By Bolarinwa Ayoola
Yoruba civilization is one of the most unique civilizations in the world, distinguished by its antiquity, distinctive social organization, indigenous education, medicine, and systems of social interaction. It is a civilization with a rich and colourful culture, belief systems, and indigenous development that shaped Yoruba society and the character of the average Yoruba person.
Following centuries of contact with Europeans and Arabs, the transatlantic slave trade, internal conflicts, and decades of British colonial rule, Yoruba land has increasingly come under the dominance of Western ideas, beliefs, cultures, political structures, and lifestyles. These influences have progressively displaced many of the ancient practices, institutions, and social values established by generations of Yoruba ancestors.
A careful examination of history raises fundamental questions about the justification for British colonialism and its purported objective of bringing civilization to Yoruba land. The British colonial enterprise was often presented as a mission to civilize supposedly backward societies. Yet, Yoruba land already possessed an advanced civilization long before British occupation. The Yoruba people had developed sophisticated philosophical traditions, arts, indigenous medicine, commercial systems, iron smelting, and distinctive monarchical institutions of government. The assertion that British colonialism was necessary to civilize Yoruba land therefore deserves serious scrutiny.
Tracing Yoruba lifestyles through their culture and history reveals a predominantly communalist society in which people cooperated and collaborated to sustain a social system that accommodated and protected different classes within the community. The traditional Yoruba social structure prioritized both individual and collective welfare. This was evident in indigenous practices such as Owe and Aaro, through which members of a community supported one another in undertaking tasks such as farming and house construction. These practices were not merely convenient arrangements for sharing labour; they represented a social philosophy built around mutual assistance, collective responsibility, and the conviction that nobody should be abandoned or left behind.
Yoruba families were also closely knit. Families traditionally lived in clusters, with members of several generations occupying the same family compounds or living in close proximity. This arrangement provided a natural mechanism for transmitting knowledge, culture, values, and traditions from older generations to younger ones.
Beyond the transmission of knowledge and cultural heritage, this family structure served important social and economic functions. Older women within extended family households often helped care for newborn babies and toddlers while their immediate parents engaged in economic activities. Similarly, younger family members participated in caring for elderly relatives, ensuring that older people remained within the family environment and were not isolated in institutional care facilities or abandoned to fend for themselves. The family was therefore not simply a biological unit but an important social welfare institution that provided childcare, elderly care, emotional support, and intergenerational continuity.
Jeremy Bentham, the English philosopher of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, described the ideal foundation of society through his principle of utility, which seeks to achieve the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. Central to Bentham’s philosophy was the pursuit of happiness, based on his belief that human beings are fundamentally governed by two sovereign masters: pain and pleasure. In his view, human actions and government policies should ultimately be directed towards maximizing pleasure and minimizing pain.
Following Bentham’s philosophical reasoning, one could argue that pre colonial Yoruba society offers an interesting historical example through which aspects of his theory of collective happiness and social utility can be examined.
As evident in Yoruba culture and social life, celebration, festivals, and communal happiness have traditionally occupied important positions in society. Yoruba people work hard, but they also celebrate practically every significant milestone, whether personal, familial, communal, or collective. Communities, households, social groups, and individuals celebrate their achievements and important occasions, often welcoming family members, friends, neighbours, and even people who were not formally invited to participate.
The significance of these celebrations goes far beyond temporary excitement or entertainment. They strengthen social relationships, reinforce communal identity, create lasting bonds, encourage peaceful coexistence, and reduce social divisions and conflicts. In a society where people regularly share moments of happiness, grief, achievement, and responsibility, social relationships become more meaningful than mere economic transactions.
In contemporary Yoruba society, however, the rising incidence of premature deaths among young people raises serious concerns about the direction in which society is heading. Historically, Yoruba families often had the privilege of witnessing several generations living within the same period. It was not unusual for children to grow up knowing their great-grandparents and benefiting from the wisdom and experiences of elderly family members. Death was generally associated with the departure of the elderly, while the death of a young person was regarded as a tragedy that profoundly affected the entire community.
