African Atheists - African Centered Atheisms ?

Will all African atheists please stand up?

http://www.thisisafrica.me/opinion/detail/19897/will-all-african-atheists-please-stand-up

 

by Atane Ofiaja

Undateable black atheist

Last year, The Economist published an article about Christianity in Ghana and Nigeria. As a Nigerian, it came as no surprise to me that my country is the second most devout nation in the world. The only surprise was that there was a country on earth that was even more devout than Nigeria. Ghana took that dubious honour, with 96% of their population adhering to religiosity of some sort. Nigeria's second place wasn’t too far behind, with 93% of the population professing a religious belief. In Nigeria, only 1% of the population identifies as atheist according to a WIN-Gallup International poll. In Ghana, the number of people that identify as atheist is so infinitesimally small, their numbers don’t even register. Officially, it is 0%.
Atheism map of the world

With those statistics, one can only describe the plight of anyone who openly identifies as atheist, agnostic, irreligious or a non-believer in those societies as skating on thin ice. As a non-believer, traversing terrains where religion is embedded in every facet of life is extremely difficult and dangerous. While atheists in the west like Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris and the late Christopher Hitchens are free to have public discourse about their lack of faith without much fear of bodily harm, the same can’t be said about Nigerian atheists.

Leo Igwe

The brilliant human rights activist Leo Igwe (Leo’s website) is one of the few vocal Nigerian atheists. He has been assaulted in the past for daring to take a stand against the barbaric condemnation of children as witches and egregious human rights violations by Nigerian churches. Igwe’s piece for Sahara Reporters on atheism in Nigeria hits the nail on the head. Nigeria has a serious problem with hyper-religiosity, and it’s time for all Nigerians to acknowledge it.

Religious composition map of Africa, 2010. As of 1900, both Muslims and Christians were relatively small minorities in sub-Sahara Africa. The vast majority of people practiced traditional African religions” (“Islam and Christianity in Sub-Saharan Africa”, The Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life)

Another vocal Nigerian atheist was the late Tai Solarin (more about Tai here). Solarin was a long time atheist, civil-rights activist and humanist. He founded Nigeria’s first and only secular school, Mayflower School, in 1956. He named it after the Mayflower ship because many of the pilgrims aboard the ship were fleeing religious persecution. He wanted a school that did not centre on religion or have a religious curriculum. It was an extremely brave move on his part and the school was a success. It’s unfortunate, but unsurprising, that no one else followed the path Solarin blazed in 1956.



Non-believers in Nigeria tend to keep their lack of belief to themselves because they fear being ostracized or worse. In some Northern Nigerian states where Sharia has been instituted, the punishment on the books for apostasy is death. You don’t proclaim your abandonment of faith under such circumstances. And you can forget about opening a secular school in Northern Nigeria. It would be destroyed by Boko Haram, Ansaru or some other jihadist outfit.

I expect some Nigerians who read this (both Christian and Muslim) will be tempted to say the country has more pressing matters than secular education, such as the religious conflicts between Christians and Muslims, but that would be to miss the point that a secular education is the best antidote for religious conflict, and thus very important for the future of the country, at least a peaceful future. It’s too late for the older generation of hyper-believers. They are set in their ways. We need to focus on the young if we want Nigeria to be a prosperous nation, rather than one in which its citizens shout to deities for salvation while fighting one another because their fellow countryman’s deity isn’t to their liking.



Something the stats on religion in Africa don’t show is that the spread of hyper-religiosity across the continent is a fairly recent phenomenon. This is the case with Christianity in particular, and it has been happening at the behest of Western evangelists. The influx and influence of western evangelists has left an indelible and, in my opinion, destructive mark across the continent. It has dramatically changed the hearts and minds of people, and the change has been catastrophic.



