The well-known and much-loved professor of philosophy Sophie Bọ´sẹ`dé Olúwọlé died in December of 2018. Head of the Department of Philosophy at the University of Lagos for many years, she retired in 2000 and devoted herself to the Centre for African Culture and Development (CEFACAD), which she founded and administered.

Although she was from an Edo family, she often focused on Yoruba philosophy. Her published works often focus on the importance of studying the Ifá and the richness of the philosophical insights to be found there. One of her key goals was to reclaim local knowledge and resist the homogenization of thought, and she championed giving philosophical attention to local languages. She also often philosophized about the role of gender in Nigerian society and the struggles she faced as a woman in the field of philosophy in Nigeria.

She had earlier been interviewed about her life story by Ulli Beier (1922–2011), founder and first director of Iwalewa-Haus in Bayreuth, Germany. Sophie grew up in Igbara-Oke, an Edo girl in a Yoruba area (her maternal grandmother was Yoruba). As a child she loved to attend Yoruba ceremonies and would imitate the dances, but her parents, who were both Anglicans, forbade their children to attend Yoruba ceremonies. She and her brother attended clandestinely, but finally stopped because they feared parental punishment and the Christian God's revenge (Beier and Olúwọlé Reference Beier, Olúwọlé, Abodunrin, Obafemi and Ogundele2001, 360–61). The local school headmaster thought she was very clever and suggested that her baptismal name should be Sophia (360). She pursued an academic career, going to Moscow, then Germany, and finally back to Nigeria, where she settled on philosophy. At many stages of her career she fought against the disapproval of authorities, beginning during her student days with her department chair and her dissertation supervisor. Her master's thesis, “Transformational Grammar and Philosophical Analysis,” evaluates the theories of Chomsky and Ryle. She received her PhD from the University of Ibadan, focusing her dissertation, “Meta-Ethics and the Golden Rule,” on R. M. Hare, Kant, and others. She noted that, once she secured a PhD grounded in study of the ancient Greeks, the British analysts, and Kant, she was finally free to devote her career to studying Yoruba philosophy.

To find older African source material uninfluenced by Christian ideas, she taught herself to translate the Odu Ifá, the Ifá religion and divination system's Yoruba oral literary corpus, which has been committed to writing only recently. She brought a fresh perspective to the works by interpreting them as secular reasoning rather than religious beliefs.

She developed her insights in a series of books and articles; her major works are Witchcraft, Reincarnation, and the God-head, Philosophy and Oral Tradition, and Socrates and Orunmila (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé1992b; Reference Olúwọlé1997a; Reference Olúwọlé2017). In her 1978 article on witchcraft, which was anthologized in Albert Mosley's African Philosophy, she carefully carves out an open-minded but skeptical middle ground between those who believe in the efficacy of witchcraft, and those who know that science has disproved it. She notes that the first group could not be completely refuted using the scientific method, since there are some instances where persons have been able to manifest results that could count as empirical evidence and experimental demonstrations, albeit on a tentative, hypothetical level. She notes that physicists have confidence in the reality of the neutrino even though humans are unable to experience and know it directly; rather, they know it from its effects (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé and Mosley1995, 368). She points out that believers in witchcraft claim to have sources of knowledge beyond ordinary sense experience, which challenges a current scientific assumption. She argues that Crawford and other proponents of the scientific method who say witchcraft is “objectively speaking impossible” make a logical error when they deny the reality of an experience that fails to conform to known laws. Even in Western science, the understanding of scientific laws has changed over time (quoted in Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé and Mosley1995, 363). On the other hand, she encourages believers in and practitioners of witchcraft to admit that their practices are not infallible and unchanging, so that they can learn from their mistakes. This emphasis on the tentative nature of knowledge is found throughout Olúwọlé's major works, and in fact she insists that it is a philosophical approach that can be found in the Ifá, the centuries-old teachings of Orunmila.

