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Writer's pictureRev. Princeton Abaraoha

Discovering my identity: I am because we are.

Personal identity is formed by elements such as culture, gender, society and emotions, which define us as individuals and determine our relationship with the world. African culture teaches us that personal identity is built by discovering ourselves in a “we”.



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Identity Matters – An African Reflection by Princeton Abaraoha.


"Who am I?" This question beats like a drum in the hearts of many, not just among the youth in search of self but for all of us navigating the fast-changing tides of the world. Knowing who we are is essential—it grounds us like the deep roots of the Iroko tree in an era where differences are celebrated but can also confuse us. There are four critical identities to reflect on as we define ourselves: Christian, personal, racial, and ethnic.



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Christian Identity


As Africans, we know the centrality of our faith, and as Christians, our first and most important identity is that of being God's beloved. We are cherished children of a loving God, and this truth is foundational. Though the world may tempt us to stray, we must always hold fast to this knowledge—we were created out of love, to live in love, and to share love.




Our elders teach us that this journey of understanding our beloved identity may span a lifetime, much like the wisdom of the ancestors, which takes years to comprehend fully. Yet, we must strive to live it. Knowing we are held in God's eternal love helps us navigate life, clarifying our decisions and reminding us who we are at our core.




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Personal Identity


Our personal identity is the unique melody we bring to life, the individual rhythm that sets us apart from others. It is not merely about our roles or titles; it is the essence of who we are and what we want others to understand about us. I often proudly introduce myself as an "Evangelical, Progressive, Anglican, Presbyterian African, Nigerian pastor, Evangelist, Coach, Facilitator, Preacher." These words not only define what I do—they tell the story of my journey, calling, and the influences that have shaped me.



They reveal my spiritual, ethnic, and professional identity, much like the praise names our forebears used to capture a person's spirit in a few powerful words.



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Racial Identity


Some may wonder why I do not include my racial identity in that introduction. The truth is that racial identity is not who we are—it is how the world often defines us. Race is a political label, one that is tied to skin color and does not capture the richness of our heritage. To call me "African" is too broad; it does not speak to the complexity of my cultural traditions or the specific path my people have walked.




I am not just African—I am Igbo, with roots digging deep into Ngwa land's soils. Each African group carries its food, stories, dances, and customs, from the Ivorian to the Tanzanian, from the Algerian to the Zambian. The term "African" may be used for convenience, but it strips away the beauty of our cultures and histories, flattening the diversity that makes Africa genuinely magnificent.



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Ethnic Identity


When I reflect on ethnic identity, I think of the stories passed down from generation to generation, the language that carries our history, and the traditions that mark our celebrations and mourning. Yet here in the diaspora, these unique ethnic identities often get lost. In census boxes and societal classifications, we are lumped together under broad terms like "Black" or "African American."


For many of us who have migrated from the African continent, these labels are limiting—they erase the specific experiences that make us who we are. For second-generation African immigrants, the struggle can be even greater. Some claim the term "Nigerian American" or "Ghanaian American" but feel disconnected from the rich ethnic heritage that has shaped their families. Others prefer to be known simply as "Black," wanting to honor the struggles of African Americans whose history of enslavement and resistance is deeply tied to this land.




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Solidarity in Diversity


So, is racial identity important? Yes, but not for the reasons the world may think. While racial labels do not capture the fullness of who we are, they carry the weight of shared struggles. In America, racial identity is political—it speaks to the history of injustice, marginalization, and the fight for equality.





By embracing our racial identity, we stand in solidarity with others who have walked similar paths of resistance. As Africans, we join hands with African Americans in the ongoing fight against racism and discrimination while also acknowledging our different journeys. As Christians, we are called to stand with all oppressed and unite with those whose struggles mirror our own. 

In this age of growing diversity, we must learn to hold our unique identity alongside those of others. We celebrate our individuality—our personal and ethnic stories—and at the same time, we recognize our shared humanity. The church, as the body of Christ, must lead the way. I hope the church will teach us to see ourselves as God's beloved, honor the many layers of who we are, and stand with others in solidarity without losing the beautiful diversity that makes us who we are. 



In Africa, we say, "I am because we are." Let us carry that spirit into the world, defining ourselves, standing together, and celebrating the richness of every identity.



Princeton







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