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Jacque Kofi photo

The Cape Coast Slave Castle is featured below in the latest entry in the Journal Through Ghana.

One Black Voice recently took his guitar and recorder and jumped the big pond, going Beyond Boundaries to the Motherland, yes, the Motherland. After years of writing, recording and releasing CDs on the beauty, wisdom and depth of Afrikan heritage, these were the real-deal physical experiences I won't forget.
Touchdown was in Ghana's capital city of Accra. That's West Afrika, home of the great, historic Asante kingdom, its famous gold trade, the late, great President Kwame Nkrumah and the first Afrikan nation to regain its independence from colonial rule. Touchpoints of the journey included Kumasi, the second-largest city and home of the kente cloth makers; way up north to Bolgatanga, where the beautiful baskets are woven; nearby to Sirigu and the all-women artists organization; and back down to the enslaved castles on the coast; and the Mole Game Reserve for a walking safari. The drums are calling me back already.
Follow the journey's Journal Through Ghana, further below.
Hotep! (Peace), Jacque Kofi, a.k.a. One Black Voice

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Welcome to A Journey Through Afrika:
Ghana-style!


Jacque Kofi photo
Taken at the Sirigu Women's Organization of Pottery and Art workshop in Northern Ghana.

Jacque Kofi photos
The scene at the Mole Game Reserve in northwest Ghana reminded me of the scene of the painting in my parents' living room.

    Ellen Blalock photo         Jacque Kofi photo






 Map of Ghana


"A Journey Through Afrika" literally begins


Day 1
Touch down in Accra, Ghana: 6:06 a.m. Thursday, July 20.
I'm amazed that I'm here. Absolutely amazed. I walk down the steps of the plane. I take my first steps on Afrikan ground, home of my ancestors - the Motherland. I kiss my hand and slap the earth in pure joy and triumph. It is a miracle we're still here, you know, and able to return home. I smile. I can't stop - smiling. And then, I smile some more. ...

I'm traveling with the Beyond Boundaries organization. Based in Syracuse, Beyond Boundaries supports several organizations in Ghana helping schools, girls and women as part of its broader mission to bridge the gap in cultural understanding across the world.
The first day here in Ghana packed in a lot - a lot of travel time to Kumasi on roads under construction. But first we spent a lot of time in Accra. (If you ever go, or return, you must visit Papaye's Restaurant. Oh, the rice is amazing!)

Jacque Kofi photo
On the road to Kumasi later on Day One, we stopped at a rest area patrolled by lizards. Well, they were just a little at home in the area, so we took some photos.

But wait! How could I forget to mention that it took me just a few hours in Accra before I nearly got arrested and detained at the Ghanaian Embassy! Our group needed to fill out some visitors' forms, and I had my video camera in hand as we walked into the embassy area, like a typical tourist. Guards called me over and took me into an office because they said I was filming the area outside of the embassy, a definite no-no, apparently.

Fact is, I hadn't taken any video of the area. I played the tape and one guy tried his best to say he saw a shot of the embassy. I had to play it over and over and over. It showed that I had stopped filming well before we even arrived at the embassy. Our guide Gordon stayed with me and they even questioned him. A parade of officials were called in about 5 minutes apart from each other - each one looking more important than the last - and asked me and Gordon questions. They were trying to appear serious, but were generally nice while asking basic questions.

Finally, they let me go. Whew! My first few hours in the Motherland and my journey was almost over. I almost spent the rest of the trip behind bars! Again, Gordon, thanks, bruh!

Jacque Kofi photos
Our guide, Gordon, rockin' the straw lid at Sirigu. Ha! Cool breeze!

In all, my first impressions were that Accra, in many ways, looked like Atlanta, D.C., or Detroit at first. Ghanaians were going about their daily business in busses, cars, buildings, etc. But, oh, the sites, sounds and the people, the beautiful, colorful clothing. They were surpassed only by the beautiful smiles. My people. I'm home!

Traveling through Ghana.

