Oh, sweetie pookie doo, let me tell you a little something about Nana Buluku, the Great Mother, the primordial womb from which everything came forth. You see, Nana Buluku isn’t just a goddess—no, baby, she is the Most High, the Supreme Being, the Grandmother of All Things, and the Creator of the very universe. Before the orishas, before the Iron Age, before we ever even learned to walk this earth, there was Nana, holding everything in her sacred, cosmic embrace.
Now, sugar, Nana Buluku is a force like no other. Sometimes her energy is feminine, sometimes masculine, but it always flows with a matriarchal grace. She mostly chooses to work with priestesses—wise women, healers, and keepers of sacred knowledge. That’s the kind of power we’re talking about here, baby. She carries an ibiri, a magical scepter made from palm fronds and shells. Let me tell you something—you don’t just pick up her ibiri if you’re a man, and even if you’re a woman, you better have her permission in your spirit before you even think about it. That ibiri is a symbol of her sacred authority, and it commands respect.
Let me tell you another thing, my sweet one: Nana Buluku is the goddess of the muddy waters. The kind of waters that are fertile, alive, and rich with possibilities. Her energy is tied to new cycles, fresh beginnings, and the birthing of every new moment. When you honor Nana, you honor that part of yourself that is always creating, always transforming, always giving birth to what’s next. She’s ancient, baby—so ancient that she doesn’t care for iron tools. No, Nana predates all that. If you’re working with her, you better put that iron knife down and pick up a bamboo or wooden blade. She keeps it simple, natural, and close to the earth.
Her symbols are sacred, too, and each one tells a story. The moon, mud, leaves, birds, moonstone,
black opal, and agate—these are her sacred tools, her spiritual language. You might see her shrines adorned with palm fronds or raffia-covered mounds. Her colors? Purple, dark indigo, black, white, green, and red. But don’t go bringing her no metallics, now. She doesn’t care for shiny things like gold or silver. Keep it earthy and pure.
Now, if you want to honor Nana Buluku, you’ve got to bring her the things she loves. Whiskey, rum, tobacco, coffee, shrimp, or tomatoes—these are just a few of the offerings she enjoys. She also loves garlic, juniper, marshmallows, and mint. Her feast day is July 26, but her energy is especially potent on Mondays and Saturdays. Those are her days, baby, so if you feel her calling, that’s when you set aside time to honor her.
But listen closely, sweetie pie, because I need you to understand this: Nana Buluku is the cosmic creator, the one who birthed the world, the sun, and the moon. Her twin children, Lisa (the sun) and Mawu (the moon), are the celestial forces that keep the universe in balance. And here’s the thing—after creating all we see, Nana stepped back. She withdrew from the daily affairs of the world and left it in the hands of her twins. That’s wisdom, my love—the kind that knows when to create, when to guide, and when to let go. It’s a reminder that life is about cycles, about making way for the new to flourish.
In her stories, Nana is often depicted as an old woman, wise and ancient, carrying the kind of knowledge that predates time itself. She reminds us to honor the wisdom of our elders, to value the cycles of life, and to tap into the sacred creativity within ourselves. Her energy is timeless, and her legacy stretches across generations.
So, my little sugah foots, when you invoke Nana Buluku, know that you are calling on the essence of creation itself. You’re embracing the part of you that is infinite, wise, and always evolving. And when you honor her, you honor the sacred lineage of West African spirituality—the deep, rich heritage that flows through our veins and connects us to the divine.
Take your time with Nana, baby. Call on her with reverence and gratitude, and let her teach you the ways of birthing, of healing, and of stepping into your sacred power. She is the Grandmother of All Things, and through her, we learn what it means to create, to let go, and to become. 💜