Afro-Brazilian religions that emerged in Brazil during the colonial period, significantly influenced by African spiritual traditions transmitted by enslaved people as well as Christianity and Amerindian belief systems. Many misconceptions surround these religions in Brazil and in the West, as they are often wrongly equated with witchcraft and/or satanic practices. This misperception has led to religious intolerance, systematic violence and the suppression of spiritual practice. This Religion Factor post is based on an interview discussion between Babalorixá Lucas Takashima, Dr. Manoela Carpenedo Rodrigues, and Nathan Harrison-Clarke. The aim of this post is to increase the religious literacy surrounding Afro-Brazilian religions, its context and history of syncretism, including a discussion of the systemic violence and intolerance faced by members of Candomblé and Umbanda in Brazil. Due to the stigma and persecution surrounding these religious traditions, it is important to engage in dialogue to break misconceptions and understand the daily struggles faced by Afro-Brazilian practitioners.

Lucas Takashima is a 24-year-old spiritual leader, or Babalorixá, of an Umbanda and Candomblé temple in Belém, Brazil. Upon initiation, each practitioner receives an Orunkó, a name with symbolic spiritual meaning unique to the individual. Lucas’s spiritual name, Olôsundê, means “son of gold.” In Candomblé and Umbanda, teachings are passed orally to devotees and future generations. Lucas has been training to become a spiritual leader since he was 7 years old, and inherited his spiritual position from his great-grandmother. 

Understanding Spirituality in Candomblé and Umbanda 

Candomblé and Umbanda are religions that developed independently, yet, in some contexts, they are practiced in a syncretic way. Candomblé is particularly known for its emphasis on deity veneration, called Orixás. In Umbanda, spiritual guides are typically worshipped to support issues related to health, money, love, and spiritual wellbeing. Each religion is intwined with indigenous beliefs and Catholicism, and feature elements of spiritual possession, deity worship, animal sacrifice, divination, and prayer. 

Nathan: Firstly, could you tell us more about your personal practice, and your spiritual guide? 

Lucas: My biggest spiritual guide, the one who has been with me from the start, is a gypsy woman named Esmeralda. She says she was born in Évora, a city in southern Portugal, and that she lived many centuries ago. Back then, she was what we might call a “witch”—not in the Hollywood sense, but as someone who revered the sun, moon, and nature, seeing it as sacred. She’s my primary mentor, guiding me on which paths to take. Esmeralda is the one who ultimately decides everything within the temple. Everyone comes to me because of her influence. I also connect with Oxum*, but only on specific days, usually at the end of the year.

Most of the time, people come to the temple seeking help with a problem. We have members who want to develop their spirituality or manage certain spiritual challenges—they want to worship the same deities, wear the white clothes, and jewellery, and be part of the community. But we also get visitors looking for help with specific issues, like love or money.

Manoela: So, typically, people come with problems related to money, love, and health?

Lucas: Yes, but in my temple, it’s mostly love problems. About eighty percent of people come to seek guidance on their love lives. They’re looking for a spell or a ritual to find some kind of resolution. That’s why many people view our practices as linked to matters of love and prosperity. 

Nathan: Could you tell us more about the use of statues in Umbanda?

Lucas: Yes. In Umbanda, we use many statues. Each statue represents a different deity. You’ll find statues made from different materials, like plaster, wood, or iron, many of which represent Orixás—such as Oxum (Goddess of Lakes and Waterfalls) and Yemanjá (Goddess of the Oceans). Other figures, known as Guides, are Spiritual Mentors working in the spiritual realm to help people in various ways.

Protecting Spiritual Beliefs Through Syncretic Practices

Catholicism was enforced on enslaved people arriving in Brazil. Between 1501 and 1866, an estimated 4 million to 5 million enslaved Africans were brought to Brazil. While the Catholic Church benefitted enormously from the slavery, Afro-Brazilian religions underwent a period of enforced invisibility, during which they were vilified as “black magic”. The country’s penal code prohibited the practice of Afro-Brazilian religions, leading to artifacts from Candomblé and Umbanda being purged or confiscated. Enslaved people resisted the colonial suppression of their traditions and identities, transforming their approach to Christian symbols and rituals to protect their spiritual practices. 

Lucas: In the past, when people wanted to worship an Orisha, such as Oxum, the goddess of waterfalls, they weren’t allowed or able to worship a Black deity openly. They had to replace the Black idol—a Black woman dressed in yellow—with a Christian saint as a disguise. For instance, they paired Our Lady of Aparecida with Oxum. So, when the overseers came into the “senzalas” where enslaved people lived, they would see a Christian saint rather than an Orisha. But inside the statue, they would hide a sacred stone called an Okutá. This was the safest place for them to keep these items hidden from those who might destroy or desecrate them. They hid them within a Christian saint or another important religious object.

The Okutá stone would act as a symbol of transformation, allowing enslaved practitioners of Candomblé and Umbanda to maintain their spiritual practices in secret. They adopted syncretic approaches to their spiritual traditions as a means of survival. The legacies of these adaptations continue to shape the contemporary practice of these religions. For example, many statues of Orishas are depicted as white figures, far removed from their Afro-Brazilian culture and history.

