MY REFLECTION: THE ‘CURB VIEW OF GHANA AND THE YEAR OF RETURN.
Let this serve as a warning. This is going to be a very long post. These feelings and thoughts that will be expressed took a lot of time formulate. Sometimes finding the right words to express yourself is the hardest thing to do.
My trip to Ghana was super dope. The Year Of Return served a purpose in my life. Accomplished. Fulfilled. Motivated. These are some of the words that apply to my mood since returning to the States. Every aspect of this trip will be discussed. But, this post by far is one of the most difficult emotions that I have tried to articulate in my life.
During the visit, the group that I was with visited two slave dungeons that are located in Ghana. Although there is an old slave dungeon in Accra, we visited two that are located in Cape Coast, Ghana. (Cape Coast is about three hours away from Accra.)
The excitement before the announcement of the slave dungeon was apparent. Africa, Ghana, in particular, treated us very well. So well that I didn’t want to leave. (Just go ahead and change my name to Kwame King. Because there is no reason for me to come back to the USA! LOL)
The Gone 2 Ghana crew organized a photoshoot before the tour began. Which ended up being a smart move. My mind was prepared for the experience or so I thought.
The castle looked more like a fort. A fort strategically placed on top of a hill. Yea, strategic because in the days of horses and chariots it would be extremely difficult to ride a horse up a hill. There was a moat built to keep thieves and invaders out. But, it was built that way to keep “product” within the walls.
What started as trade turned into African men and women to be sold like a product. Animals were treated better than enslaved Africans. Arabs were the first to sell the Africans into slavery after they were castrated. Too bloodshed occurred because the Africans resisted, but it was too late. The loving and welcoming nature of Africans can was used against them.
The torture tactics are far too graphic to write. When I heard the atrocities forced on the Africans, my heart sank. Witnessing the dungeons and learning how five men were chained to each other is depressing. The men and women were forced to urinate and defecate on themselves! If one died while chained, the dead body remained chained to the others.
Greed was the reason why homes were destroyed and families were broken.
We walked into one of the cells where the Africans were kept, the tour guide closed the door so that we would have an idea of how it felt to be locked in one of those cages. As we stood in the slave dungeon an eerie silence consumed us. The darkness filled the room. The air became heavy and it became harder to inhale.
The design of the door of no return was diabolical. So, imagine three doors. And each door is smaller than the other. From no light in the dungeon to the stern bright lights of the Atlantic Ocean.
Low-key, their energy and pain were felt. (It sounds weird, I don’t care.) But, all I could do was pray. The water forming in my eye ducts was wiped and I became inspired.
These weren’t just crimes committed against Africans. These crimes were committed against humanity. The entire western hemisphere benefited from the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. The poem from the great Maya Angelou comes to mind “Still,I Rise.”
Being a descendant of a people who lived through adversity and atrocity, motivated me. Those atrocities did happen and did affect us, but it doesn’t make who we are. As the living, we can not allow this to happen again to anyone. Those words are inscribed on the walls of the slave dungeon.
I know that this post was long! There was so much more! But, I decided to hold back. If you want to know more, please email us firstname.lastname@example.org. Part 3 is coming and trust me, you won’t want to miss it!