Creating New Worlds with Sensuous Knowledge: An Interview with Minna Salami

Photo of Minna Salami. Photo Credit: Alan Howard. Image courtesy of Minna Salami.

By Jaimee A. Swift

Minna Salami is breaking the rules—through the power of Black feminist thought.


Minna Salami is not interested in conventionality–in every sense of the word. Through her groundbreaking scholarship and social criticism, it is evidently clear that Salami is dedicated to breaking the rules of Western and European patriarchal systems, through the transformative power of Black feminist theory. By encouraging others to tap into what she defines as “sensuous knowledge”, Salami is mobilizing safe spaces so that individuals can do the internal work of divesting from the oppressive power dynamics we are so thoroughly enmeshed in, and instead, become more invested in creating a more charismatic and conscientious world.

A Nigerian, Finnish, and Swedish author, Salami approaches her research by way of Black feminist theory, African thought, and examining the politics of knowledge production. Concerned with how epistemic violence produces dualistic modes of thinking, living, and being, she wrote Sensuous Knowledge: A Black Feminist Approach for Everyone (Bloomsbury 2020), where she roots Black feminism as the theoretical framework that challenges such violence by utilizing “...Africa-centric, feminist-first and artistic traditions.” With Advaya, a global platform for alternative education and transformative experiences, Salami also developed a feminist online course titled, “Sensuous Knowledge: A Black Feminist Course for Everyone”, which is being offered from July 31st through August 28th.

She is also the author of The Power Book: What is it, Who Has it, and Why? The Politics of Provocation (Ivy Kids, 2019), a co-authored children’s book, and her forthcoming book, Can Feminism Be African? (Harper Collins 2024), interrogates essential themes of African feminism. With academic backgrounds in Political Science and Gender Studies, with specialization in feminist theory from SOAS, University of London, Salami is the Programme Chair of Black Feminism and the Polycrisis at The New Institute and is also the founder of the multi-award-winning blog, MsAfropolitan.

In this interview, Salami offers insights on how feminist politics aided her journey in rejecting patriarchal conventions and traditions; the everyday Black women who inspire her work; and how we can use the tools of sensuous knowledge to build Black feminist imaginations, possibilities, and worlds.

Please note: This interview was conducted in June 2020 and has been edited for clarity.

Jaimee Swift (JS): What was the moment or moments that catalyzed your feminist politics?

Minna Salami (MS): I find that I've had so many catalytic moments that have solidified me. The very first one is initially being born. I was a child of a feminist. When a girl is born, you're born into a patriarchal society. As a little girl, I was like most Black girls. I was so free; I had a strong sense of agency. I spoke up for myself. I felt comfortable in my own skin, basically. But then, of course, at a certain point in your childhood, around age seven or so, I started to change. I became more subjugated, quieter, and withdrawn.                                    

My second really powerful catalytic moment was as a teenager, when I was around 15, 16 years-old. Actually, it was reading Toni Morrison’s novel, Sula. This book had a kind of spiritual effect on me. I recognized myself somehow in her work, and I knew that I couldn't look back ever again after that moment. It was just such a sense of recognition of myself. And so, I started to shape how I lived my life. It was kind of a subtle transformation. But then, of course, I regressed again because I was young and encoding social behavior.                             

Then in my early 20s, I had what I would say is my most defining catalytic moment in my feminist practice thus far. It was actually more of a traditional awakening. I had a period of what is called automatic writing, which is when you sort of lose control over-you write without a sense of control. It's not your handwriting, it's not your words; at least it doesn't feel like that, anyway. It's also quite a difficult experience. I would try to use my left hand to stop my right hand from writing. I was always sort of spiritually inclined–I grew up in Lagos in an interfaith household, and I later converted to Catholicism.

At that point, I had a strong sense of faith in organized religion. This experience of automatic writing shook my entire foundation because it was so mystical. After that, I started to reject religion and the authority of religion. Then after, I started to reject other forms of indoctrination–colonial and patriarchal indoctrination.  That's a major catalytic moment. I think these kinds of moments in a woman's life are typical. It’s almost like a rollercoaster if you will. It's a very subtle transformation to happen, and for many women, you go through these types of transformations throughout your entire life. It’s a continuum.

Photo of Minna Salami. Photo Credit: Alan Howard. Image courtesy of Minna Salami.

