Nigeria’s Yoruba Naming Ceremony and the Gift of Belonging
- Promise Ojokoh
- Sep 22, 2025
- 4 min read
Editor’s Note: In this article, Nigerian writer Promise Ojokoh reflects on the Yoruba naming ceremony, known as Ìkosèwàjù Ọmọ, or “the child’s stepping forward.” The Yoruba are one of the largest ethnic groups in Nigeria, with rich traditions that connect family, food, and community. Naming, in this context, is more than a formality—it is a celebration of identity, continuity, and care. Each name carries blessings for the child’s life, while the gathering itself affirms that to live well is to be rooted in community and culture.
In Yoruba culture, when a child is born, it is more than just the arrival of new life. It is something everyone far and near celebrates. One of the most important parts of this celebration is the naming ceremony, called Ìkosèwàjù Ọmọ. This means “the child’s stepping forward.”
I know this tradition not just from observation but from being an insider myself. I am Edo and Yoruba by heritage, my mother is Yoruba, and I was given my names in such a ceremony. I carry seven names, including four Yoruba names. I am also the first-born in my family, so I witnessed the naming ceremonies of my three younger siblings as well. I still have baby photos from my own naming ceremony, and sometimes I look at them to remind myself of how that day tied me into my family’s story. Even though I was too young to remember the day, the photos keep the memory alive for me.
Why the Ceremony Happens on the Eighth Day
The naming usually takes place on the eighth day after birth. In those first seven days, the child is celebrated quietly, and prayed for, but only on the eighth day is the baby officially welcomed to the world.
I still remember how our house came alive during my siblings’ naming ceremonies. Family members traveled in from far away, and even neighbors across the street joined in. That support, love, and presence always forms the heart of the ceremony.
The event is also full of symbolism. Elders (usually older uncles) bring items like honey, salt, water, kolanut, and alligator pepper. Each item carries a blessing and spiritual meaning: honey for sweetness, salt for resilience, pepper for courage. These are not just ritual items. They connect to everyday Yoruba life, where food and values go hand in hand, reminding us that wellness is about what we eat and how we live.
Food, Music, and Laughter
No naming ceremony is complete without music and food. Drummers play rhythms people will dance to, everyone smiles and the air is full of laughter. Plates of jollof rice, pounded yam, and egusi soup are shared, with soft drinks passed around until everyone is satisfied.
As a child experiencing the naming ceremonies, I loved how the whole street seemed to come alive on those days. It was never just about the baby. Eating and dancing together is an important part of the culture. Sharing food and celebrating together is also a form of communal well-being. It nourishes the body and strengthens the bond within the community.
The Meaning of Names
The calling out of the names was always the fun part. Every member of a family could give a name to the child, so one baby might end up with close to twenty names. Each name is considered a prayer for the child’s wellness and a source of good luck, which is why they are so important. That is also why Yorubas everywhere in the world carry special names with deep meaning. During the ceremony, the head of the gathering calls each name out, one by one, and everyone responds with prayers for the child.
A name isn’t just for show. It tells you where you come from. As Damson Idris once said, “It’s funny when you say ‘Adamson.’ I was named after my granddad Adam Alade Idris, father of all nations… Alade means ‘He who was crowned.’”
Some names are even more special because they tell a story about the child’s place in the family. For example, Yoruba twins are always called Taiwo (Taye) and Kehinde. Taiwo means “the first to taste the world,” while Kehinde means “the one who comes after.” A child born after twins is often named Idowu, and the one that comes after Idowu is called Alaba. These names are more than labels. They are important markers of history, spiritual belief and family order. They remind everyone that each birth is part of a larger story.
Writer Oyinkan Braithwaite once explained it this way:
“Yoruba people have a custom of naming twins Taiwo and Kehinde. Taiwo is the older twin, the one who comes out first. Kehinde, therefore, is the second born twin. But Kehinde is also the older twin, because he says to Taiwo, ‘Go out first and test the world for me.”
Outside Nigeria
Even outside Nigeria, Yoruba families in the diaspora keep the tradition alive. I once attended a naming ceremony in the UK where the baby was born to Yoruba parents who were immigrants. They tried their best to keep the tradition alive with the order of the ceremony, the music, and the food. This is a reminder that traditions can travel, adapt, and still hold meaning.
More Than a Ceremony
For me, the Yoruba naming ceremony is not just about welcoming a baby. It is also about identity, because the names given at the ceremony follow you for the rest of your life and carry the “good luck” we believe they bring.
My dad once told me:
“Whenever I call your name, I’m reminded of your purpose in life.”
This is why names matter.
In a world where so many people feel alone, the Yoruba naming ceremony carries a simple truth both practically and spiritually. To be named is to be loved and rooted in culture and community. A naming ceremony is so more than tradition—it is the first gift of identity, belonging, and purpose in life.
About the author: Promise Ojokoh is a writer and culture-keeper from Nigeria, of Edo and Yoruba heritage. He finds home in stories that weave together identity, heritage, and belonging.
