Tag: history

Africa’s Cosmic Heritage: Reclaiming the Origins of Astrology

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Original site in the Western desert of the ‘Calendar Circle,’ Nabta Playa, Nubian desert, Egypt. Mike P Shepherd / Alamy Stock Photo, via the National Museum of African American History and Culture, Smithsonian Institution

If you have ever scrolled through social media during, as most of us are now incessantly fond of doing, you will notice that astrology is everywhere. From the infamous Mercury retrograde posts, to new and full moon celebrations, and the often-feared and misunderstood phenomenon of eclipses. Astrology is everywhere and has since become a global, multibillion-dollar industry centered on the relationship between human beings and the celestial bodies above us. 

Yet, when you think of astrology, rarely do you hear any mention of Africa. For the OG astro-heads, you might have learned about the differences between Tropical and Sidereal Astrology; one is largely Western-centric, and the latter, emerging from Eastern cultures, specifically Babylonia. In the mainstream conversations about astrology, the influence of Africa is largely absent, and it is certainly not because Africans did not look up to the stars. 

Quite the opposite. If you consider that Africa is the birthplace of humanity, then it naturally follows that Africa is where humanity’s relationship with the cosmos began. Long before the ancient Greeks and  Babylonians, and long before the zodiac as the West now knows it was drawn up and exported around the world, the various peoples of Africa maintained an intricate knowledge of the stars upon which they ordered their lives and societies. The use of astrology by Africans influenced farming and harvest seasons, many rituals, and ultimately, the understanding of what it means to be human in a vast and living universe.

This post is an attempt to bring some of that knowledge back into the light.

A quick note before we dive in: the separation of astronomy — considered a legitimate science — from astrology — dismissed as superstition — is not a universal truth. It is a Western invention, a product of the post-Enlightenment Scientific Revolution. Ancient Africans practiced both as one unified knowledge system, and that wholeness is precisely why their cosmology was complete.

The First Astronomers: Nabta Playa

Nabta Playa is the oldest known astronomical site on Earth — predating Stonehenge by several millennia, with a calendar circle constructed as far back as 7,000 years ago. The stone circle at Nabta Playa is located approximately 800 kilometres south of modern Cairo, in a stretch of the Nubian Desert near the Egyptian-Sudanese border. The stone circle was a prehistoric calendar that helped mark two significant celestial phenomena — the summer solstice, which signalled the onset of summer rains and the flooding of the Nile, and as a sky map which helped the builders understand the arrangement of stars in the night sky and relied on it as a guide through the desert. 

Since its discovery, satellite surveys have confirmed what was theorized about this stone circle: its alignments were used to track the rising of Arcturus, Sirius, and Alpha Centauri. The repetitive orientation of large stone monuments, human burials, and cattle burials all facing the northern regions of the sky reveals an early symbolic connection between the earliest humans and the heavens. This connection, transcending science, shows a profound spirituality in which life, death, water, cattle, Sun, and stars were not separate domains of existence but rather a unified living system.

The people of Nabta Playa were sub-Saharan African pastoralists, nomadic herders who moved with the seasons and, in so doing, learned to read the sky, relying on it as a guide. It has been posited that, when the Sahara began to dry around 5,000 BC, these communities migrated northeast toward the Nile, carrying their cosmological knowledge with them. If this turn of events is indeed true, then the astronomical sophistication associated with ancient Egypt, the alignment of temples with the solstices, and the mythologies woven around Sirius and Orion may have roots even older than Egypt itself.

Namoratunga: East Africa’s Stellar Calendar

Just under 2,000 kilometres south of Nabta Playa, near Lake Turkana in modern-day Kenya, stand the Namoratunga stones. The site features an alignment of 19 basalt pillars oriented toward specific stars and constellations, which modern eastern Cushitic peoples still use to calculate an accurate calendar. The pillars date back to about 300 B.C., over 2000 years ago, and confirm that a prehistoric calendar based on detailed astronomical knowledge was in use in Eastern Africa.

Here again, we find evidence of indigenous African astronomical precision: a calendar system not imposed by external forces, one developed by the people who needed and used it. The Cushitic communities of East Africa used the stars to time their agricultural cycles, their ritual calendars, and their social gatherings. 

While Nabta Playa is the oldest known astronomical site on Earth, Namoratunga is the first archeoastronomical evidence located in Sub-Saharan Africa. It provides evidence that rather than spectators of a cosmic unfolding, ancient Africans were intimately involved with the stars. The stars the Ancient Turkana people observed include Triangulum, Pleiades, Bellatrix, Aldebaran, Central Orion, Saiph, and Sirius, collectively known as the Borana Stars, which formed the basis of a 12-month calendar, also known as the Borana Calendar, consisting of 354 days. 

The Dogon of Mali: When Africa Knew Too Much

Perhaps no example of African astronomical knowledge has generated as much controversy within the scientific community as that of the Dogon people of Mali. The Dogon people of Mali possess, perhaps, the most extensive knowledge of astronomy of any known peoples in Sub-Saharan Africa. Their extensive knowledge of the Sirius star system, particularly Sirius B, a smaller, white star invisible to the naked eye, has set the Dogon far ahead of modern science. Similarly, the oral traditions of the Dogon also described the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, long before Western astronomers documented them. Their knowledge of Sirius B included details about its orbital period and its extraordinary density, information that modern science only confirmed in the twentieth century.

