As you may be aware, I traveled to Ghana in August of 2023. Recently I interviewed the five people who traveled with me on the Black and Abroad Tour to the capital of Ghana, Accra. Now, I want to share their stories with you as I prepare to release the interviews with them.
My friend, Chebrya Jeffrey, also interviewed me about the trip and I explained to her that I wanted to go to Africa to do research. As an author, I wrote a novel to explore race and political division. I believe that we’re all in this together, and as a Christian, I think we need to come together as a country and I want to write for justice, to plant seeds for change.
When I pitched the novel to my publisher, I promised to write three books. One about Ireland —Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle (All Things That Matter Press), a second about the Sea Islands, and a third about West Africa. To write that third novel, I needed to visit West Africa. When my friend Selena Singletary told me she was going to Ghana and that the trip would include the Cape Coast Castle, I told her that was where I wanted to go. She told me, “You should come, too,” and I did.
My travel companions chose to visit Ghana for other reasons. Here are their reasons.
My husband, Steve Schlather, joined me on the trip. He said, “My wife was going to Ghana and I wanted to go with her. I had never been to Africa. I was interested in seeing at least something in Africa. I didn’t have a particular interest in Ghana, but it seemed like a reasonable place to go. I looked into the tour group, the Black and Abroad group that Nancy arranged the trip through, and they seemed like they had a really good program, so I thought it’d be interesting.”
Another fellow traveler, Diane Sanders, said that she watched a guy on YouTube who talked a lot about black history, mainly where and how slavery started. This man decided to travel to all 54 countries on the continent of Africa and thought all Blacks who could, should also do this. You can watch this videos on his Youtube channel at: GoBlack2Africa54.
Diane explained that this man visited Ghana in 2019, the Year of Return. That year, the the President of Ghana invited descendants of slaves, the African diaspora, to return to Africa. As Diane watched many famous Black people visiting Ghana in his 2019 videos. They inspired her to visit Ghana, as well.
Diane’s son, Creavon Blair (Blair), planned to visit Tanzania. But then his mother shared the GoBlack2Africa videos. She told him, “We should go to Ghana.” Blair agreed. In our interview he told me, “It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”
Another fellow traveler was Selena Singletary, my former boss at the City of Springfield, Ohio. She told me, “As you know, I like to travel. I was talking to Diane Sanders some time ago about traveling and she mentioned about going to Ghana. And I go like, OK, that sounds great.” Selena also said she wanted to go with a friend, to see a different culture, a different country, and to be immersed in another land other than the US. In addition, she went because of her curiosity and the appeal of Africa as her motherland.
Finally, the couple (Adora and Keita Thompson) who traveled with us had this to say. First Adora said, “I want to go to find my home. I know that United States is not my home, so I want to see people that look like me. Also, Eric (Black and Abroad Tour Company owner) is a very good friend of ours. So we said, when you go, we’re going… And so we went.”
Keita said, “Africa is my mother, and so, more than anything else, I’ve wanted to go to Africa. I’ve been a few times on business, but this was strictly for the soul connection, getting back to my mom, getting back home, touching the hearts and minds and the souls of my people. So that’s what really motivated us and doing it together as one, with Adora.”
In future blogs I will tell you more about what I learned in these interviews with fellow travelers. Follow this blog and my YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@nancyflinchbaugh for future postings.
On Day 3 in Ghana, after witnessing the Naming Ceremony and a hike in the tree canopy at Kakum National Park, we traveled to Cape Coast Castle on the Atlantic Ocean. This foreboding 400-year-old structure now stands quietly by the sea, welcoming tourists like me. I come to fathom the past reality of this place, to understand the history so I can be a witness, someday bringing this awful truth alive in my writing.
This castle represents a very ugly chapter in the history of my country. Some people now want to erase it from our history books and/or sugar coat the atrocity. I want to experience it personally, so I can more effectively speak, write and act to end the racism that started with the slave trade.
The Cape Coast Castle took 300 years to build and is one of 40 castles along the African coast built by Europeans as holding cells for Africans captured to be slaves in the Americas.
A tour guide led us down into male and female dungeons. During the slave trade, hundreds of Africans were cramped into these poorly ventilated rooms for two weeks to three months, awaiting the slave ships. Only 1 out of 5 survived the dungeons. Archaeologists have identified the layer of brown stone-like material over the original floor to be composed of packed and decayed body excrements and organic matter from those imprisoned Africans.
I hated these dungeons. I felt claustrophobic, trying to imagine the horrific experience for the Africans, trapped there for weeks without sanitation, exercise, adequate food and light. I felt numb and sad, angry and bewildered. How could those Europeans treat human beings this way?
In the dungeon, we participated in a candle lighting ceremony for the ancestors. A musician in our group offered a song of tribute. Memorial Wreaths placed in one corner also remembered the Africans who suffered here. We gathered around a small altar for them to learn.
Our guide told us that worship services were held in the rooms above the dungeons. They created a heaven above hell, perhaps they thought he told us. I wondered how. How could any Christian engage in such evil?
Although the practice of slavery began thousands of years before, the magnitude and cruelty of the African slave trade was unprecedented. Europeans traded Africans for various items, including guns. African rulers captured and traded other people from neighboring tribes and spoils of wars.
An estimated 10-14 million Africans were kidnapped and sold as labor for plantations in the Americas. First the Portuguese, then later the French, English and Dutch participated in this horrible enterprise, treating human beings as less than cattle. During the colonial period, the Europeans also captured and controlled most of the entire continent of Africa, taking the resources and using the people for their own profit.
The holding dungeons and slave ships were intentionally developed to weed out the weak. Only the strong survived. If they survived the slave dungeons, at least 20% more died on the ships to America. Most of the Africans were shipped to the Caribbean and South America. Only 388,000 were sold in the American colonies, of what is now the United States of America.
We walked through the “Door of No Return.” The ancestral Africans who walked through that door never returned to their homeland. They were shackled together, then layered into slave ships, enduring horrendous conditions on the trip to the Americas.
In 2019, Ghanaian officials added a new sign on the ocean side of this door. Now “The Door of Return” welcomes the descendants of African slaves who come to page homage to their ancestral home. On our tour, the tribal elders completed the Naming Ceremony started earlier in our day. Libations were offered, an elder washed the feet of the returning descendants, embraced them and handed each a certificate with their new African names.
I’m writing this blog to pay tribute to these African ancestors with this blog. I wrote my book Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle to pay tribute to them as well. I am continuing to write novels to expose and address this grave injustice.
I believe it’s very important to talk about race and to become anti-racist in our words and actions. You can listen to some Talking About Race interviews I’ve done with others on YouTube about why it’s so important to talk about race.
I hope you will join me in speaking up and working against the practices of racism that continue in our country, 400 years later.
On our third day in Ghana, after the Naming Ceremony, we boarded our bus and headed off for the Kakum National Park. I’d researched this park online and looked forward to a walk in the tree canopy of the rain forest, hoping to see some African wildlife. Monkeys, antelopes, forest elephants and numerous colorful birds reside in the 145 mile square reserve.
When we arrived at the park, we were met by a guide for our group. Our leaders handed out raincoats, water bottles and walking sticks. First, we climbed up some steps and hiked up a path through the trees to reach the first platform that led to one of seven connected suspended walkways. The walkways were constructed with narrow planks of wood. Strong netting surrounded both sides of the wood, reaching up to a thick rope that we could use for handrails.
Eager to experience a rainforest and see some wildlife, I was the first one to venture out from our group. I had a great view and looked carefully among the trees below for hints of life. Unfortunately, the time of day and the number of people all around kept the wildlife in hiding. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful walk. Platforms attached to 400–500-year-old trees separated the walks and made a place to stop, enjoy the scenery and take pictures.
I could look across the trees and see other members of our group gingerly trudging across the planks. For some reason, it didn’t scare me, but the others felt differently, evidenced by my husband’s face when I waited for him at the platform. Several of the others had guides walking slowly, backwards, in front of them to encourage them to keep them moving along.
Like in most of the world, Africa is quickly losing its rain forests. In Ghana, the government preserved this one, just like we preserve important natural areas with our national park system.
26% of the land in Africa is classified as forest and the continent is home to 43 billion trees.
I looked up some information about deforestation elsewhere and discovered it continues to be a growing global problem. Forests absorb carbon in the atmosphere. The rain forests in the Congo of Africa are sometimes referred to the “lungs” of the planet, but as we lose our forests, it contributes to global warming.
The United States has witnessed the destruction of a staggering 75% of its virgin forests (since the 1600s). Worldwide, tropical deforestation contributes about 20% of annual global greenhouse gases (GHG) emissions. Every second, a forest the size of a football field is cut down. 40 percent of the tropical deforestation that occurred between 2000 and 2010 is a result of commercial agriculture like cattle ranching and oil palm plantations. At our current rate, all rainforests will be gone in 77 years. 50,000 species are lost each year as a result of deforestation. 25% of Western drugs and pharmaceuticals come from rainforest ingredients. 25% of all cancer fighting drugs come from the rainforest. 75% of tropical rainforests have lost the ability to properly recover from wildfires and drought.
If you’re like me, you’re concerned about the changing climate. People are working to plant trees in the U.S. to replace those cut down. And we are organizing to address the climate. I encourage you to get involved in these efforts if you’re not already. Check out Citizens’ Climate Lobby.. Take advantage of current incentives to rewire your home and your life. A big push toward electric energy will help wean us from fossil fuels. Check out the Rewiring America website. Here you can find the ways the Inflation Reduction Act can benefit you and your organization as you electrify your energy use. I keep incorporating issues about our changing climate in my writing. My latest novel is an environmental love story, Mariah of the Wind. My memoir, Letters from the Earth, is a about a year in my life when I was grappling with this problem.
We stopped at shelters to rest and to listen to our guide talk about the rain forest. His grandfather taught him the natural healing technique using plants. We asked him for advice on specific health problems and he quickly offered natural cures. For bad knees, rub with salt and ginger. For COVID, boil onions, breathe the vapors then drink the cooled juice. Also, cut palm nuts and eat the nut. For migraines, burn to ash the leaves of a tree only found in the rainforest. Cut your forehead and rub it into the vein. He said you’ll never have another migraine.
But he said just being in the rain forest is the greatest healer. The clean, fresh air heals all things. I did feel invigorated and quite healthy after an hour in the park. I agreed with him wholeheartedly. Nature is definitely a great healer. I wrote about this in my novel Revelation at the Labyrinth, where the MAMs Book Club started an organic farm for women in recovery.
From here, we were off to the Cape Coast Castle, the place that made me come to Ghana in the first place, as I work on a second sequel for my novel, Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle. Stay tuned!
Rarely has a day in my life contained so much experience, so much learning, so much pain and so much joy. Here’s the first stop on our day’s journey.
We began the day at the crack of dawn. Up at five a.m., departing our hotel at six. Traveling in Ghana is quite the adventure. For our trip, we were blessed with an excellent Accra native, Francis, who made driving our small bus look quite simple. However, I dared not watch as he wove in and out of the packed streets and paused for the inevitable speed bumps installed to get you to slow down, notice and take care for the market vendors and shoppers in the towns. Some roads are nicely paved, smooth surfaces. Some roads are surfaced with packed dirt and frequent potholes. I don’t think an American car would last a week in Accra. During the frequent slowdowns and stopped traffic, between the lanes of cars came motorcycles, or in the market areas, women walking and selling things stacked in large bowls carried on their heads. An advantage to living in Accra is that you can do your shopping, while stopped in rush hour traffic.
Three hours after leaving our hotel, we arrived in the town of Yamoransa. We waited for a while in the bus, until a taxi arrived with a man who helped organize the event. We would meet him again later at Cape Coast Castle where he led the completion of the ceremony.
We climbed the stairs of a small building, entering a room where sitting tribal elders welcomed us. They were dressed in traditional colorful garments draped over their shoulders and around their bodies. Those with African ancestors, sat in the front row. My husband and I sat behind them to witness the event.
Millions of Africans kidnapped by slave traders and shipped to America in horrid conditions lost their names, along with the loss of their human dignity, homeland and families during the slave era. Today the African Americans in our group, were finally receiving their African names, during this ceremony in English and the native Ga language.
The ceremony began with libations. We followed an elder out into the hall. I remember our Global Education program years ago involved a libation ceremony where we remembered and named ancestors, pouring water. The elder scattered water on the floor, outside the room where we gathered. Then we returned to the room for the ceremony
The West African naming tradition involves naming children, based on the day of the week they were born and their gender. On a later tour, our guide explained its usually done about two weeks after the child is born, when they could be reasonably sure the child would survive. The chief gave each of our members of the diaspora, those generations of lost Africans, a new name, and explained its meaning. Remarkably, the people in our group found their name syncing with aspects of their personalities.
The chief gave one woman the name meaning “fighter”. She told us she’d been fighting all her life. To another, a retired boss, he gave a name meaning authority. To another woman, a name meaning powerful and complete. She said, “I’m complete by myself. I don’t need a man.” He gave one man a name meaning “man of wealth” and to another, a “man of faith.” Outside the drummers maintained a steady beat sounding the significance of the day with a primordial rhythm.
The tour guide told my husband and I (the only white folks in our group) that we could be witnesses. I appreciated that role because that’s what I came to Ghana to do. I want to witness what has happened to the people of West Africa and how that history intertwines with the history of my country. It’s a story of sadness and the capacity of humans to do great evil. The evil sends ripples out into our present day. Like yesterday, when I read the news about another mass shooting, a racist man targeting black people in Jacksonville, Florida.
But today I witnessed the goodness of this homecoming for my fellow travelers. I witnessed the tribal elders welcoming them back to the land of their ancestors. He gave them each a bowl of palm wine to drink, in celebration of their return. At the end of the ceremony, he invited them to stand and introduce themselves to the group. With great hospitality, they also shared the palm wine with my husband and me, the witnesses.
As we left the building a woman invited me to dance. I moved gently in sync with her, celebrating the African naming of my friends. As we danced, the newly named posed for pictures with the tribal elders and the drummers continued the beat of this day the diaspora came home.
What a gift that woman gave to me, inviting me to dance at this special time. Could she know how much I love to dance? Do you see how wonderful it was for me, a witness, to be invited to dance this day?
On the second day of our Black and Abroad Ghana Tour, we woke refreshed at the Hotel Motenpick in the center of Ghana’s capital, Accra. We stepped into the breakfast buffet by 7 a.m., feasting on an amazing spread that included almost everything you could imagine for the first meal of the day. I selected oatmeal with cinnamon and honey, scrambled eggs with potatoes, grilled vegetables and orange slices, jicama and pineapple, topped off with green tea. Well-nourished, we set off at 8:30 for our “City Tour.” The day proved to be a kaleidoscope of colors and activities, including visiting markets, purchasing cloth, learning to drum and learning about the early history of Ghana.
A photographer joined our group who captured our experiences with finesse. We were instructed to only take pictures of the people if we asked permission first. Sometimes, our guide told us tourists take pictures and post them on social media portraying a false view of poverty. He said the people of Ghana are hard-working people. They don’t want us to communicate something that isn’t true.
I’ve thought about this a lot as the images of Accra swim in my mind. What did you expect, our guide asked at dinner the first night. Did your preconceived notions of Africa match the reality? Well, I said, I looked at the pictures online of Accra, seeing a modern city, so yes, it’s what I expected.
But really, before booking this trip, I must ask myself what was my impression of Africa over the years? Largely, I must admit a vast and diverse unknown. A history of tribes and dark people, developing civilizations through the common era morphing into the period of European colonization, and then independence, starting slowly and spreading throughout the continent. I remember stories of apartheid in my youth and celebrating the liberation of the people of South Africa and deeply inspirational stories of Nelson Mandela. I remember vaguely stories of newly liberated countries beginning again with self-rule after European domination. As a mediator, I’ve marveled at the work of reconciliation after colonial rule. I’ve known several African immigrants in my church and bits and pieces of their Africa. I also imagined deserts, savannahs and rains forests with animals I’ve only known in zoos. Mostly, I probably haven’t thought much about Africa in my life. Developed or developing? Rich or poor? Democratic or Socialist? I admit the complexity of the many countries are beyond my knowledge.
Now, I am here to focus on Ghana. Ghana, because many African-Americans’ ancestors originated from this region through the slave trade. And on this second day of our tour, we traveled through the streets to the market. Our guides took us up high to look down on city streets lined with umbrellas and vendors selling everything you can imagine, along with fresh fruits and vegetables. Think permanent farmer markets that we enjoy only during summer months where I live in Springfield, Ohio. On one corner a keyboardist and drummer provided music for the crowd, amplified through speakers, with vocals we could hear at the building top. Women walk with large metal bowls on their heads, rather than carrying shopping bags. Their purchases are placed in the bowl to be carried back home. Many also carry items to sell in the head bowls.
We followed our guide, meandering among many stands and eventually into an indoor market. There we met Zia, a woman selling Ghanaian high-quality cloth, GDP. They encouraged us to select fabric. Later a seamstress would visit our hotel to measure us for a custom-made outfit. We perused so many bright colors and patterns, stacked on the shelves of the small cubicle, and my husband and I selected a colorful purple and green pattern, planning to arrange for a shirt for him and matching dress for me.
Next, we visited an artisan’s market. We were ushered into a small stall where drums and masks lined the walls. We sat down on chairs, and soon a group of men joined us, sitting across, introducing themselves as northern Africans. They picked up the beautifully crafted drums and began to perform. My body relaxed into the primordial rhythms that have calmed and communicated for centuries.
After their performance, they passed the drums to us for an impromptu lesson, instructing us in simple beats. Both hands, tapping twice on the front of the drum, then a one-handed rap in the center. Then four taps followed by two raps. We rotated our new rhythms, following him into the beats. He signaled kind approval and delight at what sounded to me as our nearly flawless performance (or not). I wanted to buy one of these drums, but instead watched as Keita, our group member who is a musician and professor at Clark University in Atlanta, negotiated the purchase of a large $1,000 drum, about $100 US dollars.
What kept me from buying one? Perhaps the unknown shipping cost, my instrument acquisition tendencies which fill our house with quite a few instruments I don’t play and/or my husband’s less than enthusiastic response all conspired to hold me back. It is the one thing that I really wanted to buy, and I didn’t. My husband reminded me I have a bodhran, an Irish drum, already at home.
