Ojude Oba: Culture, Crowd, and the Cost of Going Viral
There’s more to Ojude Oba than glittering agbadas and viral horse parades. Beyond the spectacle lies a cultural heartbeat. As more eyes turn to Ijebu-Ode each year. The real question echoes louder: Can the soul of Ojude Oba survive its growing fame?
This year, I spoke to two individuals whose perspectives offered different ,yet connected views on what Ojude Oba really means. And while their experiences varied, they both reflected a deep appreciation for what the festival stands for. History, family, celebration, and heritage.
“It’s the experience” — Temitayo’s Take
Temitayo Ogunbanwo represents the experience from the outside looking in. He first attended in 2024 and returned this year for his second round. When I asked why he came back, he simply said, “To experience the culture of my Ijebu People.” His father, being a representative of the Ijebu constituency, gave him easier access to the venue.The most interesting aspect, he says, came from sharing it with friends.
He describes Ojude Oba as entertaining and immersive, an all-day event that starts around 10 a.m. and runs until evening. For him, it’s a gateway to Ijebu culture. “You see the royal families, the horse riders, the gunpowder salutes, and you hear real Ijebu music,” he said. “You watch history live.”
One of his standout moments? Watching an 11-year-old girl ride a horse last year, and this year, a boy of just seven doing the same. “It was wild to see how horses even move to music,” he laughed. “It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined witnessing outside of Ojude Oba.”
When I asked if social media truly reflects what the festival stands for, Temitayo answered yes, at least visually. “You can’t possibly see everyone there in person. Online, you get to experience the colors, the attire, the vibe , globally.” Still, he acknowledged the practical strain it brings.Overcrowding, stress on local infrastructure, and the concern that the growing buzz might overwhelm the very community it celebrates.
He believes the festival should remain open to all, but also suggests the need for more structured planning. Possibly with sponsorship or staging, to accommodate the swelling crowd. “If I’m free next year, I’ll go again,” he said. “But this time, I’m showing up in a more exquisite outfit.”
“It’s ancestral” — Yewande’s Perspective
While Temitayo shared the modern observer’s lens, Yewande Arigbabu gave me the heartbeat. As a horse rider and a descendant of a Balogun warrior family, she carries the festival in her lineage. “When we think of Ojude Oba, we think of horse riding, of honoring the king, of connecting with family.” she said. “There’s history in every step we take. and in every gallop.”
Yewande comes from the Balogun Odunuga line, warriors who once fought colonial forces to defend Ijebu land. “Every Balogun has at some point fought a war,” she tells me. “When you see someone riding a horse at Ojude Oba, that’s not just for show, that’s heritage.”
She explains that Ojude Oba literally means “in the presence of the king.” and the horse parade is a symbolic homage to His Royal Majesty. Before reaching the palace, the Balogun families follow a specific route.Stopping to honor ancestral homes and traditional chiefs along the way.
The festival, she said, once had names like Ita Oba and Odeda. It began as a Muslim celebration by slaves permitted to practice their faith under the protection of the Ijebu king. Over time, it evolved to include traditional rulers and Balogun warriors, thanks to figures like Balogun Kuku. Who embraced Islam and helped shape what is now Ojude Oba.
Today, it’s no longer a religious celebration alone. “It’s a cultural remembrance,” Yewande insists. “Even though we’re no longer fighting wars, the horse rides are our way of honoring those who did. It’s not about gender either, if you’re a Balogun, you ride.” Noting that her grandmother was also a rider.
She describes the relationship between Balogun and their horses as sacred. “My family has 8 to 10 horses. We name them, raise them, and talk to them. Some even dance. When a horse dies, it’s like losing a part of the family.” There is no horse without a Balogun and no Balogun without a horse.
What We’re Losing to the Lens
When asked if anything has changed over the years, Yewande doesn’t hesitate, while trying not to come off pessimistic. She answers,“It used to be more intimate. Now, it almost feels like a show.”
She recalls a particular moment this year,after a family’s formal presentation, another family arrived, led not by a Balogun, but a popular actor. “The crowd erupted. They weren’t cheering the family; they were cheering the celebrity. It distracted from the meaning. That’s not what Ojude Oba is about.”
It’s not that she’s against recognition, but the fear, she says, is that the essence is being diluted. “There are rules about who enters the palace, when, and how. But now, everyone wants to be seen. Some people just want to ride horses with no ancestral ties.”
She expresses concern that the festival might outgrow its space. “The palace square is where it has always been held; that’s the meaning of Ojude Oba. To move it elsewhere, just for convenience, risks detaching it from its soul.”
Still, her favorite part never changes: horse riding. “That’s when you see people talking to their horses, hearing historical stories through regalia, swords, parades. That’s culture in motion.”
When asked what she hopes to pass on, she says: “The history. These traditions hold the stories of how we survived war, colonization, and struggle. Keeping them alive means keeping ourselves alive.”
So, What Is Ojude Oba Reaully About?
It’s a question without a single answer. However somewhere between Temitayo’s wide-eyed joy and Yewande’s rooted pride, lies a truth: Ojude Oba is a celebration of legacy. A cultural offering. A living history book. And while it may shine brighter under social media’s spotlight, its soul lives in those who remember and protect its story.
Let the Regberegbe shine in color. Let the Baloguns ride with honor. But let us never forget: it’s not about going viral, it’s about going home.