In this reflective and provocative essay, CLEM OLUWOLE revisits the intersection of traditional African security practices, modern insecurity and the evolving role of religion in personal and communal protection. It calls for a rethinking of safety strategies that blends indigenous knowledge, practical security measures and faith-based responses in confronting today’s complex insecurity challenges
Before the white men came with their religions, which were often used to demonise our homegrown self-defence systems and discourage their use, African societies already had effective indigenous ways of protecting themselves from criminal elements within their midst. These systems were so effective that anyone contemplating crime—even something as petty as stealing cocoyams, corn, cassava, or pepper from a farm—would think twice.
For instance, a farm could be spiritually fortified with a talisman that ensured that once a thief stepped in to harvest crops, he would end up wandering endlessly within the farm until the owner arrived. In other situations, farming tools such as cutlasses and hoes were believed to be spiritually activated, forcing intruders to unknowingly begin working on the very farm they intended to rob.
Beyond farmlands, charms were reportedly placed in compounds to deter intruders at night. In some accounts, brooms infused with such protections would compel trespassers to sweep the surroundings until dawn, after which arrest would follow. In today’s ironic twist, such practices might even be misinterpreted as symbols of political affiliation, showing how far perceptions have shifted.
In rural and suburban Yoruba communities where I grew up, organised security structures existed under the coordination of the Olu Ode or Head of Hunters. By around 10 pm, these hunters would move through different parts of the community in what effectively functioned as a self-imposed curfew. Anyone found roaming without valid reason risked serious consequences.
It is, therefore, deeply unfortunate that many traditional rulers today across the country have become increasingly powerless. Obas, baales, district heads, village heads and even emirs are now often forced to flee their domains, with palaces destroyed or attacked and, in some tragic cases, rulers and their families killed. Instances abound.
From revered authority to frightened thrones
In Yorubaland, traditional rulers were once expected to protect their subjects and defend their domains by all means possible. Sadly, that era is clearly gone. Today, the aura of reverence that once surrounded them has faded, and they no longer inspire the fear and respect they once commanded.
Yoruba obas of earlier times were not ordinary monarchs. They were believed to possess extraordinary spiritual powers and were regarded as figures almost next to divine authority. The kabiyesis, the “unquestionable ones,” were treated with deep reverence and fear.
Stories from the past speak of such extraordinary powers. One popular account is that of the Orimolusi of Ijebu Igbo, who was said to have survived a plane crash in the 1960s while returning from an overseas trip.
According to the narrative, he mysteriously vanished from the aircraft as it went down and later reappeared on an iroko tree within his domain, from where he descended safely. The spiritual force associated with this feat was known as egbe.
Yoruba obas were also believed to be fortified with protections such as afeeri (invisibility), asaki ibon (bullet deflection), ayeta (bullet dodger) and okigbe (anti-machete), among others—forming part of their spiritual armour.
Yet, today, such expectations appear distant. The killing of two Yoruba monarchs in Ekiti State—Oba Samuel Olusola, the Onimojo of Imojo, and Oba David Ogunsakin, the Elesun of Esun—by criminals on a highway raises disturbing questions. A third monarch, Oba Adebayo Fatoba, the Alara of Ara in Ikole Ekiti, reportedly escaped the attack.
The victims were said to be returning from a security meeting when they were ambushed. Under traditional expectations, such rulers were believed to possess protections that would have made them vanish, repel attackers or turn the violence back on the assailants. Yet none of these protections manifested.
It becomes difficult to ignore the reality that modern monarchs may either have lost such traditional safeguards or have fully entrusted their protection to security personnel who themselves are increasingly vulnerable. Across the country, police officers and soldiers have also been kidnapped or killed by criminal groups.
In recent years, traditional rulers have become frequent targets of abduction, ransom demands and assassination. The killing of the Olukoro of Koro in Kwara State, Gen. Segun Aremu (retd), who was murdered in his palace alongside others, remains a painful reminder of this reality.
Faith, fear, return to practical survival
There have also been recent viral accounts suggesting that armed bandits who invaded a community in Ondo State were found incapacitated within a compound, overwhelmed by what appeared to be unnatural sleepiness. Such incidents are often cited as examples of indigenous protective systems still lingering in modern times.
Beyond traditional beliefs, even religious leaders have begun to acknowledge that prayer alone is no longer sufficient in confronting insecurity. Some clerics have advised congregants not to rely solely on spiritual declarations but to adopt practical means of self-defence, reflecting the harsh reality of repeated attacks on places of worship.
Churches have been invaded, pastors abducted and worshippers killed despite intense prayers and spiritual declarations. This contradiction has forced a reconsideration of the balance between faith and practical security.
Some prominent religious figures now openly adopt protective measures. Many move with armed escorts and travel in bulletproof vehicles, even as they preach divine protection. Others have gone further, offering practical support systems for kidnapping emergencies, including direct contact instructions for victims’ families.
Across religious divides, insecurity remains indiscriminate. Both Christians and Muslims have suffered attacks in churches and mosques alike, underscoring the universality of the threat. Historical references, such as the assassination of former Head of State, General Murtala Mohammed, further reinforce the vulnerability of even the most protected individuals.
None of this negates faith. Rather, it reinforces a simple truth: survival often requires action alongside belief. After all, many of the elements used in traditional protective systems exist naturally within creation; what is required is knowledge and application.
Even modern states, regardless of religious foundation, rely heavily on intelligence, strategy and security planning rather than faith alone.
Ultimately, there is a need to reconsider how indigenous knowledge systems are viewed. Rather than dismissing them entirely, there may be value in allowing space for their open study and application, just as religious institutions openly promote their own doctrines of protection and healing.
In the end, security is too important to be left to a single approach. It demands a blend of faith, knowledge, cultural wisdom and practical action.