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I am a Mami Wata and Vodoun priestess of the Yeveh and Tchamba lineage from what is now Togo, West Africa. Vodou, a name in the Adja-Tado Ewe/Fon language meaning “spirit” or “god,” is arguably the world's oldest Ancestral and Nature honoring tradition known to humans.
Its origins were in the developing West African village kingdoms, which later expanded into one of the most powerful and prestigious West African kingdoms of the nineteenth century. Dahomean Vodoun is the Mother from which all the syncretic forms of Vodoun/Voodoo practiced in the New World, brought over during slavery, are derived.
From its earliest inception, its cosmological focus centered on the veneration of beloved and deified ancestors and the worship of specifically cultivated nature divinities. It is an encompassing way of life that is practiced openly and proudly by many in West Africa.
The name "Mami Wata," is an anglicized word used to describe a pantheon of water, mainly serpent, anthropomorphic divinities, who inhabit the sacred oceans, rivers, lakes, and streams. One of the most common feminine aspects of Mami is known as the popular "mermaid", infamous throughout all of Africa, the East, and parts of Europe.
Though l am American, I inherited my Spirits from my great-great grandmother, whose parents were brought here as slaves, and my great-great grandfather. The Vodoun that I have is from the royal house of Dahomey. Many Africans from the royal priesthood were sold into slavery in America. In Dahomey the advent of colonialism and slavery, compounded by the absence of a “written” history, as well as the need to justify African enslavement, led to pervasively false notions that nothing of any high spiritual significance or value had ever been developed by Africans.
In the eyes of Western man, labeling all African religions and beliefs as ”evil” justified colonization and slavery. Our Spiritual traditions in the West were mocked, maligned, and reduced to childish notions of primitive superstitions, and satanic/heathenistic worship. In the case of Vodoun, dark images of “witch doctors,” “cannibalism,” and bizarre animal sacrifices are still prevalent in the minds throughout the African diaspora, popular culture, as well as most mainstream religions. Gladly, these negative images are slowly changing as more is written and learned about pre-colonial African history and culture.
Dahomean Vodoun was one of many powerful traditions the Africans brought with them to the New World. The European missionaries and slave owners were very aware of the power of these spirits and thus stopped at nothing to forbid its practice and worship.
Harsh punishments of torture or death would be imposed to force the Africans to abandon their most cherished ancestors and gods. The Spirits do not die; they always stay in the family, as ours have. I suffered for many, many years because I was not able to find anyone with the correct knowledge and level of power to help me understand these Spirits.
Everything began when l was born with these lifelong Spirits, which are physically strong and tangible. When my great-great grandfather was killed, my family, with fear for the rest of us, suppressed the knowledge. So, my grandmother and my grandfather never talked about the Spirits; they would just let the Spirits exist in the house.
The Spirits would often possess me in a trance, it was my dark secret. W hen I became old enough to go out on my own, I began to try to find someone who could help me understand these Spirits. I was afraid. I was accustomed to this level of experience, but when it became too much, all I could do was go in my room and stay until the Spirits cooled down. These Spirits came from the priesthood of my family, and I knew were making me suffer because I was not initiated to them.
I decided one day that I couldn't take it anymore. Nobody had the knowledge and the power to help me. I’d been everywhere, to all the churches, to all the so-called great healers and African priests; I went to Peru, Mexico. I went everywhere.
One night I was awakened by a voice that kept disturbing me. I would try to brush the Spirit away, but it wouldn’t let me sleep. It kept ordering me "to get up and go to the bookstore". Reluctantly, I got up; the bookstore was still open. I went straight to the magazine section, a place I rarely visited, and there was a picture of Akuete Durchbach, the high priest from Togo, West Africa. And he was coming to the University of California at Berkeley. Instantly, I knew that he was the one who could help me; l just knew it! They were sponsoring a week-end event. During the course of my suffering I had moved away from my family, living alone in an apartment that I knew I would spend my last days suffering. Straped for cash, I did not know how I would be able to attend.