In her 1992 book Witchcraft, Reincarnation, and the God-head she describes some Yoruba conceptions of reincarnation. But she goes further to discuss empirical studies (including in the United States) that provide (albeit inconclusive) evidence for reincarnation. Noting that some African philosophers she has witnessed have referred to belief in reincarnation as proof that Africans are backward, she clarifies that Africans who hold the view do so not only because it fits in with their metaphysical ideas but also because they have seen “overwhelming empirical evidence” (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé1992b, 52). It is Western materialists, she charges, who hold an irrational position because while they insist that they will believe only in phenomena proven by science, they reject any empirical evidence that challenges their commitment to materialism. However, she clarifies that it is some people, not whole nations, who hold these various metaphysical positions. She wants to avoid the overgeneralizing found in works of ethnophilosophy, while admitting nevertheless that some ideas are more popular in some societies’ traditions than in others. She also bolsters her position in favor of reincarnation by drawing attention to a common description of philosophy, which says that philosophical explanations are rational conjectures based on intuition and experience, and since they are often speculations, one should not think that philosophy deals only or primarily in absolutes (51–54).

Olúwọlé's critical study of sources in the African oral tradition and her studies on H. Odera Oruka's sage philosophy project (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé, Graness and Kresse1999; see also Presbey Reference Presbey2014) share important insights. Though she voices certain critiques and cautions about Oruka's sage philosophy approach, she nevertheless supports continued study of the sages. Olúwọlé says that Oruka “failed to draw a clear distinction between an ancient tradition of African philosophy and contemporary emergent ones” (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé, Graness and Kresse1999, 158; see also Azenabor Reference Azenabor2009, 82–83). She nevertheless thinks that contemporary sages may be deeply influenced by the “style and orientation of ancient philosophers in his society” while dynamically incorporating ideas outside of that tradition (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé, Graness and Kresse1999, 158). In contrast to Oruka, Olúwọlé seeks to learn about that history of thought by analyzing the ideas that came down through oral literature (Presbey Reference Olúwọlé, Falola and Afolayan2017b, 86–87). Olúwọlé also insists on paying careful attention to and engaging in philosophical discussion in African languages. In comparison, Oruka ignores oral literature and focuses mostly on making available and analyzing English translations of sages’ interviews (for more on the importance of “mother tongue,” see Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé2016, episode 1; Presbey Reference Olúwọlé2017a).

In an article she wrote for a collection in Oruka's memory, she says that his most important philosophical characteristic, one she thought other scholars often overlooked, was that “he never equated philosophy with rationality in the sense in which this is conventionally but wrongly interpreted as ratiocination” (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé, Graness and Kresse1999, 155). Instead, she writes, Oruka, while emphasizing the fact that philosophical and scientific principles are rational due to the support of reason and evidence, insists that their conclusions are not logically entailed or undeniable (156). This statement seems to credit Oruka with Orunmila's habit of considering philosophical ideas hypotheses subject to reconsideration.

In Philosophy and Oral Traditions, Olúwọlé champions the study of African oral traditions and criticizes a host of African philosophy scholars who for decades denigrated oral sources. She argues that these scholars unfairly stereotype oral traditions as authority-laden and dogmatic. Instead, she writes, oral traditions in Africa and the “accommodativeness” in African practices are part of a liberal tradition in Africa, not an authoritarian one. Oral stories are dynamic; they are not just memorized, but also analyzed (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé1997a, 62, 70). Her study shows that ancient Yoruba thinkers considered reason an important part of living, but only one of the faculties—among them intuition, sentiment, and emotion—that can help in “attaining intellectual cogency” (92–93, 106–07). Even in this earlier work she highlights the Yoruba tradition as one that promotes egalitarian values (105). In his historiography of African philosophy, Ademola Fayemi Kazeem mentions Olúwọlé and fellow-travelers Oruka, Wiredu, and Momoh as “traditionalists” who “argue for the inclusion of the period of oral tradition and undocumented history as the beginning of the history of African philosophy” (Kazeem Reference Kazeem and Diafwila2017, 298). G. J. Ferguson discusses Olúwọlé's insistence that “Ifá is philosophy” and contrasts her view with that of fellow Nigerian M. A. Makinde, who disagrees with her and distances himself from what he calls “folk philosophy” (Ferguson Reference Ferguson2002).

