Oya

After the scent of Gaea faded I turned to Oya. I had at different times loved this scent more and less. This time I discovered I had reached the bottom of the imp, which is in fact the reason why I want to give her some space here now. Because it may take some time before I shall be able to wear her scent again.


From the moment I heard about Oya (the orisha goddess Oya) I liked her. I especially liked her connection with winds, with tornadoes and hurricanes. BPAL gives her quite some space when they describe Oya. I  like to quote the complete text here:

Lady of the Wind, Goddess of the Nine Skirts, the Lady of War, the Bearded Amazon, the Thundermaiden. Beautiful, tempestuous, elegant and graceful, She is the fury of the hurricane, the breath in our lungs, the air that cools us, the breeze that chills us, the winds that blow seeds that fertilize the land, the winds that pass disease throughout villages and townships, the moan of the wind within the cemetery, and the fury of the tempest that tears the landscape asunder. Oya is the sweeping wind of change and upheaval, She is revolution and progress, and She forces the destruction of old ideals while sweeping away our useless baggage; the broom is a symbol of Her force for change. As the Mistress that commands hurricanes, cyclones, and tornados, she tears down that which is old and decaying, compelling Her children to begin building anew. 

In Her hands She holds a mask, as Her presence is most often felt and not seen, and none have seen Oya’s true face. She is the moment at which the seasons change, the transition from life to death, and as the Lady of the Cemetery, it is to Her that we commit our final breath. Her closest friend is Iku, the Orisha of Death, and it is their responsibility to see to it that the natural order remains undisturbed. Once a man’s final breath is expelled, Oya takes it to Iku, who brings the spirit to the cemetery gates and then to its next passage. One of her symbols is the bed, as nightly we imitate death in sleep. Because of her close relationship with Death, the Goddess is very close to the Egungun, the spirits of our ancestors.

Oya is the Goddess of the Marketplace in which fortunes and goods spin in a never-ending whirlwind of exchange, change, and flux. She is the wind that precedes the thunderstorm, and it is in this that She is seen as Shango’s companion and partner in battle, and without Oya there is little that Shango can accomplish. She fans the fires of Shango’s blazes and is the forked lightning that touches the treetops.

Proud and willful, Oya is also a Goddess of War. Her wrath is so terrible and so devastating that none may behold her rage and survive.

Oya has nine children and nine colors, and her symbols are weathervanes, windmills, kites, balloons, propeller planes, wind instruments, pinwheels, two naked swords, and buffalo horns.

Oya’s ofrenda is a Nigerian potion of love and war, sweetened by darkest plum. Oya winiwini!

Her scent is rather spicy and I think I also smelled the plum in the little bit that was left in my imp, a plum like I can smell in Mme Moriarty. I wonder why I did not like this scent very much for some time. Perhaps I was not happy with the powers of Oya then.