                                                       

Day 2

We're on a journey to Bolgatanga, which is at the northern border of Ghana, near Burkina Faso, but we stayed the night in Kumasi. It's a long, bumpy ride on red dirt roads full of potholes.
Did it take 10 hours? Or was it 20? I can't tell. :-) Anyway, we drove through Kumasi on our way to Bolga and experienced this huge market from the van. It was like a ring around the center city with vendors on the edges and the market down low in the bowl. People everywhere with all sorts of vibrant, colorful wear, items to sell and the richest, darkest most beautiful complexions you'll ever see.
On the way, I think I began to exhale a little - it started to sink in that I'm here. I relaxed a bit more than yesterday. I'm loving it. ... We ate at an outdoor restaurant, beautiful, with palm trees, including a small one I wanted to take home. On the way out, in the van, it hit me that I would have to leave in another week or so. The trip was really just beginning and already I was getting emotional about having to leave.

 

Jacque Kofi photo

The Beyond Boundaries crew at Market in Kumasi.

Day 3

No time for much journal  writing today. Just enough to jot down the following: Thank you for keeping the culture/Thank you for surviving the genocide/Thank you for fighting the vultures/They're surprised to find you're still alive ...

Day 4

Wow! It's been so non-stop again.  Sunday was a great day. Hot. Wonderful shower and breakfast. Margaret Mary, a.k.a "Auntie,'' a wonderful lady who works with the CENSUDI organization that helps girls and women and is supported  by Beyond Boundaries, stopped by our breakfast spot to say Good Day and that she'd see us later at her home for lunch. Yes!

But before that, I talked to two Bolgatanga teens who have been hanging around Beyond Boundaries visitors for years. They were welcoming, well-spoken and nice. I asked them if I could interview them for a music project I'm working on and they said no problem. I said I'm asking people what does Pan-Afrikan unity mean to them? Both gave thoughtful, deeply felt answers. Will go great in a song I'll write one day to further the message. ...

Then we went to this church near the visitors' center. It had big, tall,wide doors and windowsthat made it feel very open. It was a Catholic service,pretty much like back in the U.S.

The church service was wonderful. The message was a little difficult to make out. The choir was great. They sang amazing harmonies - like music I'd heard before but never live like this  -- perfect. Blessed to see and hear it all. Curious to see Jesus and Mary depicted as Caucasian in this 100 percent Afrikan church in Ghana, though.

  

Jacque Kofi  photo

Above, Bolgatangans head to one of many Sunday church services behind the visitors' center where we stayed. In the middle is a beautiful, unique tree outside of the Manhiya Palace Museum (last photo above) in Kumasi, home of the Asantehene, King of the Ashantis.

I was disappointed, too, that I did not bring my battery charger for my video camera. So, no more video - and I'm out of 35 millimeter film for my still camera. Ugh! Thank Elegba/God/Allah/Jah/the Creator for Barb and Ellen who videotaped my impromptu performance later at Auntie's house.
At Auntie's house was a great big beautiful baobab tree withchildren all around it playing. We ate a wonderful lunch, admired the art and decorations of the home and watched a little soccer on TV. A few of us went outside with the children and we sang songs to each other and Barb and Ellen recordedit all.
I could hardly imagine I'd actually be singing ''Serengeti,'' which mentions the storied Afrikan baobab tree, while standing in front of an actual baobab tree - and with a dozen or so Ghanaian children standing in front of and around you watching my every move? And who'd have imagined singing "Kazoola's Song", about valuing our Afrikan names and heritage, in the land where they keep the culture alive and strong in the midst of difficult conditions?
Yet, that's what happened. Sweet. ...
I have to say, though, that I was a bit surprised that many of the children I met had European, instead of Afrikan, first names. I guess I thought it was just us African Americans who had that phenomenon placed on us, as if Afrikan names are not beautiful, meaningful or good enough for those who converted to another faith.
It was also unsettling to sing the students my little songs about embracing our centuries-old culture, history and traditional Afrikan names and then have them sing traditional European church songs back to me in English -- songs that I knew as a child back in the States. Where were the traditional Ghanaian songs celebrating life and traditional faith, I wondered? 
Gordon, our guide, took a few of us atop Auntie's house and explained how his family's history revolves around a baobab tree not far away from his father's house and Auntie's house - that's where generations of his family learned with stories revealing wisdom and history.
Unbelievable day. Finished it with dinner at a restaurant. It wasn't so good this time. The chicken was too fatty. Had two sodas, though, to help make up for it. ;-)

