Written by Oladoyin Alana
The first time I summoned courage to question the church, I was in my teenage years. I couldn’t understand why my friend, Ruth*, refused to attend service one Sunday. When I asked why, she said, “I’m in an unholy state and might defile the church.” She was on her period. By the time she had completed her cycle, and as if nothing had happened, she diligently returned to her duties as a choir girl and church help.
I was raised Catholic, so the idea that women belonged in the church but only in certain roles and under certain conditions wasn’t foreign to me. But Ruth’s absence that Sunday stayed with me. It was the first crack in the foundation of my faith. But was it really the first? I was a little girl asking why a woman cannot become a priest and the reason Saint Maria Goretti had to forgive her murderer. After much religious brainwashing, I was always settled with the common “forgive your enemies and love your neighbours as yourself.”
These thoughts and questions aren’t unique to me. Across generations, settlements, and church denominations, Black women have really questioned their place in the church. The place they are expected to serve and endure different discriminatory practices, from limited leadership roles in the church to more recent restrictions on reproductive choices and autonomy. And now, even more are choosing to leave.
The Black Church, despite being a place of refuge and standing as the foundation for oppressed people brutalised by slavery, murdered, and told when and where to go during the Jim Crow Era, has had a lot of discrimination within its own walls. Gender discrimination has been a sustained problem in the Black Church and based on the interpretation of certain biblical terms, many believe that women are not to teach God’s words.
Caucasian and Black congregations have debated against the ordination of women. Banbury (2014) mentioned that common contentions that have opposed the ordination of women have included that women must be silent, women are prohibited by scripture, and women must remain subjected to men. It is also note-worthy that such discrimination particularly stems from the parent church—the Catholic Church—where it does not ordain women as priests nor give them the privileges attached to it.
WOMEN SHARE THEIR REASONS FOR LEAVING
Speaking to Elizabeth*, a former Catholic, she explains that “the church finds its way to sugarcoat sexism and it doesn’t appeal to me anymore. They try to convince you that being a Sister or a Nun is also something you can aspire to be, or like it is also your call, your vocation, but far from it. How many sisters get ordained and the church gives them a car to themselves or even pays them stipends? The priest collects the offerings; a sister cannot because she’s not expected to. Nonsense!”
For Wunmi*, “I started disliking the church when I was 9 and the pastor told my father to stop letting me wear pyjamas to the church because it’s considered a trouser. Father took it to the extreme and said I’ll never even wear one; it made no sense to me because it’s more comfortable than a skirt.” She adds, “I was 15 when I first read Dan Brown’s book, ‘Angels and Demons,’ and I started my research about Christianity as an organised religion. I didn’t need much proof; I could feel the misogyny in the church and it irritated me.”
“The misgivings about religion have always existed in my mind. I felt no significant shift as I’d have expected after my first holy communion, and I never heard the voice of god and I went for confessions after confessions for the same sins.” – Vanessa
Aaliyaweh says, “I left mostly because of my family being overly religious; I hated how much of a hypocrite they were; anytime I go to church, the pastors are always seeing visions of misery and the lives of the people in the church are not where I envision them to be; plus, I started reading the Bible more and just didn’t like God.
Firstly, it was when I was applying for admission and their delusion burst out. I was asked to buy a chair for the church and I will get the admission. I did and I got the admission, lol, but I didn’t believe I got admitted because I got a chair for the church; I read a lot and knew I deserved it.
After my first year in school, a lump with a sore started growing on my breast. At this point, I was already agnostic; I showed my mom and aunt the lump and they made fun of me instead; they said it’s because I wasn’t grateful to God for the admission and they said their pastor in church preached that God’s punishment to people is cancer. They said it was because I hated family and I am ungrateful; that’s why God gave me cancer. I knew then and there that I didn’t want to have anything to do with such a god, so I became an atheist.”
Like Aaliyaweh, Oluchi also rejects “how God can choose to answer some people’s prayers and not answer other people’s homes. Like how God had the power to make the world feel alright but decided we had to have a relationship with him, starve, and pray to have the basic things in life. It’s how being Christian makes you crazy; everything is spiritual, sinful, and deep. I don’t want to live that way. Religious people (read: Christians) are very condescending and look down on other people and religions. The treatment of women and homosexuals. There’s just a lot of things wrong with religion and I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.”
