Oya Iyansan

The Tearer arrives; the palm fronds tear. Oya don’t play. She guards the cemetery gate with a sword in one hand, a whip in the other. Where her husband Shàngó is the thunder, Oya is the lightning and stormwind. Her sacred place is the market and her sacred animals are the bull, goat, pigeon, and black hen. When Shàngó’s ego gets out of control, Oya checks him. She’s also the only Òrìshà who risks standing up to Yemoja. At some point in the past, Yemoja guarded the cemetery and Oya the sea, but Yemoja tricked Oya into swapping Purviews. Oya grew into her new role, but never forgave Yemoja. She may not relish warfare like Shàngó or Ògún, but she’s always ready for a good fight. She’ll tear into you with an evil grin on her face and as much excitement as if she were dancing in the club.

Oya dresses like a superhero: rainbow outfits, capes flapping in the wind whether or not there’s any wind that day. Describing her Incarnations as “riverboat captain” or “meteorologist” doesn’t quite capture the impact of seeing lightning illuminate her standing on deck during a storm, or seeing a twister sweep over her and lift her, cackling with glee, into the sky. She’s one of the most popular Òrìshà, and she deserves it, because she’s a fuckin’ badass.

Oya’s Scions are flashy and fearless, ready to speak truth to power and look good doing it. You might have heard of Omolara Muḥammād, the Wall Street whistleblower who lost her job at a leading brokerage firm because she investigated her superiors for a crime they did, in fact, commit.