Stories of Our Ancestors

Aurora Lamar - Oba T’ola

Known as “La China de Maximiliano,” Aurora Lamar was a prolific Iyalorisha crowned to the fiery volcanic Orisha Agayú in Havana, Cuba during the first half of the 20th Century. Initiated by the renowned José “Pata de Palo” (Wooden Leg) Urquiola, Echú Bí, who bridged the gap between Havana and Matanzas, Lamar is credited as the founder of our ilés lineage - Pimienta. There are two explanations for the name of this lineage: one, that Lamar ran a large brothel in her El Cerro house and initiated all or most of the women working there; or two, that her house was located in the Barrio Ataré, a neighbourhood known by the Lucumí word for hot pepper.

Though famous for the tattoo on her leg in honour of her ex-lover/ex-husband Maximiliano, Lamar married Babalawo José Ramón Gutiérrez, but maintained a very active presence as an Iyalorisha in her own right. She was known as “La China de la Ten Cent” in recognition of her almond-shaped eyes (a common nickname convention among Afro-Cubans of the 19th and early 20th Century), and, more importantly, because of her willingness to work out payment plans for initiations. While most priests then and now insist on taking lump sum payments for the often costly kariocha initiation, Lamar gave people the opportunity to pay her back in instalments. Until she was paid back, she would hold the person’s Orishas. Lamar’s lineage is now one of the most well-known and prolific across the world.

Fermina Gómez - Ocha Bí

Known in life as Ferminita Gómez Pastrana, this Orisha priestess is so remembered for her connection to the worship Olokún that many believe she was a priestess of Olokún herself. However, research by Armando Ferrer Castro and Mayda Acosta Alegre suggests that she was initially made to Ochún by “Ño José” - likely José Pata de Palo above - but that this “didn’t go well,” and Shangó priestess Ma Monserrate González, Obá Teró, reinitiated her to Yemayá. Obá Teró was also responsible for giving Fermina Olokún, Some suggest that Ma Monserrate González may have been Fermina’s birth mother, as well.

Fermina Gómez’s house still stands, crumbling, in Matanzas, where it is known as the “Cabildo of Feminita Gómez.” Inside this house, Femina gave out many Olokún, becoming one of the two primary lineages of Olokún in the Lucumí world today. She was known to be extremely well-versed in the ceremonies of Olokún and owned the final set of goblet-shaped Olokún drums in Lucumí. The secrets of how to make and play these drums were lost when she passed. Along with the Olokún masks, whose secrets she similarly took to the grave, these drums are preserved as some of the most sacred and mysterious objects in the religion.

Roberto Clemente - Aña’Bí Ochún

Responsible in large part for the proliferation of Lucumí in the San Francisco Bay Area during the 1980s and 1990s, Roberto Clemente is a beloved part of our ilés direct lineage. Roberto was a priest of Oshún who helped bridge the gaps between the Latino and African American sections of the Lucumí community in the Bay Area.

Asuncion “Sunta” Serrano - Osa Unko

Asuncion “Sunta” Serrano (1902-1986), Osa Unko, was a trail-blazing priest of Obatala. A Puerto Rican woman who lived in the Bronx, Sunta was initiated in Cuba prior to the Revolution by Olga Morales, Oshun Funke, who was herself initiated by the great Aurora Lamar mentioned above.

Sunta was one of the first priests to break the racial and cultural barrier in the emerging Lukumí community in New York in the 1960s. During that time, many African Americans who were in search of a spiritual component to the growing Black Power movement turned to Lucumí but faced difficulties due to both the language barrier and the unwillingness of some Cubans to work with them. Sunta is remembered for her work with Oseijiman Adefunmi’s Yoruba Temple in East Harlem, initiating many African Americans there into the religion. Adefunmi (1928-2005; Efuntola), the first known African American to travel to Cuba for initiation in the late 1950s, himself could not initiate others as he was meant to become a Babalawo, so he worked very closely with Sunta. She is also the Godmother of Judith Gleason (1929-2012), Oyalola, the first white American initiate in the Lukumí religion in 1962. Gleason gives a moving, if lightly fictionalized, account of Sunta in her novel Santería, Bronx (1975).

Sunta, alongside Adefunmí and Cristobal Oliana (1924-1994; Oba Ilu Mí), was part of the first generation of priests in New York City and planted the seeds that spread the religion throughout the United States and, eventually, much of the world.