I’ve dreamed of joining a drumming circle. I want to be a drummer. It’s a form of mediation, and I’m all into contemplative practices to take me into the silence. Like my other musical forays, I could see drumming as an enjoyable past time. I’m thinking I’m pretty sure I could arrange a purchase through one of our tour guides…
But instead, I bought earrings and a brightly colored backpack and bag sporting the Kente cloth motif, albeit probably made in China, unlike the authentic African drum that I could have purchased. Oh well.
Before lunch, we visited the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park which celebrates Ghana’s first president, Dr. Kwame Nkrumah. The museum is located on a city square, once home to a private British polo club where Africans were not allowed. The first president reclaimed this area for the people, during his time in power. As we toured the grounds, I grew in respect for this man. Groups of school children in brightly colored uniforms streamed through the park around us.
President Nkrumah attended college at the historically Black educational institution of Lincoln University in Pennsylvania. Educated there with fellow Africans, together they began dreaming and planning to lead their countries into independence. However, when he returned home, the British were still in charge. His political activities landed him in prison for organizing for change.
Nevertheless, when the British sought to elect an African to leadership, beginning some semblance of self-rule, his people nominated him, as he sat in the prison cell. Amazingly, he was elected and the British released him in 1951, cutting short his three-year sentence.
In 1957, Ghana achieved independence from Britian and Dr. Nkrumah became their first president. He resolved to lead the people into a new era. In a short period of time, he accomplished so much, establishing free public education, building infrastructure and industry, and developing health care, including construction of hospitals and clinics. A socialist by belief, he envisioned a strong country with well-educated citizens who would work hard to build a better future. His aspirations also included such development for fellow African nations, whom he assisted.
I read a book in preparation for this trip that said he became a dictator and was overthrown in a coup after almost nine years. However, our tour guide told a different story. Because he wrote a book that explained his policies, including nationalization of natural resources, this upset the corporations of the United States of America. Our guide told us that my country, the United States of America, helped finance the coup.
It’s not the first time I’ve been ashamed of my country. When I began to be aware of the enormity of civil rights problems in college, I asked my mom to quit making me red, white and blue birthday cakes. (I was born on our Independence Day, the 4th of July). I remember visiting El Salvador in the 1980s, when I worked with Christians for Peace in El Salvador. We worked to get the word out about what was really happening in El Salvador, contrary to my government’s support of right-wing death squads. The list could go on. But suffice it to say, in the USA we are taught in school we are a freedom loving people, helping free the world for democracy. So many times, that is not the truth. Our government often supports the wrong side. And when it comes to race issues, I know all too well the continuing problems in our country.
The Africans are working hard now to teach the children about the vision of their first president. That is why there were so many school children at the museum. They work toward continued development of a well- educated Ghana with health care for all and a healthy economy.
Later, we visited the home of W. E. Dubois, American civil rights activist, scholar/professor and prolific author, who advised President Nkrumah during his time in office. Dubois attended Clark University in Atlanta, Fisk University and obtained his doctorate from Harvard. Dubois also supported Pan-Africanism and Socialism throughout his life. He moved to Accra in his 90s to write an encyclopedia for Ghana
We finished the day, visiting the “Eiffel Tower” of Ghana, at Independence Square. At the top of the tower is the Black Star, a symbol of their independence.
Two things that I take away from this day are:
1) The incredible leadership of both President Nkrumah and W. E. Dubois. The used their education for the betterment of the people. In the Dubois house, the rooms were filled with pictures of other great people, men and women, who led their people in good ways. It makes me wonder, what more can I do for the betterment of humanity with my one life. If Dubois could move to Ghana in his nineties, what can I do in my sixties and seventies? Am I sleeping on the job?
2) The interchange of ideas among people of many countries was very evident. President Nkrumah was educated in the United States, where he connected with Africans from other countries and their cross-pollination led to independence movements across Africa. Both Nkrumah and W.E.B. Dubois traveled extensively and met and exchanged ideas with many world leaders. Martin Luther King, Jr. visited Ghana and his “I Have a Dream” speech was inspired in part by his learning from President Nkrumah. I want to continue to learn more from people of other countries, also.
The day ended with relaxation at our hotel. I am feeling so grateful for this opportunity to visit Ghana. I also am very appreciative of the Black and Abroad company that makes this learning possible.
From Dayton to Atlanta, from Atlanta to New York, from New York to Accra, Ghana. A smooth whirlwind, with on time aircrafts, comfortable seating and voila! we arrived halfway around the world in Africa, in less than 24 hours. Our final ten-hour flight held mostly Ghanaian nationals heading home. Other than flight attendants, my husband and I were some of the few white people on board. A couple in our tour group reported their joy to arrive at the Kotoka International Airport and see all Black bodies. They bowed down and kissed the earth. Here in Ghana, Blackness is normal, I’m the odd one out. Feeling a little conspicuous with my whiteness, given the history of European colonialism here.