Quickly, I bought the magazine, knowing I didn't have the money for a plane ticket, and the event was a week away. I didn't have anyone to borrow from and my bank account was empty. The remainder of the night, I cried myself to sleep, when suddenly I was awakened again by this Spirit that kept disturbing me. It told me to get up and go to the ATM machine at the bank. It was well past midnight, and cold. Nevertheless, I went there and did everything the Spirit told me to do. I typed in the exact numbers that he told me, and to my shock the money came out. It was exactly enough money for the plane ticket. I was shocked! I began to thank God, because I knew now that I could finally get help.
I had $50 left after I bought my ticket, leaving me little money for living expenses. I was afraid the whole time I was on the plane. Once I arrived in California, the shuttle I had to take to arrive in Berkely cost me my last $50, leaving me with nothing. During the ride on the shuttle, I thought I was going to be homeless. I knew I did not want to go back home suffering with these Spirits. In the midst of my worrying, a little, white-haired lady gracefully sat down next to me. She said "you do not look like you live around here?. I told her No, I did not. I said that I wasn't sure exactly where I was going, and she invited me to come with her at the next stop where a friend was going to pick her up. She agreed to take me the rest of the way to a hotel. Without hesitation, I agreed.
l asked to be dropped off at the YMCA, hoping they wouldn't realize I had nowhere to go, and that I had braced myself to sleep on the street if necessary. Afriad, I waved thankfully to them as they drove off. It was cold, and I was hungry. I tried to open the door to the YMCA, but it was closed and locked. As I began to look for the most comfortable place I could find to sleep on the street, I heard the sound of a horn.
It was the old lady and her friend. They came back to make sure that I had made it into the YMCA. When I told them the place was locked, they took me out to dinner and let me use the home of a relative who was out of the country, much to my joy and shock! Never once did these wonderful ladies ask any personal questions, even as they drove me to the workshops. I was learning how Mami Wata works.
At the workshop I had a translator talk to Akuete, the high priest from Togo, West Africa. He agreed to help me even though I had no money to pay him. He said that what was happening to me is very common in Africa; it was no big deal. That was the first time in my life I realized I wasn't crazy. After the workshop he promised to help me. I sat down in the audience with everybody else, while Akuete got up on-stage. He was up there only five minutes when his head began to jerk. As he was jerking his head, he whispered to his host, and they stopped the workshop.
Because Akuete was very, very powerful, a priest's priest, he sent his spirit to find out what my problem was, and the spirit came back to tell him. But, in this case, the spirit began to disturb him just as I was affected.
He got up, went outside, and he made a circle. Very subtly he worked to make people think he was doing this for everybody. I fell immediately into a wild trance. The ceremony lasted perhaps one hour. He was able to help me with the Spirits and he gave me money for the bus trip home.
This wasn't the end of my story, for I had to travel to Africa to become initiated into the priesthood by him. During my travel the Spirits within me became even more intense, actually battling to take control. When l arrived I was immediately given a sacred purification bath, and ceremonies were performed to cool and reassure the Spirits.
We entered a sacred grove where I finally discovered who the Mami Wata was. All of the Spirits that were fighting were mine and were fighting for me. There were numerous ceremonies that took place for me the entire time I was there.
I am simply thankful that I made it to Africa. The suffering I endured was a preparation for my life in the Priesthood to Mami Wata and the Vodou. The breadth and scale of what I endured revealed to me that the Spirits were incredibly powerful and phenomenally intelligent. I also learned that what I experienced was typical for Mami’s priesthood.
Had I been in Africa, she would have chased me into the forest where no one would have found me until she was ready to release me. Today, now that my vodoun are installed and my shrines are complete, I am forbidden to perform regular work outside of my home.
I tend to the Spirits and ancestors full time and perform divination, healing, and other work, which takes me all over the world, wherever I am sent by the Spirit. My mission now is to reintroduce our tradition back and to take it out of the realm of anthropology, and bring it back on a different level, on equivalent to the other world religions.
