing here is mnemonic.It is a move away from the phase when memory and practice were the poet's only means of keeping performance texts.
The poet's deep apprehension regarding traditional poetry's waning valence and the traditional poet's increasing socio-economic precarity influenced his interaction with the agencies of modern cultural production.At the time when Ògúndépò left Ṣakí for Òṣogbo, where he still lives, the primary education he had received amounted to little or nothing in the semi-urban location.Joining Oyin Adejobi's travelling theatre troupe in Òṣogbo was his entry into modern performance.During this time, he was auditioned for the role of Agúnlẹ́ yìnoye, the court poet in Wole Soyinka's film Kongi's Harvest.Ògúndépò saw the first proof of the remunerative prospect of literacy and education on the set of Kongi's Harvest, where his daily pay was £3.30, more than thirty times higher than his monthly £3whenever the play season was goodwith the Oyin Adejobi group of barely educated and outright unlettered actors.Conversely, educated co-actors on the movie set who had worked on productions elsewhere in the world felt that the pay was stingy and called for a boycott.Ògúndépò joined in but refused to leave when the pressure action failed.After the production endedduring which time he enjoyed benefaction from Soyinka and his friend and collaborator Femi Johnson, so that he did not have to feed himself from his paythe poet stayed at the School of Theatre, University of Ibadan, headed by Soyinka, to study for a certificate.
The background that Yẹ mí Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n emerged from was uncompromisingly postcolonial in the way in which it elevated the indigenous and resisted conscious incorporation of the exotic.In the early 1950s, when children were being put in school under the Universal Free Education programme of the Western Region government of Obafemi Awolowo, Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n senior was approached by the education officials to enlist his little son.The patriarch, turning them down, explained that the boy was already pledged to the babalaẃo profession; and when the officials further tried to convince the father that Yẹ mí could attend school while still being an Ifápupil, he walked away, saying 'kìí rí baún mọ́ ; aẁọ n tí'ań lọ ọ̀ padà[it always turns out to be false in the end; those who went that route never returned]'.The postcolonial consciousness was later to define much of Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's original work.During his pupillage, when educated artists, scholars and impresarios such as Wole Soyinka, Uli Beier and Duro Ladipo started to converge in Òṣogbo at the Mbari Mbayo Club, Yẹ mí had begun to distinguish himself as an eloquent child babalaẃo poet.Uli Beier was drawn by the boy's performance from the Mbari Mbayo house, right opposite Yẹ mí's master's home.Beier befriended the little boy and always wanted him around whenever there was a performance at Mbari Mbayo or to teach them some aspects of Yorùbáculture.Yẹ mí would be beaten thoroughly by his master whenever he was found in the company of any Mbari Mbayo artist, or when he cut Ifálearning sessions to sit with children being taught home lessons.Although he had self-taught himself to read and write in Yorùbáin spite of persecution, it was on qualifying as babalaẃo that Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n learnt basic written and spoken English and written Yorùbáthrough correspondence courses. 19or Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, as for Ògúndépò, writing today has become an accessory to the original texts generated out of the body of Ifáknowledge and expression.For Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n particularly, it should be noted that using the medium of writing extends beyond poetry performance to television documentary plays, explanatory prose on Ifa, and feature films.

Critique, licence and performance in the teeth of power
The robust authorial insertion of the poet persona in the production and performance through such means as writing and technology has radically changed the forms in some ways.Being demographically specific to hunters, a social class that is traditionally associated with contestation and trespass, ìjaĺáhas many components that are agonistic, ranging from unabashed sexualized abuse and humorous innuendos to the combative exchange among poets to prove lyrical superiority.While they have performed in the courts of aristocrats, praising monarchs, chieftains and the rich, the ìjaĺápoets have also critically turned on this same class that often patronizes them.Ìjaĺápoets ordinarily belong in the class of artists traditionally guaranteed cover from persecution for any offence their work might give, because 'Ọ ba 'ìí p'ọ̀ kọ rin [King does not kill the poet]' (Olajubu 1978;Ọ latúnjí 1979;Okunoye 2010).Ọ latúnjí, however, qualifies this licence, noting that 'in spite of the oral poet's freedom to comment on the community, there is enough evidence to show that he can get into trouble with political leaders or powerful people within the society'.Specifically, he points out an instance when 'an ìjaĺáartist : : : was arrested by the police and had to pay a heavy fine' (Ọ latúnjí 1979: 196) and another in which 'the [military] governor ordered [ìjaĺápoet Owolabi Aremu] to be sent out as a rebel and : : : for three months after the incident council officials at A ̀kẹ̀ sań were still after him ' (ibid.: 198).But Ọ latúnjí's reference is in fact to the traditional poet in the modern state and economy that promise him material ascendancy through professionalization but take his licence away by law.An incident concerning Ògúndare Fọ́ yańmu, Ògúndépò's contemporary mentioned in Ọ latúnjí's article as being 'very close to Ọ ba Ọ ladùnńní Oyeéwùmí Ajagungbadé III', the Ṣọ̀ ún of Ògboḿọ̀ ṣó ̣ (Ọ latúnjí 1979: 193), a prominent Yorùbámonarch, would illustrate this perilous situation of the artist.