However, the Ghanaians welcomed us with friendly smiles and warm greetings. We learned to say Hello in their native tongue. We checked into the five-star Movenpick Hotel in the business district of Accra by three p.m. settled into our room and by six pm we gathered in the lobby to meet our Black and Abroad tour staff and go out for our first meal together.
But first they had a surprise for us. They led us out onto a patio where brightly clad youth and a drum corps welcomed us to Ghana. The smiling young people danced, sang and spoke warm words of welcome. They danced their native dances with stomps and kicks, well synchronized and full of joy. They held up the letters of “W.E.L.C.O.M.E.” and extended greeting with words starting with each letter. Later they each introduced themselves, starting with “Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is… and describing positive attributes about themselves. They even sang my theme song, “You are My Sunshine” as they danced. I knew I was in the right place at the right time, so blessed to be here.
After they performed with great expertise and flourish, they came out among us. A smiling young lady took me by the hand to invite me into the dance. If you know me, you know I sat there tapping my feet and longing to join, so I delightedly rose to participate. The bright girl laughed with me as I tried to imitate her steps. We danced long enough to excite my heart into happy beats. What a welcome to Ghana! Such joy.
The children led us into a circle, and then they ushered several of us into the center to shine. I was a little slow to catch on. After my turn in the center, I began to dance again. My new friend gently asked, “Do you want to dance again?” – I believe a polite and kind way of informing me to watch the others.
Later we talked to the leaders of the children and learned they are from an elementary school, grades 1-8 where they teach the students in both English and French. We are also learning that education is greatly valued in Ghana and as we travel through the city and towns, we see many signs for schools.
After our wonderful surprise, we visited Buko Resto for a family style dinner overflowing with traditional Ghanaian food. We enjoyed fried plantain, rice, chicken wings, chicken and beef kabobs, French fries, tilapia, grilled vegetables and much more, all fairly spicy and flavorful. We also became better acquainted with some of the people in our tour group over dinner. Adura, A hair stylist and her African American Studies professor husband, Keita, from Atlanta, and an IT guy, Devon, who works with a nonprofit called “Evident Change”, round out our small group of seven, including my husband and I and the two other friends, Selena and Diane, from Springfield, Ohio. All amazing people who are enriching this travel experience.
We returned to the hotel by nine, five p.m. Ohio time. However, sleep came easy after limited shuteye on the overnight flight. We were thankful for our comfortable accommodations and slept rather soundly at the Hotel Motenpick.
Preparation is complete. I am on the plane. Next stop, Atlanta. It’s 3 p.m. EST and in less than 24 hours if all goes well, I will be in Africa!
I find it totally amazing that I am so fortunate to go on this trip. Even though I said I need to go to West Africa for my writing, I didn’t believe it would happen. When my former boss, Selena Singletary, told about her trip to Ghana, I told her, “That’s where I want to go!” She said, “You should come!”
When I discovered the tour included the slave castle on the coast, I started to talk about going. My husband was not enthused. We already had planned a Vacation by Rail to western national parks in June and a family week at Lakeside on Lake Erie in July. We previously decided to travel less this year. Yet, what an opportunity! Fortunately, a few weeks later he decided to come along.
Selena and her friend had booked the trip with Black and Abroad who pride themselves as customer-friendly travel company, working to provide quality experiences at reasonable prices. But still, this eight-day tour cost nearly $4,000 a piece, not including airfare, and flights to Ghana are not cheap. Nevertheless, I signed up and booked our flights.
A few weeks later, my blood pressure skyrocketed when I learned that my husband’s name was misspelled on his airline ticket. This meant our reservations must be cancelled and rescheduled at an additional cost of $400 each. Please learn from my mistake. I booked over the phone. The person taking the reservation made the mistake, but I had to pay $800 because I didn’t notice it within 24 hours.
That was one of the times I wondered, is it worth the expense? Definitely, the most expensive trip of my life. What do you think? Because I’m on a mission to write about race in America, I believe this trip is worth the expense. The white privilege that enables me to persist rather than cancel, also prods me to come.
This same white privilege smacks me in the face as I cruise along the runway in Comfort Plus seating. Soon we’re in the air, heading south to Atlanta, high above I-75. We don’t usually fly in comfortable seats, but it’s a consolation prize for the added expense. As I fly, I’m thinking about my comfort and the difference between my travel to Ghana and the travel experience of those kidnapped Ghanaians who made the trip across the Atlantic Ocean tied down in slave vessels, some four hundred years ago.
