There is a particular way the word Àṣà arrives in modern conversations. It is invoked, often, as a slogan — pinned to a wall in a corporate office, dropped into a leadership keynote, printed on a tote bag. Àṣà and the Decision That Could Not Be Reversed? The slogan version of Àṣà is easy to admire and easy to ignore. The actual concept, the one that has shaped Yoruba / Nigerian life for generations, is harder. It demands more. And it is, I think, more useful.
What Àṣà Actually Means
The most commonly cited definition: Àṣà is a Yoruba word for tradition, custom, or culture — but with a particular emphasis. Unlike a Western reading of 'tradition' as fixed inheritance, àṣà names tradition as practice — the continuous, adaptive doing of what has been found to work. It includes language, ritual, food, dress, courtesy, and the unspoken protocols of community life. It is the answer to the question: what do we keep doing, even as everything changes? That sentence is true, as far as it goes. It is also incomplete. Àṣà is held inside a wider Yoruba grammar — a set of related concepts, social practices, and proverbs — that the standalone definition cannot carry.
A tree without roots cannot stand a storm.Yoruba
The Question This Post Is About
A high-stakes decision walked through with Àṣà as the guide. The question is worth taking seriously, because Àṣà is one of those concepts that loses its shape when handled carelessly — and recovers it as soon as the reader is willing to slow down and listen.
Take a small, ordinary case. A team of nine. A project that was supposed to take a quarter is now in its second. The manager has the option to find a single person to assign blame to and to move on. The Àṣà reading offers a different question: what did we, as a team, fail to make possible for the person carrying this work? Long-running traditions are audited every few years for whether they still serve their purpose. The case is not unusual. The reading of it, in the spirit of Àṣà, is.
A Second Angle
Notice what the case is not asking. It is not asking who is to blame. It is not asking how to make the situation more efficient. It is asking what Àṣà would have us do here, with these particular people, in this particular knot. Long-running traditions are audited every few years for whether they still serve their purpose. The discipline of asking the Àṣà question — instead of the efficiency question, or the blame question — is what changes a working life over years.
Where the Concept Resists
There is also the question of authority. Who gets to speak for Àṣà? The traditions in which it lives are old, plural, sometimes in disagreement with each other. Anyone — including the writer of this essay — who claims a definitive reading is overreaching. The careful reader treats every restatement of Àṣà, including this one, as one voice among many.
What to Do With This
If you are new to Àṣà, the most useful place to start is not with a study or a course but with a question, asked of yourself, at the end of an ordinary day: who held me up today, and whom did I hold? Sit with the answer. Do not improve it yet. The concept will deepen on its own, repeated, over weeks. This is how Àṣà actually enters a life.