Ninety One Living Room “Jazz Lates”

It’s funny how religion was all around me when I was growing up in (supposedly religion-free) Cuba. My late grandmother was raised a Catholic and never lost the faith. My father was a (closeted) Freemason and my mother was not averse to dropping Christian-themed snippets of wisdom while bringing me up. All this punctuated by regular visits by a babalawo (a priest in the Yoruba religion) to my flat in Havana. Yet, I became an…