The response from Western academia to the Dogon’s extensive knowledge of the stars has been illuminating in the worst possible way. Scholars, including PBS astronomer Carl Sagan, speculated that the Dogons’ knowledge of celestial bodies must have come from European or extraterrestrial influence rather than from independent intellectual observations. For some scholars, the choice was between aliens and Europeans as the source of Dogon astronomical knowledge. The idea that the Dogon might simply have known, through centuries of careful, sophisticated inquiry, was apparently too difficult to accommodate.

Admittedly, the Dogon also claim that encounters with extraterrestrial entities informed their extensive knowledge of the stars. Dogon folklore maintains that knowledge of Sirius was handed down to them by amphibious beings, Nommo (which means “to drink”), whom they encountered as they migrated from their ancestral homelands. According to the Dogon, the aliens came from the Sirius star system and appeared to have human torsos and snake-like lower bodies. 

Whether or not their extensive knowledge of the star system was self-engineered or handed down by human aliens or extraterrestrials, the same epistemic violence that dismissed animism as superstition, that reframed African governance systems as primitive, that renamed the gods of our ancestors as demons, this same violence has been applied to African science, and specifically African knowledge of the stars. Thus, the Dogon’s knowledge was either appropriated or delegitimised, rather than simply respected for its uncanny accuracy even without the use of modern technology.  

Notwithstanding, the Sirius star system is cosmologically central for the Dogon, and the Nommo, the spiritual beings associated with water and creation, were said to have descended from the Sirius system, bringing with them the knowledge that seeded Dogon civilization. The Dogon had their own systems of astronomy and calendrical measurements, methods of calculation, extensive anatomical and physiological knowledge, and a systematic pharmacopoeia. The cosmos, for the Dogon, was not separate from medicine, governance, or spirituality. It was the same conversation.

The Orisha as Cosmic Forces

In the Yoruba spiritual tradition — which has been explored extensively in relation to Yemoja, Oshun, and the divine feminine — the relationship between the heavens and human life is woven into every dimension of practice.

The Yoruba believe that there are 400 Orisha, each a different aspect of nature serving as earthly representations of the cosmos and heavenly energies. Nothing exists or happens in the sky that does not have its influence or vibration on Earth within nature’s elements, and also in human behavior. Using this framework, we see that what Western astrology calls “planetary influences” are, in Yoruba belief, the personalities and domains of specific Orisha: Shango, for instance, is the force of thunder, Ogun, the energy of iron and action, and Oshun as the pull of Venus toward love, creativity, and flow.

Between 10,000 and 6,000 BC, the Africans of the Nile valley and the great lakes region devised the stellar calendar. In 4,000 BC, the solar calendar marked the era of a new age. The Ifá divination system — one of humanity’s oldest and most sophisticated oracular traditions, now protected by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage — uses the Opon Ifá, a divining board that is similar to the astrological birth or natal chart, divided into twelve houses equalling thirty degrees, the distance it takes the Sun to travel in a day. This is astrology. It is simply astrology that has not been called that, perhaps because naming it would require acknowledging that Africa gave this knowledge to the world, not the other way around.

Women and the Sky

Any celebration of African astrology must pause on the particular intimacy between women and the heavens, an intimacy that runs through so many of the Continent’s traditions.

In Ancient Egypt, the sky goddess Nut is said to swallow the Sun every night, giving birth to it again in the East every morning. Her daughter Isis — associated with the star Sirius — follows her husband Osiris (the constellation Orion) across the sky. Isis and Hathor were both connected to Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, and it was the heliacal rising of Sirius — its first appearance on the horizon before sunrise after a period of invisibility — that marked the beginning of the Egyptian new year and the flooding of the Nile. 

Goddess as calendar. Goddess as an agriculture, and Goddess as a star.

Similarly, the |Xam people of South Africa, a girl creates the Milky Way by throwing ashes and roots into the sky. The Arimi of Tanzania named the Pleiades “Kiimia”, also known as the supreme wife and mother, whose return in September marked the end of the dry season and whose very being represented cherished ideals for women. The Tuareg of the Sahara called the individual stars of the Pleiades each by a name, and collectively referred to them as “girls of the night.” 

In other cultures on the Continent, the moon is ascribed feminine attributes and thus revered for its power to regulate menstrual cycles and initiate women into womanhood. For example, the Luba of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the white light of the moon was associated with insight gained during spirit possession ceremonies, and among the Nga of Nigeria, ritual and domestic space is organised according to moon phases.

Why This Matters Now

It would be easy to frame this as a history lesson. But I do not think it is only that.

We live in a moment when many people — particularly those of African descent, and those who have grown up at the intersection of modernity and ancestral erasure — are searching for something. We scroll through astrology content, looking for a language that helps us make sense of our lives, buying birth chart readings from apps that reflect Greek planetary mythology and Hellenistic house systems, both of which stem from traditions that themselves drew heavily on Babylonian and Egyptian sources. Without knowing it, we consume diluted derivatives of knowledge that once belonged to our ancestors in a far more whole and living form.

