THE STRENGTH OF ANCESTRALITY KEEPS US ON OUR FEET
Benzimento-Arruda. Still from the Documentary Meeting of 30 years of the Network of Black Afro-Latin American, Caribbean, and the Diaspora. 2022. Photo by Anastácia Flora Oliveira.
By Anastácia Flora Oliveira
Translation by Evelin Rodrigues
Photographer and writer Anastácia Flora Oliveira writes about the power of ancestry and activism of Black women in the African Diaspora.
“Ancestrality is the basic principle and the foundation that structures the entire circulation of vital
energy.”
Ever since I understood the importance of honoring where I come from, whenever I introduce myself, I say where I'm from. Greeting the land and pronouncing the name of the place were some of the teachings I have learned from my elders. The word evokes power. “The word is an invocator, an instrument of invocation/evocation/revelation” (NASCIMENTO, 2021, p. 247). That's why we Black people, when we pronounce the names of our ancestors, we are asking for strength and protection to continue on our journey. In this article, I would like to bring up the ancestral strength of some Black women who fought against the colonial process at different times and in different places. These ancestors are still present, guiding us and radically directing us to continue fighting for our liberation.
Ancestry and spirituality are fundamental tools for us black people in the diaspora. Ginga and mandinga are fundamental to our existence. Queen Nanny was a leader of the Maroons in Jamaica in the 18th century. The Jamaican Maroons were groups of escaped slaves who established and built autonomous communities that fought against Spanish and British oppression during the period of slavery in Jamaica. Between 1725 and 1740, Queen Nanny led the Maroons in numerous conflicts against British rule. As well as teaching guerrilla warfare techniques, her authority was revered and feared for her knowledge of plants and medicinal herbs. Spirituality was important to the Maroons. Every strategy of confrontation involved spiritual practices that also fed into an African belief system known as "myal-obeah” (a Caribbean spiritual practice that worships African ancestors).
Foto 1: Yalorixá Mãe Graça of Nanã. 2023. Foto 2: Yalorixá Mãe Graça of Nanã, showing sacred leaves. 2023. Photo by Anastácia Flora Oliveira.
According to the website Biographies of Black Women, the name Nanny is derived from Nana, "a title of respect and authority used in reference to rare mothers in the Akan societies of West Africa.” She was born into a community of Koromantee, on the Gold Coast, present-day Republic of Ghana.” Nanny is a reference in Jamaica for her fight against colonial oppression, for being responsible for preserving African culture and traditions and for showing the importance of worshipping ancestors. Like Queen Nanny, Dandara dos Palmares was also a Black woman who led movements and struggles against Portuguese rule during the period of slavery in Brazil. Together with Zumbi, her lifelong partner in the struggle, she led the Quilombo dos Palmares, located in the Brazilian state of Alagoas. Quilombos were spaces of resistance to the colonial period, where escaped enslaved Black people formed communities seeking freedom, resistance to the colonial process and belonging to African origins. There were and still are numerous quilombos in Brazil, especially in the state of Bahia. Queen Nanny and Dandara dos Palmares were leaders who led struggles to free hundreds of enslaved Black people and build a space for liberation in the midst of enslavement in the Diaspora.
Quilombos and maroons are radical spaces of resistance that develop possibilities and life routes. For Beatriz Nascimento, a Black Brazilian historian, the quilombo is a space where Black people in the diaspora organized a society with its habits, customs, culture and ways of being with African influences that extend the period of slavery and also expand the concept to only a territorial one. The Quilombo is also a symbolic space of the body. The Quilombo establishes a sense of a Bantu African nation. In the documentary Orí, Beatriz Nascimento said that "The quilombo arises from the historical fact of flight, the first act of a man who does not recognize that he is the property of another." In this sense, the quilombo is the consciousness of being free without the chains of captivity. For Beatriz, the power evoked in the quilombo is the awareness of oneself, of one's origin and history. "Each individual is the power, each individual is the quilombo" (Beatriz Nascimento). So, I understand that this movement of self-consciousness as a Black person in the diaspora is also triggered when we worship the orishas and ancestors in the terreiros. The terreiros of African origins are spaces where we have access to and an understanding of our ancestry. The matriarchs of Candomblé in Brazil are Black women with ancestral wisdom, Black religious leaders who fight to this day for the liberation of black people, based on the knowledge of our history.