Olúwọlé wrote many works on the philosophy expressed in the Ifá texts of the Yoruba. Omotade Adegbindin references a 1996 article on the Ifá that appeared in Imódòye, the journal Olúwọlé edited. In that article, Olúwọlé explains that, since the Odù Ifá is made up of sixteen major Odù (literary texts) and 240 minor Odù, these works should be considered “the works of over 256 ancient Yoruba philosophers and intellectuals” (quoted in Adegbindin Reference Adegbindin, Afolayan and Falola2017, 322; Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé1996a, 3). Adegbindin notes that other scholars estimate that there could be thousands or tens of thousands of Odù (Adegbindin Reference Adegbindin, Afolayan and Falola2017, 328). He also argues, as does Olúwọlé, that the Ifá philosophical insights have universal application and are mistakenly considered “traditional” or outdated when their insights are, in fact, still relevant and applicable to today (320).

It is interesting to look at the editorial policy of Imódòye: A Journal of African Philosophy, the publication on which Olúwọlé served as editor-in-chief. One might wonder whether the editorial policy was written by Olúwọlé herself. In its front matter, the journal's stated goal is “the dissemination of the ideas, beliefs, doctrines and other forms of human thought within a particular culture.” To that end, it says, it concentrates on publishing “social and intellectual discussions and analysis classifiable as African.” The editorial policy stipulates that authors should feel free to borrow the ideas of Confucius, Plato, or Russell; however, “the theme of every paper must be relevant to the solution of some African problems of human thought and existence.” The front matter also offers an explanation of the journal's title, which is a compound of two Yoruba words, “Imo” (knowledge) and “òye” (wisdom) that translates roughly to “philosophy.” The compound reflects an understanding of philosophy as “knowledge synthesized to yield wisdom” (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé1996b). The word “Imódòye” was first coined by the Yoruba novelist D. O. Fagunwa.

Several Nigerian scholars have drawn on her descriptions of an African humanistic philosophy, explaining that Olúwọlé successfully showed that African morality does not depend on the gods for the content of its moral theory and the creation of moral prescriptions and proscriptions. In fact, they argue, gods are needed only for enforcement of the moral code. Godwin Azenabor articulates another way in which Olúwọlé's work on moral theory is appreciated. He clarifies the arguments of Olúwọlé and other scholars of Yoruba ethics, who maintain that a moral theory based on a “golden rule” is philosophically superior to a universalizing moral code such as Kant's categorical imperative. They show that a subject who uses reason to universalize a moral rule may end up universalizing a principle that is immoral, an error that can't be made using a moral theory that considers an action's effect on the well-being of the community (Azenabor Reference Azenabor2007; Reference Azenabor2010, 110–34).

In her book Socrates and Orunmila, she explains that Orunmila, who was born around 500 bce in Ile-Ife, is a historical person and a philosopher whose ideas had been handed down orally through Babalawo priests before being written down in the twentieth century. Although he is “a prominent member of the Yoruba Óríṣá Pantheon,” that does not mean he is a god, since the Óríṣá were human beings, revered after death, like saints in the Catholic tradition (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé2017, 46). She calls Orunmila the father of Yoruba philosophy and the Babalawos, (priests of the Ifá oracle) professors of classical Yoruba philosophy. Drawing upon Xenophon's biography of Socrates, she notes that Socrates believed in divination (“the art of knowing God's will”) (39). Although the stories about Orunmila say he was sent from heaven to earth by Olodumare and then went back to heaven, he is best understood as a historical person, and though the sixteen books of the Ifá written by sixteen named disciples do not bear his name, they are considered his philosophy, just as we know Socrates’ philosophy even though he himself did not write (150).

Both Socrates and Orunmila value virtue over wealth and oppose repaying evil with evil. They are also both famous for focusing on the limits of human knowledge. For example, Orunmila wanted to test the assertion of his colleagues that they knew the beginning and end of all things, so he discussed the matter with them, and they eventually admitted that, in fact, only God knows. Orunmila held that it is impossible for humans to have absolute knowledge. Olúwọlé also notes that both Socrates in the Republic and Orunmila in the Ifá have a theory of reincarnation (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé2017, 56, 63, 143). They also both use symbolism extensively (97–98). But there are some topics on which Socrates and Orunmila take opposing views. Olúwọlé notes that, whereas Socrates in the Republic derided democracy for treating slave and free alike, Orunmila said that slaves or nonindigenous persons should not be ill-treated. He also said that government should be run by four groups of persons: men, women, youth, and non-indigenes (63–64, 70). She argues that the Ibadan monarchical system works by having a ruler appointed through a series of political promotions, and that the original home of a candidate does not matter in that system. She claims with pride, “This is a revolutionary democratic form of governance hard to be found in any other part of the world!” (151). But the main contrast between the two ancient thinkers is that Socrates (and Plato) hold a metaphysical theory of binary opposition whereas Orunmila asserts that all of reality has a complementary binary nature and rejects an either/or approach to reality (140).

