In the kitchen of my Airbnb in Dar es Salaam, I stripped down to my underwear and wrapped a colorful kanga cloth around my hips. It was my third day of dance lessons with Zaishanga, but I wasn’t showing any improvement. Zaishanga—or Auntie Zai, as I called her—is a traditional sex educator, known locally as a somo or kungwi. She told me that learning to dance seductively would ensure “no man would ever want to leave you, unless you want him gone.” I never did master the dance, and I don’t really care if a man chooses to leave me, but my time with Auntie Zai was enlightening.
Dance is just one of the many seduction tips Zaishanga teaches at her “kitchen parties.” She also advises women on how to maintain a healthy marriage, the importance of self-care, and the need to uphold beauty and style. These gatherings, where experienced older women—aunties, big sisters, grandmothers—share advice with brides-to-be, are rooted in traditional rites of passage into womanhood that date back centuries.
But like many African traditions reshaped by colonization and modernism, kitchen parties have become increasingly tame—or “too western,” as Zaishanga puts it. She remembers her own journey into womanhood as a teenager, learning the art of touch through massage and the beauty ritual of removing pubic hair with hot ash. Now, she scoffs, women are literally being taught how to make tea.
It was this watering down of the original spirit of kitchen parties that prompted Zaishanga, 53, to start her own. She charges women 5,000 shillings (about £1.50) to attend. Zaishanga has worked as a somo for more than 30 years and claims to have saved many marriages. She has become increasingly well-known in Tanzania and has been a guest on radio and TV shows offering tips about sex and sexuality. Her dream is to build a global profile like Oprah Winfrey’s, teaching millions of women about sex.
Talking openly and honestly about bodies, sex, and sexuality feels increasingly important as politics leans more toward the right. In my first book, The Sex Lives of African Women, I documented the desires and sexuality of African and Afro-descendant women through more than 30 personal stories. Women of all ages and across the spectrum of gender identities and sexualities shared their intimate experiences, but it was the accounts from older women and queer people that made the biggest impression on me. Their lives seemed to epitomize sexual freedom—which I define as feeling at home in your body, being secure in your sexuality, and having the space to explore and express your desire with other consenting adults.
I thought long and hard about these women and how others could discover sexual freedom on their own terms. Then I had a eureka moment: I would travel throughout Africa speaking to women to find out how ancient wisdom, passed down through generations via rites and rituals, can help us find joy and freedom in sexual practice today. What I discovered on that odyssey is chronicled in my new book: Seeking Sexual Freedom: African Rites, Rituals and Sankofa in the Bedroom.
Sankofa is an Akan philosophy that literally translates as “go back and take it.” In adinkra, a visual language, it is represented as a long-necked bird looking backward or two curved lines that stylistically form a heart. By applying sankofa to pre-colonial rites and rituals, we can reclaim them and infuse them with feminist principles and energy. I call this “feminist sankofa.”
One of my dreams is tIn Ghana, where I live, I witnessed dipo, a rite of passage for young Krobo women. Girls paraded through the main street of Krobo Odumase, a mid-sized town in the Eastern Region, with shaved heads and their bare chests heavily adorned with stacks of beads. More rows of beads held their subue—an undergarment—in place. I later learned that wearing a subue is believed to enhance sexual pleasure by keeping the genitals warm.
The bead colors worn during the ceremony carried specific meanings: white for purity, yellow for maturity, and blue for value. Under the midday sun, the girls’ skin gleamed with shea butter as they walked gracefully, balancing pots of water on their heads and moving with dainty steps through the crowds of onlookers. In the past, families would often choose wives from among those who had successfully completed the ritual.
Some might view dipo as regressive. One young Ghanaian woman shared that although she was initially reluctant to participate—uncomfortable with exposing her breasts in public—she felt proud by the end. Adorned with beads, carried on the shoulders of her male relatives, and celebrated as a full Krobo woman, she reflected on what she gained: “learning how to get along with other people.” During her initiation weekend, she lived communally with other girls and was taught various household tasks.
As the Nigerian artist, philosopher, and academic Nkiru Nzegwu wrote in her essay Osunality: or the African Erotic, “Notwithstanding the variations in detail and duration of seclusion, the schools created spaces for women to transmit Indigenous ideas on sexuality and pleasure, and to fashion a group identity and a unifying female-identified consciousness.” Dipo, like many African rites of passage, marks a formal entry into womanhood and fosters connection—a sense of belonging central to many coming-of-age practices.
