We should all hate buzzwords. Not just because they’re annoying (they are), but because they can be dangerous. Actually, scratch that: they can kill. Think I’m exaggerating? Stay with me, for a story I was told as a child.
A long time ago in Ile-Ife, a town in what is now southwestern Nigeria, peace-loving people lived under the protection of brave warriors. The people were proud and content, especially the women. Among them, none was more beautiful than their queen, Moremi.
Then came a deep crisis: spirit-like raiders began attacking every five days, kidnapping villagers and vanishing into the unknown. Panic spread. The once happy town was now breaking apart.
Queen Moremi, though safe in the palace, saw her people being stolen away. She wanted to help. But when she offered, the king and his chiefs dismissed her. She wasn’t a warrior. In Yoruba, the mother tongue of the people of Ile-Ife, the word for the bravest frontline leader is Asiwaju. By every known standard, Moremi didn’t qualify. She had no weapons, no training. To them, Moremi couldn’t be an Asiwaju, yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had something to give.
So the next time the monsters came, she let herself be captured. At the enemy’s camp, she ensured she caught the king’s eye and soon became his favorite wife. For three long years, she was committed to his cause. When he trusted her completely, she asked: who are the spirit warriors, really?
The king laughed. They weren’t spirits at all. They were men, disguised in palm fronds and raffia, counting on superstition to win the war without a fight. If fire touched their disguise, they would fall like anyone else.
With this knowledge, Moremi escaped. She returned to Ile-Ife, rallied her people, and armed every warrior with fire. The next time the raiders came, they were met, not with fear but with flames. They were defeated and there was no more death and captivity for the people of Ile-Ife.
The King and Council of Chiefs at Ile-Ife never imagined that an Asiwaju could look like Moremi. They were trapped in the buzz of the word that they forgot what it meant. Moremi did not lead with a sword, but with wisdom and strategy. She went ahead (the literal meaning of Asiwaju) but in a different way.
That’s the problem with buzzwords.
A buzzword is a word that once held deep meaning, but overuse has stripped it of its power.
This rant about buzzwords really began after I listened to an insightful conversation on the Women Emerging Podcast about the limitations of words, especially in the English language, to adequately capture the essence of words like leading and propel us in the right direction. On that episode, 12 women translated an agreed definition of leading to their various mother tongues. In these translations, they revealed the messiness, clarity, force, and humility of the word in ways English rarely holds. You have to listen here.
Afterwards, let’s talk.
About your language.
About the ways you’ve gone ahead of others, even when no one else called it leading. I’ve begun the conversation in the comments.
In Yoruba, “Asiwaju” means “the one who goes ahead,” risking everything for others. It’s often about bravery in battle, but it’s also about sacrifice. For Moremi, going ahead was about sacrifice, wisdom and strategy. What’s leading in your language?