Jacque Kofi photo
The art, crafts and architecture were interesting in many places, including roadside on the way to the Sirigu artists' village.
Day 5
Each day here in Bolga, we awake to ringing church bells. Today, though, I woke up before the bells and couldn't go back to sleep. I went to the restroom and heard roosters crowing, so I grabbed my MP3 player to record them to use in my music.
I decided to capture as many early morning sounds as I could. I walked around the center, observing the goats tied to stakes and recording the birds, buses, bugs, children and cars, etc. Then I heard gutteral sounds in the distance. I followed them and found four young men going through an intense martial arts workout. They finished and came over to greet me, welcoming me to Bolga. Later, they tracked me down to say goodbye and exchange information to stay in touch. Cool.
Earlier in the trip, being here felt, among many other things, a bit familiar. Like it made sense in some kind of "I've been here before" way. I'm tired, but the trip is just getting better. Awesome
Random thoughts: Our guide reminds me of my youngest brother. ... the buckets and sheets of rain that fell as we neared Bolgatanga in the van was powerful. ... How the sun could get hot real quick and force you to quickly find some shade. ... The great panoramic view of the village and farmland from atop Francisca's home. ... Hearing how much of the family history revolves around a baobab tree still alive, just yards away from Francisca's home.

Day 6 
Great day! Got up early to visit CENSUDI. Was cool. Heard some sweet music coming from one of the many roadside businesses. Didn't have time to find out if they were selling it. Dag! Went to breakfast up the street and around the corner from the visitors' center, but left early to give Auntie and CENSUDI workers a copy of my CD. On the way, Gordon appeared out of nowhere on a moped, wagging his finger and smiling as he disappeared down the road into the traffic.
Too funny!
This brother, a teacher, is like a United Nations ambassador, speaks about seven different languages/dialects so he's at home everywhere in Ghana.
On the way back from breakfast, met an interesting young businessman/vendor named Roger and his friends. He's from Bolga, but works in Accra, about 10-12 hours away to the south. He had some very insightful and positive things to say about Pan Afrikan unity for my project.
We hopped the van and hit the bumpy roads to Sirigu, too, on this day. On the road to Sirigu is this amazing display of huge baobab trees and housing complexes with beautiful art designs on the outside. Sirigu is the home of SWOPA, the Sirigu Women Organization of Pottery and Art. The women make all the artwork, including pottery, fabric, bows and paintings. The decorations on the outside wall of their center matched the mudcloth-patched design on the shirt I was wearing. Very cool.

Ellen Blalock Photo
The sky in Ghana seems so much more vast, wide open, panoramic. We could see the patch of dark clouds and lightning in the distance coming long before the heavy rains actually arrived. It was almost surreal watching it arrive.

Jacque Kofi photo

SWOPA's success brought an historic 2002 visit from fellow Ghanaian Kofi Annan, the United Nations Secretary-General, which is commemorated in this statue at the center.

Later, many of us were interviewed by a young Ghanaian woman, who is a student at Temple University in Philadelphia. We also visited some of the artists and spent time picking out kente cloth from many stacks in a building behind the main gift shop. (Below). 

Jacque Kofi photo

Some of Sirigu's artists take a photo break.

Day 7 

Today is about the midway point of the trip. Started to daydream about getting back home and into a hot bath and being able to say, "Hey! I've been to the Afrika,'' and relive the wonderful moments of this trip.
Also cool to know we had eight more days of experiences awaiting. I was talking to another traveler when the young martial artists came into the courtyard. I thought they were passing through to the other side, then realized, there is no exit behind me, they were coming to greet ME and exchange information. Cool.
Following tradition, they greeted me first, then my friend, Ellen. They were going to ask me to join them in their exercises the following morning. That was cool of them. Problem was, we were leaving that day so I couldn't do it. Dag! I was so disappointed. That would have been great. Maybe next time I return. 