In 1989, at the commissioning of the electrification of Gambari, a community under a local government headquartered in Ògboḿọ̀ ṣó ̣, there were prominent traditional rulers in attendance with the military governor, Sasaeniyan Oresanya.Subtextual to that gathering and event is a simmering rivalry and bickering among the traditional rulers, some of whom draw their claim to prominence and seniority from not just historical but mythical past: Ṣọ̀ ún, Olúgbọ́ n, Arẹ̀ sa, Ònpetu, etc. 20 All the traditional rulers seemed to be pitted against the Ṣọ̀ ún, who now enjoys modern ascendancy with the urbanization of his domain.According to Ṣayọ̀ A ̀lagbé, a journalist and the foremost biographer of Fọ́ yańmu, when Fọ́ yańmu started to perform at that event, 'ẹ lẹ́ gùn ú gbàá[the spirit (muse) possessed him]' and he turned on his patron, blaming him for intransigence: 'Ògboḿọ̀ ṣó ̣ kan naá̀ni gbogbo wa / E sọ fún Ṣọ̀ ún Oyeéwùmí kóyéé l'agídí mọ́ [We all are of Ògboḿọ̀ ṣó ̣ / Tell Ṣọ̀ ún Oyeéwùmí to eschew stubbornness].'21At that point, the enraged Ṣọ̀ ún motioned Fọ́ yańmu to stop and was later joined by the military governor.But the 'possessed' poet waved them off with 'N ówìí, Ọ ba ìí p'ọ̀ kọ rin / Ohùn l'Ọ ba ásé [Let me speak for the King does not kill the poet / Only the voice can the King mute]', finalizing the verse with a musical coup de grâce: More is to come.

Lead
The military governor, angered by the poet's conduct, banned him for six months.There is, however, a noteworthy clause in the lyrical retort of the poet to his patron's caution.'Ohùn l'Ọ ba ásé [Only the voice can the King mute]' seems to apprehend that the poet's immunity might not be absolute after all.As literally denoted in the first line, the ancient protection might have related only to the poet's life, not his practice.
There is a noticeable downplay of the ìjaĺáagonistic temper in the work of A ̀labí Ògúndépò, especially post-1970s.A relative pacifist and urbane disposition is required by a new clientele that the poet now services.Persuasion, not necessarily reproach, would work better on the radio listeners whom Ògúndépò cautions against speeding or child labour.While mild censures are addressed to anonymous archetypes like the corrupt, the disorderly and sex offenders, confrontations with specific referents such as those that always animate ìjaĺáand other traditional forms are avoided.The oaths, body-shaming and other expletives that you find in Ògúndépò's work up to the late 1970s and in most of Fọ́ yańmu's work are the sensational spice of the classical ìjaĺa.But that agonistic temper is now toned down; Ògúndépò would especially caution that performances that are intensely critical of the political establishment in the time of crisis could worsen that crisis.Recalling Fọ́ yańmu's ordeal with hindsight, Ògúndépò reaffirmed: Ìdí tiẹ̀ nìyẹ n t'ófi yẹ kí nkan maá ní akọ ọ́ lẹ̀ .Tí nkan ò bál'aḱọ ọ́ lẹ̀ , t'éeỳaǹ baĺ 'òhun d'ojú agbo pé ohun tóbásáti bọ́ s'ohun lẹ́ nu naá̀lòhun ọ́ maa sọ , eèỳaǹ ód'ọ̀ táẹ lòmíì.
That's the very reason things [performances] ought to be scripted.If they are not scripted and you enter the arena to say whatever lines come spontaneously to your mind, you end up making enemies. 22  Today, the poet, therefore, has a new task of reining in the ancient demon of performative spontaneity through such means as writing, which allows for pre-performance reflection and eliminates unintended lèse-majesté.