Wikipedia defines a pilgrimage as “a journey into an unknown or foreign place where a person goes in search of new or expanded meaning about their self, others, nature or a higher good through the experience. It can lead to a personal transformation after which the pilgrim returns to their daily life.”
The definition jives with my reason for this trip, yet my traveling companion says no, forget that. I think she means this is a vacation. For her, yes, but for me this is a spiritual pilgrimage to understand, to bear witness, and to write. This isn’t primarily about spending money and having a good time, although I will do both. But mainly, I’m coming in partnership with God to write.
Does that sound audacious? Yes, and I have a history of audacity. Read my memoir, Letters from the Earth, about a year in my life when I believe God, aka Gaia, wrote me letters. The letters blessed me as I grappled with climate change, the illness of a close friend and the death of my brother. I do believe that God is involved in what’s happening in our world and wants us to focus on love.
I see and hear so much hate these days in racist rhetoric, in a very unfair criminal justice system, and in systemic discrimination in America, beginning with slavery, continuing with Jim Crow and civil rights violations, and now the new Jim Crow. If you grew up white in America, you may not see it, but believe me it is very real. I retired two years ago from my career of fighting for fair housing and human rights, and I could never do enough. I believe it’s my responsibility, as a white person in America, to continue to work to stop racism. While some white people now work to ban books about race, prohibit discussion of race in our schools and pretend there is no problem, I am spending my money and time to visit Africa and learn about the Gullah people and the history and culture of Ghana.
Last Sunday, Pastor Adam Banks of First Baptist Springfield, Ohio, where I attend, preached about Jesus walking on water. (You can listen to his amazing sermon on YouTube by clicking on his name). He focused on Simon Peter, who stepped out in faith and joined Jesus on the water. When Simon began to doubt, he started to sink. Jesus called out, took his hand, asking him to trust.
I’m with Simon Peter. I planned this trip, stepping out in faith, but began to doubt as the cost skyrocketed. We spent more money to get our visas, Yellow Fever and Typhoid vaccinations and malaria pills. I wondered, could I really write something significant? But Sunday, I listened to Pastor Adam and remembered my call from God to do this work. I trust God will lead me, so I step out in faith and take Jesus’ hand. I may not walk on water, but I will do my part. I plan to speak up and speak out about what I learn, and continue to address the problem of race in America.
And I invite you again, come along and join me. Let’s go to Africa!
I am going to Africa, and I want to invite you to come along. I planned this trip to learn about Ghana and the slave trade. I want to learn about the heritage of the Gullah people, about these people who were forcibly removed from their homelands to make money for southern plantation owners in the United State of America. It’s an important part of our history.
I’m also going to fulfill my commitment to All Things That Matter Pressto write another sequel to my novel they published last year, Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle. I’ve almost finished the first sequel, Revelation on the Sea Island, which explores the Gullah people through the eyes of the Magnificent and Marvelous Book Club, and their group home fellow travelers. The next book will emerge from this trip.
I’m going for one week. That seems inadequate on so many levels, but it is what is and I want to make the most of it. I decided today, I will blog about it to share my experiences, so that all of the money I’m spending might have some enduring value.
Some of myFacebookfriends tell me they follow my daily escapades and travels. I like to take pictures. I like to celebrate people, experiences and nature. If you are my Facebook friend, you would know what I mean. Somebody recently told me, “You know we live vicariously through you, Nancy.” So, that gave me the idea to take you along on an adventure to the Old World, to the continent of Africa, to learn and explore. Let’s do together!
Today I’ve been reading a little book, The History of Ghana:From Ashanti to Accra by Adeoye Adekunle. My friend, Holly Wolfe, our local reference librarian purchased this for my husband and me. When she couldn’t find the right book in our library, she ordered one from Amazon, paying for it herself. Talk about going above and beyond! Thank you, Holly!
The book is perfect – with only 115 pages it condenses centuries of West African history into a quick read, with descriptions of some of the places our tour will visit. As I read, I try to fathom how such evil could take place. In the region now Ghana, millions of people were kidnapped, imprisoned in the slave castles on the coast then shipped to the New World like cattle.
I remember studying African civilization as a religion major in college, and again when studying history to become a social studies teacher. I even taught some of this history while student teaching. But now the history comes alive in a new way. I cry not only about what happened then, but for how it impacts Africans today, and all Americans. This is what I want to understand and explore.
I also want to experience the beauty and goodness of the Ghanaian African culture. I’m looking forward to eating, feasting with my eyes, appreciating the art and dancing! Our Black and AbroadTour Company just sent playlists of Ghanian music on Spotify. As listen, it sounds strangely familiar as I suspect the Africans shared their music now expressed in the reggae, soul and the blues music on the American scene.
Have you ever been inspired by the spirit of an ancestor? Or have you ever received a visit from an angel or person who is not of this world?
