By the Gods!

Sango

Alright, let me level with you here: when it comes to the mythic structure of the Yoruba religion (the Yoruba being one of the largest ethnic group in West Africa), I’m not exactly in my comfort zone. I’m familiar with the concepts, but the specifics are new for me, as I’d imagine they’d be for many of you. That said, we’re setting on the proverbial goldmine of interesting info, so let’s dive in by talking about Sango, the god of thunder and lightning, and the progenitor of the Yorubas themselves.

Sango (also Shango) has a variety of stories floating around about between different cultural groups, and it’s difficult to hammer down any consistency in the myths, but there was definitely somethin’ going on with those wives of his, Oba, Oshun, and Oya. Sango had three wives and three families, who in some stories he lived with at the same time in the same compound, thus creating the first Full House scenario centuries before it would be popularized and perfected by Saget and Stamos. 

In one of the Yoruba stories, Sango is trying to get rid of his powerful and ambitious generals, Timi and Gbonka, by pitting them against each other. Each of them wields the power of fire, and after what can only be an incredible elemental battle (á la Avatar: Last Airbender, probably) Timi is slain. Gbonka then asks to be burned alive, and is reduced to ashes. However, three days after his death, he is resurrected (alert: be aware of diffusion and popular mythological facets being borrowed and reused between cultures!). His resurrection shames Sango, who then leaves town and takes his own life, supposedly. It was the hope and belief of the Yoruba, however, that he did not truly kill himself, but instead left to watch over the people from on high. The followers of Sango would kill any who claimed that the god had taken his own life with the lightning they had been allowed to wield by their now-gone lord.

In Haitian Vodou, Sango is seen as a more powerful god of thunder and lightning, but the Yoruba stories venerate him as a legendary, mostly-human founder of their line, and attribute fewer omniscient qualities to him, instead seeing him as a holy ancestor. As we’ve seen before, it’s only natural for a degree of deification to filter its way into veneration in polytheistic and/or natural religions. Hey, when I think about my great-great-grandfather, you’d better believe he’s shooting fire from his fingers and riding a manta ray through the sky.