Yoruba contributions to modern culture: How Bata gave birth to Salsa

By Jordan Peters

THE year is 1301 AD, the calm of dawn is interrupted by the sound of drumbeats starting soft, like the whisper of a lover in the ear. Suddenly, the sound of drums grows louder, urgent, calling with the rhythm of the bata. Each stroke seeming to echo Sango’s heartbeat, each sound sparking the lightning in his chest as Sango’s army marches to victory.

Alaafin Sango, Oba Koso, son of Oranmiyan and third Alaafin of the Oyo Empire dressed in his resplendent crimson robes, spun and leapt, his every movement a story, a command, an offering as he led the soldiers of Oyo into battle.

For Sango, dance was not mere motion but devotion—a sacred communion between body and spirit. And of all dances, Sango cherished Bata the most, its syncopated beats mirroring the pulse of his battle cry. Sango established the Oyo Empire as a force to be reckoned with, leading them into many wars and emerging triumphant. Historically, Sango brought prosperity to the Oyo Empire during his reign.

In an interview granted before he went to join our ancestors, the longest-reigning Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Lamidi Olayiwola Adeyemi III recounted that Sango was a man of valour, purpose and master of diplomacy who became king when the Oyo Empire was at its formative stage, surrounded by mighty, warlike states such as Nupe, Ibariba and Owu.

Today, the neocolonialists want to say that salsa has no father. That may be so, but we know its mother: the Bata drums, the same drums that called to Sango; that moved his feet with the power of thunder and lightning. The Colonialists who banned and stigmatized traditional African practices now appropriate the same practices in new forms.

The history books tell us that at the height of the Transatlantic Slave Trade, long after the time of Alaafin Sango, at a time when internal wars raged within the Oyo Empire. At a time when young Yoruba men and women were captured and sold as slaves, separated from kith and kin, taken across the Atlantic. These sons and daughters of Yorubaland called on Sango, Oba Koso, in dance and song as they fought to survive in the plantations of the New World. They shared Bata with both slave and slave master alike. Therefore, through the tragic accident of history, migration, cultural diffusion, the enslaved Yorubas took their music, their drums, their rhythms and their dance to faraway places like Cuba and Brazil.

Bata drummers/performers

Bata provided the foundation for Salsa’s percussive elements; Sango heard their cry, the rhythms and movements of Bata survived and adapted in the New World, especially in places like Cuba and Brazil, metamorphosing into the local musical forms and religious practices that exist today. Bata and Salsa converge in their approaches to rhythm, form, and movement.

Similar in their philosophical, stylistic, historical, and spiritual dimensions, Bata and Salsa share a common root in the Yoruba diasporic experience. Bata is the keeper of ancient wisdom, a ritual that honors origins and roots. Salsa, on the other hand, is an example of cultural evolution. Like a first child, Salsa inherited the language, mythology and religious practices of Bata, most especially it remembered Alaafin Sango.

Recent attempts to appropriate and rewrite the historical origin of Salsa were challenged in a Court by Intellectual Property Lawyers Association Nigeria. A team of lawyers led by the intellectual property giant, towering at almost 7 feet, Arakunrin Folarin Aluko. The case wasn’t just about slavery or a historical correction, it was about protecting a traditional cultural expression. It was about ownership, pride, recognition. It was about honoring the ancestors who, in their resilience, had preserved something so sacred, even when stripped of everything else. Bata is not just a dance; it is the essence of a people, a link to the past and a bridge to the future.

Over the weeks, the trial became a dance of its own, a choreography of legal arguments and counterarguments, of ancient rhythms and modern laws. Witnesses were called—great historians, dancers, drummers- Alagba Seun Awobajo Innovator of Bata Wajo style, Ogbeni Omolade Dalmas, among other greats. The courtroom was transformed into a stage where the past and present collided. Expert after expert took the stand to trace the cultural threads that tied Bata to Salsa, weaving a tapestry that spanned several seas and centuries.

In the end, the court acknowledged the undeniable link between Bata and Salsa, a relationship like that of a parent and child. The Court of Law pronounced “Bata is in the DNA of Salsa”. It was a victory, affirming Bata’s legacy in a world where the story of the hunt is often reserved for the hunter.

* Peters, a renowned singer, songwriter, and guitar practitioner, is CEO of GreatMinds Multi Services