Five Fierce Humanists: Unapologetically Black Women Beyond Belief - The Humanist

By Ruth Kuta

In “Five Fierce Humanists: Unapologetically Black Women Beyond Belief”, C. Gorham, S. Hutchinson, L. Ross, B. Crutchfield, and M. Thomas present profiles of five Black women humanists whose work or lived experience exemplifies how secular or non-belief perspectives can be deeply enmeshed with social justice, feminism, and intersectional activism. Three central themes emerge from the article. First, intersectionality is fundamental: the women show how race, gender, religion (or non-religion), sexuality, and class all combine to shape experiences of oppression and identity, and thus humanist activism must attend to all these axes rather than treating nonbelief as a standalone issue. For instance, Sikivu Hutchinson’s work connects sexual violence, “toxic masculinity,” and racial inequality, not only criticizing religious dogma but also addressing how Black girls and youth are harmed by structural systems. Second, the compatibility (and tension) between feminism and secular humanism is a major point: the article argues not only that feminism is compatible with humanism, but that for many Black women, humanism is made meaningful through feminist concern. The profiles show that rejecting religious authority or doctrine often goes hand in hand with seeking gender justice, bodily autonomy, and resisting patriarchal control. Third, the importance of community, visibility, and mutual support among marginalized nonbelievers arises again and again: these women speak of building communities (for Black nonbelievers, atheists, and humanists), creating safe spaces, supporting one another, and amplifying voices of persons who leave or critique religion, often at social cost. Mandisa Thomas’s work with Black Nonbelievers illustrates this; the Ebony Exodus Project of Candace R. M. Gorham does similar work.

Reading the article, I feel both inspired and challenged. I admire the courage of these women: to reject prevailing religious norms, to speak out on sensitive issues (gender, sexuality, criticism of religious institutions), to endure likely backlash, and yet to persist in forging meaningful social change. Their stories make clear that nonbelief is not passive, not merely “absence of faith,” but often is an active stance toward justice, equality, integrity, and dignity. On the other hand, I also feel awareness of how difficult, risky, and socially costly such a stance must be in many places, especially in societies where religion is deeply interwoven with social norms, family expectations, law, and identity.

In the context of Northern Nigeria, the article’s ideas have considerable relevance, though their application is complex. Northern Nigeria is largely religious (especially Muslim), and religious identity is central to social life. Criticism of religious doctrine, or open nonbelief, can lead to ostracism, sometimes danger; many people’s moral authority and legitimacy derive from religion, and religious institutions often provide social services or mediation. However, many of the intersections discussed gender injustice, sexual violence, class or economic disparities, and discrimination are present. The idea of a humanist perspective that includes gender equity, that supports those marginalized by religion, and that builds community among those who feel alienated by religious dogma, is therefore potentially very powerful. It could help empower women who suffer under patriarchal norms justified by religious interpretation; help victims of discrimination based on religious misunderstanding; and foster rational and moral critique of harmful traditions.

Do I agree with the article’s core positions? Largely, yes. I believe intersectionality is essential for understanding oppression: one cannot address only one dimension (say, religion) without considering others like gender, race, and class. Also, I think feminism and secular humanism can be mutually reinforcing, especially when religion is used to uphold patriarchal or oppressive norms. And the emphasis on community and visibility is necessary; change rarely happens in isolation.

However, I also think there must be sensitivity in how these ideas are introduced in Northern Nigeria. Because religious belief is deeply embedded, advocating for atheism or nonbelief might be interpreted as hostile, irreverent, or un-Islamic, which could provoke defensiveness or backlash. So while I support the article’s advocacy for visibility and outspoken critique, I believe that in contexts like Northern Nigeria, some strategies might need adaptation: more dialogue, gradual critical reflection, engagement with religious reformers, use of shared moral values (compassion, justice, honesty) that overlap religious and nonreligious moralities. Also, while building communities of nonbelievers is important, there will often be social isolation; so finding ways to ensure safety, respect, and mental/emotional support is vital.

In conclusion, “Five Fierce Humanists” is a powerful and eloquent exposition of what humanism (broadly conceived) can be for and by those who are doubly marginalized by virtue of race, gender, religion or non-religion, and sexuality. The article’s insistence that nonbelief is not simply about rejecting supernatural claims but is deeply tied to social justice, feminism, intersectional activism, and community resonates strongly. In Northern Nigeria, these ideas offer valuable possibilities for challenging harmful norms, for giving voice to those marginalized, and for promoting a morality rooted in human dignity rather than fear or dogma. But successful adaptation demands cultural sensitivity, understanding existing religious moral frameworks, and proceeding with respect and patience.