Read an Excerpt
INTRODUCTION
A kwaaba! Welcome! I’m honoured that you’ve made it to the first page of this book, and I hope I can keep you both informed and entertained until the last. This isn’t your typical wellness book, and that’s exactly why I had to write it. On my journey of healing through depression and anxiety, I read Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life. It was the kind of thing I would have considered woo-woo nonsense and rolled my eyes at a mere two years prior, but after a year of antidepressants, therapy, yoga, personal development videos and the beginning stages of a meditation practice, I was willing to give it a try – especially as I was still struggling with insomnia, one of the conditions covered in the book. Far from being nonsense, Louise Hay’s book opened the door for me to connect with more metaphysical content, and where better to do that than with Hay House? I read more of their books, listened to podcasts with their authors, watched their videos; Rebecca Campbell, Dr Michael Beckwith and Gabby Bernstein were my faves. I kept consuming content and attending events – I even went to a Tony Robbins seminar and walked across hot coals like Oprah (caveat: it was paid for by my employer; I don’t condone ‘investing’ your last thousand pounds on celebrity coaching). And together, all of these things plus the love of an incredible support network helped me get back to being me.
And once I was back to being me, I said to myself: ‘Why are all these teachers and healers white?!’
Aside from Oprah (obvs), Dr Michael Beckwith and Mooji, all the healers I was listening to were white, with a smattering of Asian teachers nowhere near representative of how much of the knowledge being shared was of Asian origin. I decided to be intentional about searching for more Black teachers, including at yoga classes in London – and also decided that I would myself train to be a yoga teacher and, one day, I would write a book with Hay House.
When I returned from my yoga teacher training in India, I wanted to deepen my knowledge in healing sciences. I was thinking about going back to study Ayurveda when a voice in my head said, ‘Why are you going to learn their ways when your Ancestors have their own ways to teach you?’ I said, ‘Chiiiiile, you are right, and also, who said that?’ There began my search for African wellness and spiritual teachings. Long story short, the accessibility of such knowledge leaves a lot to be desired, whether you’re on the continent or not, for reasons that I hope will become clear as you read on. I have to shout out Mike, a psychic and card reader based in Glastonbury. Just as I was writing off this town – one that was supposedly the UK’s centre of spirituality – as another whitewash, I met this huge (somewhat in size but more so in personality), very white man who turned out to know an awful lot about African spirituality. He put me on to these books: Jambalaya by Yeye Luisah Teish and Opening to Spirit by Caroline Shola Arewa. I also purchased from him The New Orleans Voodoo Tarot (sounds scarier than it is, as we’ll also touch on later), which I used mainly for the huge book that comes with it rather than the cards themselves. I’m thankful for these teachings and the few others that can accurately be called books on African wellness and spirituality – but almost all of them focus either on a specific religious path (like Vodun or Ifá) or on a restrictive, very specific path of healing, often with a huge focus on (alkaline or vegan) diet. Also, aside from Shola’s book, they are all written by African-Americans and feel like they are for African-Americans. Some of them limit their African teachings only to those from ancient Egypt (otherwise known as Kemet). Basically, there was no African wellness book out there for people who don’t want to change religion, aren’t super into the spiritual stuff and don’t identify with the African-American experience.
Enter… me! Now let me be clear. The books and teachers I’ve mentioned above were integral for me on my journey of healing. Whether I followed the teachings or not, whether I felt like they were speaking to me or not, they each unlocked something new inside me and encouraged me on my path. I benefited from every single piece of content in one way or another. There is a difference between who a book is for and who can benefit from reading it.