However, exorcizing contestation and aggression from ìjaĺácan hardly be total, especially as politicians contesting for different offices are now a major section of the poet's clientele.As in the traditional praise in many of the Yorùbápoetic forms, the subject of a political campaign is highlighted as an antithesis of a real or imagined opponent.In the Osun State 2003 governorship election campaign record for Ọ laǵúnsoýèOyinlọ la, the candidate who would later win the election, Ògúndépò calls out the opponent incumbent governor noted for frugality as 'ọ mọ ahun [the stingy one]', contra Ọ laǵúnsoýe, the prince of Òkukù, an 'ọ mọ ajífẹ rúkẹ [he who grew up being pampered by slaves]'.Similarly, in the performance for Akin Ògúnbiyi, the Accord Party candidate in the Osun State 2022 governorship election, 'B'ẹ́ ẹ bágb'olódo l'aáỳe, aá́ba'lúȷẹ́ [Let in the unintelligent one and he will ruin the whole state]' is widely considered to be directed at an opposition candidate who was said to have no university education and was involved in a certificate scandal.So, in the testy political campaign climate of Nigeria, where the safety of lives, especially partisan ones, are not sure, Ògúndépò always leaves town before the release of a campaign record: Compared to ìjaĺa, there is an interesting obverse dimension of transition in Ifápoetry such as that performed by Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n; Ifápoetry heads in the direction from which ìjaĺáis apparently departing.One major feature of Ifápoetry, especially as ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , is its reconditeness.Ọ latúnjí (1972) notes that the expressive otherness or 'quaintness' is what the secular audience finds attractive in ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ .As such, two layers of audience are created: the smaller specialist audience of babalaẃo who co-perform and police conformity with their 'yesses' and 'nos', and the larger non-babalaẃo audience who just listen as entertainment.The participatory and assimilative limitations that come with this are relatively contrasted in ìjaĺa's more accessible language and predictable musical formula, which encourage participation.Today, the ìjaĺáas performed by Ògúndépò has complicated lyrical composition by writing into the performance more dense and original elements, especially complex musical elements that discourage participation.Conversely, the poetry of Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n mainly speaks to the modern secular audience that the classical Ifápoetry hardly addresses directly.However, the most radical of the obverse patterns in the dimension of transition can be seen where Ifápoetry now acquires a critical and agonistic temperament that ìjaĺáhas begun to de-emphasize.
The contexts of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ and the social location of its performance agents naturally predispose the form to a placid temperament.Ọ latúnjí (1972: 71-2) informs that ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ always privileges narratives that end positively, even as the Ifácorpus has a huge body of tragic narratives that warn against evil and disobedience.Being healers of somatic, psychological and social maladies, the public performative face of the babalaẃo is that of peace and calm; the verses redacted for ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ performance are therefore made to reinforce those optics.As noted earlier, the decolonial consciousness impressed from Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's professional nursery has continued to define his poetry; and this orientation has infused the emerging poetry with so much contestation hitherto unknown to the form.The familiar context justifying Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's disposition is the overwhelming onslaught, by colonization, on the culture of which Ifáand its priest are cardinal components; the reflections of today's babalaẃo, represented by Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, come from a place of intense anxiety about the unrelenting breaching of the foundation of the culture of which they are an important unit, by formidable modern