Pouring Wisdom: Honoring Ancestors with African Libations

Lamar Hampton

Hey everybody, welcome back to Harmony Hub—brought to you by Memorial Connect. I’m your host, Lamar Hampton, and today, we’re traveling back to the roots. Specifically, the ancient tradition of African libations, a ceremony that’s been flowing, literally and spiritually, for generations across West Africa—think Yoruba, Igbo, Ewe, and so many other peoples. Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I’ll be honest—libation wasn’t something my family talked about when I was growing up. Maybe you’re like me; maybe you just heard about it for the first time at a wedding or a funeral and thought, “Wait, what are we pouring out, and for who?” Well, this tradition actually goes way, way back, and its heart is pretty simple. It’s about honoring our ancestors—and letting their presence and wisdom enter our space.

Lamar Hampton

Whether it’s a cup of water, a splash of wine, or sometimes something a little stronger, libation starts with pouring liquid—either onto the earth, sometimes into a plant, or in all four directions. But what matters even more than what you pour is the intention behind it: prayers spoken, the names said out loud, and those moments of real, quiet acknowledgment. There’s something about hearing someone call out, “We honor Aunt Hellen, we honor Grandpa George,” that just—it hits differently. And here's the part people often miss: this isn’t just for funerals. Birthdays, weddings, graduations, any milestone you can imagine—libations open the celebration in a way that says, “We know where we come from, and we want our people in the room, even if we can’t see them.”

Lamar Hampton

I gotta share a personal moment that’s always stayed with me. First time I ever truly experienced a libation was at my father’s funeral. I was grieving, everyone was quiet, and then the celebrant started calling out our ancestors’ names—names I’d only ever heard in old family stories. As she poured water slowly into the earth and spoke, it was like I could feel my whole lineage gathering around us. The room got heavy—no, not heavy, more like… full, with this love and connection. People cried, people smiled. I think that was the first time I understood why we do this ritual—not just as tradition, but as a real act of healing and remembrance. That moment, honestly, was transformative.

Lamar Hampton

Now, if we dig a bit deeper—what is it that gives libation its spiritual punch? Well, it’s the bridge this ritual builds between the living and those who’ve transitioned. Instead of saying goodbye, you’re saying, “Stay with us, guide us, celebrate with us.” Pouring in the four directions, calling each ancestor by name, joining together in prayer or silence—those are all parts of keeping that relationship alive. It’s not a one-way street. We’re not just remembering them; we’re inviting their wisdom right into whatever moment we’re marking.

Lamar Hampton

I got to sit down with Iya Ifanike Omowale—a powerful celebrant who’s helped so many families through these rituals. As she explained it, it doesn’t matter if you come from a particular faith, or any faith at all. Libation meets every family where they are. You get to honor your ancestors, whether you know exactly which village they came from or, like so many in our community, you’re still searching for those roots. The important thing is, everyone gets a seat at the table, and every voice gets to be heard—even voices from the past.

Lamar Hampton

And you know, sometimes I think about—how do our other ways of memorializing people compare? We put together slideshows, we write eulogies, we sing songs—goodness knows we’ve covered a lot of those on this podcast—but sometimes, those rituals can feel a little… I don’t know, distant? Or like you’re supposed to sit quietly and watch, rather than join in. What I love about libation is that it’s unapologetically communal. You want to pour, you want to say something, you want to stand together and simply reflect—it’s all welcome. That’s a lesson I think a lot of traditions could borrow: give people a way to show up for each other and honor the ties that bind us, both in this world and the next.

Lamar Hampton

So maybe you’re listening today, thinking—“This sounds powerful, but how would it actually work if I wanted to include it in a memorial for my loved one?” Good question. A professional celebrant—like Iya Ifanike Omowale or others you’ll find through Memorial Connect—will usually start with a consult. They’ll want to know about the person you’re honoring, which ancestors mean the most, how your family feels about being involved. The point is to make the ritual traditional, but also deeply personal—blending ancient names with contemporary stories.

Lamar Hampton

If you’re considering adding a libation ceremony, here are a few tips. First, find a celebrant who really knows the tradition—not just someone reading off a Google doc, you know? They should respect your culture and comfort level. Second, remember you can adapt the ritual. Maybe you want every family member to pour a little, maybe just the eldest does it, or you add music—well, you know I’m always going to advocate for that! What matters is participation. When people take part—when they say a name or pour that water—it’s not just symbolic. There’s something deeply healing about the physical act and hearing those names spoken aloud.

Lamar Hampton

I’ll never forget this one Memorial Connect event we did not too long ago. The family had never done a libation before—they weren’t sure what to expect, or honestly, if it would resonate. But as each cousin, uncle, and even the little ones came up to pour and call out a name or memory, I watched them shift together from grief into something that almost felt like peace. A bit of unity, a bit of joy snuck in, too. By the end, folks were hugging, realizing they’d been part of something old but brand new for them. Makes you realize—sometimes the old ways have exactly what our modern hearts need. Well, that's it for today. I hope you join us next time on Harmony Hub presented by Memorial Connect.