Take Uganda for example. The scourge of ignorance, hatred towards and attacks on gay men is happening primarily because the people have been (and continue to be) groomed and instructed to feel that way by their pastors and by the Western evangelicals who bankroll their churches. Western evangelicals are funding this phenomenon, and the Ugandan clergy has obliged by inciting violence against their gay countrymen and women. Money. That’s what it boils down to. It gets tiring to hear time and time again how Africans are homophobic, with Uganda being used as evidence. This has become the standard narrative, but not everyone who says these things even acknowledges the role of the Western evangelist-proselytisers of hatred and prejudice, let alone take a critical look at it. As recently as 20 years ago, Africans weren’t inciting violence towards gay people. If you are old enough to remember life 20 to 25 years ago, this venom was absent even from the most devout. But in two decades, the social landscape changed for the worse. I had a very religious family member tell me with all the sincerity in the world that Hurricane Sandy hit New York City hard because they legalised gay marriage. How do you even begin to have a logical conversation with someone who believes something like this?

One of the consequences of the notorious “kill the gays bill” has been that when media outlets acknowledge the role and influence of western evangelicals in Africa, they tend to focus on Uganda. However, recent western religious influences are to be found elsewhere on the continent as well. In Ghana and Nigeria, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka Mormon Church) continues to grow thanks to American Mormon missionaries. The conversion of thousands of Africans is perplexing when one examines the core tenets of Mormonism, which can only be described as puerile and insane. They believe that the Garden of Eden was in Missouri, USA. They believe that the Native Americans were the 10 lost tribes of Israel. They believe that a resurrected Jesus came to America.



For most of its existence, the Mormon Church was a racist organisation. In the Mormon tradition, they believed that Cain was a black man, and that he loved Satan more than God, which is why he slew his brother Abel. God then punished Cain by making his skin black. Essentially, black people (the seed of Cain) have dark skin because they bear the mark of Cain, thus having dark skin is a punishment and a curse according to their beliefs. The Mormon Church had an official racist policy regarding black members up until 1978. Blacks weren’t allowed to be clergy because as their beliefs dictate, blacks were cursed by God. This isn’t something from the days or slavery of from the reconstruction era, this is modern day stuff.

To add insult to injury, in 1954, Mormon leader, apostle and President of the Mormon mission, Mark E. Peterson, decreed that faithful blacks would be granted acceptance into the afterlife only as eternal servants. His exact words were “If that Negro is faithful all his days, he can and will enter the celestial kingdom. He will go there as a servant, but he will get a celestial resurrection.” This is what they believed until 1978, and their stance only changed due to outside pressure and the fact that it wasn’t politically expedient.

The official stance of the church has been amended (in some cases edited - i.e. racist passages in the book of Mormon being reworded), but the Mormon Church was in Africa proselytising their faith prior to 1978, when they had an official racist policy. The Mormon leaders and elders today were around when all this was going on. They were adults, so they can’t feign ignorance. The leadership is largely the same. Some of the people at the helm in those racist days are still there, and if they passed away, then their children are at the helm. How any black person could be a part of this organisation is baffling. I can only surmise that they are either completely in the dark about the still relatively recent history of the church, or they've been thoroughly brainwashed.



The Mormon Church is growing exponentially across West Africa. There are over 100,000 Mormons in Nigeria alone at the moment. That number might not seem that large given Nigeria’s population, but we should keep in mind that most of the growth happened in just the last two decades. In 1983, Nigeria only had a little over 2,000 Mormons. The movement is still in its infancy; American Mormon missionaries have found a new frontier in West Africa, and they view proselytising and the conversion of “natives” as God’s work. We’ve been here before and we know how it turned out.

