The History of Yemaya, Santeria's Queenly Ocean Goddess Mermaid

From the Yoruba religion, Yemaya was brought over to the New World by enslaved Africans as early as the 16th century.

There has been a lot of discussion about mermaids lately. On Wednesday, it was announced that Chloe x Halle singer Halle Bailey would be cast as Ariel in the live-action remake of Disney’s The Little Mermaid. What was meant to be a celebratory moment for the talented artist, became a heated dialogue on social media about the validity of having a young black woman play a white animated character adapted from a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale.

But the origin story of mermaids is one of diverse folklore and spirituality, that spans across the world in many different iterations, with some being of African descent.

Often depicted as a queenly mermaid, Yemaya is considered the Ocean Mother Goddess in Santería, an Afro-Caribbean religion practiced around the world. With anchored roots in the Yoruba religion, Yemaya was brought over to the New World by enslaved Africans as early as the 16th century.

As one of the eldest children of Olodumare, the Supreme Being or Creator of the Universe, Yemaya is one of the most widely worshipped of the Orishas or “demi-gods” associated with different elements or forces of nature. As an oral tradition, Yemaya’s attributes, manifestations, and origin stories can vary depending on where you are in the world (especially between Brazil, Cuba, Haiti, and the US), including the pronunciation and spelling of her name.

Yemaya is perhaps the most nurturing of all the Orishas, and it’s believed that all of life comes from her deep nourishing waters. Her strong and protective energy can be found virtually everywhere, but especially near oceans and lakes. She’s associated with the numbers seven and ten, the colors blue and white, pearls, silver, conch shells, and doves. Offerings for her include molasses, coconut cakes, white flowers, and watermelon.

For practicing witches, Yemaya has a fierce, nurturing, gentle energy often associated with the moon and sorcery. As the "Mother of All," she is said to help in matters of self-love, fertility, emotional wounds, trauma, and healing work. But if you cross her, disrespect her terrain, or hurt one of her children, she has a serious anger streak. Wielding a broad blade, she’s known to “bathe in the blood of her enemies,” or manifest in the form of a tidal wave.

The story of Yemaya was originally brought over to Cuba via the transatlantic slave trade. Since Cuba was occupied and colonized by Catholic Spaniards, the practice of Santería was illegal. Under the highly-censored, Communist rule of Fidel Castro following the Cuban Revolution, the religion continued to be outlawed, and it was only until recently that it was openly recognized and legalized in the island country.

Like many religious practices outside the dominant norm, the Orishas and their symbolism, rituals, and folklore had to be kept a secret, and eventually syncretized with those of the Roman Catholic Church. And who is the reigning Lady in Catholicism? Mother Mary, of course.

Eventually, the practitioners, priests, and priestesses of Santería slowly syncretized the Goddess of the Sea – Yemaya – with the image of Mother Mary. In iconography, both holy mother figures are shown dressed in blue and white. One seen as giving birth to the son of God and one gave birth to all living things. Although the Virgin Mary is traditionally depicted as a white woman (a misrepresentation in history, but that’s another story), Yemaya is depicted as a woman of color. Radiantly rising from the sea, her dark skin shining under the moon, Yemaya rules over her domain with grace, beauty, and maternal wisdom.

It is said that Yemaya’s spirit transcends all, but it’s easier for us to understand divine forces when we attribute human qualities to them; from the Greeks to the Christians to the Hindus, virtually every world religion has done this for all iterations of modern "mermaids".

Yemaya is also often depicted as a mermaid. But symbols and iconography have a way of grounding the spiritual into something more tangible so that we can better understand it. And Yemaya exists outside narrow boxes of classification, outside of iconography. She takes all forms, yet we strive to put a face to her. It’s not her race, clothes, or even geographical limitations that define her, but rather her powerful presence.

Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue