WEST AFRICA REVIEW (2001)
ISSN: 1525-4488

SPIRITUALITY AND APPLIED ETHICS: AN AFRICAN PERSPECTIVE
Kölá Abíðbölá

Abstract

This paper provides a philosophical assessment of two institutions and their practices: the institution of traditional medicine and the ethical issues generated by its practice; and, the institution of contemporary African philosophy and the relevance of its practice to African societies. Taking one contemporary African society as an example, I argue that the metaphysical assumptions implicit within the practice of medicine provide new insights into the relationship between morality and religion. These assumptions also provide new guidelines on how to make philosophy more relevant to contemporary African societies.

INTRODUCTION

The term ‘ethics’ can be used to include normative ethics--thought about the basis and justification of moral rules and principles; meta-ethics--the meaning of moral terms; applied ethics--the nature, content and application of specific moral guidelines; and, descriptive ethics--accounts of how people actually behave in situations requiring moral action. Contemporary thinking on ethics in African philosophy is primarily concerned with normative and descriptive ethics.

In fact, much of contemporary scholarship on ethics from an African point of view is preoccupied with the question of whether moral rules and principles arise out of religion (in which case, they are valid because the gods command them), or whether these rules arise out of reason (in which case they derive their validity from some non-religious base). Because these scholars also make claims about the nature of the principles implicit within traditional African societies, much of their work is also on descriptive ethics.

My topic is not this well-worn issue of the basis and justification of moral rules and principles. In fact, I have very little to say about them. My primary concern is with applied ethics. I will examine the question ‘what should I do?’ against the background of spirituality in the practice of medicine in contemporary Yorùbá society. I will argue that the issues of applied ethics that arise in Yorùbá culture (traditional and contemporary) are by far more complex than anything ventured by most contemporary African philosophers.

The crux of the matter has to do with the nature of ethics itself. In contemporary Western conceptions of ethics, ethical and moral issues arise within the context of interactions and contact amongst natural beings. That is, issues of ethics come into discussion when we consider the implications of human and/or animal actions vis-à-vis other humans and animals. Let us describe this Westernized conception of ethics as the "this-worldly" approach to ethics.[1] I will argue that in Yorùbá culture (both traditional and contemporary), ethics is a three-way relationship among: (i) natural beings and other natural beings; (ii) natural beings and spiritual beings; and (iii) spiritual beings and other spiritual beings.

MORALITY AND RELIGION

The question of the relationship between morality and religion has preoccupied philosophers since the inception of philosophy. Plato puts this question well: ‘Do the gods love piety because it is pious, or is it pious because they love it?’ Put in this manner, the question becomes a variant of the age-old ‘is-ought’ problem. For this Socratic question is really interested in the logical connections between what the gods’ will is, and what we ought morally to do. Is there a logically persuasive connection between what the divine will is, and what we as humans ought to do? Does this divine will derive its moral force of appeal from the simple fact that it is willed by the gods? Or is there a logical gap between the is and the ought such that we can derive the moral force of the ought independently of the gods’ will?

The question of the role of religion and ethics in African society has been addressed by people with two opposing points of view: those like John Mbiti and Moses Makinde who maintain that morality derives its validity from religion, and those like Segun Gbadegesin, Kwasi Wiredu and Polycarp Ikuenobe who maintain that it does not.[2] Despite the irreconcilable differences between proponents of these two views, implicit in their work is the assumption that (just as in mainstream contemporary Western philosophy) ethics in Africa is about those action-guiding principles on the basis of which individuals within a community (and, of course, the community as a whole in relation to individuals, or in relation to other communities) regulate their conduct with other humans beings (and, of course, with other communities). Morality is primarily a this-worldly affair in which we focus on issues of co-operation, actions, attitudes, emotions, character, etc., vis-à-vis relationships with other sentient human beings and animals.

While I do not deny that ethics is and should be a this-worldly affair, my contention is that, from the Yorùbá perspective, this is a very limited view of ethics. Ethics, in traditional and contemporary Yorùbá society is not just about the nature and quality of interactions between sentient natural beings. In Yorùbá culture, ethics has a supernaturalistic dimension in the sense that moral issues also have to do with the relationship between spiritual beings and humans, and indeed, it also has to do with the relationship amongst spiritual beings.