Map from 1913, in which the traditional cultures are dismissed as “heathen” (Source)

How Africa Got her groove whacked (Image courtesy of Egregores)


THE GOSPEL OF PROSPERITY



Another troubling aspect of the newfound hyper-religiosity of Africans is in faith healing, prophecy and prosperity gospel. Anywhere you see these kinds of teachings, calamity isn’t usually far behind. Faith healing is silently claiming the lives of many, while enriching the pastors who have become veritable superstars. Many sick people are instructed to stop taking their medication in favour of prayer and blessings. These charlatans claim to be able to cure cancer, HIV, blindness, paralysis and just about anything. It is heartbreaking to see the words of the African clergy cripple and stunt entire communities, but the trust and faith that many have in these pastors and what they preach is unbreakable. You simply cannot get someone who has such faith to consider the idea that maybe that perhaps a pastor can’t really bless someone and pray AIDS away, and I speak from personal experience of trying to get people to do just that. Some seem ready to die defending their pastors.



Nigerian pastors like David Oyedepo, Chris Oyakhilome and T.B. Joshua, to name a few, are living lavishly thanks to the gospel of prosperity. Flying around in private jets is the norm for the wealthiest pastors.

David Oyedepo is the wealthiest pastor in Nigeria with a net worth of around $150 million. He presides over a mega-church with a 50,000-person seating capacity, the largest church auditorium in the world. He has a global network of churches in hundreds of cities, and they all deify this man. He also assaulted a young girl for allegedly being a witch in front of his congregation.



Equally alarming as Oyedepo’s assault were his apologists, and there were lots and lots of them. The man is a vile opportunist who has built a fortune preaching nonsensical prosperity gospel and exploiting people who don’t know any better, but that doesn’t matter.

Recently in Accra, Ghana, thousands of congregants flocked to a Synagogue Church of All Nations service, to receive “miraculous holy water”, which they believed had healing powers. The church is run by T.B. Joshua, a Nigerian pastor who built his fortune on prophecies, faith healing and prosperity gospel. Of course, no one was healed of anything. What happened instead was a stampede by congregants eager to get the miraculous holy water. The stampede claimed the lives of four people and critically injured dozens more.

Often when we get wind of stories like the stampede in Accra or Oyedepo slapping a young girl with thousands in attendance cheering in approval, we usually react in one of two ways (and Africans who live abroad are particularly guilty of this). We either rationalise and excuse the behaviour by saying that most Africans are poor, so in trying times they turn to religion, no matter how dubious the preachers or absurd the religion may appear to be. Or we say that Africans are historically very pious and have simply merged indigenous beliefs with Christianity.

I won’t deny that poverty and hardship turn many to faith, but that does not explain the whole picture. Furthermore, Africans abroad are just as devout as the ones back home, and who would argue that Africans in the West are not, on average, in a better financial situation than their kin back home? All these mega churches aren’t being built in poor, remote villages. They are in large, urban centres where the congregants are the wealthy and poor alike, worshipping together. In fact, the wealthy people are favoured in prosperity gospel since they can tithe and donate more. That is the end goal. Prayers and blessings are given based on finance. The poor congregants aspire to be favoured and blessed like the rich ones. These days, prayers are doled out not only for salvation, but for monetary and material wealth. It’s not uncommon for pastors to pray for jets, cars, mansions and sacks of money. Just go to any prominent Nigerian prosperity gospel preacher’s Facebook page. You will be inundated with people hitting the “Like” button and typing ‘amen’ for a prayer of wealth. Often times, the preachers actually demand that you hit the “Like” button and type amen for such prayers.



Many of us today look at traditional African faith systems through a post-colonial lens. Vodoun from Benin, Yoruba Orishas, and other African belief systems are seen as interchangeable, when, in reality, they are all distinct and different practices. Colloquially, the layman will lump them all together and call it “Juju”. With the exception of Togo, no African nation has a population where the majority practices indigenous belief systems. They have either a Christian or a Muslim majority, so this idea of rogue African traditions running wild is not true at all. Furthermore, I find it telling that when faith systems are syncretised, it’s the African systems that are said to be responsible for barbarism, not the hitherto foreign beliefs. That speaks volumes about the collective mindset of many of us today: we remain mentally colonised.

