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African Spirituality is a traditional African religion (or traditional beliefs and practices of African people) as a set of highly diverse beliefs that includes various ethnic religions.  Generally, these traditions are oral rather than scriptural include belief in an amount of higher and lower gods, sometimes including a supreme creator, belief in spirits, veneration of the dead, use of magic and traditional African medicine.  A lot of Black women and men are leaving Christianity for African Spirituality because it is a form of resistance to the “White Man’s Religion”.   
     I’ve read articles and heard testimonies of Black women who said African Spirituality gives them a strong sense of identity, inspiration, liberation, autonomy, and spiritual grounding that allows them to think differently.  They expressed feeling connected and empowered.  They feel angels and the ancestors are protecting them.  According to these Black women, they did not feel loved, valued, protected,  validated, empowered or accepted by the Christian church.
     What I am seeing is Black women and men are leaving Christianity for the same reason Eve ate from the tree of knowledge….the voice of another supersedes the voice of God.  Their desires contradict Jesus’ Lordship.  Not His will, but my will be done.  They are disappointed, disgusted, discouraged, distracted and deceived.  Other religions promote a more individualistic approach with little to no accountability.  Those who leave Christianity are looking for something that will make them feel more powerful and in control.  The enemy doesn’t have any new tricks.   He repackages and presents sin in a way that is new and exciting.       
   African Spirituality versus Jesus is not a competition.  Jesus is the real “MVP”.  He is the greatest of all time.  He is victorious and so am I.   I am loved (John 3:16).  I am valued (Deuteronomy 32:10).  I am protected (Psalm 91).  I am validated (1 Peter 2:9-10).   I am empowered (Ephesians 2:10).  I am accepted (Romans 8:14-15).  
As we celebrate Holy Week, I am reminded of a song Momma used to sing, “I know it was the blood for me.  One day when I was lost, He died upon the cross and I know it was the blood for me”.