Lucas: Today, some spiritual leaders incorporate Catholic statues, while others use traditional Umbanda statues. In my temple, I also keep Catholic statues—out of respect for my great-grandmother. She used to venerate the statue of Jesus Christ, but to her, he wasn’t Jesus; he was Oxalá, God of peace.

The most famous image of Yemajá, the one most people recognise, is always portrayed as white. Yemajá is the mother of all beings, the great mother of the Orishas. But the current image we have of Yemajá shows her as a white, thin figure with straight hair. This doesn’t represent the Black or Latino image we might expect. If you go to Africa, you’ll find a very different portrayal of Yemajá. This white image was only created about 40 years ago. It’s relatively new. So, we need to reflect and discuss how people perceive Black deities, Black idols—because these Orishas are Black. Yet, when people today see a Black god or goddess, there’s often a reluctance or difficulty in fully accepting them. Nowadays, when I buy another statue, I always choose to worship black images.

Enacting Change Through Open Dialogue

Members of Afro-Brazilian religions continue to face systematic prejudice in contemporary Brazil, where practices are often labelled as ‘witchcraft’ and ‘devil worship’. Religious statues continue to be targets of vandalism. Practitioners choose not to wear their spiritual clothes in public for fear of facing discrimination or physical assault. Religious temples across the country are routinely attacked and even burnt down. The impact of these social pressures continues to have a very real impact on practitioners of Afro-Brazilian religions in Brazil.

Lucas: Our clothing and the jewellery we wear in our rituals—called guias, brajás, or rosários—are sacred to us. They hold deep meaning. But most of the time, we only wear them indoors.

Manoela: So, you don’t wear symbols of your faith in public? Why is that?

Lucas: Not in public, no. I think people try to avoid potentially negative situations or judgment. As a spiritual leader, I do wear them publicly, but I often feel the need to protect my members. When they come to the temple, they take a shower, change into white clothes, and wear their sacred jewellery indoors. But when the ritual ends, and they leave to go home or elsewhere, they have to change again.

Manoela: You warn them not to go out dressed in their spiritual clothes?

Lucas: Exactly. We’ve had many cases of racism, of people who don’t accept our religion. Within my spiritual family, I have two brothers who went out to pick up some things for their home, wearing white clothes, spiritual clothes. They had a bad experience—people started pointing at them. Some still hold outdated, negative views.

Although these negative experiences persist, there have been important moves towards protecting the freedom of religion in Brazil. Article 5 of the Brazilian constitution ensures political and legal rights for the protection of minority religions.

Manoela: How do you think this return to African and Indigenous roots of Afro-Brazilian religions connects with the systemic racism and religious discrimination experienced in Brazil?

Lucas: I think we’ve made significant progress in the last few decades, especially with changes in the law. Now, I'm not Black; I’m Brazilian, with Japanese and European ancestry. But I’m also part of important African-rooted religions, so I'm protected under anti-racism laws, including protections against religious discrimination. If anyone tries to question my religion, my beliefs, or my views on spirituality—that’s considered a crime in Brazil. Here, racism isn’t just about skin colour; it’s about culture and faith. So, it’s no longer acceptable for anyone to judge or discriminate against any religion, especially Umbanda and Candomblé.

As we have seen, Afro-Brazilian religions survived colonial influences by developing a tradition of secrecy. The protection of its esoteric practices and teachings were maintained by its history of oral transmission, and important spiritual practices were reserved for devout practitioners within temple walls. The Christian desecration of spiritual artifacts exacerbated the importance of secrecy to a tradition at risk of losing its traditions to colonial powers. Today, these religious systems have largely been transformed into public religions (Johnson 2002). The move to more open dialogue has contributed to the dismantling of misconceptions surrounding Afro-Brazilian religions.

Lucas: As a religious leader, I support discussing the topic with ethics and responsibility through social media and public religious discussion events. There are no longer the infamous “secrets of Candomblé.” Discussions has led to greater social acceptance and the ability to respect different religious ideologies. Thus, the government, alongside racial protection agencies, religious communities, and public educational institutions, must unite to find ways to mitigate religious intolerance in public spaces and Christian churches, as well as to provide informative dialogues that enrich the public consciousness, as this interview does.

*Oxum is a prominent orixá in the Afro-Brazilain pantheon. She is associated with freshwater, rivers, fertility, beauty, love, and wealth.

Bibliography and Further Reading:

Bastide, Roger. 2007. The African Religions of Brazil: Toward a Sociology of the Interpenetration of Civilizations. Maryland: John Hopkins University Press.

Boaz, Danielle N. 2021. Banning Black Gods Law and Religions of the African Diaspora. Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press.

Johnson, Paul Christopher. 2002. Secrets, Gossip, and Gods: The Transformation of Brazilian Candomblé. Oxford: Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/0195150589.001.0001

We would like to thank Babalorixá Lucas Takashima for his involvement in this interview.