It is important to be clear on the contrast I want to draw between my views and those of most contemporary African philosophers. My claim is not that philosophers such as Makinde, Gbadegesin, and Ikuenobe accord no role whatsoever to the supernatural world in ethics and morality. In fact, that which distinguishes African ethics from Western ethics is the role of religion in African thought. My claim is that implicit in the work of these African philosophers is the (contemporary) Western conception of ethics as a field in which the primal focus of attention is the relationship amongst natural beings. Morality and ethics are primarily about human conduct within human communities. Ethical questions are raised about those human conducts that affect other humans and other natural beings. In the philosophies of these African philosophers, religion and the spiritual realm are outside of the moral equation in the sense that questions about the proper role of religion in ethics are pertinent only in issues of the source, origin, bases or ultimate justification of moral rules and principles. For these African philosophers, the role of religion and spirituality in African ethics can be encapsulated by the following questions: From whence does ethics derive its moral force of appeal? From God and the gods, or, from the force of reason? A more precise way of putting these questions is to say that much of contemporary African philosophizing on the relationship between ethics and religion is squarely within the domains of normative and descriptive ethics.

My position on the role of religion in the justification of moral rules and principles in Africa can be stated very easily because I do not always accept the law of excluded middle. I do not accept that the question: "do African moral rules and principles derive their validity from the gods, or do the gods command these rules because they are valid?" is exhaustive of all the possible options. When it comes to logic, I am an intuitionist, and, hence, on the issues of the basis of African moral rules and principles, my answer would be: we should not assert the truth of statements of the "P or Q" form when there is no specific justification for P, nor any specific justification for Q. Consequently, within some specified contexts, religion merely supplies prudential and pragmatic justifications for moral conduct. In its prudential or pragmatic functions, religion merely serves as the motivation for moral conduct, thereby encouraging or discouraging conduct. However, in Yorùbá culture, morality does not exist outside of religion in its this-and-other-worldly view of ethics. This is due to the fact that the spiritual and natural planes of existence form the same continuum in Yorùbá culture. In this intuitionist view of the relationship between morality and religion, the middle ground excluded by standard "either ... or" logic is not excluded.

THE SPIRITUAL AND THE NATURAL IN THE YORÙBÁ COSMOS

As with most religions, Yorùbá religion divides the cosmos into two realms of existence: the spiritual world and the natural world.[3] The spiritual world is the abode of supernatural forces such as Olódùmarè (the Yorùbá High God), the Òrìsà (all the Yorùbá divinities), the Ajogun (anti-gods or the malevolent supernatural powers), the Àjë (who are translated inadequately into English as "witches"), and the ancestors. The natural world is composed of humans, animals and plants. Spiritual beings visit the natural world regularly. And through divination, sacrifice and spirit possession, natural beings can also partake in the spiritual world occasionally. The spiritual and natural worlds are, therefore, interdependent.

At first, the Yorùbá cosmos might appear to be like that of Christianity and Islam. Õrun is somewhat equivalent to heaven, and aye is somewhat equivalent to this world. What is more, Yorùbá theology also has a place in the supernatural world comparable to hell, namely, Õrun-Àpáàdì. Indeed a host of scholars of Yorùbá theology have compared and re-interpreted Yorùbá theological accounts of the cosmos and its inhabitants in such a way that Yorùbá theology is not distinguishable from that of Christianity. Consider, for instance, the following claims of Bolaji Idowu, one of the most cited scholars on Yorùbá theology:

The creation of the earth was completed in four days; the fifth day was therefore set apart for the worship of the Deity and for rest.[4] (Idowu, 1962, p. 20.)

It would seem that when the world began, everyone could travel to heaven and back as he wished and that all could have immediate, direct contact with Olódùmarè. The oral traditions say that heaven was very near to the earth, so near that one could stretch up one’s hand and touch it. ... There was a kind of Golden Age, or a Garden-of-Eden period. Then something happened, and a giddy, frustrating, extensive space occurred between heaven and earth. The story of what happened is variously told. One story is that a greedy person helped himself to too much food from the heaven; another that a woman with a dirty hand touched the unsoiled face of heaven. The motif is all one--man sinned against the Lord of Heaven and there was immediately raised a barrier which cut him off from the unrestricted bliss of heaven. The privilege of free intercourse, of man taking the bounty of heaven as he liked, disappeared. (Idowu, 1966, p.22.)