Thia, a self-proclaimed “wicked witch,” says, “I’ve seen firsthand what religion can do. Punishing women for being themselves. The idea of submission is to break our spirit and make us comply with bullshit. What do you mean a young girl—Saint Maria Goretti—should be forgiving after a man stabbed her 14 times because she didn’t want to fuck him? I don’t exactly practice religion because it’s all double standard. How on earth is there a rule on how to be a Proverbs 31 woman, but there isn’t a Proverbs 32 man? And the man in the Bible who wrote this was the same man that had 300 wives and 700 concubines?”
“Everything I like is sinful. I love ungodly things. The purity culture in the church is why I can’t be there any longer. Well, at least not totally. Because I still go back and forth. My mind is not fully there and my feminism doesn’t align with the church. My church isn’t pro-choice either. So, maybe in some years, good riddance totally.” Deja says.
Like Ruth*, whose menstrual cycle decided when to step into her church, and Deja, whose beliefs no longer align with the church’s teachings, Black women are redefining their relationship with the church, its beliefs, and their own faith.
WHAT BLACK WOMEN ARE DOING TO CHANGE THEIR NARRATIVES
Some women believe that leaving the church doesn’t totally mean discarding spirituality. Many are carving out new spaces for worship and community.
Seeking Inclusivity Inside Religion
It could mean remaining in religious spaces but challenging traditional structures. Tee, for instance, views the church as any other organisation alienating women. “I see the Church as any organisation that has risen to the top by unrecognised efforts of women claimed by men. And like any other group where feminists fight for their rights. I will also fight for my place in the church. There was a time that I raised my hand in the church when the priest started to talk against contraceptives. I know they hate to see me coming.”
Esohe, likewise, finds a sense of progress in Opus Dei, an institution in the Catholic church. The group provides the same philosophical and theological training for women—something typically only available to men seeking priesthood.
“It’s not perfect, but it’s a start in changing how women are viewed in leadership roles.”
Jewel has chosen another approach. She remains in church, but strictly on her own terms. “I believe in a supreme being that guides human affairs through Christianity, but I don’t believe in the biblical principles or play church politics. I only go to church to connect with God and then return home. As a feminist, I separate my identity from the church. I don’t talk to people there, I don’t attend extracurricular activities, and I selectively acknowledge prayers during services. I never say ‘amen’ to marriage and fertility prayers; instead, I pray the opposite. This approach has helped me speak my mind about religion and how it perpetuates harm towards women. To add to this, I usually do vex for the church, religion, and God once in a while on my WhatsApp status. I also don’t believe in church weddings. If I ever get married, I’m not doing a church wedding. A church cannot tell me what to wear and how to appear on my wedding day. Finally, I don’t date anyone from the church!”
Iretomiwa agrees with Jewel, as she has her own approach to engaging religion too, rejecting teachings that don’t align with her beliefs. “I ignore teachings that have to do with submission and whatnot. On Sunday, a lecture on navigating marriage was held, and as usual, the submission issue came in. I signified to speak and I told the church I didn’t agree with what the pastor had said. I’m religious; I believe in the existence of God. I only pick the teachings that my conscience is at peace with, same as my feminism. I don’t agree with every idea; I pick the one that works for me.”
Women on Embracing Alternative Spiritualities
For some women, spirituality has become a deeply personal journey. One is devoid of organised religion, while some others just choose to remain as they are.
Oluchi now identifies as agnostic. “I now believe in myself, My Chi. I’m my own god and I’ll get all that I want in this life.”
Thia, the wicked witch, who is also a mother of one, has chosen to raise her daughter without religious influence. “I don’t even raise Emma in a religious way. Sundays are for bunking off and watching Bluey.”
Aaliyaweh too has found peace in exploring African spirituality and astrology. “So far, it’s fun and free from hypocrisy and judgement. I practice whenever I am ready. I don’t feel guilt when I go to the universe; only when my heart is heavy.”
“I stopped praying or feeling guilty for every little thing that brought me pleasure. I doubled down on working hard because I knew no fairy-tale god was coming to save me nor perform miracles. Overall, it’s been pleasant. I am content; I also avoid getting into religious debates because I understand that everyone needs an anchor and if it’s religion, I can’t dispute that. Life has its ups and downs and I turn to literature and my inner strength to pull me through; it’s worked great for me thus.” – Isabella
Redefining Faith and Flight on their own Terms
One thing I’ve come to love about these Black women is that leaving the church means many and different things to them. These women, and many others, are championing their own ways. They are leaving old doctrines behind, challenging religious structures from within, and others by stepping outside them entirely. Whether through questioning and rejecting patriarchal doctrines or exploring alternative spiritualities, they are redefining what belief looks like.
Faith is no longer about obedience and endurance. It’s about agency, choice, and the freedom to believe on their own terms.