In contemporary African societies, there is still a lingering disdain for traditional ancestral systems that guided our ancestors’ lives. While in diasporic African communities, the movement to reconnect with traditional beliefs appears to be gaining momentum, this revival is driven by a desire to reclaim ancestral knowledge that was once forcibly taken away and repressed to separate enslaved Africans and their descendants from their cultural identity.

African astrology, in its various forms, was never primarily about self-knowledge in the individualistic Western sense. It centered on relational knowledge, understanding one’s place in the web of seasons, spirits, community, and cosmos. It was about knowing when to plant, when to grieve, when to celebrate, and when to call upon the Ancestors. It was a practice of listening to the sky, to the land, and to the invisible presence that moves through both.

It is this vital connection to all life around us that was lost once separated from our cultural knowledge and identities. As such, reclaiming these lost aspects, and specifically centering African astrological knowledge and practices, is not simply nostalgia. It is, as I have argued before in this space, the work of re-indigenisation. It is the work of remembering that we were a complete people before any of what we now call “history” attempted to make us forget.

The stars have always guided and reflected us to ourselves, and after centuries of separation, it is time we remembered and honored our connection to them.

Further Reading & Sources

The West is Dead: Re-imagining Global Order through Indigenous Autonomy and Interdependence

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My name is Martha Laraba Sambe. Before any titles or identities—those I claim for myself or those others may assign—the most important truth about me is that I am human, and this is the same for each of us here today; we are human, first and foremost.

I begin by expressing my sincere gratitude to everyone who made it possible for me to speak here today: the organizers, volunteers, funders, donors, and this remarkable museum, whose open doors welcome us all. It is a profound honor to stand within an institution that houses artifacts from my home country, Nigeria. I pay respect to the ancestors, lineages, and nations from which these treasures originated. In the spirit of Ubuntu, I recognize that our gathering today is possible because of those who came before us, the ancestors whose lives were fundamentally changed by Western imperialism.

I stand here to reclaim my ancestors’ time, to give voice to their silenced stories, and to demonstrate the meaning of resilience in the face of forces that have sought to dominate and erase our existence. If my words appear critical, it is because I carry the pain and anger not only of my own people, but also of many nations that have been pillaged across Africa and the world. Nevertheless, even as I speak from this place of pain, I commit to speaking with care, as nothing built solely on anger and pain can endure.

The history of Western imperialism is not a distant past; it remains an ongoing reality that shapes and influences every aspect of our lives. The theft of cultural artifacts was not merely about ownership, but about power—the right of colonized peoples to tell our own stories, to define and understand ourselves, our value systems, and the heritages that shaped our ancestral communities. The loss of these artifacts represents a rupture in the continuum of collective memory, pride, and shared identity among many Indigenous peoples.

Yet, we are not solely defined by what was taken from us. We are also defined by what we have preserved, even under the persistent and oppressive gaze of imperialism. Our ancestors found strength in community while honoring the wisdom embedded in our traditions, and the unbreakable thread that connects us. The philosophy of Ubuntu, ‘I am because we are,’ continues to affirm this shared connection, reminding us that humanity is intertwined, that healing must be a collective process because our struggles are shared.

The Rise and Demise of Western Imperialism

Right now, we are witnessing the breakdown of systems in the Western world: environmental disasters, deep social inequality, resource shortages, and wars are increasingly prevalent. The Global South faces parallel struggles, including genocides, conflict, climate crises, and social unrest. These are not isolated incidents, but interconnected threads within a broader process of global transformation.

What unites these overlapping crises? What underlying cause connects the challenges experienced by both the West and the Global South?

At the core of these crises is Western imperialism, a force whose legacy extends across continents and centuries. A comprehensive understanding of Western imperialism requires recognizing that it did not emerge independently. Rather, imperial expansion unfolded within a complex, interconnected, and culturally diverse global context. Before European expeditions began in the sixteenth century, international affairs were characterized by multiple centers of influence, resulting in a polycentric distribution of power, knowledge, and cultural development. Civilizations across Africa, Asia, and the Americas flourished, each contributing unique knowledge systems and innovations to the world.

In West Africa, empires such as Benin, Mali, and Songhai prospered through vibrant trans-Saharan trade networks. The city of Timbuktu stood as a beacon of intellectual pursuit, supporting the study of poetry, astronomy, and theology. These were societies of sophistication and depth, with thriving economies and centers of learning. Along the Swahili Coast, cities such as Kilwa and Mombasa engaged in extensive trade with India, Arabia, and China, participating in a widespread Indian Ocean commercial network that stretched from inland Africa to distant shores. Across Asia, China during the Song and early Ming dynasties maintained the largest global economy, introducing innovations such as the compass, paper, and printing. Indian kingdoms influenced international markets for textiles and spices. At the same time, the Islamic world fostered cities like Baghdad and Cairo as prominent centers of scholarship and science, facilitating the translation of Greek philosophy and the advancement of algebra, medicine, and astronomy.

​Likewise, in the Americas, civilizations such as the Aztec, Maya, and Inca established sophisticated urban societies rooted in ritual practices, reciprocal relationships, and environmental stewardship. These diverse societies were united by a relational approach to power—where spiritual and political spheres were intertwined, and trade was defined by mutual exchange rather than domination. Across many of these societies, power operated through relational dynamics rather than absolute authority. Spiritual and political spheres were interconnected, and trade was characterized by mutual exchange rather than domination.