This leads Olúwọlé to claim that rational African philosophy exists, that it preceded education introduced by Europeans, and that this African philosophy has concepts of reality, knowledge, and either/or logic different from those in the West (148). It promotes dialogue and continuous criticism, not debate and supremacy. Orunmila's philosophy promoted sincere discussion based on cross-fertilization of ideas, along the lines of the contemporary intercultural philosophy movement. (153–54) She is also concerned that Western philosophy, with its system of binary opposition, is incapable of producing a rationally compelling reason for the obligation to respect the equal rights of other humans, whereas binary complementarity is capable of doing so (159). She also thinks Western philosophy engages in logical contradiction when it suggests that paired phenomena can exist independently of each other. How can mountains and valleys exist independently? How can the heads and tails of a coin exist independently (162)? She finds connections to ubuntu philosophy (an African moral system), which claims that a person is a person through other persons. To be human entails the recognition of other humans (162).

There is an intersection between these conceptions of reality and conceptions of gender. She claims that oppositional dualism and the two monistic theories, materialism and idealism, are patriarchal. It is only complementary dualism that is gender-neutral on a social level. Here she walks a fine line; she admits that many African political systems “contained some male chauvinistic views and practices,” but says that this shows only that “there was more than one school of thought on sexism in ancient Yoruba traditions of philosophy” (167–68). It is not unusual for a society to have many opposing views within itself. But she draws attention to ways in which women experienced freedom and equality. For example, there were women members of the judiciary, women masquerade dressers, and women pharmacologists; markets were under the authority of women. These trends lead her to claim, “many thinkers in ancient African societies were more gender-sensitive than the majority of Western philosophers” (169). The ancient Yoruba ideal encouraged youths, foreigners, and women to participate in government, whereas in the US, only rich males are considered to have the right to manage affairs of state (173). On the whole, she thinks, “Malignant Sexism and Male-Chauvinism, in religion, politics and education are imported setbacks” (171).

In an earlier essay, “Womanhood and Feminism in African Traditional Thought,” Olúwọlé draws on Western and African philosophical sources and methods to explain precisely why discriminating against women is wrong. Discrimination is a natural intellectual activity that is not in itself harmful, she explains. For example, noting that the sunlight that reaches the earth directly by day has the same source as the sunlight that reaches earth subsidiarily via reflection off the moon is an example of distinguishing both similarity and difference; subsidiarity is an important difference that is purely objective. But along with these distinctions come value judgments, and subsequently, human practice attaches to these distinctions additional differences of value and identity. In the case of men and women, a simple and accurate description of their differences soon, in practice, leads to human prejudice and bias. As she explains, “To call X a man and Y a woman is to be involved in a purely classificatory discrimination. But to treat Y different[ly] in ALL THINGS just because Y does not belong to the class of X is to be involved in an unjustifiable absolutism” (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé, Abodunrin, Obafemi and Ogundele2001, 225–26). She gives examples from her university experience. Each faculty member receives, as part of their pay, either a residence or a house allowance, a sum of money to pay for a residence. But if a woman faculty member gets married to a male faculty member, she loses the residence as well as the option to receive pay in lieu of a residence (223).

