As I knelt on a bamboo mat in prayer, a gentle breeze blew through the gallery. Cool yet comforting, I interpreted it as a sign that all would be well. Even though I was deep in prayer, the honour of being surrounded by a group of six powerful black women in Santa Cruz, Trinidad, was not lost to me. As the collective of women raised their voices in song to praise Olodumare (God), Esu, Oshun and our ancestors, I could not help but reflect on my spiritual journey from Catholicism to Ifa. I thought:
‘Ah yes, Ifa was the right step for me. I am discovering me.’
Growing up as a Roman Catholic, the road to accepting Ifa/ Orisha was not an easy or light-hearted decision. There is a palatable fear associated with embracing traditional Africa religions as they are viewed as primitive practices and labelled ‘demonic’ (Crosson, 2019). I grappled with the uncertainty of walking this spirituality. I was plagued by questions such as why am I afraid? Where did this fear originate? Do I really believe, as a priest once told me, that my father would go to Hell when he died because he practiced Ifa/ Orisha? If that is the case, does the charity work he performs count for nothing?
Even though I grew up knowing my father as a practicing Ifa/ Orisha devotee, it was my mother’s conversion to Ifa that opened my eyes to the possibility of embracing Ifa. Eventually, I started conversing with an Ifa priest and having a yearly consultation with him. By the second visit, Ifa acknowledged and welcomed me back! I felt seen and loved, as though I was not too insignificant to matter to the Universe. The invisibility and void that was present before, was slowly beginning to fill.
In Ifa, ancestors are an essential part of the spiritual realm and serve as guides and protectors. Every individual has a lineage and within the Ifa practice there is an:
‘obligation to communicate with the ancestors on a daily basis’ (Fatunmbi).
The acknowledgement of ancestors helps to strengthen one’s identity. It gives you a strong sense of who you are, where you’ve come from and what you are capable of achieving. In Trinidad ancestral veneration takes different forms, from the simple act of telling their stories, remembering their names, to the:
‘pouring of rum on the earth, placing of offerings at grave-sites, laying of tables during the ancestral ritual of Saraka (1) and the absorbing of aspects of Egungun (2) practises into carnival masking’ (Aiyejina and Gibbons, 1999, p.40).
One of the ways I connect with my ancestors is through prayer. My daily prayer routine consists of giving thanks to Olodumare, the Creator of the Universe, the Orisha and ancestors for the gift of life. When I call on the names of the ancestors that I know, I ask them to help me overcome the obstacles I encounter and provide clarity to any problems. Since our ancestors were once human, they are able to understand our needs and desires. Now that they are in the spiritual realm:
‘they have the power to assist those who are living’ (Asante and Mazama, 2009, p.46).
When I need to embody strength and courage, I call the names of my paternal and maternal grandmothers, Grace Gibbons and Ann Williams-Jacobs. I remember them as having an unshakeable sense of self and a joy for life. During their lifetime, they navigated racism and infidelity while achieving recognition and success in their careers, and raising tight-knit, loving families. The daily acknowledgement of my ancestors aids in grounding my identity as I can attest that I come from a line of powerful, resistant, resilient women, and further uniting me with my family and the wider community (Ifa Global).
Ifa/ Orisha is the chosen vehicle through which I explore, understand and connect with my lineage. The journey of discovering self is on-going and I recognize that I am a continuation of my ancestors. I know that as I stand on the shoulders of my ancestors, poised for success, their sacrifices will not be in vain. I understand that I am them, and without them, I would not be here today. For their continued guidance, protection and love, I give thanks. Ase.
(1) Thanksgiving feast of African origin that honours the ancestors and the living (Tobago Rituals).
(2) African masking tradition that honours ancestors (Drewal, 1978).
Bibliography:
Aiyejina, F., & Gibbons, R. (1999). Orisa (Orisha) Tradition in Trinidad. Caribbean quarterly, 45(4), 35-50.
Asante, M. K., & Mazama, A. (Eds.). (2009). Encyclopedia of African religion (Vol. 1). Sage.
Crosson, J. B. (2019). Catching power: problems with possession, sovereignty, and African religions in Trinidad. Ethnos, 84(4), 588-614.
Drewal, H. J. (1978). The arts of Egungun among Yoruba peoples. African Arts, 18-98.
Fatunmbi, Fa’lokun. (2023, January 18). African Traditional Religions Textbook: Ifa. Chapter 5. Our Ancestors Are With Us Now. Atlanta University Centre Robert W. Woodruff Library.
Ifa Global. (2018, December 10). Why Should I Learn to Practice Ancestor Veneration?
Tobago Rituals. (2014). Salaka Festival.