Around 1500, the world experienced significant transformations. Europe, still recovering from plagues and wars, sought new expansion opportunities. Rather than establishing cooperative relationships, European states pursued power and conquest. Through colonization, enslavement, and resource extraction, European powers fundamentally transformed global structures by imposing their socio-political and economic models on diverse societies. This period marked the rise of Western dominance, which was established through exploitation and control rather than mutual benefit.

Between the 1500s and 1800s, Western powers established global dominance primarily through control and force. In the twentieth century, Western dominance reached its apex with the worldwide dissemination of ideas such as capitalism, democracy, and Christianity—systems imposed on societies encountered during Western conquests. Subsequently, these and other Western systems have served as mechanisms for continued control and domination over the non-Western world.

In English, there is a saying that goes: “A house built on shaky foundations cannot stand.” European exploration of the non-Western world was marked by violence and aggression rather than cooperation and benefit, and we are currently witnessing the unraveling of the structures established through conquest and maintained by violence. The foundational elements of Western imperialism, including endless extraction, oppressive hierarchies, and domination over land and life, are collapsing under their own weight as evidenced in accelerating ecological collapse, increasing inequality, political fragmentation, and a litany of violent conflicts across the globe.

The world created by Western domination, no longer able to sustain itself, is gradually imploding, and we are all witnesses. We are witnesses to ecological disasters, multiple genocides, increased polarization, famine, etc., etc. Yet, we are also witnesses to a refusal, across various parts of the globe, to accept systems that treat both humans and the Earth as expendable. And as convoluted as this era is, it does not signify the end of the world, but rather the conclusion of a specific global order. The myth of Western indispensability is diminishing, thus creating space for new possibilities and alternative ways of being.

The Prescient Wisdom of Indigenous Traditions

As we transition from reflecting on the collapse of Western imperial structures to exploring the enduring wisdom of Indigenous and non-Western societies, it is crucial to recognize that the answers to our contemporary crises may not lie in reinventing new systems from scratch. Instead, we can look to longstanding traditions that have withstood centuries of disruption and marginalization. These worldviews, grounded in interdependence and reverence for all life, offer not only a critique of past injustices but pathways for renewal and healing. By turning our attention to these alternative frameworks, we move toward reimagining a future rooted in balance, reciprocity, and collective well-being.

When an established system can no longer accommodate the full range of human potential, it inevitably disintegrates both internally and externally. Mystics refer to this as a “Dark Night of the Soul.” I argue that humanity as a whole is currently in a Dark Night of the Soul, a nebulous transitional phase of moving beyond the era of Western domination and into an uncertain yet open future.

In a previous post, we explored how many African and Indigenous traditions perceive time as cyclical rather than linear. In these worldviews, looking toward the future often means drawing on the past, as the past and future are interconnected within the same temporal framework. Therefore, any effort to envision a world beyond the West, its domination, and the consequences we are experiencing must first seek to understand what preceded it.

Before Western expansion, global societies possessed—and continue to retain—complex systems of governance, scientific knowledge, spiritual beliefs, and ecological management. Societies across Africa, the Americas, Asia, and the Pacific maintain unique cultural practices, yet share core concepts regarding existence and interconnectedness. These indigenous worldviews emphasize relationality, indicating that all beings are interconnected within a shared system of life. This shared concept of relationality, along with other worldviews present in Indigenous and non-Western cultures, is what I refer to as ‘indigenous schemas’.

The following discussion will focus on three principal indigenous schemas, which primarily center on these core ideas:

  • The land—our Earth—is a living ancestor, not an object to be bought, sold, or exploited.
  • Governance is based on consent, accountability, and community involvement, and knowledge is always shared—passed down through oral stories, rituals, and hands-on experience.
  • Economies operate on reciprocity, focusing on fair exchange and the replenishment of used resources.

Western colonizers dismissed Indigenous philosophies as primitive because these ideas fundamentally challenged a worldview rooted in hierarchy, scarcity, and domination. However, Indigenous philosophies across the globe share a foundational principle: The Earth, as all beings in it, is sacred, and each being is an expression of the Divine Spirit and/or Creator. In contrast to Western thought, which positions humans above nature, Indigenous perspectives see humans as one component within a vast, interconnected cosmos. In this perspective, relationships, rather than hierarchies, serve as the main organizing principle.

In indigenous systems, value is not determined by productivity or profit; rather, it is seen as inherent to existence itself. Western colonialism sought to undermine this perspective because domination conflicts with the recognition of the natural world as sacred. Colonial systems initially portrayed land, forests, animals, and entire populations as soulless, justifying their exploitation and dispossession. For this reason, reclaiming the sacredness of all life is not merely an abstract ideal but a concrete, actionable process encompassing socio-political, ecological, and spiritual dimensions. This foundation is essential for societies aiming to achieve sustainability beyond Western paradigms.

Indigenous systems emphasize the sacredness of all life and highlight the interdependence of all living things while respecting each being’s autonomy within the larger whole. In Indigenous societies, the concept of freedom does not mean being separate from others or acting without regard for their well-being. Instead, freedom is evident in how individuals honor their relationships with the community, the land, and their spiritual connections. Each being has a role and corresponding responsibilities that come from belonging to this greater whole. Ultimately, a person’s identity is shaped by their contributions to the community, and power is shared collectively rather than imposed by a single authority.

