How did her journey begin?
Keka Araújo is an Orlando-based writer, editor, and priestess who grew up in a pan-African household with a Muslim African American father and a Black Cuban mother who practiced Lucumí. She identifies as a bicultural Black diasporan. She grew up Muslim but left the religion as a teen and began to explore her mother's religion. "Lucumí is a uniquely diasporic religious tradition of Orisha worship brought to Cuba by the Yoruba during the transatlantic slave trade," she told POPSUGAR. "It evolved out of enslaved Africans, making changes to the original practice for survival. I have been an initiated priestess of Yemayá for three years, but I've been a practitioner for almost 30 years. From a foundational perspective, Lucumí is a practice that's roughly 500 years old. However, it is the extension of traditional Orisha worship, which originated in Nigeria. It is over 10,000 years old."
What has her spiritual journey been like?
Araújo described her spiritual journey as a "roller coaster," saying that although she's always felt the blessings of Yemayá and Oshun, she wasn't always obedient, which can get you in trouble. After going through a tough time, she had to lose everything to "get it together," eventually becoming a priestess and now living the way the santo wishes. She's also been vocal about the discrimination Black practitioners of African practices face both in the western world and within their own faith. "Within the community, there is absolutely racism. We see it among Santeros every day. White Latinos have become the face of the tradition when they are visitors. Yet, there are religious houses with no Black people," she said. "Also, Black bodies are used as commodities. They are either cooking and cleaning in these same houses, or their value is attributed to how much they contribute financially." Her biggest takeaway is that this is a way to connect with her ancestors, because without their blessings, not much can be done.
What advice does she have for others who are hoping to explore their African ancestral practices?
The advice here is to learn what works for your ancestors, because what works for one might not work for another. There are customs that can and should be tweaked and traditions that might not align. That's what happens when people are mixed and displaced. Araújo reminded us that there is no "cookie-cutter formula" and that she is a prime example. "Many people give their ancestors liquor, pork, and tobacco. My ancestors don't take those offerings," she said. "That's offensive to them. They also don't work with Christian prayers. The easiest way to connect with your ancestors is a glass of water and a candle. It's that easy. As you develop spiritually by talking to them, you can ask what they want. It does not have to be a big production."
Where to find her:
@negra_with_tumbao
@KAraujoNWT
@Negrawithtumbao
