I want to begin with a memory that is not mine but has been told to me many times. An elder is asked why his grandson should still observe a custom that no one in the city remembers. The elder says: 'Because the river that forgets its source dries up — and because the custom still works. Try it for a year and tell me which is true.' Whether or not it ever happened, the memory teaches what Àṣà is — better than any definition does. Àṣà in a Crisis? The story is the answer.
What Àṣà Actually Means
The most commonly cited definition: 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? That sentence is true, as far as it goes. It is also incomplete. Àṣà is held inside a wider Yoruba grammar — a set of related concepts, social practices, and proverbs — that the standalone definition cannot carry.
A tree without roots cannot stand a storm.Yoruba
The Question This Post Is About
When everything is on fire, Àṣà is what tells you who to call. 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.
Outside the workplace, Àṣà reads differently — and harder. In a household, it is not a leadership philosophy; it is a daily, sometimes irritating, set of obligations. The phone call you owe. The message you have not answered. The relative whose problem is now your problem because no one else is closer. Long-running traditions are audited every few years for whether they still serve their purpose. Àṣà does not let you opt out of these.
A Second Angle
There is a specific application of Àṣà that managers rediscover every few years and act surprised to find: the practice of asking, before any consequential decision, who has not yet been heard from. The question seems procedural. It is not. It is a small Àṣà act, repeated, that changes the temperature of an organisation over years. Long-running traditions are audited every few years for whether they still serve their purpose.
Where the Concept Resists
Àṣà is sometimes presented as the answer to the diseases of Western individualism. It is not, exactly. It is a different answer to a different question. Pretending it is a drop-in replacement for the modern self-help bookshelf does Àṣà a disservice — and the reader, too. The work of taking it seriously is harder than that.
What to Do With This
There is no certificate at the end of Àṣà. There is only the slow accumulation of choices made differently — meetings shaped differently, relationships tended differently, decisions weighed differently. The reward is not visible. The cost is real. Over time the difference becomes a kind of life.