Let us begin with a picture many of us hold when we think of spirituality. Perhaps it is a serene figure sitting in perfect stillness, legs crossed, eyes closed, a gentle smile playing on their lips. It is a picture of profound silence, a quiet so deep it seems to hold the secrets of the universe. For many, this image has become the pinnacle of spiritual attainment: a state of undisturbed peace, free from the noise of the world.
There is deep wisdom in stillness. There is medicine in quiet contemplation, in creating space to listen to the whispers of Spirit and the guidance of our ancestors. But a dangerous myth has taken root in our collective consciousness, one that conflates this sacred, chosen silence with a silence that is demanded, imposed, or born of fear.
This is the myth that spirituality requires us to be perpetually quiet, to bypass our anger, to swallow our truths, and to never, ever rock the boat.
Today, I want to offer you a different picture. I want to invite you into a sanctuary of healing where the most sacred instrument we possess is not our silence, but our voice. In the work of healing intergenerational trauma and reclaiming our power, particularly as Black women, silence is rarely the medicine.
More often than not, it is the wound itself. True spiritual liberation is not found in quiet passivity; it is found in the courageous, earth-shaking, revolutionary act of speaking our truth.
The Myth of a Silent Path
The popular, commercialised version of wellness often sells us a spirituality that is neat, tidy, and comfortable. It tells us to “let go” of negative energy, to “rise above” difficult emotions, and to maintain our “zen”.
While the intention may be good, this approach can be profoundly damaging. It encourages a spiritual bypass, a way of using spiritual ideas to avoid facing unresolved emotional issues, personal history, and systemic injustices.
For those of us carrying the weight of generations, this pressure to be silent and serene is not just unhelpful, it is a continuation of the oppression our ancestors endured. For centuries, our foremothers were silenced.
Their stories were erased, their pain was ignored, and their wisdom was dismissed. To suggest that our healing now lies in adopting a similar silence is to misunderstand the very nature of the wounds we carry. The world has demanded our silence for long enough. Our healing journey does not ask us to continue this legacy; it asks us to break it.
This journey of breaking the silence is at the heart of the work we do at Fematin958 Intl. It unfolds across three sacred phases: The Remembering, The Unveiling, and The Reclaiming. In each of these stages, the voice is not just a tool, it is the key that unlocks the door to our freedom.
The Remembering: Giving Voice to the Ancestors
The first step in any true healing is to remember. We cannot heal what we do not acknowledge. This phase, The Remembering, is about gathering the fragmented pieces of our history, both personal and ancestral. It involves looking back, not to dwell in the pain, but to honour the journey that brought us here.
Our voices are the vessels for this remembering. When we speak the names of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers, when we tell the stories of their resilience, their joys, and their sorrows, we are performing a sacred ritual.
We are calling their spirits into the present moment and affirming that their lives mattered. In many African diasporic traditions, the spoken word holds immense power. It is not merely communication; it is an act of creation and invocation.
Consider the Yoruba tradition of the oríkì, a form of praise poetry used to recite the lineage and accomplishments of an individual or a family. As the Encyclopædia Britannica notes, these oral recitations serve as a family’s historical record, preserving their identity across generations.
Speaking an oríkì is to speak a person’s destiny and spirit into being. In the same way, when we voice our family histories, we are participating in a powerful form of remembrance that re-connects us to the source of our strength. Silence, in this context, would be an act of forgetting.
The Unveiling: Articulating the Wound to Heal It
Once we begin to remember, we inevitably come face to face with the pain that has been held in our lineage. This is The Unveiling, the phase where we must be brave enough to look at our wounds directly. And the most powerful way to bring a wound from the darkness into the light is to speak of it.
Trauma thrives in silence. It festers in the unspoken corners of our minds and embeds itself deep within our bodies. As renowned psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk explains in his seminal work, The Body Keeps the Score, trauma is not just a story we tell, but a physical experience that rewires our brains and nervous systems. He notes that the path to healing often involves finding a way to articulate the experience, to give language to the unspeakable.
When we hold our truth in, our bodies often pay the price. It can manifest as a constant tightness in the throat, a heavy weight on the chest, or chronic pain in the jaw. This is our body crying out for the words that have been suppressed.
Speaking our pain, whether to a trusted therapist, a circle of sisters, or even just to ourselves in a journal, is a somatic release. It allows the trapped energy of the trauma to finally move through and out of our bodies.
It is the act of lancing a wound so that it can finally be cleansed and begin to heal. This process is not quiet or neat. It can be loud, messy, and filled with tears and rage. And it is profoundly sacred.
The Reclaiming: Speaking Our Power into Existence
After we have remembered our past and unveiled our wounds, we arrive at the most empowering phase of all: The Reclaiming. This is where we stop defining ourselves by our pain and begin to consciously create our future.
Here, our voice transforms from a tool of excavation into a tool of creation. We use it to reclaim our narrative, our power, and our divine purpose.
Reclaiming our voice means moving beyond just telling the story of what happened to us and starting to declare the truth of who we are. It is an active, ongoing practice that shows up in many forms.
Here are some ways we reclaim our power through voice:
- Setting Boundaries: Speaking a clear and firm “no” is one of the most spiritually potent acts a person can perform. It is a declaration that your energy, time, and wellbeing are sacred.
- Affirming Our Worth: Speaking affirmations aloud is not just wishful thinking. It is the act of reprogramming old, inherited beliefs of unworthiness and replacing them with the truth of our divine value.
- Sharing Our Wisdom: Your unique journey has gifted you with wisdom that the world needs. Sharing your story on your own terms is an act of service and leadership. It gives others permission to do the same.
- Singing, Chanting, and Praying: These are ancient vocal practices that connect us directly to Spirit. The vibration of our own voice can be a powerful healing frequency, aligning our energy and calling in ancestral support.
This is the voice of sovereignty. It is the voice that says, “I am here. I am worthy. I belong. And I will not be silent anymore.”
Sacred Silence vs. Suppressive Silence
Let me be clear: this is not a call to abandon silence altogether. The true spiritual path is one of balance. There is a profound difference between the sacred silence we choose and the suppressive silence that is forced upon us.
Sacred silence is generative. It is the quiet space where we go to listen, to receive divine inspiration, and to connect with our deepest inner knowing. It is a conscious choice to tune out the external noise so we can hear the internal wisdom.
Suppressive silence, on the other hand, is born of fear, shame, and oppression. It is the silence of biting your tongue, of not speaking up for yourself, of pretending everything is fine when it is not. This silence disconnects us from ourselves and from our power.
Your spirit knows the difference. One feels like a warm, expansive sanctuary. The other feels like a cold, constricting cage.
Your voice is a divine inheritance, a sacred instrument encoded with the stories of those who came before you and the promise of the generations yet to come. To heal is to learn how to play that instrument with clarity, courage, and conviction.
It is to understand that some prayers are whispered, but some must be shouted from the mountaintops.
I extend this sacred invitation to you: find your voice. Let it tremble, let it roar, let it weep, let it sing. For in the sound of your truth, you will not only find your own liberation, but you will also light the way for others to find theirs.
With love and deep belief in your power,
Gloria Tinu Ogunbadejo
