Rebuilding Palaces by Damilare

Rebuilding Palaces by Damilare - January 2026 Scholarship Essay

The greatest piece of advice I’ve ever received was given to me in a language I can’t speak:
“Ile oba to jo ewa lo busi”.
When a king’s palace is burned down, the rebuilt palace is more beautiful.
After a long day of Sunday school, memory verses, and snacks, my brother and I had one mission when we returned home: play a game called Talking Tom. Tom had a feature that repeated whatever you said in a high-pitched, silly voice. We’d sing all the Yoruba gospel songs we heard hours before, just so we could hear his amusing tune and laugh. Although we butchered the language and had no clue what we were saying, we were eager to learn about our culture and share it with whoever had the misfortune of listening to us.
“Ile oba to jo ewa lo busi”.
When I switched from a public school to a private, Catholic school in sixth grade, I started to feel self-conscious about my Yoruba culture. I went from being around many other Nigerian peers and proudly sharing my culture to being one of only two Nigerian students in my grade. I shortened my name because it was “too much of a hassle” for others to say. The only other Nigerian kids I knew were in my family, or friends at church, but even then, there was a disconnection between us. Throughout middle school, I allowed my peers to mispronounce my name and make ignorant jokes at my expense. I never spoke about my culture, just to not make them uncomfortable. I was losing every single value my parents had taught me, along with crucial parts of my identity, and the match that would lead to my biggest fire was lit. In a wildfire of self-doubt, the palace of my identity was burned down.

“Ile oba to jo ewa lo busi”.
Coming into high school, and watching my peers freely express themselves, I felt a strong sense of longing. I became aware of how badly I had let my identity slip away. I stopped packing sandwiches, instead choosing cultural foods, even when I was criticized because of the smell. I taught my teachers how to properly say my name, even if they never seemed to remember. I took these responses as conversation starters, so I could educate them about my culture. Slowly, I pieced my palace back together.
“Ile oba to jo ewa lo busi”.
As I grew more confident in myself, I started to notice the patterns of my younger self- mirrored through others in my community. It wasn’t enough to rebuild my own palace; I had a duty to help others rebuild theirs. I saw a lack of African representation not only in my school, but in Catholic schools in my area, so my close friend and I started my school’s first African Student Association. With this, I’m able to share my culture with my entire community and provide a safe place for others who also struggle to express themselves. By being among the first African Student Associations in our archdiocese, I’m proud to celebrate African culture throughout my school and leave a legacy that will spread throughout my community.
“Ile oba to jo ewa lo busi”.
When a king’s palace is burned down, the rebuilt palace is more beautiful.
Although I haven’t always known its meaning, this proverb has unconsciously shaped the way I view life. Yoruba values were being passed down to me in a way I never understood until I started to apply those same principles in my own life. Through every future challenge or uncertainty in my life, I know that I will emerge from it as a better version of myself. I’m eager to go through the fires in my life because I know that they will lead me to the much more beautiful palace that awaits me after the flames.
“Ile oba to jo ewa lo busi”
When a king’s palace is burned down, the rebuilt palace is more beautiful
I want to help others rebuild theirs.