Idowu claims to be describing Yorùbá theology as presented in the Ifá Literary Corpus, the sacred text of Yorùbá religion. Indeed, he quotes extensively from the Ifá Corpus. But unfortunately, to any Ifá priest, Idowu’s translations and re-interpretations would be representative of anything but Yorùbá theology.[5]

Consider for instance the first quotation above from Idowu. In a footnote reference to his claims that in Yorùbá theology the Deity created the world in four days, Idowu refers us to page 112 of his book, were we read the following:

It appears that, originally, the sacred day of each divinity came round every fifth day, and it is possible that the same sacred day was observed for them all. This would be based on the belief that the creation of the earth was completed in four days. There is a saying that Ifá l’ó l’òni Ifá l’ó l’õla, Ifá l’ó l’õtúnla, Ifá l’ó ni ‘jö mërin Òrìÿà dá’lé aiyé-- "To Ifá belongs today, to Ifá belongs tomorrow, to Ifá belongs the day after tomorrow, to Ifá belongs the four days in which the Òrìÿà created the earth".

This so-called saying of Idowu is actually an excerpt from a poem contained within Ògúndá Méjì, which is the ninth book the Ifá Literary Corpus. As some of the theological ideas contained in this poem will become important later on in this paper, I include the full text of the poem.

Ifá-ló-lòní,
Ifá-ló-lõla.
Ifá-ló-lõtúnla-pêlú-ê.
Õrúnmìlà-ló-níjö-mërêêrin-Òòÿà-dá-sílé-ayé.

5 A dífá fún Õrúnmìlà,
Níjö tí ajogun gbogbo
Þ kan ilée rê lákànyún.
Ikú, Àrùn, Òfò, Êgbà, Èÿe,
Gbogbo wôn ní þ yö Õrúnmìlà á wò.

10 Wön þ wí pé
Ôjö kan ni àwôn ó pa á.
Ni Õrúnmìlà bá gbé Òkè Ìpõrí araa rê kalê.
Ó dá Ògúndá Méjì.
Wön ní ëbô ni ó wáà rú.

15 Ó sì rú u.
Ìgbà tó rúbô tán
Ni Òkè Ìpõríi rê bá ràtà bò ó mölê.
Ni Ikú ò bá le è pa á mö,
Bëê ni Àrùn ò le è ÿe é mö.

20 Ijó ní þ jó
Ayõ ní þ yõ.
Ó þ yin àwôn awoo rê,
Àwôn awoo rê þ yin Ifá.
Ó ya çnu kótó,

25 Orin awo ló bö sí i lënu.
Çsê tí ó nà,
Ijó fà á.
Ó ní bëê gëgë
Ni àwôn awo òun þ ÿçnu rere é pe Ifá:

30 "Ifá-ló-lòní,
Ifá-ló-lõla.
Ifá-ló-lõtúnla-pêlú-ê.
Õrúnmìlà-ló-nijö-mërêêrin-Òòÿà-dá-sílé-ayé.
A dífá fún Õrúnmìlà,

35 Níjö tí Ajogun gbogbo
Þ kan ilée rê lákànúyn.
Ôjö tÍkú bá þ wá mi í bõ wá,
Ifá, ìwõ ni o ràtà bò mí,
Béwé þlá ti í ràtà á boori

40 Bëri þlá ti í ràtà á bo yanrìn lódò.
Níjö tÁrùn bá þ wá mi í bõ wá,
Ifá, ìwõ ni o ràtà bò mí,
Béwé þla ti í ràtà á boori
Bëri þla ti í ràtà á bo yanrìn lódò.

