There is a temptation, when writing about a concept like Àṣà, to make it noble. To treat Yoruba / Nigerian thought as if it were uncomplicated wisdom waiting for the modern reader to catch up. Àṣà and the Difficult Manager? The honest answer requires resisting that flattery. Àṣà is real philosophy. It has internal tensions. It can be misused. It still rewards close reading.
What Àṣà Actually Means
Translators usually settle on something like: Àṣà is a Yoruba word for tradition, custom, or culture — but with a particular emphasis. Unlike a Western reading of 'tradition' as fixed inheritance, àṣà names tradition as practice — the continuous, adaptive doing of what has been found to work. It includes language, ritual, food, dress, courtesy, and the unspoken protocols of community life. It is the answer to the question: what do we keep doing, even as everything changes? It is a defensible translation. But translation is the surface. Àṣà carries underneath it a set of assumptions — about what a person is, what owes what to whom, and what success even means — that the English sentence cannot deliver.
Àṣà ni iwà.Yoruba — Tradition is character.
The Question This Post Is About
A composite case: the manager whose problem Àṣà would diagnose differently. The question is worth taking seriously, because Àṣà is one of those concepts that loses its shape when handled carelessly — and recovers it as soon as the reader is willing to slow down and listen.
Take a small, ordinary case. A team of nine. A project that was supposed to take a quarter is now in its second. The manager has the option to find a single person to assign blame to and to move on. The Àṣà reading offers a different question: what did we, as a team, fail to make possible for the person carrying this work? Long-running traditions are audited every few years for whether they still serve their purpose. The case is not unusual. The reading of it, in the spirit of Àṣà, is.
A Second Angle
Notice what the case is not asking. It is not asking who is to blame. It is not asking how to make the situation more efficient. It is asking what Àṣà would have us do here, with these particular people, in this particular knot. Long-running traditions are audited every few years for whether they still serve their purpose. The discipline of asking the Àṣà question — instead of the efficiency question, or the blame question — is what changes a working life over years.
Where the Concept Resists
There is a real risk in romanticising Àṣà. The Yoruba / Nigerian traditions that produced it have always also produced internal critics — voices warning against the misuse of communal philosophy to demand conformity, to silence the young, to protect bad behaviour by elders. The honest defender of Àṣà keeps those critics at the table.
What to Do With This
What can you do with this? Begin small. Choose one place — one meeting, one relationship, one daily ritual — and run it through Àṣà for a month. Not as a project. As a quiet experiment. Notice what changes. Àṣà is not learned by reading; it is learned by repetition.