institutions of religion, education and state.The postcolonial critical accent arises from the poet's defiance of colonial hegemonic assumptions and the hollowness of these assumptions.All of Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's postcolonial theses are premised on the idea that a pristine African order preceded transatlantic, trans-Saharan and colonial encounters.Speaking largely to a pan-Yorùbápublic convened by the nationalist exigency of the mid-twentieth century and kept intact today due to the ethnic dimension of modern Nigerian politics (Barber 1997;2009;Nnodim 2006), Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n sets a beginning when 'jẹ́ ẹ́ jẹ̀ ẹ̀ jẹ́ làńṣeré e wa n'ílẹ̀ Yorùba[ we were going about our business in peace in Yorùbaĺand]'. 24The chaos following that order comprised the moments of slavery, slave trade and colonization, when 'aẁọ n eèỳaǹ funfun t'òkeèrèdé, [tí] wọ́ n l'aẃọ n ólàwálojú [white people arrived from far away, saying they wanted to civilize us]'.In the end, however, 'a lajú-lajú, ojú u wa 'ò sì rína : : : / A ̀wa fẹ́ maá kọ́ ìṣe ẹ nifunfun, ẹ nifunfun 'ò sì fẹ́ raǹ a wa/ Ẹni tí wọ n ọ́ tàl'ẹ́ rú ni wọ n ńwá[We became "civilized" but very ignorant : : : / We aspire to be like the white people, but the white people do not love us/ They are only looking for who to enslave].' For Ẹ lẹ́ buìbọ n, the encounters of both the slave trade and colonization retain their chokehold on the African mind even up to the new century.All the manifestations of the new cultural orientationwhich Western education, religion and other institutions that came with colonization broughtnot only negate the indigenous ways, but are totally inadequate.For example: Ẹ̀ yin ò ri b'aýé ṣ e dàl'ode òní?Gbogbo ọ mọ ge ní í tí nẃọ lé ọ kọ wọ n Ìyaẁóojú ọ̀ nàńse'bẹ̀ l'ọ́ dọ̀ ọ kọ ọ rẹ Bẹ́ ẹ ni kò ì wọ 'lé tí wọ́ n ti ńta'mi oge Tí wọ́ n báfẹ́ aya s'ọ́ nàtí ò tetèloýún Wéréwéré ni wọ n ópa'rú aya ọ̀ hún tì Oyún ni wọ́ n fi ńṣ e'yaẁoÈ ̣ yí tí ò tetèl'oýún yíógba'lẹ̀ míì lọ ni.

Can you see what the world has become today?
All the maidens now boldly enter the houses of their future husband A betrothed woman now makes food for her man And actually, even before marriage, they make love A betrothed woman who is slow to get pregnant Such a woman is rejected immediately It's now pregnancy before marriage Any one who is slow to get pregnant they reject and send away.
Even themes that are not primarily ideological are also underlain with postcolonial accent.In December 2001, Bọ́ láÌge, Yorùbánationalist and politician, was murdered in his home in Ibadan while serving as Nigeria's Attorney-General and Minister of Justice.Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's 'Tribute to Bọ́ láÌge', a dirge for the nationalist, is partly an apostrophic inquisition of dead Ìgefor becoming 'less conscious' later in life.The 'loss of consciousness' spoken of here refers to the politician's commitment to Christianity, which naturally meant less involvement in Yorùbátraditional matters that could involve rites and other things considered unacceptable by the church.Invoking his hardly known Christian forename, the poet queries: Jeémíìsì Ajibọ láÌge, kílodé t'oó fi j'awàálẹ̀ gan-an?Kílodé tí mùṣ emúṣ èrẹ ò daṕé mọ́ ?Nígbatí wọ́ n fi ńṣ í ọ ní fìla, kílodé t'oò leèfura?James Ajibola Ìge, why did you let down your guard?Why were you no longer active?When they removed your cap, why did you not read the sign?Ìge's lack of vigilance is then placed in the broad context of cultural imperialism within which indigenous knowledge has now been discounted.Because 'ìṣ e oníṣ e làńse/ Bẹ́ ẹ ni, ìwàoníwàni àńwù [We copied the actions of foreigners/ And yes, we copied the culture of foreigners]' and 'A gb'òmìnira òṣ elú, a'ò l'oḿìnira aṣ à[We are politically independent but not culturally independent]', the nation has become too emasculated to solve and punish the murder of one of its eminent citizens.More culturally rooted investigation and prosecution involving 'ìmùlẹ̀ pa [ritual drinking of the earth solution]' would have revealed and punished the killer, contrary to 'gbogbo ìwadìí ìgbalodé [tí] ńf'orí sańpań [all the modern investigation that always leads to a dead end]'.