Western perspectives often define freedom as independence from others. In contrast, Indigenous societies emphasize the interdependence of all living beings and the importance of maintaining balanced relationships with them. This viewpoint highlights that even those we may dislike or disagree with are part of the interconnected web of life, and nurturing balance is essential for both personal and societal well-being. Strength, resilience, and meaning are cultivated through reciprocity—an ongoing exchange of support, knowledge, and care. To move beyond Western notions of autonomy, it is important to embrace interdependence as a form of sovereignty rather than seeing it as a sign of vulnerability.

Within Western capitalist systems, value is extracted from land, labor, and life until resources are depleted. In contrast, Indigenous societies have traditionally operated under economic systems that prioritize giving back to the environment, rather than ceaselessly taking from it. Regenerative economics is based on the belief that the Earth is a living entity, not merely a resource. This economic model also emphasizes the following principles:

  • Resources extracted from the environment must be replenished
  • Well-being is measured over many generations, and not just by short-term profits
  • Wealth is distributed to sustain the community, rather than concentrated to maintain individual or institutional power.
  • Growth is signalled by societal wellbeing, nature thriving, and the health of relationships within communities.

These ideas have endured despite colonization because they are rooted in the very logic of nature. Nature functions in cycles, where decay, renewal, giving, and receiving all play vital roles. The environmental and social crises we are currently witnessing suggest that our existing systems are fundamentally misaligned with the laws of nature. There are many lessons to learn from the regenerative economic models of indigenous cultures, which can help the world protect both the environment and society, allowing both to flourish and, importantly, ensuring a sustainable future.

To Decolonize or Not?

Finally, it is important to consider the role of decolonization in shaping contemporary society. I do not fully concur with the mainstream definition of decolonization as “the process of undoing colonialism by ending the domination of one country over another.” Nobody can undo colonization, just like none of us can go back in time to stop Western Imperialists from setting sail to conquer other parts of the world.

So where does that leave us? Should we just give up on “decolonizing”?

Well, yes and no.

I argue that the term “decolonization” deserves reconsideration because it tends to focus on the very concept that needs to be transcended. Additionally, it is crucial to address and repair the extensive harm caused by colonization. In this respect, I differ from many scholars who view decolonization as primarily a governmental or institutional effort. I believe that decolonization should also be understood as an individual endeavor. Fundamental changes in perception and relationships with the world begin in each person’s mind. Everyone is born into and lives under imperialist-colonial systems, and the legacies of these systems continue to shape contemporary life.

The influence of dominant and hierarchical systems is evident in all areas of life, including international and local politics, workplace dynamics, personal friendships, relationships, and even spiritual spaces. These hierarchies shape our perception of human life, suggesting that some lives are more valuable than others. One of the most damaging legacies of the West is its role in teaching us to devalue life to such an extent that it can be easily ignored and destroyed. In Germany and much of the Western world, this devaluation of life continues, particularly in the mainstream and government responses to the genocide of Palestinians following the attacks on October 7, 2023.

This devaluation is particularly evident in the thousands of deaths occurring in Sudan and the Congo, where prolonged conflicts have persisted for decades. However, these countries have not received the same level of media attention or public outcry as the Palestinian crisis. Why do you think this disparity exists? Why do many in the West seem desensitized to the deaths of Black and Brown people around the world? It ultimately comes down to how dominance and hierarchical thinking have shaped our perceptions of the “other” and how those perceptions influence our responses to global events.

When discussing decolonization, it is essential to recognize individual responsibility. Everyone has been socialized within systems that perpetuate hatred and devalue others. Decolonization fundamentally involves unlearning hatred and relearning values such as respect for all life, reciprocity, and stewardship.

In conclusion, the decline of the West does not merely signify the end of a civilization; it represents the end of a particular mode of thought.

  • Domination, extraction, and greed have reached their limits and can no longer support life or provide meaning.
  • The future must not be shaped by the same logic that created our current unsustainable world order.

Thank you for your attention.

A lecture delivered at the 2025 Fluctoplasma Festival under the Theme “Visions Beyond the West”. Go here for further readings and sources.

Spirit and Nature: An Exploration

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Photo: ‘Baobab Yola’ by Laraba Sambe © 2019

Previously, we discussed animism as a worldview that regards every aspect of nature as imbued with, and therefore an extension of, Spirit. This perspective fosters a profound respect for and connection with nature, as seen across diverse animistic traditions worldwide. Building upon that foundation, this piece elaborates on the central belief that nature, as an extension of Spirit, is sacred. It also examines the resulting sense of ecological responsibility—expressed through reciprocity and ritual—that enabled indigenous cultures to thrive in harmony with nature prior to Western imperialism.

The Separation Myth: Nature as Commodity

Life in 2025 is characterized by ongoing confrontations with a range of crises that, although distinct in time and place, collectively signal a profound disconnection between humanity and its spiritual essence. Western imperialism, as a systemic force, has permeated virtually every facet of global society. Today, numerous genocides—widely covered by the media but insufficiently challenged by the international community—serve as stark illustrations of a system that devalues the sanctity of life. Within this paradigm, all life is commodified for profit, and the loss of innocent lives is regarded as an acceptable cost in the relentless pursuit of resources.