My second really powerful catalytic moment was as a teenager, when I was around 15, 16 years-old. Actually, it was reading Toni Morrison’s novel, Sula. This book had a kind of spiritual effect on me. I recognized myself somehow in her work, and I knew that I couldn’t look back ever again after that moment. It was just such a sense of recognition of myself. And so, I started to shape how I lived my life.

JS: Your new book, Sensuous Knowledge: A Black Feminist Approach For Everyone, offers an introspective look at Black feminism through global approaches. What are your hopes for readers? What do you want them to take away from Sensuous Knowledge?

MS:  More than anything, I hope the book will make readers feel empowered. Empowerment has many layers, obviously. I want to empower someone to feel like there is a more expansive notion of Blackness, womanhood, and African-ness. These are labels, identity labels, so narrow by popular discourse. I hope that the book makes them feel like, “I can be more than what these narrow boxes allow me.” I guess I hope it'll make them curious, because I think curiosity is an ingredient in empowerment. Curiosity provides a sense of exploration, which is why so many things are named after white men because they have been “exploring” all over the world, and they don't have to be in the type of struggle like Black women, and all Black people and all women, have to be in. 

I hope it'll make them feel either politically or culturally empowered, but psycho-socially empowered. I hope it gives them that sense of curiosity, as I already mentioned, but also clarity and grounded-ness. There are so many things that consume us because there's so much information, contradiction, and confusion. I find that because we are caught up in the middle of these things, it's easy for our minds to become distracted in all kinds of directions. I think it's a real political significance to do work that brings Black women into the center because the people that are going to shape the future need to have that quality of centeredness. But I really hope that the book will encourage centeredness and reclamation.

JS:  I'm glad you said that. I was speaking to a friend about this not too long ago and mentioned to her, "How are we going to reground ourselves and reclaim ourselves, recover ourselves after this?" And there's so much information going around, so much confusion, so I completely agree with your statements. We do need centeredness and clarity. I also love how expansive your definition of Blackness is, womanhood is, African-ness is, because I think that, unfortunately, there is this hard-lined criteria many folks have in regard to what makes you Black or African, a woman, etc. I also think about how Blackness has stereotypically been associated with being Black American and that has stifled our understandings of the expansiveness of Blackness.

MS: Yes, this is one of the things I focus on in my chapter on Blackness. Black American activism has largely contributed to many of us becoming very politicized. This is valid. But I think Blackness, actually, we should look at it in a social and historical context. And that is because it's a title, and it's something that then informs our identity absent of whiteness. If whiteness didn't define or dictate Blackness, then what would it be?[JS1]  

JS: Mm-hmm. Yes, very interesting.

MS: That was the question that formed the chapter. I wanted to understand, "What is Blackness absent from the white gaze?" And what I found is that it is rooted in our own trajectory, our history, ethics, folktales, and our knowledge. The way that it's typically understood as a political label, that community means that whiteness is what shapes Blackness, because then we are in opposition to something. That means that then our identity is formed by opposition, which to me, is very unhealthy thinking. It's one thing to have an identity that is formed by a wealth of knowledge and history, and then be in opposition to something. But to have an identity that in itself is in opposition, it puts something deep in your core that creates, like you said, a question of, "How are we going to recalibrate and heal?"

If whiteness didn’t define or dictate Blackness, then what would it be? What is Blackness absent from the white gaze?

JS: This is truly something to think about. Who are we without being socially constructed by whiteness? Who are we? And I think that's a powerful question, because I think a lot of us still struggle with that. So much of what has been described about us, through the archives, have been of conquest, violence, colonialism, and anti-Blackness. The weight of uncovering our identities generally is heavy, but also outside of it can also be heavy.

MS: It's really complex. I think that's where we just have to be a little more open and introspective.  The politics are there, and they have to be there. But we also need to be more faithful; faithful in who we are that goes beyond what we have been told or taught. It is important to lean into different ways of approaching our lives and stories, which often have not been from Black women's gaze. It is a difficult process, however. I feel like that is so important for future generations. What I wish for in future is for little Black girls to never have to grapple with struggles. That's the ultimate goal. At some point, we have to be the ones who end that. 

JS: I love these insights. They are truly thought-provoking.

On your blog, you write:  "I offer Sensuous Knowledge as a humble attempt to plant a seed that may blossom into what I hope is an invigorating Africa-centered, woman-centered, and Black feminist synthesis in the harvest of universal ideas."

Why do you think it's imperative we center African feminisms in our praxis, and also in terms of transnational movement building?