Many of these traditional “schools” no longer exist as they once did, which isn’t entirely negative, as they often reinforced patriarchal norms and taught heteronormative sex focused on pleasing men. Yet they also provided dedicated space and time to learn about bodies and pleasure. Open, honest conversations about bodies, sex, and sexuality feel increasingly urgent as politics shifts to the right, women’s and LGBTQ+ rights are rolled back, and anti-rights groups campaign against comprehensive sex education.
One of my dreams is to create a feminist puberty ritual where young girls—like my daughter—can learn from other women about what to expect as teenagers. In this vision, mentors would teach girls about sex by focusing on our bodies’ incredible capacity for pleasure—for our own wellbeing, not as a strategy to attract or keep men.
Teaching girls openly about sex also means acknowledging that gender and sexual identities exist on a spectrum. Pleasure is our birthright. We are all entitled to feel joy in our bodies and to access and delight in our erotic power.
According to Amnesty International, 31 countries…Out of 54 African countries, many have banned consensual same-sex relationships. Yet I met many young people who are resisting homophobia and reclaiming traditional rites, rituals, and spiritualities to affirm their gender and sexual identities. Chido, who describes themselves as “a Black queer being with heritage partly from Zimbabwe’s Honde Valley in the Eastern Highlands,” sees a clear link between ancestral practices and their life today as a gender non-conforming person. “People call these things unAfrican, but I can trace this back 200 years in my family. It’s not something foreign I’m latching onto—I’m holding on to my lineage.”
Adeola, a practitioner of Isese, an African traditional religion, explained that the pantheon of African gods and goddesses manifests in different genders, forms, and shapes. If our deities can be multidimensional shape-shifters, why should we be any less?
Pleasure is our birthright. We all deserve to feel joy in our bodies and to access and delight in our erotic power—regardless of ability, gender, or sexuality. My journey across the continent confirmed that we can draw inspiration from our African ancestors, making space and time to treasure sexuality and live more pleasurable lives today.
Seeking Sexual Freedom: African Rites, Rituals and Sankofa in the Bedroom, by Nana Darkoa Sekyiamah, is published in the UK by Dialogue Books on 12 March and in the US by Atria Books on 5 March.
Frequently Asked Questions
Frequently Asked Questions My Journey to Sexual Freedom Ancient African Wisdom Modern Pleasure
Beginner Foundational Questions
1 What exactly is ancient African wisdom in the context of sexuality
It refers to holistic lifeaffirming philosophies and practices from various African cultures that viewed sexuality as a sacred natural and powerful force for connection healing and spiritual energy not just for procreation
2 How can wisdom from the past be relevant to my modern sex life
These teachings address timeless human needs deeper connection overcoming shame integrating mind and body and viewing pleasure as a vital part of wellbeingissues that are often missing in todays fastpaced performancefocused culture
3 Isnt this just about specific sexual techniques
No its primarily about a fundamental mindset shift While certain practices may be discussed the core focus is on the philosophy behind pleasuremoving from a goaloriented approach to one of presence reverence and holistic enjoyment
4 Im not of African descent Is this for me
Absolutely This wisdom is offered as a cultural perspective and a set of humancentered principles Anyone seeking a more integrated joyful and shamefree relationship with their sexuality can learn from these holistic frameworks
Benefits Purpose
5 What are the main benefits of exploring this perspective
Potential benefits include reduced sexual shame and anxiety enhanced mindbody connection deeper intimacy with partners viewing pleasure as a form of selfcare and spiritual practice and moving beyond performance pressure
6 Can this help with sexual dysfunction or low desire
It can be a powerful complementary approach By addressing root causes like stress disconnection and cultural shame it can help remove barriers to arousal and satisfaction creating a more fertile ground for desire to flourish
7 How does this differ from mainstream sex therapy or education
While sex therapy is crucial for clinical issues this wisdom adds a cultural spiritual and philosophical layer It emphasizes sexuality as part of your entire life energy not an isolated act
Common Problems Challenges
8 I feel shame or awkwardness about my body or desires Can this help
Yes a central theme is decolonizing pleasureunlearning inherited shame and negative messages The wisdom encourages viewing your body and its capacity