Older generations often lived long lives, sometimes reaching a century or beyond, providing opportunities to pass accumulated wisdom, experience, and knowledge to younger generations. That reality appears increasingly distant today. Nigeria’s life expectancy remains low by international standards, and premature deaths among young people have become a source of growing concern. Stress, diseases, accidents, and other social and environmental factors contribute to this situation.
The decline in longevity and the growing vulnerability of younger generations should compel us to examine the social, economic, environmental, and lifestyle changes that have accompanied the transformation of Yoruba society. A civilization should not be judged merely by the sophistication of its technologies or the material possessions of its people, but also by its ability to preserve life, promote happiness, protect families, and provide a healthy environment for successive generations.
The Yoruba people, through indigenous knowledge and accumulated experience, developed systems of medicine, laws, agriculture, and social organization that enabled them to sustain their communities and achieve considerable self-sufficiency in feeding their populations. The reality today is considerably different. Yoruba land has become increasingly dependent on external food supplies to feed its population. Indigenous medicine has been neglected, marginalized, and largely excluded from systematic research, institutional support, and adequate funding. Consequently, the health sector has become heavily dependent on external knowledge, pharmaceutical products, and imported medical technologies, while the traditional institutions and authorities that once played significant roles in regulating and organizing society have been reduced to increasingly diminished positions.
This is not to suggest that every aspect of traditional Yoruba society was perfect or that every indigenous practice should be preserved without scrutiny. Rather, it is an argument for recognizing the value of indigenous knowledge and institutions and ensuring that their contributions are not discarded merely because they do not conform to Western models of civilization.
Undoubtedly, European civilization has contributed to certain aspects of Yoruba development. It has introduced advanced technologies, improved communication, influenced developments in healthcare, facilitated modern transportation, and expanded opportunities for Yoruba people to interact with other parts of the world. These contributions cannot be dismissed. However, an important question remains: What is the value of these developments if they come at the expense of the communal spirit that once defined Yoruba society?
Can we genuinely describe the present condition of Yoruba people as positive progress when the food consumed by ordinary people increasingly raises concerns about contamination, chemical exposure, and food safety? What is the importance of technological advancement when the happiness and social contentment of the people are increasingly replaced by economic pressures, anxiety, and relentless competition for material wealth? Of what value is development if people are becoming increasingly disconnected from their families, communities, cultural identity, and traditional support systems?
If Yoruba society in the past was able to secure its people, feed its population, sustain strong family structures, and maintain a society in which happiness, communal participation, service, and good deeds were important measures of individual worth, then we must ask what precisely was the civilization that Britain promised when it seized Yoruba territories and established colonial rule over them.
The question is not whether Western civilization has brought some benefits to Yoruba land. It undoubtedly has. The more fundamental question is whether the overall transformation has produced a better society for the Yoruba people or whether, in the pursuit of Western-defined development, we have sacrificed some of the most valuable foundations of our civilization.
As a people, it is time to undertake a comprehensive audit of Yoruba society to determine what has genuinely benefited us, what deserves preservation and improvement, and what has contributed to our decline as a people. We must critically examine a model of civilization that displaced the communal spirit that nurtured Yoruba society with excessive individualism; weakened our capacity for food sovereignty; exposed our population to questionable food production practices and potentially harmful substances; subjected people to increasing physical and psychological pressures in the pursuit of material wealth; and progressively undermined our indigenous culture, knowledge systems, and traditional institutions.
A civilization that advances technology but weakens human relationships, increases material wealth but compromises collective welfare, and introduces modern institutions while destroying valuable indigenous structures cannot be accepted as unquestionable progress.
The Yoruba people must therefore move beyond the assumption that everything Western represents progress and everything indigenous belongs to the past. We must reclaim the confidence to examine our history, recover valuable aspects of our indigenous knowledge, strengthen our communal institutions, and adapt our civilization to contemporary realities without abandoning the values that sustained our ancestors.
The real measure of civilization should not simply be how technologically advanced a society becomes, but how well it preserves life, protects its people, sustains its culture, promotes collective happiness, and secures the welfare of generations yet unborn.