The recent passage of the Oyo State Council of Obas and Chiefs amended bill by the House of Assembly has been hailed in some quarters as a step toward revitalising the Council. But such praise is profoundly misplaced. Far from being inclusive or reformist, this bill is a calculated political manoeuvre—one that distorts Yoruba tradition, undermines legitimate royal institutions, and silences long-established thrones.
Several respected traditional rulers within the State have already voiced their opposition to the bill, criticizing its lack of proper stakeholder engagement. Their objections call to mind the Latin maxim, “Nihil de nobis, sine nobis”—“Nothing about us without us.” That such a bill, which directly affects the traditional institution, was advanced without full consultation of the traditional rulers it impacts is not just undemocratic—it is deeply disrespectful.
One of the most contentious aspects of this amendment is the inclusion of the 11 recently elevated Olubadan High Chiefs, whom I find difficult to refer to as Obas, as permanent members of the Council. This move has created an imbalance in the representation of traditional institutions, not only across Oyo State but more disturbingly within Ibadanland itself. The controversial High Chiefs, the Crowned Obas without domains, have been granted seats in the Council at the expense of actual traditional rulers of ancient towns across the 6 Local Government Areas known as Ibadan Outer Cities. The traditional rulers of historic towns like Iroko, Ijaye, Ido, and Lalupon – communities that have had reigning Obas for generations, with centuries-old histories, are meant to represent their local governments in the Council of Obas. But instead, the bill displaces and pushes aside their royal voices in favour of some high chiefs who do not govern any domain or territory. In contrast, the traditional rulers of these displaced towns oversee real communities, uphold tangible traditions, and serve as the cultural and spiritual heads of their people.
Historically, towns like Iroko, Ijaiye, and Ikereku were integral members of the House of Chiefs in the old Western Region during the 20th century. Even after the Oyo State Chieftaincy Law 2000 altered their representation to a rotational basis, their status as ruling Obas remained intact. It is both shocking and unjust that the current House of Assembly sees fit to sideline and strip them of even this limited participation and replace them with Ibadan High Chiefs who neither hail from, nor reside in the local governments they are meant to represent.
What we are witnessing is not reform. It is erasure.
Towns like Ijaye and Erunmu—once formidable centres of authority during the Oyo Empire—are now being effectively erased from the map of traditional governance. Their Obas have been pushed aside, while non-ruling Ibadan High Chiefs — without territorial authority — take their place at the table of Yoruba leadership. Contrary to popular belief, these towns are not mere Ibadan suburbs; many predate Ibadan itself and are grouped under Ibadanland purely for administrative convenience. By sidelining reigning Obas with legitimate thrones and domains in favour of politically elevated chiefs, the state government is not promoting inclusion—it is actively dismantling it.
This is not a reform; it is historical revisionism, one that redefines traditional institutions through a political lens.
To suggest that the Olubadan and his High Chiefs can speak for the entirety of Ibadanland as a zone is not only constitutionally questionable but traditionally disingenuous. The Obas of these communities are not subordinate figures; they are custodians of unique identities, traditions, and histories. Subsuming them under a single palace structure—whether for administrative ease or political control—is an affront to the diversity and integrity of Yoruba kingship.
What we are witnessing is not progress. It is regression. The bill, under the guise of reform, appears to be a mechanism rewarding political loyalty at the expense of fairness and historical accuracy. The Council of Obas and Chiefs is not a political reward system. It is a cultural institution rooted in centuries of royal legitimacy and ancestral responsibility. Its composition must reflect historical truths—not current political agendas.
This bill must be opposed—legally, morally, and culturally.
True reform would ensure that every local government with a crowned Oba has direct representation in the Council. It would respect the unique histories of all communities, not conflate them under one palace for the convenience of the state. Tradition cannot be rewritten to serve the ambitions of a few. Oyo State cannot afford to let short-term political interests distort its rich traditional architecture. History will not look kindly on a government that traded thrones for titles.
Again, this bill is not reform. It is regression. And it must not stand.
Dolapo Azeez writes from British Columbia, Canada. He can be reached via prince.adedolapo@yahoo.com.
