In the first part of this series, we journeyed through the opening lines of Oríkì Ìbàdàn, uncovering the layered praises, historical echoes, and place names that speak to the city’s rich cultural memory. We saw how each stanza isn’t just a chant, but a vessel of pride, resilience, and ancestral legacy.

In this second installment, we continue that journey—translating more lines of the oríkì Ibadan while exploring the people and places they reference. From prominent warriors to sacred landmarks, we delve deeper into the meanings encoded in each phrase, bridging the past and present of Ìbàdàn through its enduring poetic heritage.

Ibadan, whose ancestors dined on African mango and sipped pap from snail shells.

Ibadan is believed to have passed through three major epochs. The story begins with Lagelu, a warrior from Ile-Ife, who founded a settlement in a place known as Igbo Ipara. Interestingly, Lagelu never gave the town a formal name but travellers simply called it “ilú tó wà lẹ́bà ọ̀dàn” — the city by the savannah.

The town quickly flourished, boasting an astonishing 16 entry points. So well-known was this feature that a popular saying emerged: “Igun merin ni gbogbo ìlú ní, mẹ́rìndílógún ni ti Ibadan” — “Every town has four sides, but Ibadan has sixteen.”

Echoes of People and Places in Oriki Ibadan (3)

However, its rise was short-lived. During a masquerade festival, a tragic cultural misstep occurred — a masquerade was accidentally unmasked in the middle of a bustling market. Men, women, children, initiates and non-initiates alike witnessed the scene. News of the sacrilege spread like wildfire, and soon, the major Yoruba kings united to punish Ibadan for this cultural blasphemy. After three gruelling years of war, the city was overrun and destroyed.

Lagelu fled with the remnants of his people to the dense forests of what we now know as Eleyele. Surrounded and cut off by hostile neighbours, the exiles found abundance in the wild — African mangoes (Irvingia gabonensis) and snails, which sustained them during this dark chapter.

As time passed in exile, the resilient survivors of Lagelu’s settlement began to adapt to their new forest environment. They discovered how to cultivate maize, a crop that would soon become central to their sustenance. From it, they prepared pap (eko or ogi) — a soft, fermented porridge that provided nourishment and comfort.

Oríkì Ibadan: A Complete Translation of Ibadan’s Panegyric

Necessity, as always, inspired creativity. With no bowls or calabashes at hand, they turned to what nature had offered in abundance: snail shells. These large, spiral shells were cleaned and repurposed as makeshift cups for drinking pap.

This humble practice would eventually become part of Ibadan’s deep folklore, symbolising resilience, resourcefulness, and the ability to rise from ruin.

African mango (Irvingia gabonensis) is a tropical fruit tree native to the rainforests of West and Central Africa. Commonly known as bush mango or wild mango, it bears greenish-yellow fruits with fibrous pulp and a large, hard seed at the core. Rich in vitamin C and packed with traditional value, African mango has long been used in African cuisine — from thickening soups and flavouring sauces to making juice, wine, jam, and jelly. In recent years, it’s also gained popularity for its potential benefits in weight management.

The giant West African snail (Archachatina marginata) is a large, air-breathing land snail native to the forests of West and Central Africa. Belonging to the Achatinidae family, this tropical species can reach lengths of up to 20 centimetres (8 inches) and may live for a decade or even longer.

Ibadan Maja, do not fight as in the days of old, when war swept through neighbours, sparing none.

These lines echo the legacy of Lagelu, Òrò Àpáta Maja—the rock-dwelling spirit and founder of the first Ibadan. After fleeing to the hills of Eleyele with his loyal kin, Lagelu’s children would descend under the cover of darkness, launching daring raids on neighbouring towns—seizing food, goods, and whatever else was needed for survival.

In time, the surrounding communities, wearied by the unrelenting assaults, sought peace. They chose trade over turmoil, extending hands of commerce where swords once clashed. Thus ended the era when Ibadan’s hunger knew no mercy and no neighbour was spared.

The verse is both a remembrance and a gentle caution: Be circumspect. Honour your warrior past, but do not return to the days when survival came only through conquest.