Using the existing taxonomy, the poetry of Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n would not count as ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ ; the poet, in fact, always signs himself off with the byline 'emi A ̀yìndé lósọ bẹ́ ẹ̀ l'éwì [I, A ̀yìndé, am who's been speaking in ewì]', adopting the broad generic identifier.In particular, the poetry's overwhelming subjectivity and inventiveness preclude such classification, especially as we have been told that ẹ sẹ Ifáis the staple of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ .However, a broader consideration of the definition of ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ will make such classification at best qualified or tentative.In the Ifánarratives themselves, ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ are mentioned as original spontaneous poetic utterances in very intense situations such as of joy, fulfilment, danger, despondency, loss and so on.In a narrative under odù 'E jì Ogbe', Ọ lọ́ fin, the main character, was excited on vanquishing his enemies: 'l'Ọ lọ́ fin bań ́jo, ní ńbáńyọ̀ ; ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ ní nfí nśunkún'ùpín, ẹ kún Olúfẹ̀ , aìí sun ú si'é [and Ọ lọ́ fin danced happily; he sings his fate in ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , that song of the Ife Lord that no one chants in vain]'. 25A story in odù Ọ̀ saágúnlejàdescribes a hunter running for his life, with a raging shapeshifting buffalo in pursuit.The hunter had earlier married and betrayed the animal-turned-beautiful woman.The vengeful animal, having decimated the hunter's entire family, sparing only her own children, now has her quarry holed up in a place where she can gore him: 'l'ọ de bábẹ̀ rẹ síí f'ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ s'ohùn arò [so the hunter raises a sonorous ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ of lamentation]', begging for his life and reminding the animal of the good times they spent together as husband and wife. 26any of the situations that Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n responds to poetically are as intense and their contexts of equally numinous nature as those ancient ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ -inspiring moments.The ambience in which the death of Bọ́ láÌgèunfolds to the babalaẃo is surreal:

Ilẹ̀ ẹ́ mì A ̀rásań ní ojú ọ̀ sań Ilẹ̀ mọ́ l'oŕu
The earth trembled There was a thunderstorm in clear broad daylight The day broke in the middle of the night.
Most significantly, there is what could be called broadcast value in the conceptualization of the originary ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ that prefigures the contemporary media.In odu Ifá'OgbeÀ laŕa', a pupil of Ọ̀ rúnmìlà(the primordial archetype babalaẃo and personification of Ifa), looks after his master's home in the latter's absence.Faced with a knotty problem presented by the master's wives which requires a solution beyond his experience, the apprentice removes himself to a high mountain close by, as if to access a good 'signal': 'lówám'ẹ́ kún ófi d'ígbe, ómú ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ ófi s'ohùn arò [and he raised his voice as if in a cry and sang ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ in lamentation]' in communication with his master miles away.Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, in a further clarification of this particular moment, noted that: ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ tí aẁọ n araá'jọ́ hun nda, ódabí ìgbàtí eèỳaǹ ńfi ẹ̀ rọ ìbańisọ̀ rọ̀ t'ánṕèní telephone lode òní sọ̀ rọ̀ .Wọ n a maá fi p'eèỳàn, wọ n a maá fi daŕò, wọ n a maá fi p'òwe the ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ employed by the people of old is similar to the telephone communication of today.They employed it to summon people, as a lamentation and as figural utterances. 27  The mythopoetic representation of the moment Bọ́ láÌgèbreathed his last recalls this kind of transmission: Ìlú u London ni mo waÈ ̣ yẹ kan fò lérémi-lérémi, ógba'páọ̀ tún ù mi lọ Ẹ yẹ kan fò bagẹ̀ -bagẹ , ótún gb'apáòsì i mi bọ̀ Mo l' 'Ẹ́ yẹ , kí lodé?' Ẹ yẹ 'ò dámi lohùn, ẹ yẹ ò yéé ké.
While I was in London One bird flew out on my right Another flew in on my left 'Birds, what augury is this?' I asked, but the birds neither answered nor ceased their cry. 28  At daybreak, Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n got his answer from a more mundane medium of transmission: Ìge's death was announced on the television.In addition, the very modern affordance of transmitting the babalaẃo's subjective reflections across spaceand indeed timevia television, radio and other electronic media today has also returned the form to a context analogous to its ancient beginning.
Invariably, creative personalization of the nuances and content of Ifáhas always been part of performance of the babalaẃo.The 1971 Ifápípèsession for the newly installed monarch referenced above bears this out.The new Alaáfin is inserted as a character into the narrative about a certain Ọ lọ mọ A ̀jaǹgatiele, who excels in spite of contrary forces.In that performance, the babalaẃo chorus after their leader that, in the same fashion as A ̀jaǹgatiele: Ọ mọ kékeré lóní k'ọ́ ba ọ máleèse ti'ẹ Olúwaarẹ ni ò ní r'ojú se ti'ẹ : : : Putting the poetry where the money is: performance at the economic turn The twentieth and twenty-first centuries' economies have shaped the transformation of performance practice.Apart from exploiting new means of performance such as the audio media of vinyl and cassette, and the filmic medium using mainly VHS (Barber 1997;2009), in the 1980s and 1990s, when governments had a firm and nearmonopolistic control over the institutions of information and social services, traditional poetry formed part of the content of radio and television broadcasts as well as outdoor promotional communications by government agencies.A ̀labí Ògúndépò's pacificist admonition noted earlier, broadcast on radio in Yorùbaspeaking parts of Nigeria in the tense post-12 June 1993 election period, was commissioned by the National Orientation Agency.Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n also had a widely broadcast radio performance chanted as ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ , complete with 'yesses' and chorus ending, counselling students against examination malpractices.But beyond offering a direct material benefit, the media also fixed the artists as unignorable everyday features as their performances signed the beginning and end of important broadcasts such as news bulletins and public service announcements.
