Recalling Mother Campbell I’ll just back up a little bit. Shortly after arriving in Panama from what at the time had been my honeymoon trip, I found myself showing up at the door of Mother Campbell in Rio Abajo. She, even at that time after many years had passed without hearing from me in the United States, remembered me, whom she had known since I was a child. I had always admired her for always carrying an authoritative demeanor as the “Madame” I had known since I was about eight years of age and whose church was a frequent stop for my grandmother and me. Continue reading
The African-derived religions of our childhood in Panama, the religion we Westindians referred to as Beji-Nite, in particular, I would later encounter in my research of extracts of religions practised in ancient times in certain regions of Central Africa. It would then be safe for me to conclude that it is an ancient African tradition for women to take on the role of intermediary with the Spirits for the protection of their family, the clan, and, in fact, the general environment. Continue reading
This is Lloyd Lovindeer, master of
Pocomania Day in Jamaica, who typifies
the elements of the Beji-Nite Church.
As promised in previous posts in which I chronicled religious ceremonies I witnessed in Panama, I will delve a little deeper into the African derived religious practices in our American continent. Actually, it wasn’t until I began my university studies that I discovered a greater interest in studying the subject of our religions and I had to resort to my childhood experiences to find a point of reference to claim that our Silver People of Panama had anything similar in their religious practices. Continue reading
Maracuya or Passion fruit
As the day progressed, our hostess, Miss Luisa, became more and more secure with educated young guests, which prompted her to tell us the story of her life. The more talkative she became the more this writer was taken back into a period of history which had never been written, and which led me to discover that my ancestors, the West Indian Blacks, had walked the same path daily as the unemployed workers long ago in a City of Panama that was still annexed to the country of Colombia. Continue reading