In my new book, Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle, The Magnificent and Marvelous Book Club (the MAMs) return in an adventure of discovery to explore their Irish roots, taking along members of their group homes. Grieving MAM and widow Abigail coordinate the trip, while Welby, a Black ex-convict and Reagan, a white nurse in recovery, fight attraction across their racial and political divide.
A trio of spirits conspires to lead them into hope for their lives and the future. It’s a little wacky, a little bit of magic and lots of fun. Afraid they’re seeing ghosts or going crazy, Abigail, Reagan and Welby aren’t quite sure how to respond. The Spirit sightings add to the adventure as the group tours the Emerald Isle, with its own share of magic and ancient spiritual traditions.
The first spirit to appear is a Leprechaun, Síocháin. In Irish folklore, leprechauns hide in the woods and enjoy playing tricks and creating mayhem. The Irish who migrated to the United States brought stories of the little guys along. In fact, Walt Disney popularized the leprechauns by writing them into a movie script, Darby O’Gill and the Little People, produced in 1959. In my novel, Síocháin appears first to Abigail who soon learns she has Irish DNA. The leprechaun recommends a spirit of listening on their exploration of Ireland. Next, Síocháin startles Welby on a silent retreat in the heart of Ireland, calling him to greatness. Later, the group tour a Leprechaun Museum in Dublin.
The second spirit to appear is Grand MaMa. Grand MaMa is the deceased great-grandmother of Welby who comes to Ohio to enter the MAMs Book Club’s Sun Power House for men in recovery. Grand MaMa startles Welby as he’s getting situated in Ohio and shows up again in Ireland. Grand MaMa also shows up on the labyrinth during the silent retreat, startling Nancy Reagan Smith (Reagan), a white woman who is a member of the FARM (Farming and Restoring with the MAMs), an organic farm and halfway house for women in recovery.
The final spirit is St. Brigid, an Irish nun from the 6th century who promoted and practiced hospitality, contemplative prayer, peace, social justice and concern for the Earth. St. Brigid appears to Reagan in a dream and also to Abigail at the silent retreat held at Irish Solas Bridhe Retreat Center and Hermitage, which is coordinated by modern nuns of the St. Brigid order.
The spirits add some mischief and fun to the story and call out the best in the characters during this novel of adventure and exploration.
Read Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle to meet the leprechaun, Grand MaMa, St. Brigid, as well as the people they seek to influence: Abigail, Welby and Reagan.
As we celebrate the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr. today, we remember his prophetic and visionary life. We celebrate his courage and leadership. We retell the stories of the civil rights movement. As we continue to mourn the death of Dr. King, we acknowledge his martyrdom because two weeks after his death, Congress passed monumental civil rights legislation, putting an end to legal racial discrimination.
Forty-four years later, we haven’t overcome. In the wake of the public killing of George Floyd, replayed over and over on national TV in the midst of the early pandemic stay-at-home days, much discussion and some change have happened. Many calls for an end to racial injustice and police brutality with safeguards for citizens, but many others are trying to stop the discussion of racism, calling for eliminating “critical race theory” in the schools, which might make white students feel bad about themselves. Teaching the truth about our history is so important that we can all work to make America better. We must confront the evil in our past to eliminate it in our future. Yes, it’s unpleasant, but we shouldn’t pretend it didn’t happen so that we can feel good. We must cultivate empathy and love toward each other. We must agree that the injustices must stop.
Today, I believe we need new prophets and leaders to call us to love each other again, speak truth to power, and build a country where everyone truly has an opportunity. I hear these prophets in the authors’ words I’ve read in the past few years.
I recently read the Sum of Us: Why Racism Hurts Us All and How We Can Prosper Together by Heather McGee. This brilliantly written discussion of what is wrong with the USA points to directions for improvement. McGee’s impressive research and analysis underscore the role of racism in the history of our country. She lifts the many ways that racism damages not just people of color but most of us. I was so impressed with her ability to consolidate so much information into a very readable and prophetic treatise. And the book illuminates our path forward, calling us to build diverse coalitions to start advocating for an America that works for everyone. I hear prophetic voices in the words of Isabella Wilkerson, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Ibram X. Kendi, Michelle Alexander, and Robin DiAngelo as I’ve read their books in recent years.
I wrote my most recent novel, Revelation in the Roots: Emerald Isle, as I grapple with the racial injustice in my country and our divided political landscape. One of my characters, Welby, hears a call to be a Martin Luther King, Jr. for today. I hope that you and I can hear that call as well, to continue the work of Dr. King, who continues to inspire me by his life and these words:
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” “Never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was legal.” “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” “Faith is taking the first step even when you can’t see the whole staircase.” ― Martin Luther King Jr.