Recent mass killings in regions such as Gaza, Sudan, and the Congo are often linked to the exploitation of natural resources by imperialist forces. To facilitate resource extraction, these entities frequently seek to suppress resistance from local populations, who are often indigenous to these areas. As a result, the environment itself becomes central to the broader context of violence and conflict. The large-scale attacks witnessed today reflect a continuation of historical tactics employed by imperial powers against indigenous populations that resisted their operations.

Over time, Western imperialism has continually refined its justifications for dominance. Initially, expansion was framed as the divine right of monarchs. Before that, Christian missionaries felt compelled to spread their faith worldwide. Unfortunately, colonial expansion frequently followed missionary activity, converting colonies into sites for resource extraction by European powers. Consequently, contemporary global power structures are a reflection of the disparities established during the colonial era. While former colonies may no longer be directly exploited for their land and resources, they still experience significant indirect consequences. Today’s global politics constitute a competitive arena in which powerful nations vie for control over land, resources, and markets. Within Western economic frameworks, these resources are considered scarce, and the ongoing struggle for them has perpetuated and intensified imperialistic practices.

Sankofa: Reconnecting with the Spiritual Essence of Nature

Long before the concept of the divine right of kings emerged and before missionaries arrived in indigenous lands, animistic cultures around the world—despite differences in belief—shared a central principle: profound reverence for nature. In these traditions, the Cartesian distinction between Spirit and matter does not exist. Indigenous peoples view themselves as integral to nature, not separate from it. For them, every aspect of life that is not human-made is regarded as an extension of God or Spirit. As Godwin Sogolo (1993) notes, “To the African [Indigenous] mind, reality is one unified whole. What happens to one part of creation reverberates through the entire system.”

The concept of interconnectedness is central to animistic beliefs and, over centuries, has fostered a sense of duty and stewardship for nature within indigenous cultures. Trees, forests, rivers, animals, and soils are not merely resources to be exploited; instead, they are recognized as essential components of the cosmos, imbued with Spirit, and thus regarded as sacred. Unfortunately, colonial missionaries—often agents of imperial expansion—dismissed these beliefs as superstition or, at times, labeled them as witchcraft. As a result, animism and its sophisticated ecological philosophy have largely faded from collective human consciousness (Kimmerle, 2006; Gumo et al., 2012). Now, at a pivotal moment in history, when the consequences of this loss are increasingly apparent, humanity must confront its past and reclaim the sacred knowledge that once enabled harmonious coexistence with the natural world.

The wisdom embedded in animistic practices is extensive. In recent years, modern science and Western academic thought have begun to incorporate animistic principles, particularly in fields such as spiritual ecology, ecofeminism, and environmental conservation. Scholars, theologians, and conservationists increasingly turn to animism as both a philosophical framework and a relational approach to engaging with the natural world—an orientation that may prove vital to humanity’s survival. Distinct aspects of animistic thought and humanity’s relationship with nature have generated significant interest among Western thinkers.

Reciprocity as an Animistic Principle

Reciprocity stands as a fundamental principle in animistic traditions. In “Ontology and Ethics in Cree Hunting,” Colin Scott (2014) explains that, among the Cree—especially hunters who engage with wild animals—reciprocity is rooted in respect. Although the meaning of respect may shift depending on the context and entities involved, it consistently serves as the ethical foundation for all relationships. Scott frames “respectful reciprocity” as the approved way of relating not only between hunters and animals but also between humans and the natural world as a whole.

The importance of reciprocity is deeply embedded in animistic cultures and is manifested in various forms. In Cree mythology, for instance, this idea is woven through cosmological narratives, illustrating how humans received culture, fire, language, and tools from animals who originally possessed them. Scott’s observations of the relationship between Cree hunters and the animals they pursue exemplify how animistic cultures perceive their connection to non-human nature as one of gift exchange (Adloff, 2025). Indigenous animistic traditions emphasize drawing resources from nature while simultaneously giving back, fostering a balanced and enduring exchange between humans and the natural world. These societies demonstrate profound respect for nature and honor the sacred partnerships formed through reciprocal exchanges in hunting and sustenance.

Adloff (2025) asserts that in cultures maintaining reciprocal relationships with nature, the notion of human superiority is inconceivable. Instead, these societies emphasize gratitude for nature’s gifts, recognizing that both humans and nature are components of a unified whole. As Sogolo (1993) notes, ‘what happens to one part of creation reverberates through the entire system.’ The resources offered by nature and the stewardship provided by humans circulate in a continuous cycle that sustains all life. Ultimately, indigenous societies flourish by acknowledging nature’s abundance and reciprocating through responsible care and stewardship of the environment.

The Role of Rituals in Honoring Nature

Within indigenous cultures, rituals are essential for nurturing, preserving, and honoring the connection to the divine and the spirit world. In “Ritual: Power, Healing and Community,” Elder Somé (1993) underscores the significance of rituals, observing that “the abandonment of ritual can be devastating.” He further asserts, “from a spiritual standpoint, ritual is inevitable and necessary if one is to live.” Recognizing this sacred imperative, indigenous societies have formalized their commitment to the Earth through diverse rituals and celebrations that honor the natural world.