Olúwọlé states that she is also interested in the concepts of womanhood in Western philosophy and Judeo-Christianity. In both cases there is the tendency to think of woman as subsidiary and therefore lesser in worth. But the Yoruba community, and the wisdom and philosophy recorded in Yoruba proverbs and Ifá writings, reject the idea, central to Western philosophy, that knowledge or truth is everlasting. Instead, in the Yoruba tradition, truths remain tentative and time- and context-dependent (227). Additionally, “the Yoruba view of life does not consist of classifying objects or human experiences into permanent classes meant to symbolize specific values” (228). For example, Olúwọlé interprets the Yoruba proverb, “Out of the black pot the housewife produces white maize pap,” as meaning that a good action could surprisingly come from a person considered bad, or vice versa, and so one should refrain from prejudgment (228). Likewise, women and men do not have permanent qualities of good or evil. Due to this way of thinking among the Yoruba, women are not conceptualized as unable to think or lead; there can be “a philosopher-queen” (229), and the excellence of women, especially as mothers and as contributors to the economy, is regularly recognized (228). She justifies gender complementarity and explains that in Nigeria, due to their role as mothers, women took up particular occupations like spinning, weaving, and pot-making.

Western feminists might point out women's underrepresentation in political positions and point to rules barring women leaders (Iyalode or Erelu) in Ogboni or Osugbo fraternities until they have reached the age of menopause as examples of discrimination, but Olúwọlé disagrees. She notes that even Western democracies have rules about who can hold office; for example, people cannot run for President of the United States unless they are at least thirty-five years old. (I was surprised that she made this comparison, since the age limits in the United States apply to both genders equally.) And though the proportion of women representatives on African traditional councils is smaller than the proportion of women in the population, Olúwọlé insists that even one woman's voice can affect the whole assembly if and when she speaks for all women. Olúwọlé quotes a Yoruba poem from oral tradition (written down and translated in 1973 by S. Obande) that reads in translation: “Without the Erelu (that is, the female representative) The Osugbo secret society cannot operate” (230). She also argues that much of the discrimination against and oppression of women in Nigeria, which she admits is “undeniable,” is due to “modern civilization.” She points out that Christian churches marginalize women more than traditional Yoruba religions do, which had female priests (232–33). She also notes that the intersectionality of the racial, ethnic, and class dimensions of oppression causes women to have multiple sources of oppression, sometimes at the hands of other (elite) women (233).

Her argument here on the indispensability of women for political rule, even when men hold the top positions, is something that Andrew Apter had explored in his 1992 book Black Critics and Kings. In a chapter called “Sacred Kingship and Female Power” he describes the annual Yemoja festival. Yemoja is a goddess of fertility, nurturing many children, self-composed and dignified. Her festival incorporates a ritual of empowerment performed by the High Priestess of Yemoja, the other priestesses of the Yemoja cult, and the Priestess of the god Shango. In Yoruba culture, the King is second to the gods, and he gets sacred power to rule from the Óríṣá. Royal ritual, financed by the king, aims to please the Óríṣá. Fed with sacrifices and flattered by drummers and performers, the Óríṣá then give the king power, “like a recharged battery” (Apter Reference Apter1992, 99). In the Yemoja festival ritual, the King depends on the prayers and therefore the support of the Yemoja cult priestesses in order to live and rule successfully. If they withdraw their support, he will not live. The King wears a beaded cap, and the King's wife wears a beaded crown with a beaded figure of an egret (representing female power, royalty, and guardianship of witchcraft).

During the ceremony, the King is praised for bringing the sacrifice, but he is also warned that if he is guilty he will lose the support of the cult, which would lead to his deposition. If the women withdraw their support, the King will find a symbolic object in the calabash that the High Priestess brings to him that will signal to him that he should commit suicide (109, 114). (This warning perhaps serves to suggest that he should work all year for women's approval.) The highlight of the festival is the “Day of Carrying Water,” the fourth day after the sacrifice. The High Priestess of Yemoja, the Yeyeolokun, who is dressed in white cloth of ritual purity and greeted with an address usually reserved for kings, proceeds from the bush shrine through the market to the king's palace, carrying Yemoja's power in a sacred calabash on her head. Salt is sprinkled on the ground, and water is poured on the High Priestess's feet. The High Priestess and other priestesses offer water at the gravesites and major shrines on their way to the palace, where the king awaits them. The High Priestess faces him and turns away three times, then the King places his hands on her and trembles. In this way he is “recharged.” Without support and confirmation from the Óríṣá Yemoja, the High Priestess, and the women of the Yemoja cult, the King could not rule. The calabash the High Priestess carries is either set down next to the king's crown or goes to the Yemoja shrine. Then the Shango priestess is mounted (possessed) by Shango, and she prescribes collective sacrifices to avert immanent misfortune (103–06).