The gradual failure of the public sector in Nigeria and the kind of private sector economy it threw up at the turn of the century have determined the ways in which traditional poetry has reinvented itself.As governments become increasingly less responsible, people also start to exploit various private alternatives to hitherto exclusive services such as health, education, security and information.There are, of course, different genres of these alternatives depending on the socio-economic class of their clients.Performance in general has become the persuasive front of these emerging alternatives.Specifically, traditional forms have begun to appropriate the resources of ìpoloẃo, Yorùbáart of commercial advertisements and promotions.Niyi Osundare likens ìpoloẃóto 'modern day advertising, [which] grew out of the incessant human economic cycle of demand, production, and supply', but clarifies that, 'unlike overcommercialized and overbureaucratized modern advertising : : : ìpoloẃo, in the traditional setting, is a face-to-face, street-to-street activity which is carried out in anticipation of an immediate response' (Osundare 1991: 63).Ìpoloẃo, in sum, consists of poetry, music, dance, etc. intended to persuade or draw clients to merchandise or a service; the peculiarity of the ìpoloẃóbusiness-client relation is the investment of the business with the voice and person of the performer; he relates performatively and in real time with the clients.However, the ìpoloẃo's audience is largely imaginatively homogenized as a demography united by patronage.This apparently challenges Karin Barber's understanding of 'publics' -'an indefinitely extensive collectivity made up of equivalent, anonymous units' (Barber 2009: 9)contra audience, as being coterminous with colonial modernity.The traditional ìpoloẃo, irrespective of the parallel verbal and physical exchange between performer and clients, is rooted in the visualization of its audience as a mass that buys.
For the traditional Yorùbápoet, the new economy is one in which reliance on official patronage and record sales is precarious; governments now have little or no use for poetry, and record companies are cutthroat exploiters. 30Classical Yorùbaṕ oetic forms have now inserted themselves in the space that casual, fluid and unorthodox ìpoloẃóused to occupy alone.Today, in popular Nigerian markets such as Bodìjàand Gbaǵi in Ìbadaǹ or Ìgbọ̀ nàand Owodé in Òṣogbo or Tẹ́ júosóin Lagos, Ògúndépò's or Kola Akintayo's ìjaĺáor Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n's Ifáchants blare from electronic public address units across a very large space, competing with multiple human-voiced ìpoloẃóto draw attention to a set of herbal medicines, a private school currently admitting new students, or a company that secures your life and property better than the Nigeria police.Apart from the new audiences that the performances now address, the forms themselves have had to admit transformation as they attune to the present context.
Major Yorùbápoetic forms are differentiable by voice quality and modulation.Babalola (1966) andỌ latúnjí (1979) observe that a kind of tonal softness is peculiar to ìjaĺa.Babalola's field observation and information reveal that the sound of ìjaĺá'must approach [be similar to] good singing' (Babalola 1966: 53).Specifically, 'the voice must not be forced, the vocal organ must not be overworked; the ìjaĺa-chanter should perform with a relaxed effort' (ibid.: 58).At the point that persuasion becomes Ògúndépò's major performative intentalerting the listener to a news bulletin that is better than any ever broadcast on radio, or warning against violent protest and war, for instancehis voice starts to acquire increasing stridency and decibels.This jarring stridency has attained a new level unknown to ìjaĺa, with electronic amplification and occasional strategic echoes that overwhelm nearby voices.
The economy in which the poet now finds himself also requires some ideological reassessment to align the art with the market and the world.While barely holding onto the idealness of the 'good old days', the poet resignedly shows a keen understanding of the new condition in the ways he sometimes exploits the challenges of the industrial urban for commercial persuasion.Ògúndépò dwells on various challenges that the twenty-first-century Nigerian person contends with; describing a new condition that produces work-related stress in one instance, for which he would recommend Omo Osun Herbal Mixture, he says with a sigh: Ilé ayé yìí ti d'ibùgbé ìlakakaÀ ̀tibù'kelèò tún gb'ojúbọ̀ rọ̀ mọ́ Saŕé-n-bajàloḱù, ayé d'ayé e boójí-o-jími Ìgbòkegbodò ọ mọ eèỳaǹ ńpeléke ni kò dínkù.