45 Ôjö tÁjogun gbogbo bá þ wá mi í bõ wá,
Ifá, ìwõ ni o ràtà bò mí,
Béwé þla ti í ràtà á boori
Bëri þla ti í ràtà á bo yanrìn lódò.
Ètípön-ôla n í í ràtà á bolê

50 Ifá, ìwõ ni o ràtà bò mí,
Béwé þla ti í ràtà á boori,
Bëri þla ti í ràtà á bo yanrìn lódò"

Ifá-is-the-master-of-today,
Ifá-is-the-master-of-tomorrow.
Ifá-is-the-master-of-the-day-after-tomorrow-as-well.
Õrúnmìlà-is-the-master-of-all-the-four-days-(of-the-week)-established-here- on-earth-by-the-divinities.[6]
5 Ifá divination was performed for Õrúnmìlà,
On the day that all the malevolent supernatural powers
Were repeatedly haunting his household
Death, Disease, Loss, Paralysis, Affliction
Were all glancing at Õrúnmìlà

10 They were saying that
One day they will succeed in killing him
Õrúnmìlà then set down his divination instruments to consult his Orí.[7]
Ògúndá Méjì was divined.[8]
He was advised to offer sacrifice.

15 He offered the sacrifice.
After he had completed this sacrifice
His Orí provided protective shielding for him.
Death could no longer kill him,
Nor could Disease afflict him.

20 He was dancing
He was rejoicing.
He was singing the praises of his Ifá priests,
His Ifá priests were singing the praises of Ifá.[9]
He opened his mouth slightly

25 Joyous Ifá songs came out of his mouth.
He stretched his legs,
He found himself dancing.
He said this is exactly
How his priests delightfully predicts with Ifá:

30 "Ifá-is-the-master-of-today,
Ifá-is-the-master-of-tomorrow.
Ifá-is-the-master-of-the-day-after-tomorrow-as-well.
Õrúnmìlà-is-the-master-of-all-the-four-days-(of-the-week)-established-here-on-earth-by-the-divinities.
Ifá divination was performed for Õrúnmìlà,

35 On the day that all the malevolent supernatural powers
Were repeatedly haunting his household
The day Death comes looking for me,
Ifá, spread out and provide shielding for me,
Just as éwé þlá spreads out to shield oori,[10]

40 Just as a big river spreads out to shield the sands of its bed
On the day Disease comes looking for me,
Ifá, spread out and provide shielding for me,
Just as éwé þlá spreads out to shield oori,
Just as a big river spreads out to shield the sands of its bed

45 The day all the malevolent supernatural forces come looking for me,
Ifá, spread out and provide shielding for me,
Just as éwé þlá spreads out to shield oori,
Just as a big river spreads out to shield the sands of its bed
It is Ètípön-ôlá[11] that spreads out to shield the soil,

50 Ifá, spread out and provide shielding for me,
Just as éwé þlá spreads out to shield oori,
Just as a big river spreads out to shield the sands of its bed"

The first thing to note about this poem is that it makes no reference whatsoever to creation of the earth, much less to of days of creation. The only reference to creation here is the number of days within the Yorùbá week. Hence the poem is of very limited relevance to the Yorùbá creation story. The Yorùbá creation stories are contained in other books of the Ifá Literary Corpus, the most important of which are: Ogbèyêku, Òtúrúpõönwönífá, and Èjì Çlëmçrç (also known as Ìrçtê Méjì). The phrase: "Ifá l’ó ni ‘jö mërin Òrìÿà dá’lé aiyé" which Idowu has translated as: "To Ifá belongs the four days in which the Òrìsà created the earth", has nothing to do with creation. Rather the phrase means something like: "To Ifá belongs the four days established here on earth by the Òrìÿà".[12]

But Idowu is not alone in the Christianization of Yorùbá theology. In discussing Olódùmarè (also known as Ôlörun), the Yorùbá High God, and Ôbàtálá (one of the major divinities of Yorùbá religion), Benjamin Ray also claims that:

Yorùbá myths say that Ôlörun (whose name means "Lord or Owner of the Sky") delegated the task of creating the world to one of his sons, Ôbàtálá. (Ray, 1976, p.53.)

There are many flaws within this one sentence. First, the source of Ray’s assertion that Olódùmarè is male is a complete mystery. In all Ifá poems (and other traditional Yorùbá genre such as Ijala and Iwi Egungun), Olódùmarè is gender neutral. The fact of the matter is that, taken all together, Ifá poems suggest that Olódùmarè is, in essence, a spiritual entity; as such, describing Olódùmarè as male (or female) is inappropriate. Since Olódùmarè lacks gender and corporeality, Olódùmarè is better described as an "It."