In Nigeria, the Osun-Osogbo Sacred Grove holds profound importance for the Yoruba people as a site dedicated to the river goddess Osun, who is revered for bestowing fertility, healing, and protection. Annually, the Osun-Osogbo festival draws thousands of Ifa practitioners from around the globe. This multi-day celebration features singing, dancing, prayers, and offerings, honoring a centuries-old covenant between the community and the river. Similarly, rainmaking rituals are prevalent among the Shona people of Zimbabwe. During periods of drought, the Shona convene at sacred hills and riverbanks to invoke ancestral spirits for rain. These ceremonies include millet beer, livestock offerings, and ritual songs, reflecting the belief that rainfall is not guaranteed but is a blessing contingent upon maintaining a harmonious relationship with the land and Spirit.

Even before the spread of Christianity across Europe, indigenous European societies had honored nature through various rituals. The Celts, for example, regarded oak groves and wells as sacred spaces where Druids mediated between humans and the unseen world. Offerings—such as jewelry or weapons—were placed in rivers and lakes as gifts to the deities and spirits believed to inhabit those waters. In Northern Europe, Norse communities revered Yggdrasil, the cosmic tree linking heaven, Earth, and the underworld. At sacred groves and springs, sacrifices were performed to ensure fertility, protection, and balance.

Indigenous cultures across Africa, Europe, and beyond demonstrate deep respect for nature through both personal and communal rituals. These practices extend beyond mere symbolism; they represent continuous, intentional engagement with the natural world and reflect a foundational belief in the interconnectedness and interdependence of all existence. Whether in the groves of Osogbo, the sacred wells of the Celts, or the rain shrines of Zimbabwe, indigenous societies have historically honored nature through ritual. As Mbiti (1969) states, “The physical and the spiritual are but two dimensions of the same universe; ritual ensures they remain in harmony.”

Reclaiming Animism in Contemporary Society

The renewed interest in animism among modern scientists and within Western academic discourse parallels a global revival of animistic practices. In the West, there is a notable resurgence among members of the African diaspora seeking to reconnect with their ancestral heritage, which is inherently animistic and grounded in the recognition of, and respect for, the Spirit that unites humanity and nature. These movements are instrumental in healing the wounds of colonial disruption by fostering spiritual kinship, which, in turn, informs more sustainable ecological practices (Gumo et al., 2012). Similarly, eco-activist Wangari Maathai, founder of the Green Belt Movement, drew profoundly on ancestral reverence for trees as she mobilized women to plant millions across Kenya. Maathai described planting “seeds of peace and hope,” grounded in the belief that humanity cannot achieve peace on an endangered planet.

Animism, as expressed through diverse indigenous cultures worldwide, offers a compelling alternative to Western ecological paradigms. Animistic beliefs approach the Earth as kin rather than as a resource to be exploited. From this vantage point, the crises currently facing our planet—including environmental and climate challenges—are not merely surface-level issues, but manifestations of a profoundly fractured relationship between humanity and Spirit, the essential thread binding us to nature and all living beings.

In conclusion, reengaging with animistic worldviews invites us to reconsider our relationship with the natural world—not as detached observers or exploiters, but as participants in the dynamic and interconnected web of life. By acknowledging the wisdom embedded in indigenous traditions and embracing a sense of reciprocity, respect, and spiritual kinship with nature, we can foster more sustainable and harmonious ways of living. As global challenges intensify, adopting these perspectives offers a hopeful path toward spiritual and, ultimately, ecological restoration for a more balanced and compassionate future for both humanity and the planet.

References

  • Chirikure, S., Nyamushosho, R., Chimhundu, H., Dandara, C., Pamburai, H., & Manyanga, M. (2017). Concept and knowledge revision in the post-colony: Mukwerera, the practice of asking for rain amongst the Shona of southern Africa.
  • Feiler, B. (2014) Sacred Journeys With Bruce Feiler | Osun-Osogbo, PBS.org. Available at: https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/sacredjourneys/content/osun-osogbo/ (Accessed: September 10, 2025).
  • Gumo, S., Gisege, S. O., Raballah, E., & Ouma, C. (2012). Communicating African Spirituality through Ecology: Challenges and Prospects for the 21st Century. Religions, 3(2), 523–543. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel3020523
  • O’Driscoll, D. 2022. “Introduction To Animism: Definitions And Core Practices For Nature Spirituality – The Druids Garden.” The Druids Garden – Spiritual Journeys In Tending The Living Earth, Permaculture, And Nature-Inspired Arts. July 14, 2022. https://thedruidsgarden.com/2022/07/14/introduction-to-animism-definitions-and-core-practices-for-nature-spirituality/.
  • Scott, C. 2014. Ontology and Ethics in Cree Hunting: Animism, Totemism and Practical Knowledge. Edited by Graham Harvey. London: Routledge.
  • Sogolo, G. (1993). Foundations of African Philosophy: A Definitive Analysis of Conceptual Issues in African Thought. Ibadan, Nigeria: Ibadan University Press
  • Somé, M. P. (1997). Ritual: Power, healing, and community. Penguin.
  • Taylor, B. (2013) ‘Kenya’s Green Belt Movement Contributions, Conflict, Contradictions, And Complications In A Prominent Environmental Non-Governmental Organization (Engo)’, in Trägårdh, L., Witoszek, N., and Taylor, B. (eds) Civil Society in the Age of Monitory Democracy. New York: Berghahn Books, pp. 181–207. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1515/9780857457578 (Accessed: September 10, 2025).

