I was listening to Mãe Márcia de Obaluaiyê, my dear mãe de santo, sharing her stories this past weekend when she began talking about Iansã, also known as Oyá. Mãe Márcia is devoted to this powerful orixá who rules over storms and goes to war.

In one of the itãs, as mythological accounts are called, Oyá possessed a power and a secret: she could transform into a buffalo. However, one day, while hunting, Ogum saw a beautiful buffalo shed its skin and reveal itself as Oyá.

He was amazed and, while the warrior was working at the market, stole the buffalo skin and hid it. Ogum, who already had other wives, then asked Iansã to marry him. She was convinced and went to live with him.

Being a woman as fiery as dendê oil, her overwhelming arrival in Ogum’s community sparked jealousy among his wives. One night, they got Ogum drunk, and he revealed Oyá’s secret and where he had hidden the buffalo skin.

Ogum’s wives began to taunt Oyá with malicious comments about her and the animal. They did not expect, however, that this would enrage the orixá, who found her buffalo skin, put it back on, and trampled and gored Ogum’s wives and the entire community.

Before fleeing from Ogum, Iansã left a pair of horns with her children so that, in times of need, they could summon her by striking one horn against the other, and she would come to their aid as swiftly as lightning. This summarized version of one of Iansã’s most famous stories makes me reflect on the obstacles that powerful women face in expressing their strength.

The theft of the buffalo skin by Ogum allows us to consider how men may become disturbed by and seek to weaken women who captivate them with their strength—precisely the trait they desire to take away to control them.

It is a paradox in the lives of those who engage with strong-willed women. They admire them yet wish to dominate and extinguish the fire that draws them in. In the case of the deity, this act of stripping her power was accompanied by a marriage proposal.

When I think about the other wives who were unsettled by Oyá’s arrival, I recall my sister Grada Kilomba’s words about the nymph Echo from Greek mythology, condemned to repeat only the last words spoken by Narcissus.

What I mean is that if a woman’s power disturbs men—who hold patriarchal power—it also unsettles women who thrive whenever a blazing fire is extinguished.

On the night of the drunken revelry, I see the betrayal of Oyá’s trust, with the revelation of her secret, as an alliance between those who felt threatened by her sovereign power.

Yet this orixá, who governs justice alongside Xangô, regains her strength when she confronts injustice and humiliation. She becomes a buffalo once more, devastating everything around her and setting off into the world.

But before leaving, she ensured that her children had the tools to communicate with her, showing that even the fiery temperament—often perceived as reckless in this orixá—is accompanied by deep care for her offspring.

Like the wind, this orixá traveled the world and lived many adventures. One itã tells us that she lay with the orixás and learned a secret from each of them. From Exu, she learned magic; from Oxóssi, she learned to hunt; and from Xangô, she learned to breathe fire. She only did not lie with Obaluaiyê, her dear friend, whom she once helped by blowing wind through his straw coverings, revealing his beauty, as radiant as the sun.

From her lovers, she received many gifts, but it was alongside Xangô that Iansã led armies, forming alliances with powerful kingdoms—ones that the mighty ancestral king of Oyó had never been able to approach. To honor her, we say “Eparrei!” and ask that her courage and justice protect strong women, helping them persevere despite many obstacles.

I take this opportunity to congratulate the São Paulo Academy of Letters for the initiative taking place on July 17 in São Paulo, at the Municipal Park of Cordeiro. Forty trees of native species from the Atlantic Forest will be planted in a gesture of environmental appreciation.

I salute my fellow member Leandro Karnal for the brilliant idea, my friend José Renato Nalini, Secretary of Green and Environment, and the president Antônio Penteado Mendonça for this wonderful initiative. I will be there for the planting, to honor the occasion, and for the harvest, to celebrate.

Originally published in Folha de S. Paulo on July 11, 2024.