The world has become a place of intense labour
To feed is no more an easy task It's now down to survival of the fittest, a world of early bird catches the worm Humans' toil keeps growing, no reprieve.
Ìjaĺá-and, indeed, Ifápoetry, including ese Ifá-manifests some of the patriarchal orientation of the feudal society in which it evolved and has been continuously transformed.It has been observed that ìjaĺáin particular centres masculinity because male hunters dominate its agency (Ògúnsina 1996) The morality of Ọ̀ rọ̀ Obìnrin Ìwòyí that pathologizes a woman's desire for and right to good sex and reproductive decisions is not so valid any more.The social compass moves gradually from demanding that a good woman numbs her passion to a par with her man's to a converse requirement that a man must satisfy his woman.In the alternative health sector that has emerged since the new millennium, there is, therefore, an emphasis on sexuality and reproductive health.In A ̀labí Ògúndépò's advertisement for Cassia Herbal, an alternative medicine brand, the poet now admits that 'obìnrin ò sì níí f'ara mó̩ k'ẹ́ nu ójẹ un k'isalẹ̀ ọ́ gbaàẁẹ̀ [a woman will not have you just give her food but deny her sex]' and 'Bí'ọ̀ básí ìbaĺòpọ̀ tójágaara, ìfẹ óyòrò [In the absence of good sex, love withers].'While introducing Man Booster, a sexenhancement formula from Dr Alayo Herbs, Ògúndépò prioritizes orgasm as he declares that the man is obliged to 't'atẹ̀ kanlẹ̀ k'oó ju jíàkókù rìrì [fire the engine and engage its gear until it shudders]'.What is more, today, a woman's sin of leaving the tender child at home to pursue other matters aside from motherhoodcensured in Ọ̀ rọ̀ Obìnrin Ìwòyíis now normalized as Ògúndépò proclaims in strident ìjaĺáfrom a horn speaker mounted on a school bus that she can now leave her one-year-old at the crèche run by Modupe Olu Group of Schools.

Conclusion
The indigenous Yorùbápoetry tradition has always been in a state of flux, with content and form being shaped by exigent factors at every historical moment.The poetics that scholarship on the forms of poetry describes are therefore inevitably thwarted at every turn when such imperatives as sociality and economy demand performative reviews from performance agents.Transition in the structure and content of these forms has sometimes been explained in terms of a different generic category evolving from the old ones.Speaking specifically of ìjaĺáand Ifápoetry, generalizing them as ewì muddles the prospect of differentiating the transition of these indigenous forms from that of the modern form of the same name (ewì).The ìjaĺápractice of A ̀labí Ògúndépò instantiates one pattern of transition in which performance gradually yields ground from affirming conservative patriarchal and communal values to sometimes admitting the ascendancy of the modern or often affirming it outright.Caught in a new situation that mainstreams literacy, monetary economy and other cultures, A ̀labí Ògúndépò has evolved a fully professional practice from an ìjaĺátradition that had only begun to become semi-professional, creating in the process a more specialized type from which the previously participating audience has now been banished to the sidelines.The value that accrues from the creative outcomean ìjaĺámade solely by Ògúndépòis paid for by a new clientele: government, entrepreneur, politician, etc.
While equally affected by the same factors, Ifápoetry reacts differently.The sacred location of Ifá-as a practice of healing and spiritualityseems to have tempered the extent to which its poetry internalizes modernity.Indeed, the putative fixity of sacred texts has led early studies to overlook the presence of verifiable creative mutations in the Ifácorpus.As performed by Yẹ mí Ẹ lẹ́ buìbọ n, Ifápoetry, while exploiting the affordances of literacy and electronic media, continues to avow the indigenous African even as the ground increasingly gives way from under it.More than when there was little or no apprehension of acculturation, the agency of the babalaẃo performer now intervenes prominently to contend with ideological consequences that come with being modern.
