Honoring the land, finding belonging

In January 2014, I moved to Germany, to Berlin to be precise. In the same year, I also gave birth to my first daughter and my mother came to visit me from Benin to help me with the newborn.

I remember going to the airport to welcome her and bring her to our flat. When she arrived, dropped off her luggage and hugged my partner and baby, the first thing she asked me to do was to give her some water and show her my balcony. So, I did, and there, on the balcony, she took off her shoes, got down on her knees, said a little prayer and poured a few drops of water on the ground.

Picture via Pinterest - A woman pouring libation on the earth

Of course, I'm familiar with this ritual of pouring libation, which I've often seen the elders do in Benin at the beginning of all ceremonies, but I was curious to know why she did it in this context.

"My daughter, we Yoruba always honor the land that welcomes us. We ask for peace, gentleness, and prosperity wherever we are and whatever conditions we have arrived in. From what you're telling me and what I'm hearing about this country, I'm aware that it's not the easiest place in the world for black people, but I'm here for three months and all I ask is that my stay be gentle and peaceful, and for that I've invoked my ancestors to help me, and I've honored the land so that it accepts me".

 I hadn't seen my mother for at least 5 years, so this visit was not only useful to help me with the baby, but also for our relationship and to deepen and refresh some of her teachings on tradition. So off we went for three months of intense conversations with her about the traditions, cultures, and practices of our home country - things we quickly forget when we leave our home country, our home nervous system, to try and fit into another country, another nervous system, to feel like we belong and are accepted.

Our conversations about traditional practices took place at the time of breastfeeding, because she believed that the baby also benefits from it through the milk coming from the breasts and received the transmission directly. So, every breastfeeding moment was a delicious moment for the baby and for me, almost a moment of prayer, as I let my mother cradle me with her words and the wisdom of my culture. (Incidentally, I had also noticed that I was producing more milk since her arrival, and we had these conversations while breastfeeding).

She touched on many subjects, but one came up more often than the others: the relationship between honoring the land and finding a sense of belonging. One day, as I was breastfeeding outside, sitting on the ground in a park, I asked her, 'How can I honor a country in which I don't feel respected or welcomed?

"I didn't ask you to honor a country, I asked you to honor a land, the earth. The land existed before countries were built and before all the policies of oppression. The land does not oppress or discriminate against anyone if we have the humility to honor it. In Yoruba culture, the land is considered sacred and is believed to be imbued with natural power and life force. It is a living entity and, as such, must be treated with care and respect".

But to put things in context, I had just moved to Berlin after living in Tunisia for a few years, where I was confronted with extremely violent racism on a daily basis. I experienced horrible and despicable things that undermined my human dignity. I was tired not only emotionally, but also physically, because my nervous system was constantly on alert, hyper-vigilant. When I arrived in Berlin, the racism continued, this time in a more subtle and insidious way. My stay in hospital to give birth to my daughter was complicated by medical racism, and so on. All this put together, my body was full of anger, and it would not have occurred to me to honor anything, especially not a land on which I had suffered.

So obviously my only concern is how to stop forcing belonging and be able to raise my newborn with more peace inside me. I wasn't totally convinced, but I have a lot of respect for my mother's words and beliefs, so I shyly asked her.

"Is it too late to start honoring the earth?"

"It's never too late to start, and as we are currently sitting outside, on the ground of this park, it might be the perfect time to start, daughter.

 She waited a few minutes for me to finish nursing the baby, handed me my bottle of water, and asked me to put the baby down and get down on my knees on the grass in the park where it was just the two of us.

"Repeat this sentence 3 times, then keep a little silence and pour some fresh water on the ground" she told me.

"I come in peace; I receive peace".

Which I did, after the second time, when I couldn't see anything happening around me, she reminded me to pay more attention to my body and my feelings.

After repeating the phrase for the third time, I felt a deep calm inside me, a calm I hadn't felt for a long time. It was short-lived, but enough to feel the difference.

"Belonging is first felt in the body," she added.

"For you to feel like you belong, you may feel less systemic humiliation and racism towards yourself. But let me tell you, that may never be the case. But at least the earth will have welcomed you and with that will come an inner well-being. Continue to honor it. The more you do, the better you'll feel, and the slower you'll want to start your own community with the people you've chosen. And that’s how you will start thriving."

 Nevertheless, I was curious to hear what she had to say on a particular point, and I asked her "what if I was born here and never came from anywhere else?

"Indeed, the natives of a land must also honor it. We must not take the land for granted. And that's exactly what I'm going to do when I return to Benin in a few weeks' time. I'm going to have to reconnect with the land, let it know I'm back, thank it for welcoming me and ask it once again for peace and health".

After my mother left, I assiduously incorporated the practice into my morning routine, a bit like saying good morning and showing my gratitude to the earth that supports me and my family, and I still do it wherever I am, even if it's just for a few days' holiday. I really like the open-mindedness that this conversation has given me and the difference I must make between the country and the land. Even though I decided to leave Germany (the country) after a few years, I'm convinced that this land gave me a lot in terms of experience, lessons, my children, etc... but nevertheless my external well-being and the safety of my body depended heavily on the country and the system. I've come to the conclusion that I will always continue to honor the earth, whatever country I'm in, but that I also deserve a country and a system where I feel at least a little safe in my body. I deserve to feel that I belong to both the land and the country.