Neither the US nor Europe has a ritual that so dramatically points out the extent to which a male ruler's power depends on the blessing or commendation of a group of women and/or a female spiritual being. This lack shows that the politicized Western ideal of power through proportional representation misses some of the nuances of power. The Yemoja ritual reminds the male ruler that the power of women is so awesome and frightening that, even though they do not hold office, his actions must defer to them. As Western political systems demonstrate, mere numbers do not correlate with power; although women comprise a greater percentage of the population and do hold office in Western cultures (albeit not proportionately), men do not fear women's power, and routinely ignore women's issues. By extension we can imagine a realm where men holding political positions are more numerous, yet are still considerate of women's issues because the power of women to influence men does not correlate to their numbers in office. Although representation is a key element of power, it is not the only factor, nor in some cases the most important one.

The ways Yoruba society and the Ifá's teachings result in a gender-neutral or equal-status complementarity is a topic worthy of further study. Of course, the concept of genderlessness in Yoruba culture has been explored in the works of sociologist Oyèrónké Oyĕwùmí, who argues that in the Oyo Yoruba society, status was determined by language, lineage, professional identities, and seniority and that sexist value judgments were absent in the cultural tradition (Oyĕwùmí Reference Oyĕwùmí1997). Nkiru Nzegwu, in her book Family Matters, also defends the idea of complementarity as she sees it in the Onitsha community in Nigeria, insisting it does not have negative connotations of domination of women (Nzegwu Reference Nzegwu2006, 219–22). Olúwọlé does not cite Oyĕwùmí (or Nzegwu) but she does cite Oyeronke Olademo's book, Gender in Yoruba Oral Traditions (Olademo Reference Olademo2009). There, “Binary complementarity” is described as the Yoruba conception “of reality as that of one binary element, whose existence is inseparable and functions are interdependent,” and this concept of binary complementarity underlies Yoruba mathematics, philosophy, and sciences (cited in Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé2017, 140). So, Olúwọlé's support of complementarity is not only or perhaps not even primarily about gender, but since it has implications across the board for all fields, it also has implications for gender. Olúwọlé cites sources in African philosophy and history that trace binary complementarity back to ancient Egypt/Kemet, and it is also found in the philosophy of the Igbo, the main ethnic group in the eastern part of Nigeria (the Yoruba are mostly in the southwestern part of the country) (141). She draws upon Bantu sayings included in Magobe Ramose's book on ubuntu, and finds parallel sayings in the Ifá, to show that both uphold a description of reality as binary complementarity (161–62). Olúwọlé contrasts both ancient Greek and Bible stories that blame Pandora's and Eve's blunders or disobedience for the subsequent difficulties or lesser status of women with the Yoruba creation stories in which a woman was the first to discover knowledge, which is why women easily take leadership positions in African traditional religions (166–67).

A recent anthology that addresses the marginalization of women in the field of African philosophy contains several articles that cite and appreciate Olúwọlé's work. Mesembe Edet notes how women are often marginalized or disregarded in accounts of the history of African philosophy; he writes that, even when Olúwọlé is mentioned, the mentions are too brief, and that scholars should pay more attention to her major works, which offer new avenues of insight into the nature of African thought (Edet Reference Edet, Chimakonam and Toit2018, 161–63). Uduma Odi Uduma notes that Olúwọlé was one of only four female professors of philosophy in Nigeria (the other three being “Dorothy Olu Jacobs (Ucheaga), Ebun Oduwole and Ashiata Bolatito Lanre-Abbas” (Uduma Reference Uduma, Chimakonam and Toit2018, 221). Renate Schepen points out that Olúwọlé explained that, since men dominated the traditional Yoruba literary sphere, “women's views were either not recorded or downplayed” (Schepen Reference Schepen, Chimakonam and Toit2018, 85) (as is the case in Western literature as well), which means that, from Olúwọlé's perspective, the organization and reproduction of knowledge of both traditional Yoruba culture and institutionalized colonial education ended up marginalizing women (85).