Second and most importantly, although Ray is quite correct in claiming that the task of creating this world was assigned to Ôbàtálá, he is in error to refer to Ôbàtálá as Olódùmarè’s son. Although Ôbàtálá, just as the other gods, is lesser than Olódùmarè, it is quite clear from Ifá poems that three divinities have always co-existed with Olódùmarè. These are Ôbàtálá, Ifá, and Èÿù.

This also means that power relations in the Yorùbá supernatural world are completely different from those in Christian theology. The best way to understand power in the Yorùbá supernatural world is to distinguish between existential and functional hierarchies. In the existential hierarchy, we can identify four levels of chronological/existential superiority:

Level 1: Olódùmarè, Ôbàtálá, Ifá and Èÿù.

Level 2: The other divinities; the Ajogun (i.e., evil supernatural forces--we can

call them anti-gods); the Àjë (often improperly translated as ‘witches‘).

Level 3: Humans; plants and animals.

Level 4: The ancestors.[13]

In the functional hierarchy, Olódùmarè is undoubtedly supreme as the chief executive. Olódùmarè is the final arbiter in all functional issues in the Yorùbá cosmos. Nonetheless, one should not say of Olódùmarè that: "He is creator" "He is king", "He is Omnipotent", "He is All-wise, All-knowing, All-seeing" (Idowu, 1966, pp.39-41), thereby equating Olódùmarè’s role with that of the Christian God.

Olódùmarè in Yorùbá theology cannot be all-knowing because Olódùmarè frequently consults Ifá (i.e., the god of wisdom) for knowledge and advice through divination! Olódùmarè cannot be the creator if by this we mean to suggest that Olódùmarè alone created everything else. As we have seen, Olódùmarè did not create Ôbàtálá, Èÿù and Ifá as these three have always co-existed with Olódùmarè. Moreover, when it comes to the creation of humans and the world, it is quite clear from Ifá poems that there was a division of labor among Olódùmarè, two other divinities, and a third spiritual entity who is not regarded as a divinity. It was Ògún who fashioned skeletons, Ôbàtálá molded forms and shapes, and Olódùmarè imparted the breath of life. We also have Ajàlá, an entity who is not regarded as a divinity, but who molds the Orí (i.e., "inner-heads") of humans. Orí is the principle of "destiny" in the sense that it embodies each individual’s potentialities for success and/or failure on earth.[14]

Moreover, when it comes to day-to-day administration of aye (the natural world) and Õrun (the supernatural world), Olódùmarè has delegated responsibility to the divinities. This is precisely why the Yorùbá do not often pray to Olódùmarè. They do not worship, offer sacrifices, nor build temples for Olódùmarè. Indeed, in terms of the day-to-day administration of the cosmos, Èÿù, who functions as the universal policeman, is the most important divinity.

Scholars such as Bolaji Idowu and Benjamin Ray also give the impression that the Õrun of Yorùbá theology is somewhat equivalent to the heaven of Christian theology. This is not quite so. First of all, Õrun, (often improperly translated as heaven) is divided into two parts: Õrun Òkè (i.e., Õrun above) and Õrun Odò (Õrun below). Only three supernatural entities reside at Õrun Òkè: these are Olódùmarè (the Yorùbá High God), Õranñfê, and, ßàngó (the god of thunder and lightning). Õrun Òkè as the name suggests is located above in the skies, while Õrun Odò is located inside the earth’s crust. All the other supernatural entities (ancestors, the other divinities, the Ajogun, etc., including Olódùmarè, who resides in Õrun above) reside at Õrun Odò.

