Oya

Oya, known in Brazil as Iansã, is the Orisha of the winds, of storms, of radical change and transformation. She is the force that sweeps away the old to make room for the new, the storm that clears the sky, the fire that consumes in order to purify. In the Yoruba tradition, Oya is revered as one of the most powerful Orishas — one whom even the other Orishas respect and fear. As guardian of the gates between life and death, Oya governs the cemetery and the passage that releases the soul. Her power is so great that it must be called upon with absolute respect. Her presence is felt in the winds that precede great changes, in the storms that renew the earth. Oya is also associated with the marketplace, with commerce, and with turns of fortune. She can take what we have in an instant — and bring unexpected abundance. Her nature is unpredictable as the wind: now gentle, now destructive, always transforming.

Oya is associated with dark red, brown, and at times purple or stripes, representing intense fire, the earth, and transformation. Her number is nine or its multiples, and she governs the winds, storms, cemeteries, marketplaces, and all sudden change. Her day is Wednesday. In the Cuban tradition her feast is February 2nd, syncretized with the Virgin of Candelaria. Her elements include the wind, fire, lightning, the stones of lightning, the eruexim (horsehair fly-whisk) and the buffalo horns, and all that represents swift movement and change. In nature, Oya dwells in cyclones, strong winds, electrical storms, lightning strikes. She is present in every wind that changes direction, in every sudden transformation. Oya’s most important symbol is the sword — representing her power to cut, to separate, to transform — together with the iruke of black horsehair with which she works for the dead. The cloths she whirls in rite symbolize the winds she commands.

The source tells the opposite of abandonment: Oya was the only one of Shango’s wives who followed him in his flight to Tapa at the end of his reign — and when he withdrew beneath the earth at Kossô, she did the same at Irá. The wind has another origin: she becomes wind when her parents keep her from leaving the house with her jewels. And fire another still: Shango sent her to fetch the potion of the Bariba, and she, disobeying, drank of it too. (Verger, Orishas, p. 59; Prandi, "Iansã foge ligeira e transforma-se no vento" and "Oiá usa a poção de Xangô para cuspir fogo".) The Tratado Enciclopédico keeps the story of how Oya became owner of the cemeteries (p. 637). When the lands of the world were divided, Yemoja received the seas and Oshun the rivers — but Oya, a captive when the roll was called, was left without a domain. Oshun wept and pleaded before Olofin, and only one place remained without an owner: the cemetery. To make her sister happy, Oya accepted gladly — and to this day she is the mistress of the graveyards. The copper pieces of Oya, says the entry, symbolize Oshun’s sacrifice. Her nine comes from being a mother nine times — Ìyá omo mésàn, hence Oya — and Verger adds the nine arms of the Niger delta. The cult of the eguns has a priesthood of its own, that of the ojé; the babalawo is a priest of Orunmila and of the oracle. They are distinct offices, and what the tradition gives Oya is authority over the eguns, not the office of calling them up. (Prandi, "Oiá recebe o nome de Iansã, mãe dos nove filhos", and s.v. Ojé; Verger, Orishas, p. 60.)

Oya’s devotee develops an intense, transforming relationship. Oya allows no half measures — either one gives oneself fully, or she passes through like a gale, taking what stands in the way. She answers those who need strength for radical change, who are passing through deep transformations, who must leave the old behind without looking back. Oya’s children usually have intense, passionate, unpredictable personalities. They struggle with routine and excessive stability, often drawing constant change into their lives. They are natural protectors, especially of women and the marginalized, and have a strong connection with themes of death and rebirth. What each case requires belongs to the babalawo’s table — not to a website.

The sword is Oya’s deepest symbol — representing her power to cut ties, to separate what is joined, to defend with ferocity. What she whirls is the eruexim, the horsehair fly-whisk with which she drives the eguns to the other world; and on her shrine rest the buffalo horns, the animal she was before she was a woman. (Prandi, s.v. Iruquerê; Verger, Orishas, p. 61.) Dark red and brown represent the fire that consumes, the earth that receives what was consumed, and the transformation born of that meeting. Red is passion and destruction; brown is earth and renewal. Together they compose a palette of intense power and earth made fertile by fire. Oya’s nine has a source, and it is the same story that gives Ogun his seven: the iron rod split into seven parts the men and into nine the women, and during the chase the two touched each other at the same moment. On the name the two sources diverge, and we show both: Verger derives Oya from Iyámésàn, "the mother turned into nine"; Prandi, from Ìyá omo mésàn, "mother of nine children". Verger adds the nine arms of the Niger delta. (Verger, Orishas, pp. 42 and 60; Prandi, "Oiá recebe o nome de Iansã, mãe dos nove filhos".)

Oya teaches that change is the only constant, and that resisting it is how we cause our own suffering. She reminds us that sometimes we must be swept by the wind, burned by the fire, to be reborn in truer forms. In the Ifá system, Oya is the force that prevents stagnation, that keeps life flowing. To honor Oya is to embrace change with courage, to know when to let go, to recognize that destruction can be creative. The 256 Odus often remind us, through Oya’s stories, that feminine power is a force of nature not to be underestimated. May Oya’s wind carry away what no longer serves you, may her fire purify you, and may her strength sustain you in times of transformation. May you learn to dance with change instead of resisting it. Jekua Jey Yansa!