She is the Whirlwind and the Mysterious Wind.
She is the winds of the earth and the winds of the ancestral realm.
A gentle breeze—or a raging force, crashing like a bull.
Mother of the Child of Nine.
Controller of those who wear the ancestral masquerade.
She is justice, and the fierce warrior companion to Shango.
She is the stillness before the storm—the mirage of quiet.
She is the exchange of energy in the marketplace, the turning wheel of ebb and flow.
She is the tearing sound in the sky.
When I was on tour, we were everywhere.
At one point, I believe we were in Poland. The winds were out of control—so strong they lifted the stage structure into the air. Everything was chaos. Nelly turned to me, half-joking, half-serious, and said,
“Let’s see how powerful you are as a witch. Make the winds go away.”
I took it as a challenge.
I asked the runners to bring me eggplants and ribbons. I gathered the dancers. We tied the eggplants tightly with the ribbons—like leashes, like we were about to walk them. It looked absurd, but it felt right.
I instructed the dancers:
Spin nine times in one direction, then nine in the other. Repeat it nine times. As they spun, they whipped the eggplants through the air above their heads, cutting through the wind—pushing the clouds back.
And it worked.
The storm broke. The show went on. We celebrated that night like nothing had happened.
Nine days later, we were in Romania.
Another outdoor show. Bigger crowds. Higher stakes.
And then—without warning—the sky split open.
Lightning. Rain. Wind.
This time it wasn’t playful.
The storm tore through everything. Nelly’s dressing room—gone. Designer pieces, borrowed couture—lifted into the sky and swallowed by the wind.
I stood there, almost exhilarated by it. The power of it. The presence.
Nelly didn’t feel the same.
Something shifted in her after that. Fear replaced curiosity. She started looking at me differently—like I had done something wrong. She called me a “messy witch.”
But let’s be honest.
Oya came back for what was hers.
Among the things that disappeared was a silk dress—African-inspired, flowing in rainbow colors. A wind dress. An Oya dress. The designer had created a whole collection inspired by the Orishas. Nelly wore another from that same line—a Yemaya dress—in All Good Things (Come to an End) music video.
But that rainbow one?
That one belonged to the wind and somewhere out there, the storm still carries it.
And Oya knows…
It was me who gave it to her.
---
This is self igniting incense. No charcoal needed! Simply light on fire and enjoy :)
She is the Whirlwind and the Mysterious Wind.
She is the winds of the earth and the winds of the ancestral realm.
A gentle breeze—or a raging force, crashing like a bull.
Mother of the Child of Nine.
Controller of those who wear the ancestral masquerade.
She is justice, and the fierce warrior companion to Shango.
She is the stillness before the storm—the mirage of quiet.
She is the exchange of energy in the marketplace, the turning wheel of ebb and flow.
She is the tearing sound in the sky.
When I was on tour, we were everywhere.
At one point, I believe we were in Poland. The winds were out of control—so strong they lifted the stage structure into the air. Everything was chaos. Nelly turned to me, half-joking, half-serious, and said,
“Let’s see how powerful you are as a witch. Make the winds go away.”
I took it as a challenge.
I asked the runners to bring me eggplants and ribbons. I gathered the dancers. We tied the eggplants tightly with the ribbons—like leashes, like we were about to walk them. It looked absurd, but it felt right.
I instructed the dancers:
Spin nine times in one direction, then nine in the other. Repeat it nine times. As they spun, they whipped the eggplants through the air above their heads, cutting through the wind—pushing the clouds back.
And it worked.
The storm broke. The show went on. We celebrated that night like nothing had happened.
Nine days later, we were in Romania.
Another outdoor show. Bigger crowds. Higher stakes.
And then—without warning—the sky split open.
Lightning. Rain. Wind.
This time it wasn’t playful.
The storm tore through everything. Nelly’s dressing room—gone. Designer pieces, borrowed couture—lifted into the sky and swallowed by the wind.
I stood there, almost exhilarated by it. The power of it. The presence.
Nelly didn’t feel the same.
Something shifted in her after that. Fear replaced curiosity. She started looking at me differently—like I had done something wrong. She called me a “messy witch.”
But let’s be honest.
Oya came back for what was hers.
Among the things that disappeared was a silk dress—African-inspired, flowing in rainbow colors. A wind dress. An Oya dress. The designer had created a whole collection inspired by the Orishas. Nelly wore another from that same line—a Yemaya dress—in All Good Things (Come to an End) music video.
But that rainbow one?
That one belonged to the wind and somewhere out there, the storm still carries it.
And Oya knows…
It was me who gave it to her.
---
This is self igniting incense. No charcoal needed! Simply light on fire and enjoy :)