Percentage of population practicing traditional religion

So while syncretised religions by Africans worldwide are nothing new, most of what is happening now is in no way related to traditional beliefs. The latest thing is the expulsion of “child witches”. This fairly recent development is led by preachers like Helen Ukpabio, and money, again, is at the root of it all. She married hardcore evangelical bible thumping with witchcraft, and built her Liberty Foundation Gospel Ministries into an international conglomerate that produces movies (all supernatural and usually dealing with child witchcraft), books and other products. She did all this by preaching about child witches and grew wealthy because of it. From Nigeria she has expanded into Ghana, Cameroon and South Africa. In one of her books, she wrote “If a child under the age of two screams in the night, cries and is always feverish with deteriorating health, he or she is a servant of Satan.” Again, this seems like really stupid stuff that any thinking person would scoff at, but her ministries are large and she has many followers. No one builds a following as large as hers on the fringe.

To reiterate, it isn’t “African tradition” to abandon, torture and murder children because you believe them to be witches, and it is foolhardy to call these human rights violations “African traditions”. Even if they were, that still wouldn’t excuse the actions. The larger question would be why many Africans are so trusting and quick to believe nonsense, and why they are joining hyper-religious movements in mass numbers, more so than anyone else on earth. I have no answer to that. Maybe you do.


NO BREATHING SPACE FOR UNBELIEVERS



Black people are not a monolith, but when it comes to matters of faith, individuality is not given much, if any, breathing space. This is true for black people across the diaspora, not just in Africa. On the subject of atheism, my experiences with African-Americans mirror my experiences with Africans. You’re supposed to fall in line and believe. Belief in God is the rule, not the exception, and being an atheist in any black community is heresy. It’s certainly not something black people feel they can wear proudly, so those who are atheists tend to keep their thoughts and feelings about who they really are to themselves.

Quite a few black people have confided in me about their atheism, and told me that they go to church because it is a custom, though they know deep down that they are non-believers. As mentioned in the video above, church is a place for gathering and being communal, not just a place of worship. The last thing you want to do if you grew up in a communal part of society is become an outcast, which is what could happen if you declare your atheism.

From an article about the taboo of atheism among African Americans: Black America's religious problem isn't that it's highly religious—most of America is religious—it's that, in my experience, it's highly religious to the point of exclusion, as if black people living their lives without God don't count. Black atheists or agnostics are often looked at by other blacks as alien or pitiable. Another [black atheist] in the Huffington Post said that declaring she was an atheist to her black friends was "social suicide." At least in this respect, Africans and African Americans see eye to eye.


DATING AS AN ATHEIST IN CHRISTIAN COUNTRY


The relevant scene begins at the 10:23 mark

In my experience, nothing meets with more negativity than telling a black woman you’re an atheist. I was once on a date that was going quite well until my date mentioned that she wanted to switch churches and asked which one I attended (note her assumption that I was a Christian). I told her I didn’t attend church. She paused, recovered, then said she knows some people who just privately read the bible and are non-denominational Christians. I told her I didn’t read the bible and that I was an atheist. From the look of sheer horror that spread across her face it was as if I’d just told her I was a pedophile. Her next words were that she could not be in the company of a man who was not “God-fearing” and that she had to leave. It’s something I can laugh about now, but it certainly wasn’t funny back then. For a few years, that single experience made me traverse carefully the subject of religion with black women, because, I discovered, if there is one thing many black women love, it’s Jesus. Go to any predominantly black church, and I guarantee you that the female congregants will be the majority.