Shloma Rosenberg - Clay Keck - Afolabí

Afolabí was a Jewish-American priest made to Yemayá in the late 1980s after learning about the religion through friendships with Black drag queens and trans women in Los Angeles. After he relocated back to Michigan, he was initiated by Sandra Leon, Omidara, in Miami, Florida. When he returned home, Afolabí rapidly built the first recognized ilé in the state of Michigan, going on to initiate 22 Olorisha over the next two decades. He was part of the Culo Verde lineage descended from José Pata de Palo.

Both proudly queer and a socialist, Afolabí was active in the fight against homophobia within the religion which had sharply risen during the early years of the AIDS crisis. He was widely known and respected for his knowledge as a skilled diloggún diviner. Afolabí made friends far and wide as one of the first generation of priests to connect through the internet in the ‘90s. His websites featured photos of his richly adorned Orisha shrines, which are now frequently found uncredited on other people’s websites and Instagram accounts.

A close friend with the senior priest of our ilé, Afolabí brought a number of people who subsequently joined our house into the religion through the pre-initiation ceremonies of elekes, warriors, and Olokun before his death in 2009. He is greatly missed! Iba’e.

Miguel Chaidez - Salakó

Known affectionately by many in our ilé as “Dad,” Miguel was a priest of Obatala. Remembered for his lifelong love of the LA Dodgers, and the heart he brought to all of the work he did within the religion, Miguel was adored by all who knew him.

Johnny McQuillan - Oshún Yemí

Initiated in 2016, this soft-spoken Kiwi was a greatly loved member of our ilé. Widely known in the London tarot community through his work at Treadwell’s Bookshop, Johnny created the gorgeous London Lore Tarot deck, and at the time of his passing was hard at work on a follow up deck based around the Odu of Lucumí. He was a gifted artist, a quiet and kind person, a proud trans man, and a promising young priest of Oshún. He is greatly missed and will be remembered for his beadwork, illustrations, and deep love for Oshún.

K. Keith Martini - Ochún guerre

June 23rd 1965- May 18th 2007

”Keith was my godson. I was introduced to him last year by a mutual friend. She thought that the two of us would be a good match. Several conversations and finally a visit and he knew he had found the right home. I remember the first time he walked into my home, it was five o’clock in the morning and he had jumped in a car with his two god-sisters and hitched a ride from Portland so we could finally meet. He told me the plate and obis were already in his suitcase.

I have always had a close relationship with death. I came out as a dyke in 1983 and AIDS was taking more people than I could ever count. London was new, drugs and alcohol were everywhere, suicides and overdoses were not unusual. I lost more friends and acquaintances and went to more funerals than I ever would want to count. Death does not frighten me in the same way and yet despite all that this week I have been so sad, tears fall easily. I find it hard to look at Keith’s picture, to write or to talk about him. I have been encouraged to do so and I guess it is finally time.

Keith truly felt like he had found a home, not just because of his ajubonna and me but because of all of his god-brothers and god-sisters too. He felt like he had a place where he belonged. Whether it was discussing anal sex at the dinner table or having a conversation with his god-brother whilst opening obi that no-one dare repeat to me, Keith knew that nothing would shock me and that I would love him regardless. Isn’t that what we all want, to be loved for who we are? Keith was rude and had a foul mouth and he knew that I loved him for that too. He had always covered a tattoo that read, “McNasty” on the back of his neck, either with a scarf or a high shirt. He thought that others would find it offensive. In this ile, we thought it fit right in. He was nasty. He never again covered the tattoo while he was here.

Keith could also say the sweetest things at the hardest times. He would always see the silver lining in every situation; he was truly one of Oshun’s children. He had faced many difficult times due to other people and their lack of character and he was still able to find something good to say about those people, even when others were still so angry on his behalf. There was not a hint of bitterness and would thank those same people because if he hadn’t met them he knew he wouldn’t be the same person.

Keith was my godchild and that made the bond different than it would for a friend or acquaintance. I did not crown Keith nor give him any orishas, I had only the time to accept a plate from him for Ochossi, in so many ways he came to us too late. Technically we were not bound by otan or dillogun. None of that matters to me. He was very special to me because of generosity and kindness. He had found a home where he was accepted, where he was loved and where he will always be missed. I am sure we can all identify with that desire to feel wanted, to fit in and to be welcomed. Thank god he found somewhere he could call home. Thank God I met Keith.” - Ode Lenu