MS: You know how we moved from the industrial age to the information age? Now, we're kind of entering what many call the knowledge age. And I think about Black feminist theory, and how it could be defined and moved in and beyond this age. The industrial age was very intentionally marked by us being subjugated and oppressed, with slavery and colonialism. In the information age, it's been more subtle, but it's still definitely there. And now that we're entering the knowledge age, I just cannot bear the thought of yet another fucking age where these issues of separation amongst African and U.S. Black feminists continue. I think that we have to put African feminism and US Black feminism as a part of all our universal ideas. We have to also be part of shaping this as well. That's one thing that is really a motivation.

Then for the feminist movement itself, the oppression of women is not going to go anywhere any time soon. That means that feminism is going to be around in order to address this oppression. And in order for feminism to do the work so that maybe our great-granddaughters can at least not have to deal with the oppression we are dealing with now, it needs to be a wide, coherent, compassionate, and conscientious feminist movement. It cannot have racism, classism, ageism and all of these things within the movement. We cannot be feminists and then have patriarchal norms and ways in our practice and theory. I always say this to white feminists especially: How do you think your patriarchs in the United States are maintaining the status quo, by oppressing and exploiting the Global South? If the United Kingdom, Germany, the U.S., or Hungary, or whatever European or Western country, didn't have the resources from slavery, colonialism, and exploitation then these patriarchies would collapse. So, if you are a Western feminist and you're not thinking about imperialism and this kind of transnational movement, then what are you even fighting against? It becomes really futile. So, transnational feminism is really important from that point of view. 

Then if you break it down even further for women of color and Black women, we are just so much stronger when we connect our feminisms. It's like with your site. How much stronger is your Black feminist practice that you're bringing in the Afro diaspora rather than just the ones in the US? It just becomes a very strong statement of, "Here are our voices, and we share so many approaches." It's really an exercise of strengthening our voices, and also of healing, because we're all doing this work. Whenever there's a gathering of Black feminists from around the world, at the end of it people always say, "I felt healed." It's about healing as well.

Photo of Minna Salami. Photo Credit: Alan Howard. Image courtesy of Minna Salami.

...If you are a Western feminist and you’re not thinking about imperialism and this kind of transnational movement, then what are you even fighting against? It becomes really futile.

JS: Who are Black women, African women who you admire and inspire you?

MS:  This question always floors me because there's just so many. Where do you even start? When I'm feeling misunderstood, or like the work I am doing is never going to create change, when I'm feeling like that, I turn to the Black women who inspire me are, who are the legends of Black feminism like bell hooks, Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Audre Lorde, and Margaret Busby. And then, of course, there are the activist icons, such as Funmilayo Ransome-Kutii, Charlotte Maxeke, Wangari Maathai, and Angela Davis.  

But it is not just the more well-known Black women who inspire me–I am inspired by everyday Black women contending with real strife. I watched a documentary a couple weeks ago about a Nigerian woman, who was poor, and she ended up saving as much money as she could so she could move to Russia. Sadly, she was trafficked to Russia and was forced into sex work.

Then in order to get back home to Nigeria, she had to pay almost $50,000 to the woman who ran the brothel. And then on top of that, she paid that much money to eventually go back home. She is now back in Nigeria, living in a rural area, where she started a foundation warning young people about human trafficking. I mean, with stories like that, who am I to ever sit and say, "Oh, I can't do this, it's so hard?’ That, to me, that kind of strong woman story really gives me the motivation to keep going.

I'm also really inspired by Black woman artists. I have this work of knowledge, and this comes from doing my experience of how it feels to me. I think Black female artists are especially able to capture…there's something unique about Black womanhood that artists capture that people like musical artists like Lauryn Hill and Tracy Chapman who visualize a lot. Mickalene Thomas inspires me so much. There’s just so many people who inspire me.

JS: What does a Black Woman Radical mean to you?

MS: A Black Woman Radical is a Black woman who is living her truth, living her ideology, living upright, and living where she is her own compass. When I see a woman that's just living, and supporting her own compass, that to me is amazing and inspiring. From a more practical standpoint, I am really inspired by women who break convention, especially Black and African women because many of us are still so enmeshed in traditional customs and practices. When women do that - break tradition - those kinds of women for me are so valuable, because they took the patriarchal tradition and tore it up and went, "No, I'm going to live my life differently, according to my own rules.”

For more information about Minna Salami, please visit: https://msafropolitan.com.

For more information about Salami’s Sensuous Knowledge course with Advaya, please visit: https://www.sensuous-knowledge.com.

Jaimee Swift