Reclaiming the Iyami: Unlearning Fear and Restoring the Primordial Mothers in Yoruba Thought
By Titilola Damilola
In Yoruba cosmology, Awọn Iyami, often called Iyami Aje, are the primordial mothers. They embody the original feminine force of creation, balance, and correction. They are custodians of cosmic order, not figures of casual malice. Yet, over time, their image has been reduced to something darker, misunderstood, and feared.
The label of “witches” was not born from within Yoruba spiritual thought. It was imposed through colonial and missionary lenses that could not comprehend a form of feminine power that stood autonomous, unmediated by male prophets, priests, or institutions. Any power that could not be controlled was quickly named, judged, and condemned.
Growing up, many of us encountered the Iyami through popular Yoruba films such as Eran Iya Osogbo, Koto Aye, and similar classics. In those stories, the Iyami were almost always portrayed as wicked forces, figures of darkness, women to be feared. As children, we absorbed these images quietly. They settled into our minds before we had the language or depth to question them. Even then, a simple thought lingered. Were there no good Iyami at all?
Those early films did more than entertain. They shaped perception. Deeply influenced by missionary Christianity, Pentecostal theology, and colonial morality, filmmakers borrowed spiritual language from Yoruba cosmology but interpreted it through a rigid Christian good-versus-evil framework. In that retelling, balance became wickedness. Correction became punishment. Cosmic law became revenge.
The Iyami, a complex force of order and equilibrium, were reduced to villains. Villains sell fear, and fear sells movies. In the process, feminine spiritual power was linked with evil, and elder women were cast as threats. Repeated again and again on screen, these images hardened into what many came to accept as cultural truth.
Yet, this picture is incomplete.
In authentic Yoruba tradition, the Iyami are not villains. They are primordial mothers, custodians of balance, correction, and order. The same force that nurtures life also holds the authority to discipline it. This does not make that force evil. It makes it lawful. It reflects a universe governed by principles, where creation and correction are two sides of the same sacred duty.
What the films rarely showed were the Iyami as protectors, as guardians of lineage, as enforcers of justice, and as stabilizers of the moral world. Fear was presented without context. And fear without understanding easily becomes prejudice.
With maturity and deeper engagement with Yoruba cosmology, it becomes clear how much of what we thought we knew had been filtered through lenses that were never truly ours. Colonial religion could not tolerate a vision of power that rested in women without male oversight. So it distorted it. Over time, that distortion entered our stories, our films, and our subconscious.
Perhaps the work before us now is gentle unlearning. To ask better questions. To tell fuller stories. Especially about our mothers.
When balance is understood, power no longer appears frightening. And when power is understood, women no longer need to be demonised.
Ìrẹ o.