In spite of poetics, traditional Yorùbápoetry has more prospect for licence than has been acknowledged.There have always been vents for innovative breaches, even in performance traditions thought to be secured by sacred sanction.Beyond what is perpetuated by age-old routine, performers have attuned their practice to the colonial and postcolonial cultural, social and economic transition, a condition that strains their arts sometimes almost to the point of profane reversal.In addition to thematizing the anxiety of that transition, performers of indigenous forms such as ìjaĺáand Ifápoetry have continually reinvented their practice and content to adjust to or contend with this condition.The forms are genres in transition, not fixed forms from which modern types have evolved.Sometimes unified and sometimes uncoordinated, the performance texts are a transcript of the various encounters that society has experienced, that have reshaped it and from which poetic agency is not insulated.
The lead, before introducing the song that ends his verse, notes that it was Ọ̀ sẹ́ (the character in the origin of this song's formula (if not the song itself) is very recognizablyYorùba- Islamic. 11t is laid on a well-known alásaláátù compositional format of which the best-known version is as follows: narrative) who 'mú'yẹ̀ rẹ̀ : : : sunkún ù'pín [declaimed his fate in ìyẹ̀ rẹ̀ ]' and 'yanu kotoó rin awo ní nḱọ [opened his mouth to chant as do the initiates thus]': Lead babalaẃo: Òh, jẹ́ nse temi ò é Co-babalaẃo: Jẹ́ nse temi ò é Lead babalaẃo: Òwò kìí f'oẃò l'órùn Co-babalaẃo: Jẹ́ nse temi. 10Lead babalaẃo: Oh, let me be about my business in peace Co-babalaẃo: Let me be about my business in peace Lead babalaẃo: One worker does not suffocate another Co-babalaẃo: Let me be about my business in peace.The 27Ifaýẹ mí Ẹlẹ́ buìbọ n, 'Ifádivination, rituals and prayers in traditional healing', 1987, Archive of Sound and Vision, Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan.
. Many of Ògúndare Fọ́ yańmu's poetic censures of social ills, such as adultery, dirtiness and jealousy, that are genderatypical are addressed to female personae.As the patriarchal order that the ìjaĺaś ervices and supports very slowly yields to a new world where women are beginning to push back at the various walls used to contain them, ìjaĺásometimes reacts by showing a hostile anxiety towards this change.An early poetry album by Ògúndépò, Ọ̀ rọ̀ Obìnrin Ìwòyí (Women of Today) (1977), 31 sanctions matchmaking by parents (even as he points out that monetary gains should not be the sole determinant), and reproaches female daring and independence expressed through cosmetic enhancement, sexual licence and interpersonal relations.The very toxic animosity in Ògúndépò's reaction is expressed ad hominem via slurs, body shaming, malediction and other forms of aggression: 'Oloŕíburúkú ìyaẁótọ́ jáọ mọ rẹ̀ ẹ́ lẹ̀ tí ńse wúndíáka[ Ill-fated woman who left her child at home to go out as if she were a maiden]'; 'Dẹ̀ ẹ̀ rẹ̀ dẹ ẹ rẹ etèbíi kòboḱò [Lips prominently extended like the horsewhip]'; and 'B'éeỳaǹ baá́r'ọ́ mọ lẹ́ yìn ejò lo le fi bímọ : : : egún kọ́ , epèkọ́ , o ò ní l'aárọ̀ [Only if it were possible to see the snake nurse its broods will you have a child of your own : : : I curse you not, but you will never have a child to replace you].'Icite this as a high point in the lyrical reflexes occasioned by the social transition of the time.In Ògúndépò's early performance, Ọ̀ rọ̀ Obìnrin Ìwòyí [Women of Today], recorded some four years after Ẹ lẹ́ buìbọ n's similarly titled performance cited earlier, there is an androcentric figuring of gender and sex that precludes women from sexually expressive behaviour.There is a fictive personal experience in which an independent Western-educated female character named Suzie wants a relationship with the character Ògúndépò.For the local Yorùbápoet, this honest passion of a starstruck young woman who dares to choose her man is strange: 'O ò ri i pé'bi t'aýé ńlọ wọ̀ nyí nkan ni / Obìnrin-bìnrìn ní ńf'ẹ nu ara a rẹ̀ ẹ́ p'eèỳaǹ![See how odd the world is turning out / A mere woman now woos a man with her own mouth!].' Like his contemporary Ẹ lẹ́ buìbọ n, Ògúndépò blames Western education for the 'weird' boldness and independence acquired by women, and so vows in the classical ìjaĺaḿ usical closing:About fifty years later, it has become less reprehensible for a woman to not only choose her man, but to satisfy herself sexually via interpersonal or automated means.