But the differences do not end here. There are also many differences between the Christian and Yorùbá conceptions of evil. All evil in Anglo-Christian theology ultimately derives from one source, Satan. All evil acts, deeds, etc., ultimately result from the fact that Satan has a supernatural ability to overcome, persuade or entice humans into improper conduct. But in Yorùbá religion, evil does not emanate from one source.[15] Evil emanates from the evil supernatural forces called the Ajogun. There are two hundred plus one of these forces in the cosmos.[16] These forces are all separate and distinct entitles, and as such they are individually responsible for a specific type of evil. The Ajogun have eight warlords: Ikú (death); Àrùn (Disease); Òfò (Loss); Êgbà (Paralysis); Õràn (Big-trouble); Èpè (Curse); Êwõn (Imprisonment); Èÿe (Afflictions). Hence, one can engage in some linguistic license and claim that, while Christian theology has a mono-demonic conception of evil, Yorùbá religion has a poly-demonic conception of evil.[17]

One final point to note about the Yorùbá cosmos is that the Yorùbá do not regard the spiritual world as a place that is so far removed from the natural world that humans can gain access to it only after death. These two realms of existence are interdependent in the sense that there is constant communication between the two worlds. It is because of the constant inter-relationship between these two realms that the Yorùbá poly-demonic conception of evil has much bearing on ethics.

HEALING AND APPLIED ETHICS IN YORÙBÁ CULTURE

What has all this got to do with applied ethics? The answer lies in the fact that, because contemporary African philosophy assumes mistaken accounts of Yorùbá religion like those of Idowu and Ray, the import of the spirituality on day-to-day living is overlooked. This inevitably leads to a situation in which African philosophy has little or no relevance to African societies.

One clear-cut example of this is in the field of medicine. Medicine, whether implicitly or explicitly, assumes a conception of a person. The Yorùbá conception of personhood divides a person into two parts: the body, and the soul. But it further subdivides the soul into three parts: Orí (a personal divinity which functions as the principle of earthly success or failure for each individual); êmí (which is the breath of life); and çsê (which is the principle of freedom, and which functions as the "will to success"). Despite the fact that many African philosophers have examined the Yorùbá conception of personhood, and despite the fact that the most widely used method of medicine in Yorùbá society today relies upon this conception of personhood, the ethical issues generated by this view are never fully explored.

I will examine ethical issues in traditional medicine by looking at the role of the god called ßõnpõnnö, and the role of the malevolent force called Àrùn (Disease), in the practice of traditional Yorùbá medicine. As we shall see, ßõnpõnnö and Àrùn do not merely play important roles in the conception of illnesses, they also raise important moral issues vis-à-vis the treatment of illnesses and the control of epidemics.

It is customary in contemporary Western cultures to distinguish between traditional and alternative medicine. Contemporary Yorùbá culture also has a comparative distinction, except that the meanings of the two terms are reversed in Yorùbá culture. In the West, traditional medicine nowadays refers to orthodox medicine, which is medicine as practiced by a doctor who has undergone training in a medical school that is approved by the Medical Association. Alternative medicine is a generic term used to describe any other approach that employs principles and methods that are different from those of orthodox medicine. Chinese acupuncture, Indian ayurveda, and the healing aspects of Sufism are all regarded as alternative medicines in the West. In contemporary Yorùbá society, traditional medicine refers to the age-old holistic, non-Western, approach to medicine. By default, what is called traditional medicine in the Western world (i.e., orthodox medicine) becomes alternative medicine in Yorùbá society.[18]

What is significant is the stark contrast between the principles and methods of traditional (Yorùbá) medicine and those of orthodox (Western) medicine. The best way of introducing these differences is to start with a characterization of the differences between orthodox medicine and alternative medicine in Western thought. Orthodox medicine is, by and large, allopathic in the sense that its methodology for the treatment of diseases is based on what may be called the contrary principle: it attempts to treat diseases with chemical agents that produce effects that are contrary, or in opposition, to those of the disease being treated. Moreover, allopathic medicine is also concerned primarily with the elimination of symptoms.

Homeopathic medicine, on the other hand, treats like with like: it employs herbal remedies, which, if given in minute doses, would produce in a healthy person symptoms similar to those of the sick person. Moreover, while allopathic medicine is preoccupied with getting rid of symptoms, homeopathic medicine is also very much concerned with identifying the causes of illness and disease in an effort to restore holistic balance in the biological system. Yorùbá traditional medicine is homeopathic vis-à-vis the two main points above: it is interested in getting rid of symptoms, and it is also interested in identifying and removing the causes of illness. But there is also a spiritual dimension to the treatment offered by the Yorùbá herbalist (called onísègùn).[19] So, in their efforts to restore holistic balance in the patient, the onísègùn will also be interested in finding the spiritual causes of illness (if there are any), just as much as s/he will be interested in restoring spiritual balance in the patient (if necessary).