Yalorixá Mãe Graça of Nanã with some sons of Ilê Axé Gilodefan. 2023. Photo by Anastácia Flora Oliveira.
The Yalorixá Mãe Stella de Oxóssi (Yalorixá are priestesses and spiritual leaders of Afro-Brazilian religions) told us: "My time is now!". This religious leader, who was at the head of one of the oldest terreiros in Salvador, the Ilê Axé ÒPÓ ÀFONJÁ, still guides us today with her writings and speeches, even after her passing. This quote is emblematic because I think that ancestry is lived with the fluidity and spiraling of time. Ancestry is not something static, it is a catalyzing force that drives us to think and act in other temporalities, especially now. I learned from Mãe Graça de Nanã, Leader of the Terreiro Ilê Axé Gilodefan and my Iyalorixá, the importance of knowing our ancestral memory in order to strengthen the energy that moves us. We also create our own strategies to keep our ancestry alive and kicking because it is a vital force. It's a powerful knowledge that moves a community. That's why Black leaders reaffirmed the need to connect with ancestral and spiritual forces.
Photos: Encounter of the 30th anniversary of the Network of Black Afro-Latin American, Caribbean, and the Diaspora. 2022. Photo by Anastácia Flora Oliveira.
Cécile Fatiman was a voodoo priestess and spiritual leader who greatly influenced the Haitian Revolution (1791-1804). Cécile and Dutty Boukman were responsible for the voodoo spiritual ceremony Bois Caiman very important to the history of Haitian liberation. At the ceremony, all those present pledged to fight for freedom and take revenge on their French oppressors by starting the Haitian Revolution. Through spiritual guidance, Fatiman encouraged hundreds of enslaved Black Haitians to fight for their freedom and break away from French colonial repression. Cécile Fatiman is still honored to this day and her name is exalted as a radical agent of revolution.
In 2022, I had the opportunity to photograph the 30th anniversary event of the Afro-Latin American, Afro-Caribbean and Diaspora Women's Network that took place in Brazil. On the first day of the event, there was a moment to create an altar to honor the ancestors. Each group of women representing a country brought an element to compose the space. Throughout the event, in the midst of discussions about racism, sexism and other important issues, many women spoke about the importance of nurturing our ancestry and spirituality in order to continue the fight.
Photo 1. Without title. Cachoeira. 2021. Photo 2: Obá Izo, Daughter of Xangô Nascida of born new Black Diaspora. Recôncavo da Bahia, 2023. Photo by Anastácia Flora Oliveira.
I was recently initiated into Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religion in which we worship the orishas, voduns and nkisis and the enchanted of the earth. The word we use most is "Asé", which in a quick explanation means "strength", but it's a word-sensation that transcends meanings. It is something sensorial and is felt by the body. It transcends transnational barriers. Wherever the black diaspora takes place, spirituality is a powerful element of consciousness and the words spoken evoke power. In this sense, our ancestors circumvented a system so that in the midst of oppression we could learn about our history and thus strengthen who we are and understand that we are and will be ancestors too.
I'm writing this article now because I've been strengthened by my ancestors, known and unknown, to stand up and confront all the bonds of captivity that still haunt our existence. It is through our bodies that we keep our memory alive. In the ongoing colonial process, we are still placed as bodies, just bodies. What they didn't know was that our corporeality was/is also our life strategy. This body silenced by slavery found its way to other forms of communication. Through orality, gesture, dance, the existence of our own bodies, we are building other possibilities for and from ourselves, creating our quilombos, worshipping our ancestry and spirituality.
Bibliography:
MARTINS, L. M. Performance do tempo espiralar: poéticas do corpo-tela. Rio de Janeiro: Cobogó, 2021.
NASCIMENTO, Beatriz. Uma história feita por mãos negras: Relações raciais, quilombolas e movimentos. 1. ed. Organização Alex Ratts. Rio de Janeiro: Zahar, 2021.
RIBEIRO, Tatiene. As mulheres desenvolveram um papel fundamental de liderança e articulação na revolução Haitiana (1791 – 1804). Disponível em https://almapreta.com.br/sessao/quilombo/conheca-quem-foram-as-mulheres-por-tras-da-rev olucao-do-haiti/