YORUBA language is my identity

By Oluwabukola Oseni

I find it extremely disturbing and rude that whenever I write and dare to lace my work with Yoruba phrases, some people don’t ask politely for clarification, don’t use Google Translate, don’t scroll past in peace.

Instead, they ask often condescendingly…
“Are you writing for only Yoruba people?”

That question is not innocent.
It is derogatory.
And it needs to stop.

Because what you are ACTUALLY saying is that I should erase myself so you can feel comfortable.

Flatten your culture so I don’t have to stretch my curiosity.

And no. Absolutely not.

You don’t walk into a Briton’s space and demand they dilute their accent for you.

You don’t interrupt French creators and ask why they’re speaking French.

You don’t police white people’s language choices with this same audacity.

But suddenly, a Yoruba person must explain herself for sounding like home?

Let’s call it what it is.
This isn’t just rudeness.

It’s covert cultural erasure dressed up as entitlement.
A quiet assertion of superiority.

A demand that my identity be trimmed down to fit your palate.

And I refuse.

When a creator speaks in their language exclusively or interwoven that choice is deliberate.

It is intimacy.
It is memory.
It is texture.
It is resistance.

If you are curious, ask kindly.
If you’re interested, learn.
If you can’t do this, waka pass.

What you will NOT do is suggest subtly or otherwise that I amputate decades of my language, history and self just to prove I “can speak English.”

Don’t you speak English?
Yes.
Excellently.

But I also speak Yoruba.
I think and feel in it.

And sometimes, English simply does not carry the weight of what I mean.

From the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, every fibre of my being is Yoruba.
My poems.
My phrases.
My rhythm.
My pauses.
My metaphors.

Do we have flaws as a people? Of course.
So does every culture on earth.

But anyone who shows up demanding I erase my distance, my tongue, my inheritance?

Please.
Take several seats.

My culture is not an inconvenience.
It is my identity.

And I will not shrink it for anyone’s comfort.

Kì èjè kì oŕi yìn ma pè!