#slavecastles

Today we toured two slave castles: the slave castle at El Mina  and at Cape Coast. The slave castles are where slaves were held before being traded in the trans-Atlantic slave trade. They were held for three months or longer in dungeons separated by gender. A tunnel connected the dungeons to what was called “the door of no return,” where the slaves exited the castle and were put on the ship. 

A memorial inside the dungeon at El Mina

An interior view from the Cape Coast slave castle

These tours were very heavy on the heart. I couldn’t help but feel cheated by the American education system for never having thoroughly learned about this part of history, especially when it is so intimately tied to American history. I had no idea that slaves were held for months prior to stepping on a boat in the trans-Atlantic slave trade. It deeply saddens me that this part of history is so marginalized. I believe that for many of us, the first time we truly learned the extent about the trans-Atlantic slave trade was on this trip. There is no awareness about this slice of history despite the fact that it spanned hundreds of years and so severely impacted and displaced millions of innocent people. It was surreal to see scratch marks on dungeon walls and to approach the Door of No Return. It was deplorable to learn about the dehumanizing conditions that the slaves were subjected to in captivity. Then, in both castles, the colonizing country had a church literally above the dungeons. They went to church feet above the ground from where the slaves were held in captivity. It blows my mind that it took so long to question the morality of this practice.

        So easy is it to become caught up in the daily paper chase. Easily do we lose ourselves, our responsibilities and duties when we place the meaning of who we are as an individual in material possessions. What happens when the battery dies? Or water spills on the touch screen making it unusable? The value of what we spent months saving up for instantly depletes, faster than a new car after driving off the lot.

        And who/what is to blame for our insatiable need for materials? Who knows but since its advent arguably millions of lives have been destroyed. We no longer are content with our current existence, instead we are stuck in a constant state of fulfilling a certain image. And not one that will better the world, but one that we read about in a magazine. In six months time we will have to upgrade ourselves.

         I'm not against any one, I'm just trying to find myself and life mission in a foreign country away from those who know me best. I figure now is the best time for such an endeavor. Without judgment of those who know my past ways. The slave castles at Cape Coast really did it for me. Walking through the musty dungeons and seeing the walls scratched by the shackles of my ancestors. Scared in the rank darkness that consumed them. At times sitting in a foot of their own human feces. Even in the fear of the unknown and promise of death a few attempted freedom.That truly did it for me.

        That night we danced on a beach with a bonfire. Playing limbo with fellow Americans. Teaching the Ghanain girls our games. Laughing and smiling all the while. So easy was it to put the slave castles in a different part of our minds. Away from anything that we would want to think about on a regular basis. As of now, I think about it quite often. How close the beach that we swam in was to the water many Africans felt better to sacrifice themselves to, then go with the strange white men.

         What is becoming quite clear to me is that nothing in this world is cut clear and dry. There is no such thing as black and white in any situation. Those who were once my enemies and nothing else may have a new role. Those who I was sure were my friends may not be.