In the last column, we talked about Oxóssi, the orixá of independence, ruler of the forests and abundant hunting. In this column, we will talk about her, the one who reigns over the waterfalls and teaches us so much about the power of self-love: Oxum. Many stories are told about this great sorceress, who always stands out whenever she appears.

One of her most well-known itãs tells of her power to make the world prosper. As recounted in Mitologia dos Orixás (Mythology of the Orixás), when the world was first created, all the orixás came to Earth and began making decisions, dividing responsibilities among themselves in assemblies where only men were allowed to participate.

Oxum did not accept this situation. Resentful of her exclusion, she took revenge on the male orixás and condemned all women to sterility, ensuring that any male attempt at fertility would fail. The waters dried up, and the land became barren.

Alarmed and uncertain of what to do, the men consulted Olodumare, for they were left without children to raise, without heirs to inherit their possessions, without new arms to create wealth and wage wars, and without descendants to carry on their memories.

Olodumare then learned that Oxum had been excluded from the meetings. He advised the orixás to invite her—and the other women—to participate, for without Oxum and her power over fertility, nothing could move forward. The orixás followed Olodumare’s wise counsel, and soon their initiatives flourished once again. Women returned to giving birth, and life on Earth prospered.

In Brazilian society, women are still not being invited to the decision-making tables, even on issues related to sexual and reproductive rights. Abortion remains criminalized, and even in cases of legal abortion, women and girls are having their rights violated—a council of men deciding everything.

Men fear that women might have the power to choose whether or not to give birth, for controlling sexuality is directly linked to producing more labor force, keeping the capitalist system running.

Let’s not be deceived. The decriminalization of abortion is not a matter of “morality” or “values,” as they want us to believe. It is a debate about economics, social security, and politics at its core. Yet, unlike Oxum’s itã, women remain trapped in a fate imposed by men.

Whether they belong to the left or the right, men shake hands behind closed doors, sealing agreements that continue to violate our freedom.

Women remain confined to a condition that, paraphrasing Simone de Beauvoir, prevents their transcendence. They are forced to give birth, even when they are rape victims. They die in clandestine abortion clinics. They suffer domestic and sexual violence.

And the country does not prosper. There can be no true progress when more than half the population, with few exceptions, remains excluded from decision-making and is treated as second-class citizens.

The rate of feminicide and sexual violence in Brazil is so high that it should be shaping policies at all levels. But that is not what we see.

In Brazil, Oxum continues to be ignored by the men in power. And the ghosts of regression are returning, bathing in the blood of the fallen. Men refuse to listen to Olodumare’s wisdom.

But we, as women, can learn from Oxum’s wisdom and reclaim the power we hold, despite what they try to make us believe.

The union of women has always been seen as dangerous through a patriarchal lens, for it holds the foundation of a fertile and transformative power.

Just like Oxum, we must look at ourselves in the mirror and nurture self-care. Oxum cleans her jewels before she cares for her children.

We must have the courage to look deep within ourselves, which means having the bravery to recognize what is ugly, like the reproduction of sexism among ourselves.

It takes courage to confront our own shadows and break the cycle of pain. A wounded woman wounds other women.

A woman who seeks healing, however, will look at other women with generosity and love.

We can support each other and learn to leave the table when our voices are not heard.

We must break free from the pact of agreeableness and docility that divides us between those who are welcomed and those who are deemed “non grata.”

A false rivalry is created, narrowing the path so that only a few women can pass through, preventing us from bathing in the abundance of the waterfalls.

Men have always feared the floodwaters.

Originally published in Portuguese in the July 26, 2024 column of Folha de S. Paulo.