Papa Neezer: The mystery behind a Trinidad legend

Dr Henry spent substantive time with the legendary icon in order to complete this memoir. Her doctoral dissertation also focussed on what was then called the “Shango Cult.” Point of fact is that the reader feels the earnesty of the good doctor. Her historical and sociological presentation of the Orisha movement at the inception of her discourse is done without labouring the reader with academia, making for a quite fluid indulgence. In the end, Dr Henry raises key issues that reverberate today among the faithful. She explores the rise of the “innovators” within the movement—those bent on effacing all things “Christian” and replacing them with Yoruba traditions. She asks provocatively: “What would Pa Neezer say?” It is a piercing enquiry with far reaching implications and testament to the reverence with which Pa Neezer was held.

She can only surmise but offers a credible response that would intrigue any student of cultural hybridisation. In her conclusion, Dr Henry traces Pa Neezer’s involvement in spiritualism, raising questions on the validity of the commonly held “disguise theory” and the “syncretism concept” along the way. It is in the heart of “Power” that Dr Henry ably describes the Orisha feast. Her details are crisp and imaginative. All centres on Pa Neezer’s monumental presence at feasts.

He is described as an unassuming man physically but is transformed to a larger than life figure—majestically authoritative. This transfiguration is well penned by Dr Henry who is understandably awe-stricken, her writing edging toward beatification, if not canonisation. As the author threads along the dangerous path of God-men and cults of personality, she always recovers, presenting case after case of miraculous cures by Pa with caveats: “Again, I was unable to determine if the cure was permanent.”
Dr Henry re-lives the thrill of seeing Pa Neezer’s possession as Ogun and Ajaja, but saves her most exhilarating prosaic display for his channeling of Aba Lofa. She writes: “On this particular night, Pa was not in the palais. He sat in total silence and was completely still. It was if his spirit or his soul were already in another world. Several hours passed. Suddenly, his eyes closed and his head began to shake faster and faster almost as though it would snap out of its neck.” 

What follows is utterly spell binding. An almost incredulous account of Pa Neezer’s emergence as Aba Lofa himself. “All eyes were drawn to him as he stood there dressed all in white completely immobile. On his head and perfectly balanced was a freshly killed cow’s head.” She goes on to describe a scene of frenetic dancing in blood soaked white clothes and billowing cloak. “His entire body shook and moved while the cow’s head, its own dead eyes still open glared at the crowed.” But Dr Henry’s “Pa” was neither sorcerer or avatar. Unfortunately, humankind has always readied itself for salvation at the feet of men, a sure path to disillusionment. In reality, Pa Neezer looked inward for understanding where spiritual dividends are manifold. Pa was no more than a mere mortal who raised his spiritual rank through sheer work—patience, fasting, prayer, contemplation, charitable deeds and avoidance of tenebrous dabbling.
He was an unapologetic rejector of Kabbalistic work we learn.

He didn’t need to renounce any spiritual expression at the expense of another. Pa Neezer reconciled his spiritual duality—Roman Catholicism and the Orisha traditions—finding universality in the God-head.
This is the essence, the very hallmark of wisdom. Indeed, spiritual ascendence may have little to do with cultural reclamation, a truth that Dr Henry’s “innovators,” will eventually learn. For sure, Pa Neezer was the paragon of wisdom—a unique and barely achievable state. And for sure, the Power comes when you have surrendered with utmost humility. This is the enduring lesson of Dr Henry’s work.

Dr Glenville Ashby
New York correspondent
The Guardian Media Group
glenvilleashby@gmail.com