After a few more negative experiences with black women as a result of being open about my atheism, I softened my approach. I wasn’t an atheist anymore; I became “spiritual”, which, in hindsight, was more or less meaningless. Nothing about my lack of belief in a God changed. I was still in fact an atheist, but identifying as spiritual proved to be more acceptable to black women. Even black women who weren’t devout were turned off at the mere idea of atheism. You had to have faith, even if you didn’t lead a life according to the tenets of Christianity. You simply weren’t going to get far denouncing God. I’ll never forget one individual who felt it was her duty to chastise me because of my atheism, and asked if I was a Satanist. I had to remind her that the only people who believe Satan exists are the religious. In fact, the basis of Christianity is doing everything you can to avoid spending an eternity with him in the afterlife. Despite this, many devout people still equate atheism with the devil.

Thus black atheists are in the closet, and remain so in their family life, their friendships, and in their romantic life. Whether you’re in Africa or in the African diaspora, you simply cannot denounce God in black communities without raising suspicion. The consequences are too heavy. So we remain in the closet while we attend religious services.

James Baldwin once said “I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticise her perpetually.” Likewise, my criticism is born out of love. Fortunately, the internet has given rise to more outspoken people, who in turn are letting others know that they aren’t alone (see AtheismAfrica: Secular values from an African perspective and FreeThoughtify. I am glad to see some push-back from black atheists; it’s long overdue. Maybe Africans and the African diaspora (and everyone else in the world) will one day cease ostracising people who don’t believe in sky gods. I certainly hope so. Everyone now loves Fela Kuti, especially Africans. If that is true, then we all need to listen to the lyrics of Shuffering and Shmiling and take what Fela said to heart.

Are mixed race Africans diluted-Africans ?

Original post:
http://www.thisisafrica.me/opinion/detail/19839/Half-caste%3A-on-the-idea-that-mixed-race-Africans-are-%22diluted%22-Africans

Half-caste: on the idea that mixed-race Africans are "diluted" Africans

by Melinda Ozongwu

Ones nationality can be determined by a number of factors, where you are born, where your parents are from, where you hold citizenship - politics combined with geography, circumstance and even choice. In my head there is nothing complicated about where I am from, until I’m challenged to prove it, and as an African of mixed race, defining and proving how Ugandan I am is something I am faced with quite often.
In the past when confronted with such a challenge, my sensitivity and emotions would affect my participation in the conversation. I would either defend myself by launching into a soliloquy in my mother tongue to prove that I belonged or, more often, I would simply remove myself from the conversation for fear of landing myself with a charge of aggravated assault. I have since matured, or maybe I’ve just become more tolerant of other people’s opinions of my identity. At any rate, I no longer feel the need to prove myself to anyone, so the most recent dispute of my Ugandan-ness couldn’t have come at a better time. A white American guy, he believed, after only a few months of living in Uganda, that he knew how to distinguish the “real Ugandans” from the “fake Ugandans”. He found my accent “different”, he said, and my English was apparently “too good”, my skin tone “too light” for me to be a true Ugandan. “Real” Ugandans, by implication, must be very dark and must speak English badly, and with a pronounced Ugandan accent, whatever that is. That it is practically impossible to find a single skin tone or way of speaking that represents all the people of a country doesn’t seem to have occurred to him.

This isn’t a woe is me story, I don’t feel hindered by the diversity in my heritage, but I do feel that not acknowledging challenges and obstacles faced by mixed-race Africans implies that there are none, or that all Africans are equally accepted, no matter how they look or sound. On many levels, the definition of “African” has ample space to be broadened, and somewhere within that definition one should find Africans of mixed-race, because there is a tendency to cast us aside, when we’re not being put on a pedestal.



I was about eleven years old when I came crying to my mother because a friend at school had called me a half-caste. She hadn’t meant to upset, bully or tease me, and even though I had never heard the term before, nor fully understood its origin or meaning, I did have a sense of what it meant and it pierced me deeply. I felt I was being described as some sort of Robinson Crusoe figure, a castaway lost at sea. I felt it implied, in a bad way, that I wasn’t like everyone else. Half-caste may have been the first label I was uncomfortable with, but it wouldn’t be the last one given to me. The most confusing was “mzungu”, because that’s what I called white people. So why were people calling me white? I would look over my shoulder for the white person they are referring to, because it couldn’t possibly be me. Even as a grown woman, I find myself looking around for the mzungu because being called white doesn’t resonate with me and it never will, regardless of the percentage of “whiteness” in my heritage.

