Have you ever found yourself in a spiritual space that felt… borrowed? Perhaps you have followed a path that promised enlightenment, peace, or connection, yet a quiet part of your soul remained thirsty, unrecognised.
You may have learned meditations from traditions far from your own ancestral lands or prayed to a divine that did not reflect the faces of your grandmothers. This feeling of spiritual homelessness is a quiet epidemic, particularly among those of us in the African diaspora.
For centuries, we have been told that our indigenous ways were primitive, that our ancestors’ wisdom was devilish, and that true salvation lay in adopting the spiritual frameworks of our colonisers. We were handed a new set of robes to wear, but for many, they have never truly fit.
They are heavy with a history that is not our own and cut from a cloth that does not breathe with the rhythm of our spirit.
Here at Fematin958 Intl, our work is centred on guiding you back to yourself, which means guiding you back to the sacred inheritance that flows through your veins. The journey to true spiritual alignment and healing requires a courageous act: the decolonization of our spiritual practices.
It is a turning away from borrowed systems and a profound turning towards the rich, vibrant, and deeply healing wisdom of our own ancestors. This is not about creating something new; it is about remembering what was stolen and lovingly, intentionally, calling it home.
The Invisible Chains: Understanding Colonized Spirituality
Before we can shed these borrowed robes, we must first see them for what they are. Colonialism was not just a physical occupation of land and bodies; it was a spiritual and psychological occupation of the mind and soul.
It operated by systematically dismantling and demonizing indigenous spiritual systems and replacing them with a worldview that served the empire.2
This colonial spiritual inheritance often includes:
- A Distant, Patriarchal God: Many indigenous cosmologies understand the Divine as immanent, present in nature, in our community, and within ourselves. This often includes a powerful reverence for the Divine Feminine. Colonial religions frequently replaced this with a singular, male God, separated from creation and accessible only through a rigid, male-dominated hierarchy.
- Spirituality as Separate from Life: For our ancestors, spirituality was not a building you visited once a week. It was woven into the fabric of daily existence: in the planting of crops, the preparation of food, the honouring of elders, and the marking of seasons. Colonialism introduced the idea of a sacred-secular divide, shrinking the realm of the spirit to a private, personal affair.
- The Exploitation of Nature: Indigenous wisdom teaches that the Earth is a living, sacred being, our first mother. We are not her masters, but her custodians. The colonial mindset, in contrast, views the Earth as a collection of resources to be owned, controlled, and extracted for profit. This disconnection from the land is a core spiritual wound we are all now facing in the form of climate crisis.
- Fear and Shame as Control: The veneration of ancestors was reframed as “ancestor worship,” and nature-based rituals were labelled as witchcraft. A narrative of sin, guilt, and eternal damnation was used to sever our connection to our own intuitive wisdom and create dependency on a colonial religious authority.
Living with these invisible chains leaves us disconnected from our power, our history, and the Earth itself. Decolonizing our spirituality is the act of identifying and breaking these chains, one by one.
The Remembering: The Sacred Act of Questioning
The first phase of this liberation is The Remembering. It begins not with answers, but with courageous questions. To decolonize is to become a loving detective of your own soul, tracing your beliefs back to their source.
Whose god do you pray to? Whose rituals do you practice? Whose values shape your understanding of the world? Do these beliefs empower you and connect you to your lineage, or do they perpetuate a sense of shame and separation?
Remembering is an active process of re-educating ourselves. It means reading the books that were not assigned in school, learning about the powerful histories of our own people before colonisation.
For those of us with roots in the Yoruba tradition, it means learning about the Orishas, the multifaceted expressions of divine energy, like the nurturing mother Oshun or the fierce protector Shango. It means understanding that our ancestors had sophisticated systems of philosophy, divination, and community ethics that have sustained our people for millennia.
Decolonization is fundamentally about shifting our centre.3 Instead of viewing our indigenous traditions from the outside, through a lens of colonial judgement, we place them at the very centre of our worldview and look out from there. We begin to trust that the wisdom of our own people is valid, complete, and more than enough to guide us.
The Unveiling: Listening for Your Ancestral Call
Once we begin to question and remember, we enter the second phase: The Unveiling. This is where the intellectual journey becomes an embodied, spiritual practice. It is the process of learning to listen again, not just with our ears, but with our spirit and our bodies, for the guidance of our own ancestral traditions.
This is a delicate and personal journey. Here are some ways to begin:
- Start with Your Lineage: Begin your research close to home. Explore the specific traditions of your ancestors. If you are of the diaspora and your exact origins are unknown, connect with the broader traditions of West Africa, for example, as a powerful starting point. This is not about cultural appropriation; it is about reclamation. It is your birthright.
- Create an Ancestral Altar: One of the most powerful practices you can begin today is creating a sacred space in your home to honour your ancestors. A simple table with a white cloth, a glass of water, a candle, and photos of your loved ones who have passed on is enough. Speak their names. Thank them for the life they gave you. Ask for their guidance. This simple act re-establishes a line of communication that was intentionally broken.
- Engage with Nature: Rebuild your relationship with the Earth as a sacred teacher. Spend time outside without distraction. Notice the cycles of the moon, the turning of the seasons, the wisdom of the plants growing around you.4 Your ancestors understood these rhythms intimately. Reconnecting to them is a way of reconnecting to their consciousness.
- Seek Community: Find others who are on this path. Seek out elders and trusted knowledge keepers who are grounded in the traditions you are exploring. Be discerning and patient. The right guides will appear when you are ready. This journey is not meant to be walked alone; it is about rebuilding the sacred community that colonialism sought to destroy.
The Reclaiming: Living a Liberated Spirituality
This beautiful work of remembering and unveiling leads us to the final, most transformative phase: The Reclaiming. This is where decolonized spirituality ceases to be a concept and becomes your lived reality. It is the integration of ancestral wisdom into the rhythm of your daily life.
A reclaimed, indigenous-rooted spirituality is not something you do, it is something you are.
It looks like pouring libations before a family meal, giving thanks to the ancestors and the Earth for the nourishment you are about to receive. It sounds like speaking the names of your grandparents to your children, ensuring their legacy is passed on. It feels like making decisions not just for your own individual benefit, but for the well-being of the seven generations to come.
Reclaiming your spiritual heritage is a radical act of political and personal liberation. It declares that you will no longer allow the legacy of colonialism to define your relationship with the Divine.
It heals the wound of disconnection that fuels so much of our collective and individual pain. By returning to the source, we reclaim our power, our dignity, and our sacred purpose. We become a living bridge between the wisdom of the past and the promise of the future.
This path is not always easy. It asks for our courage, our vulnerability, and our commitment. But it offers us the greatest gift imaginable: the gift of coming home to ourselves.