Restoring spiritual balance is important for two main reasons. First, as already hinted in my earlier discussion of the creation of human beings, in Yorùbá thought the human being is made up of four main components: (i) ara, the body, i.e., the skeleton created by Ògún, and the form molded by Ôbàtálá; (ii) êmí, that aspect of the soul which is imparted by Olódùmarè. (Since the word êmí is also the Yorùbá word for breath, it is quite obvious that the aspect of the soul derived from Olódùmarè is the breath of life.); Orí, the principle of material actualization; and (iv) çsê, which introduces the principle of individual effort, strife or struggle before the potentialities encapsulated in one’s Orí can be actualized. Çsê, in short, represents the idea that, ultimately, success is up to the individual. Note that êmí, çsê and Orí are all spiritual. Strictly speaking, one should say that the person has two parts: ara (the body) and the soul complex (êmí, Orí and çsê).

Divination is one important means of diagnosis employed by the medical practitioner. In the divination process, the priest establishes a link among the client, the clients Orí, and the god of wisdom, in a series of steps. So as to protect the integrity of the divination act, the priest is not told this complaint until after the divination.[20] After a series of invocations, the priest divines so as to determine the book of the Ifá Literary Corpus to select a poem from. The priest then proceeds to explain and interpret the message of the poem. Although there might be variations in the depth of knowledge the priest brings to bear on his or her interpretation of a poem, every specific poem has a specific message.[21]

If after having divined, the oníÿègùn determines that the source of disease, illness or affliction is spiritual, then in addition to herbs and medications designed to treat and repair the body, the oníÿègùn will also prescribe something for spiritual repair. Sacrifice is compulsory after every divination. But the oníÿègùn’s prescription may include incantations and/or Ifá (Ifá here meaning special herbal talismans, the recipes of which are contained in Ifá poems).

Indeed it is precisely because of this that we have the Yorùbá saying: "çbô gíngín, òògun gíngín níí gba aláìkú là." That is, "it is a little bit of sacrifice and a little bit of medications that saves the patient who is not going to die." Moreover, because it is only through divination that a bad or defective Orí can be repaired, one of the praise names of Õrúnmìlà (the god of wisdom) is: "Baba mi õmõn tíí to Orí elémèrè kéri elémèrè ö má ba à ÿe fö." That is, "my father, the molder who prevents the shattering of the inner-head of the (bad) spirit child by re-molding such heads."

But it is the role of the Ajogun called Àrùn that is most significant for our current discussion. Àrùn has at least three layers meaning in the Yorùbá cosmos. First it refers to an anti-god, (i.e., one of the Ajogun’s warlords). In Yorùbá theology, the Ajogun are completely evil and as such they have no redeeming virtues whatsoever. The avowed aim of all the Ajogun, including Àrùn, is the complete ruination of mankind. Only sacrifice and special pleading to Èÿù by one’s individual Orí can save one from the powers of the Ajogun.

The divinities, including Õrúnmìlà himself, can be afflicted by the Ajogun. It is precisely because of this that I have given the full version of the Ifá poem above. In this poem, Õrúnmìlà himself was the subject of the Ajogun’s attack, and was saved only by sacrifice. The poem tells us that the principal warlords of the ajogun-- Ikú (Death), Àrùn (Disease), Òfò (Loss), Êgbà (Paralysis), Èse (Afflictions), and the other Ajogun--were covertly visiting Õrúnmìlà’s household. This suggests that these anti-gods were attacking Õrúnmìlà’s household in such a way that these calamities, to all intents and purposes, appeared natural. It was only through divination that Õrúnmìlà was able to diagnose the problems befalling his household as supernatural. He succeeded in restoring balance only after he had performed some sacrifice. It should be noted also that this poem contains some Ifá (i.e., incantations). The last 16 lines of the poem contain incantations, which in conjunction with amulets and talismans function as remedies against evil spirits.

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