“Oñi”-she said. 

“Oñi Adda”- she finished. 

As the Yoruba Priestess, my Iya, spoke my new name for the first time and I felt absolute bliss. It was a small room and it smelled like sacred herbs. The lighting was perfect as two medium sized windows let the light in for the “reading” of the sign that would define the rest of my life. Yorubas do not need a “sacred book”. Our Scriptures are embedded in the bark of trees, our epic poetry is sung by ancient rivers, our ceremonies are encoded in binary form in sand. My brother Ol’Obatala Ogiyan Ofagunmi Omo Awo Ifagbemi (Alden Bush) had spoken these words to me in a conversation about our Yoruba tradition once and they ring true to this day. 

Yoruba is one of the most ancient religions on Earth.  I felt like the name being spoken -“Oñi Adda” -in such an old language- was being spoken by the atoms of the planet itself. Somewhere in a dark moist cave the name had been born “Oñi Adda” and whispered by the wind, traveled on top of Yemaya’s waves in the ocean, and made its way to my Godmother’s lips: Oñi Adda. 

“Miel y Machete” one of the Santeras in the sacred room translated to Spanish. However, the name itself means so much more than just an edible substance produced by bees and a sharp blade. Oñi speaks of Orisha Oshun. The great Goddess and Queen who used honey to lure Orisha Oggun out of the jungle. Oshun has been portrayed by Eurocentric discourses as a prostitute. However, in Yoruba religion, Oshun is  a queen and under her rule the people were well taken care of. She is a leader and she won wars for her people by going into battle herself. Her beauty did not signify an absence of strength, intelligence, and diplomacy skills. Oshun saved the World by being the only one willing to sacrifice herself to reach the Sun and deliver a message for her people to the Highest Orisha: my people will perish if you don’t send rain. 

That is how in Yorubaland, Oshun means honey but it also means leadership. Her love for her people being so powerful that she would cut off heads in the most merciless of manners while laughing loudly if needed to protect her nation. She is the Goddess of honey, of fertility, and of romantic love, but she is also to be feared. Oshun is strong, powerful, and a warrior when needed. As I heard the vibration of the name “Oñi” I knew what it meant. I knew what I was being called to manifest, and I sat up straight with pride but not arrogance, with humility but not humiliation.

 I had been set free. Through the Presence of the Goddess within me, her Ashe upon my head, I had become a Woman. Free to embody all of the duality that holistic womanhood entitles one with: both fierce and tender. Oshun was sensual but she was not objectified. Through sisterhood with Yemaya she had avoided being raped by a male and was granted her own kingdom. Yorubaland has the most ancient evidence of womanism. This was my new name and it empowered my soul to Be. 

Oshun was certainly an empowered female and also a relentless great negotiator. That’s where the machete comes in. 

Adda. Machete. A sharp blade. The name spoke of hard work. The machete was used by my ancestors that were enslaved to bring profit to a master, by my more recent ancestors the sharecroppers oppressed by the land owners, it had been also used by those that fought for their freedom with the only weapon they had: the machete. So, this how the machete historically is also a symbol of rebellion against oppression and the revolutionary movement. In my case,  it invoked the presence of Father Oggun. The warrior God of steelwork, of work in general, and an old man who preferred to live in solitude in the jungle.

 Oggun is my father and he was in charge of cutting off with his machete whatever hindered the growth of the good plants, whatever got in the way of opening a path to progress, and whatever was opposite to achieving products from hard work. Oggun is the presence of a muscular, strong, Black man. Unapologetic. He aided his people with the vast knowledge his dedication to hard work had developed in him. However, he prefers solitude to dedicate himself to his craft. He would interact  with others to be of service to them. Oggun is strong, wise, knowledgeable, the embodiment of hard work. And yes, he is feared. Not in the way racism has led bias to take over and produce fear of the black male as a “dangerous” person, as a “criminal”. No. Fear as in respected for his knowledge, his power, and his strength. He knows the ways of nature and how to live in complete harmony with it. He knows it so well that he favored it over life in society. 

It was Oshun who achieved the great enterprise of getting him out of the jungle. She used a machete herself to go into the jungle. A beautiful Queen, skin as dark as ebony, long black kinky hair, a golden crown on top, the curves of a river evoked by her silhouette, entering the jungle with a machete in hand. She persevered until she found him. Once her eyes set on him, she used honey to lure him out. She didn’t yell, she didn’t fight. Her diplomacy was successful. Oggun came out and married her. They served the people together. It was a powerful match then and it was a powerful match within me now. 

Oñi Adda. I dared repeat at the time. Iyawo Oni Adda I became that day. Iyawo meaning I was a young one in the tradition, Iyawo until I arrived to my first year anniversary since becoming officially a Yoruba practitioner. Iyalosha after. Iyalosha Oñi Adda now and forever. Iyalosha meaning I am no longer a newborn. Iyalosha meaning that like millions of Yoruba women before me, I had manifested the Ashe. I had received the power, of Yorubaland and took a new name to call upon to remember who I was born to be on the planet my ancestors discovered honey at using it to heal many ailments, and lure stubborn men. Where we have been  using machetes for centuries to make a way. Where we had been listening to the rocks talk way before any books were written. 

 A week later after my initiation ceremony I had returned to my home. After 7 days of ancient sacred rituals, I stood at my door and said three times:

 “Oñi Adda, Oñi Adda, Oñi Adda”.

I claimed it as my identity and in return I felt the breeze coming in and whispering:

 “Ashe, Ashe, Ashe”.