My Rage Was Real: I Didn’t Find Peace: I Found Oya, the Storm Goddess
When I began leaning into writing again after my son died, I was considering a new story.
I already knew one thing about it: I loved the idea of a woman "chosen by a goddess." So I did what I always do when a story starts tugging at me. I researched. I explored different mythologies, followed interesting threads, and looked for the goddess who might belong in this new world.
But my grief wouldn't stop talking.
It wasn't quiet or peaceful. It carried feminine rage: the kind born from grief, powerlessness, and the knowledge that something precious had been taken and could never be made right. No matter what story I thought I was trying to create, that grief kept finding its way onto the page.
And then my research led me to Oya
The Yoruba Orisha of storms, winds, transformation, death, and the crossroads.
Something about her stopped me.
Here was a fierce feminine power connected to violent change and transformation—to the threshold between life and death, to the moment when what existed before can no longer remain.
I hadn't set out looking for a goddess who could explain my grief but I found one who gave shape to the loss and transformation I was already carrying.
Standing at the Cemetery Gates
The deeper I went into my research, the more Oya resonated.
In Yoruba cosmology, she is an Orisha associated with storms, winds, transformation, death, and the crossroads. She is also connected to the cemetery gates (the threshold between the living and the dead).
That stopped me, too.
I was living in that strange space where the world expected life to continue even though mine had been irrevocably divided into a before and an after.
Oya didn't represent a return to what had been. She represented the transformation.
And I needed that.
I was drawn to the awe of a goddess who doesn't ask for permission and doesn't simply patch over what is broken. Her energy is disruptive. She clears away what can no longer remain and forces change.
The more I learned about her, the more I could see why she belonged in the series I was beginning to build.
But I could also see why I had found her when I did.
The Copper and Deep Red of Righteous Disruption
Long before the modern world had a name for a Black woman superhero, there was Oya.
I became fascinated by the imagery surrounding her from the storms and whirling winds, the movement of the water buffalo, the marketplace, the masks and mysteries, and those rich colors of copper, deep red, wine, burgundy, and purple.
To me, Oya came to embody "righteous disruption and female rage."
She carried an energy I understood: the refusal to quietly accept what cannot be accepted. That mattered to me as a Black woman. We know something about being expected to endure. To hold everything together. To keep moving even when the world has given us every reason to fall apart.
But Oya offered me a different image of strength.
Crafting the Lore Book I Needed to Survive
As I continued researching, another piece became important to me.
After receiving my DNA results connecting me to Ghana, I felt a deep recognition of home. I wanted to explore West African mythology and goddesses whose stories felt culturally connected to something I was discovering about myself.
But when I looked at the fantasy and mythology books surrounding me, I kept encountering the same familiar Greek and Roman pantheons.
I wanted something else.
Eventually, that research, my grief, my fascination with Oya, and the storyworld taking shape in my imagination began to converge.
The Oya Warrior Goddess Lore Book grew from that convergence.
It's part mythology research, part personal reflection, part worldbuilding, and part serialized thriller.
And in my Sentinel universe, Oya isn't simply a distant mythological reference. She becomes part of the supernatural foundation of the world, and the force that chooses Tia Jackson.
A Mirror for Transformation
My readers have described my version of Oya as dangerous, compassionate, and relentless.
“You do not fix. You do not heal. You do not hold. You break. You change. You ride the storm.”
The Crossroads Speaks to Oya
Colin noticed the importance of the crossroads in the narrative, while A.D. Koboah described the lore book as a fantastic addition to the series.
Those responses helped me recognize something about what I'd created. The lore book had become more than background information about a goddess or companion material for a fictional universe.
For me, it became a mirror for transformation.
There are experiences you don't simply “get over.” There are losses that divide your life permanently into before and after.
Sometimes surviving isn't about returning to the woman you were before the storm.
Sometimes you become someone else.
That's what Oya came to represent for me.
And it's one of the reasons she became so important to the world of The Sentinel.
Frequently Asked Questions About Oya
What is Oya the goddess of?
Oya is the Yoruba Orisha of storms, lightning, wind, death, transformation, and the crossroads between worlds. She rules the spaces of sudden change and transition.
What are Oya’s symbols?
Her presence is recognized through storm clouds, striking lightning, and whirling spirals. She is visually represented by the gleam of copper and rich tones of deep red, wine, and purple, while moving with the unstoppable energy of horses and the water buffalo.
What does Oya represent spiritually?
She represents profound transformation, liberation, righteous disruption, feminine power, and deep ancestral connection. She is the force that clears away the old to make room for the new.
Is Oya connected to death?
Yes. She governs the threshold between life and death, guarding the cemetery gates and closely guiding souls through their ancestral transition.
How is Oya portrayed in your stories?
In my Sentinel universe, she is a storm-born force of justice who challenges systems of oppression, protects the forgotten, and actively reshapes destiny.
Where to Go Next
If you've been looking for mythology that reflects powerful Black women back at you (or stories in which transformation doesn't have to be quiet, gentle, or pretty) Oya may have something to say to you, too.
Ride the Storm With Me