Most books in the wellness space – most everything in the wellness space – is for middle-class white women. I read books, attended classes, went to festivals, bought yoga pants… that were definitely made for white women. While being aware that these things weren’t for me, I took what I could take and left what I couldn’t. And I benefited greatly from all of them, even the yoga pants. This book is for Black people. Who can benefit from reading it? Everyone. If you are white and you read this book, you may feel like I’m not talking to you. And that will give you a microtaste of what Black, Indigenous and people of colour experience every blessed day. But, if you’re reading with the right intentions, you will most definitely benefit. If you’re not Black but you’re Indigenous, a person of colour, Irish, Eastern European, or from any other heritage with a strong traditional culture, you’ll probably read this and recognise elements of your tradition within the African practices, which I hope will be a comfort and an inspiration for you to reconnect with or share those practices. This book will be especially beneficial for any healers or educators who want to create safe, inclusive spaces for Black people to heal. If you are Black and you’re African-American, South- or Central-American or Caribbean, there may be instances where you feel I’m not representing you, and that is simply because I don’t know your experience and it would be wrong to approximate speaking to something I have no intimate knowledge of. I’ve done my best to speak to you without speaking for you.
I am a Ghanaian-British woman and spent my childhood in London (okay, okay, Bromley – which I will defend as being part of London as well as Kent ’til my dying breath), save for my preteen years spent trying to lose my accent and gain weight in Accra. I made my transition from Londoner to Ghana ‘returnee’ in 2019 and now live between the two. This is the experience I’ll be writing from – Accra via London – because this is the experience I know. I imagine it shares a lot with other on-the-continent Africans and second- or third-generation Africans abroad. Like I said, this book is for all Black people, and so I’ve tried my best to incorporate, or at the very least, be cognisant of other Black experiences through research and the involvement of my excellent Future Ancestors.
Community is at the heart of African life, and I wanted to reflect that in this book. In each chapter of Parts II, III and IV, you will meet a Future Ancestor: a healer, educator or cultural leader who is doing the good work of keeping our knowledge and traditions alive. I encourage you to connect with them beyond this book; they are all truly inspirational.
This is a book that practises Sankɔfa – looking back in order to move forward. I share the traditions and knowledge that can help us as individuals and as a global Black community. By no means do I wish to imply that everything about our ancestors’ lives was better and that we need to go back in time. Clearly they didn’t get everything right. But this book isn’t a critical examination of all tradition, so I won’t be discussing all the ills of their times. It is, indeed, a one-sided view of things, and that is entirely intentional – this is a book about wellness, after all. Equally, I do not wish to imply that everything about the West is evil (although that is up for debate). But this isn’t a book about all the great things the West has done for the world. At the time of writing, a book called The War Against the West is enjoying a long stint in the bestseller lists – if you want to reflect on how wonderful the West is, I suggest you read that instead.
What this book is: a discussion on (Black) African identity in these modern times, an exercise in decolonisation of the mind, an expression of love and respect to the teachings of our Ancestors, an invitation for Black people around the world to connect to a wellness practice that (finally) is for them.
In Part I of the book, I set the context. Why has African knowledge been demonised and dismissed, often by its own people? Why are we so disconnected from our roots? What would it look like to start repairing that relationship? And what does this have to do with wellness?
Parts II, III and IV of the book deal with the three seeds of African-centred wellness. These seeds give you a framework to help you incorporate ideas rooted in African wisdom into your self-care routine. In each of the chapters within these parts, I will answer these questions: How did this topic show up in traditional African life? What does it look like today? How does it relate to wellness? How can we take inspiration from tradition and turn this into a modern wellness practice? In the wellness sections, you’ll notice two themes coming up consistently: belonging and self-esteem. These are absolutely essential to our wellbeing, and even more so for marginalised and minoritised groups, and this is why I basically won’t shut up about them.
In Part V, we’ll bring it all together and ask ourselves: Now that I have this knowledge, what am I going to do differently?
You’ll notice that the last subheading in each chapter is a musical reference. I hope this will create an enjoyable soundtrack for you as you read. I’ve also left some recommendations of individual Instagram accounts, teachers, apps and other resources throughout the book. We’re going to cover so many topics that honestly this is like three books in one, so I encourage you to grab a notebook and pen.
Happy reading!
