Sankofa Stories: Calling Back Our African Feminist Wisdom

Let's be honest. Navigating this world often feels like swimming upstream in a raging river. We're bombarded with information, much of it designed to distract, divide, and keep us questioning our own realities. In this era of rampant capitalism and pervasive patriarchy – systems that seem to put hierarchies on people, worship the bottom line above all else, even at the detriment of the well-being of people and our planet – it's easy to feel flooded and hopelessly lost. But for African feminists, there's a particular sting, a quiet ache for the stories that have been lost, made invisible, or outright erased.

These aren't just historical footnotes; they are the very fabric of our resistance, our resilience, and our power. They are the whispers of our grandmothers, the freedom songs of our mothers, the fierce poetry of our sisters – testimonies of survival, of pushing back, of simply being unapologetic in a world that often tries to diminish us.

Think about it. How many brilliant insights, how many acts of quiet defiance, how many groundbreaking moments of creative expression have faded into obscurity because they weren't deemed important enough to record? How many times have our narratives been co-opted, twisted, or silenced altogether? Even as I say it, write it, its enough to make me want to throw my hands up in exasperation at the sheer audacity of it all.

But here's the thing: those stories haven't entirely vanished. They live in our collective memory, in the rhythm of a drum, in the motif of fabric, the shared glance of understanding between women. And in a world desperate for authentic voices, reclaiming and preserving these African feminist, radical change makers’ insights are not just an intellectual pursuits; but acts of revolutionary warfare to replace despair with hope, and to manifest and embody by the potent concept of Sankofa and the power stories have to revitalise our weary bones and souls.

Sankofa, a word from the Akan people of Ghana, is often represented by a bird with its head turned backward, taking an egg from its back. The literal translation is "go back and get it." But its meaning runs far deeper. Sankofa is a philosophy, an Adinkra symbol, that teaches us the importance of returning to the past to inform the present and build the future. It's a reminder that we cannot move forward effectively without understanding where we came from, without gathering the wisdom, the lessons, and the power of those who walked before us.

For African feminists, Sankofa is not just a beautiful metaphor; it is a vital call to action. It urges us to actively go back and retrieve the lost, invisible, and erased narratives of African women's resistance, creativity, and intellectual contributions. It acknowledges that the forces of colonialism, slavery, and ongoing patriarchal systems have attempted to sever our connection to this rich past, but that the power to reclaim it lies within us.

Why does this matter so much, especially now? 

Easy, because false information and propaganda thrive in the absence of truth. When our own histories are obscured, it becomes easier for others to define us, to tell us who we are, and to perpetuate harmful stereotypes. Capitalism tells us our worth is measured by what we produce and consume, while patriarchy insists on a rigid order that keeps us in check. These systems benefit from our disconnection – from our sense of self and our bodies, from each other, from our history, and ultimately from our power.

But our Sankofa stories are a potent antidote. They remind us that resistance is not new, that joy is a form of rebellion, and that even in the face of overwhelming odds, we have always found ways to push back, to create, and to thrive. They connect us to a lineage of fierce, insightful, and resilient women who navigated challenges with courage and wisdom.

Recently I had the privilege to be involved in an African transnational feminist writeshop a space where African women came together to conspire to boldly write and their ideas, stories and insights around their social movements. I leaned back and watched in awe as they skillfully wove together their wisdom, richness, and the depth of their personal stories. Their shared struggles across the continent highlighted the power of siblinghood and solidarity. Together, they created a reservoir of knowledge around the sacred work of advocating for gender justice. These are the threads we need to pull on, guided by the spirit of Sankofa, to weave into a tapestry that showcases the multifaceted nature of African feminisms. It's about recognizing the different stories that already exist, finding the similarities in our own experiences, and creating our own narratives. It's about pinpointing individual journeys within a vast collection of shared experiences, seeing how different kinds of struggle have shaped these narratives, and sharing around that to find inspiration, a sense of belonging and an oasis of collective strength.

Cultivating and preserving these Sankofa stories – whether through written words, audio recordings, visual art, or music, slam, dance performance – is crucial. These recordings are more than just archives; they are living testaments to our memories, our milestones, our voices, our sentiments, and our fierce clinging to resistance. They are provocation for today's feminists, a reminder that these paths has been walked on before, and that we are not alone in our struggles. They provoke us to think critically, to question the dominant narratives, and to find new ways to resist and create and articulate our outrage and call for justice, truth and freedom drawing strength from the past.

In a world saturated with carefully curated, often inauthentic content, there is a profound power in hearing an unfiltered story, a raw reflection, a voice that resonates with truth, a voice that echoes the wisdom of Sankofa. These are the stories that cut through the noise, that challenge the status quo, and that offer a glimpse of a different way of being.

Let’s celebrate the myriad ways we capture and share our Sankofa stories – through the lyrical protests embedded in our music, the poignant truths held within our poems, our stageplays, our art or the unvarnished honesty of our spoken words. These forms of expression are not merely entertainment; they are containers of hope, helping us hold onto the belief that healing, liberation, and justice are not just abstract concepts, but tangible possibilities within our reach.

This work of reclaiming and celebrating our Sankofa stories is not just about preserving history for history's sake. It is about actively shaping our future. It's about ensuring that our voices are not just heard, but valued, respected, and amplified. By sharing our narratives, we empower ourselves and inspire others to recognize their own power, to question the misinformation, and to rise up against the systems that seek to keep us down, all while grounded in the wisdom filtered from the past.

Our Sankofa stories are our superpower, and it's time we wield them with the full force of our collective strength. The future we envision, one where our voices are central and our experiences are honored, is not a distant dream; it is built on the foundations of the stories we retrieve and tell today.