Good afternoon, everyone. For today’s blog post, I want to discuss a crucial theme I noticed reading Aganju and Yemaja, nature is violent.

Aganju and Yemaja is a perfect example of a creation myth. Aganju and Yemaja are the children of Odudua and Obatala. The story says, “The name Aganju means uninhabited tract of country, wilderness, plain, or forest, and Yemaja, “Mother of fish” (yeye, mother; eja, fish). The offspring of the union of Heaven and Earth, that is, of Obatala and Odudua, may thus be said to represent Land and Water.” (Penguin pg. 168). The siblings marry and have a child named Orungan (Air), who falls in love with Yemaja and assaults her, which causes the creation of 15 new Gods.

This is where I believe the theme that Nature is violent really shines through. After Orungan sexually assaults his mother, she attempts to flee from him. “Orungan, however, rapidly gained upon her and was just stretching out his hand to seize her when she fell backward to the ground. Then her body immediately began to swell in a fearful manner, two streams of water gushed from her breasts, and her abdomen burst open…” (Penguin pg. 168). These two sentences depict truly jarring body-horror. Yemaja explodes after her being savagely taken advantage of – and her annihilation birthed deities representing natural occurrences like vegatables and different African rivers – but also human ideas like wealth and war.

This made me ask myself why, like so many other creation myths I’ve read in the past, the myth of Aganju and Yemaja depicts the creation of the world as we know it as such a disturbing event. I’ve mentioned in blogs of the past that the natural world exists under an equal parts chaotic and serene state. The natural world lacks the order we crave in human civilization; the “wild” isn’t governed. I mean, there’s a reason why we call it “the wild” or “wildlife.”

I apologize because I don’t have a clear enough idea of the relationship between violence and nature to end the post on a clear and concise note, but I do believe that we should ask ourselves to make a distinction between human violence and the violence of the natural world. For centuries, Americans alone have been using terms like “beasts” and “animals” to describe their enemies or people “below” them. The violence that humans commit on other humans is different than the violence that occurs in the natural world – but the comparison has done nothing to help us understand the world better. If anything, this type of language only works to solidify the absurd ego imbalance we are all accustom to.