When it comes to words used to describe people of mixed ethnicity, the context, definition and interpretation all affect how one receives them. I know people who take offense at being called mixed-race and others who don’t, some who prefer the term biracial, some who embrace their white culture as much as their African culture, some who are offended when called mulatto and others who comfortably use the term “colored”. Then there are those who only want to tick the African box, no compromises, variations or explanations. At the core all of these terms is the conscious or sub-conscious attempt to dilute the African in ones identity, so it is understandable that not everyone is comfortable with this.

Most of the discrimination I have experienced for being mixed-race has come from other Africans, and that’s what offends me the most. I couldn't care less about the opinion of the American man I mentioned above, the one who thought I was too “different” to be Ugandan; his opinion was ill-informed on so many levels - partly his fault and partly to do with the way the world chooses to see things – so his comments are not difficult to disregard. But when it’s my own countrymen and women, yes, I take it to heart.



There are occasions where I enter a room, and can tell before saying a word that some immediately assume I believe I’m “better” than “real Ugandans”. I think this stems from the feelings of inferiority some black people feel with regard to any degree of whiteness. I look around me here and every billboard portraying beauty is of a light-skinned woman, every advert telling us how to be more attractive is subliminally telling us to bleach that dark skin, and men go on about how beautiful light-skinned women are. Something about this imagery and mindset makes people believe that a mixed-race person has it easier than everyone else and, as we all know, no one likes a cheat or someone with an unfair advantage. Honestly though, there is some truth in the assumption, at least on a cosmetic level, and as a woman I can understand that to an observer it may look as though I walk through life getting my way without lifting a finger. There are people who can’t run fast enough to help, assist or simply be in the company of mixed-race Africans. Am I part of the problem if I don’t acknowledge and challenge that mentality every time I experience or suspect it? Probably, but if I did I would be doing it all the time, with no hard evidence, and the last time I checked knocking down kindness, regardless of the motive and subtext, is not good for ones karma. Putting mixed-race Africans on a pedestal creates tension, builds barriers and continues to separate people, with the knock-on effect of internalized racism. If you keep telling people they are wealthier, more attractive and more powerful because they have a fair complexion, then some of them will start to believe it, and their children will believe it, and schools will teach it by not challenging it, and the corporate world will continue to sell it.

There are people who feel quite comfortable being on the pedestal because of their fairer skin tone, and they take the utmost advantage of it. They expect it and they mistreat and disrespect people with darker skin, believing and glorifying in the hype. They are the reason those who aren’t like that have to fight harder to be accepted, but it becomes a chicken or the egg scenario, who is to blame?

The assumed privileges of being put on a pedestal are probably why mixed-race Africans are “punished” by exclusion, and seen as not really African, or as diluted Africans.

An African of mixed race may have family members from different cultures and with different traditional backgrounds, they make speak foreign languages, they may “look different”, “sound different”, you may think their sense of patriotism is over the top, heightened because they have lived away from Africa or want to prove their African-ness, or you may be angry because they have withdrawn from their African-ness for whatever reason, you may think they are more attractive because they may have curly “mixed” hair or green eyes, and you may get angry when she dates “real African” men, but all these differences, real or imagined, mean nothing unless you give them meaning. I’ve been disliked and mistreated many times purely because I’m mixed, but I’ve never been able to acknowledge said attacks at the time they occurred because the attacks are usually covert; it’s hard to prove an attack is taking place when it’s implied. But if I could, if I had the chance, if someone was brave enough to tell me what the real problem was, I’ll say what I’ve rehearsed in my head many times: if you get the stick out of your @s$, so will I.