Much Ado About Decolonization

Martha LarabaLeave a comment
Female Nok Head from the ancient Nok Civilization in Modern Day Kaduna State, Northwestern Nigeria

I have lived in Europe for a little over a year now. The experience has felt like a personal social experiment to find a place in the world I belong outside of my ‘natural habitat’ and the lands of my ancestors in the far northwestern state of Kaduna, Nigeria. 

As I settle into these Western worlds and attempt to create for myself a place in it, I am continually jarred by what I can only describe as a prevailing disconnection between the human and their soul. This is not necessarily a new phenomenon that I have observed. The case is also largely true for many people in the country I come from. In Nigeria, I met, loved, cared for, and even worked with people whose detachment from their spirits was glaring in how they treated themselves and responded to the world around them. 

Having lived here now for a over year, I am observing that the major difference between the human-soul separation in the West and my ancestral lands is the fact that this separation from spirit has gone on for much longer and has thus happened so extensively that it feels almost hopeless that there may be redemption for the populations in these parts of the world. 

In my home country, I see that this separation is happening quite gradually and it makes me fear for the future of my country, and the people I love who are still there. It makes me wonder if there will ever be a safe way back home, to the heart and soul of what it originally meant to know ourselves and perceive each other as powerful spirits who have incarnated here on Earth for a collective human experience. 

A buzzword I have come to have a love-hate relationship with is “decolonization.” Everybody and their grandmama wants to decolonize something. I am not even going to play innocent, I have been on the decolonization bandwagon for years now and this is evident in at least three well-funded projects I have been a part of. What has however remained a jarring experience is that many people I have come across who are on this decolonization train, that is headed only god knows where, are still very much colonized in their thinking and how they relate to the world around them. 

Now, I will be the first to make excuses for people because most of us alive today have been socialized in a colonized world. Many of us know nothing of a world before colonization and that is not necessarily of our own making. However, after being a part of the conversation now for some time, and having questioned my intentions, beliefs, and actions, I have come to see that decolonization is nothing more than a buzzword that gets people and institutions a certain kind of attention and access when they need it. Worse, the actions of many agents and institutions that seem to center this idea of decolonization are, in fact, a sort of neo-colonization of already colonized populations and cultures. 

This is dangerous territory because these people and institutions are only interested in specific aspects of the culture and lives of already subjugated people that fit a certain narrative and agenda. These folks are not interested in the sovereignty of previously colonized cultures or even restoring colonized peoples and cultures to their former glory. For them, ‘decolonization’ is a cool word to throw around to show that they are aware of the evils of colonialism, and possibly that they also believe in the autonomy of the colonized. However, when one attempts to engage deeper in the discourse on decolonization, beyond the niche area that has been chosen as the main lens through which we can engage in the discourse, one begins to find various gaps in the knowledge, understanding, and even interest of what it truly means to decolonize.

As a spiritual practitioner and a person who leads and lives spirit-first, quite like my pre-colonial ancestors did, I have come to find the discourse on decolonization to be shallow, lacking in spirit and thus substance. Furthermore, this emphasis on decolonizing still centers the ‘colonial’, and that simply rubs me the wrong way. 

I love a good inquiry, questions have led me down the path of many a life-changing realization and revelation. So, my question to everyone, and no one at all, is this: 

When you use the word ‘decolonize’ what are you attempting to say or do? 

Do your ‘decolonization’ efforts only begin and end when a project is proposed, planned, and implemented, or are you working also on decolonizing your mind, beliefs, and the structural systems that prevail?

I simply am unable to see beyond the fact that this word continues to center a system of oppression many of us claim we do not want. I wonder what alternative words and nomenclature exist for our collective and individual efforts to return to a place before the horrors of colonialism separated us from our individual and collective human spirits.

Speaking of spirits, people want to talk about decolonization and yet are deathly afraid of admitting that they are spirit beings having a human experience. There is no Indigenous culture on Earth that does not allude to humans having a spirit or the fact that we are, by existing, in a relationship with a higher realm beyond this physical and material existence. Yet, I continue to meet people who want to decolonize the world and cannot even fathom this crucial aspect of Indigenous life. 

It makes me wonder, if we cannot understand and reconcile this crucial separation that has happened between spirit and matter, what exactly are we then trying to decolonize? If these so-called decolonial efforts are not leading back to a union between spirit and matter, what exactly are we fighting for?

It is laughable at best, and at worst, we are witnessing the coopting of Indigenous knowledge and wisdom in a similar way that colonizers took land, resources, and anything else of value they could lay their hands on after they encountered Indigenous folks. The people and institutions pushing for decolonization without first doing an internal soul-search of how their actions and systems maintain a colonized structure are simply paying lip service and are thus not different from the colonizers who pillaged Indigenous cultures.

The way I see it, this is what it comes down to: are we truly interested in restoring Indigenous systems where people lived in communion with the Great Spirit, the Earth, and each other, or are we simply interested in surviving and getting by in these post and neo-colonial worlds?