Alison Jaggar and Iris Marion Young invited Olúwọlé to write the chapter “Africa” for A Companion to Feminist Philosophy. In that article she began by noting that one could not discuss “the development of African feminist philosophy” without first surveying the history of the recent development of the field of African philosophy in general (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé, Jaggar and Young2000, 96). While doing so, she described her approach as that of scholars she called “critical traditionalists,” who explore the topics of reincarnation, destiny, witchcraft, God, and truth, which are perennial unanswered questions in both Western and African philosophy (101). She ascertained that in academic settings like philosophy departments in Nigeria and other African countries, feminist philosophy had hardly been studied due to lack of texts, and on this point, she advocated the study of songs, proverbs, liturgies, and stories that can convey traditional worldviews about women and their relationship to men. But she states that sociological description of the differing roles of men and women in African societies is not in itself feminist African philosophy (105). To understand “the African brand of sexism,” philosophers must identify and challenge “the basic African assumptions about the nature of reality, man, woman, and knowledge such that they can critically examine the intellectual edifice on which African types of sexism are or were based” (106). She wants philosophy scholars to focus on human thought, not just social action, and then to collaborate to create “an adequate African worldview that justifies male–female equality” (106). Her later work Socrates and Orunmila attempts to do just that. Readers of Hypatia may be interested in additional works on African feminism by Olúwọlé (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé1992a; Reference Olúwọlé1997b, Reference Olúwọlé2006; Olúwọlé and Ṣófolúwẹ` Reference Olúwọlé and Akin Ṣófolúwẹ`2014).Footnote ¹

During her life, Olúwọlé was often in the news; since her death, she has received even more news coverage. According to a Nigerian news station, Olúwọlé was often called “Mamalawo,” an adapted title or “nickname which was … the female version of the Yoruba word ‘Babalawo’—a spiritual title which denotes a priest of the Ifá Oracle,” used in response to her having been the first female to earn a philosophy PhD in Nigeria (Channels Television 2018).

Her obituary in The Guardian (Nigeria) includes a long list of tributes from colleagues at the University of Lagos and other universities. In addition to her influence on the field of philosophy, as an administrator she brought systemic change to the University of Lagos. Professor Duro Oni stated that Olúwọlé was the first female Dean of Students at that university. Professor Rotimi Olatunji, Dean of the Lagos State University School of Communication, recounted that when Olúwọlé was Acting Dean of the School of Communication there, she crafted a new BSc in Mass Communication that required students to take a couple of philosophy courses, “thus exposing Mass Communication students to philosophical tools to enhance academic and professional competence … demonstrating that there is philosophy in every discipline” (Olatunji, in Nwakunor and Daniel Reference Nwakunor and Daniel2018). Olatunji mentions lively faculty meetings in which Olúwọlé applied a more inclusive Africanist perspective to challenge current thinking, as when she pointed out “a strong parallel between binary scale, the modern computer and the Yoruba Odu Ifá” (Olatunji, in Nwakunor and Daniel Reference Nwakunor and Daniel2018). A filmmaker from the Netherlands, Juul Ver Der Laan, is currently making a documentary exploring Olúwọlé's philosophy (Lasisi Reference Lasisi2017).

Olúwọlé has also left behind a large online presence. There are many videos of her television talks currently posted on YouTube. For example, in a six-part series called Oro Isiti, she explains the importance of Ifá and compares and contrasts Socrates and Orunmila, among other topics (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé2016). There is also an hour-long interview with her conducted by Adesina Anidugbe and Tunde Sodeke on the OGTV show Hot Seat (Olúwọlé Reference Olúwọlé2014). Clearly she was an academic who reached out to a broad community through a variety of media and venues. Her contemporaries have written extensively on her philosophy. Godwin Azenabor's Reference Azenabor2010 book, Modern Theories in African Philosophy, refers to her works throughout. Ademola Fayemi Kazeem says Olúwọlé's record of academic accomplishments should inspire more African female professors to join the field (Kazeem Reference Kazeem2013, 169). When one looks at the writings and videos she left us and reads memorials in which writers insist that her influence lives on in themselves, one can't help but be impressed by the extent of her influence on the field of African philosophy up to now. However, insofar as her works have not yet been widely known and studied on an international level, one can only hope that her ideas will continue to challenge and enlighten philosophers globally.