And I definitely want to return.

Jacque Kofi photo

Our fearless leader warned us about traveling across the swampy land to see the elephants, but we couldn't resist. Neither could she. Parasites and other dangerous critters be durned! Ha! We made it across, of course, but guess who would be the one to fall into the muck - twice. Sorry, Mardea. :-( You are a trooper, though.)

Day 8
Oh man, how tiring was that ride to the Mole Game Reserve! Incredibly bumpy red dirt roads for miles and miles in the middle of the night. We passed through areas of different terrain, trees, etc. And then at night, we passed areas where communities exist, with people still out talking, music blaring and others traveling by foot or on bicycle or motorbike.
All sorts of trucks were stranded, in need of repair with people working on them using only the light of firewood set on the road in the otherwise pitch blackness.
It was grueling. Not for the faint of heart at all. Then, on top of that, it was 11:30 p.m.-ish and we hadn't eaten dinner and we had to get up at 6 a.m. for the 7 a.m. walking safari. No breakfast, just a swig of water (OK, we had bread and peanut butter and juice before we went to bed). But that was it! :-)

Day 9

Didn't know how I was going to survive this day on such little sleep. But I knew I was going to enjoy it anyway based on the incredible view we had overlooking the reserve. We couldn't see it when we arrived last night, but this great view was right outside our rooms.
The walking safari was great. Baboons, deer, green monkeys, antelope and then the biggest thrill of all, literally, was the elephants! We walked a clear pathway as the baboons scattered to the sides, then saw the pigs (complete with tusks). Then we went over to a single elephant eating from grass and trees by itself. We took photos, then made our way through the rest of the reserve.
We stopped at a big tree fort-like structure. I was sweating up a storm, grasping for air and happy to have a chance to stop and rest. I swear I must have been sick with something. One visitor in a group ahead of us had to be taken back to the headquarters earlier. He didn't look so good.
Across the lake from the tree fort, we saw about 15 to 20 elephants gathered hundreds of yards beyond the lake/swamp. At first, we weren't going to go over to them because it meant traveling through the swamp, getting wet and exposed to different insects and maybe parasites or something in the water.
After sitting a while, enjoying the view of the lake, scattered deer and the elephants in front of us in the distance, we couldn't resist. The guide led us across the swamp and finally, right up to the elephants. Unbelievable to get that close to a wild elephant - about 18 of them!

Jacque Kofi photos

The first thing I remember seeing is two of them facing each other and wrapping their trunks around each other. (Funny how my parents have a painting of two elephants facing each other wrapping their trunks around each other in the center of their living room.) Occasionally, the elephants would look over at us taking photos and video. (Silly humans! they must have thought). Finally, they slowly, sort of in groups, made their way to the other side of the lake -- way away from us. They ended up in the lake right in front of the tree fort we'd just sat in.
By that time, we'd crossed another part of the reserve and could see them from a long distance.
We continued through the reserve and had an adventure crossing over a creek, awkwardly holding onto branches overour heads as the logs and branches in the water we stood on shifted. Close calls for some of us but we made it OK.
I was dang near desperate for water through most of the safari and couldn't wait to lay down. Great relaxation after we got back to the rooms. Laid down and slept right away -- in bits and pieces anyway. Took a shower and headed to check out of the place, then ate outside overlooking the pool and the reserve - great view!
Finally, cold water! Cold water! Yes! The first taste in what seemed like forever. Had everybody's favorite - Fanta Orange - and it was great, too. But the cold water was hands down better. ... Then a monkey showed up while we were waiting for our food. This thing just sauntered over and - all of a sudden - jumped onto our table and up the wall behind us. Shocked the mess out of folks. Ha-ha! It was after this big old Praying Mantis, which it happily munched on while perched above our heads on the wall.
We had to chase old boy away. Sucka was too aggressive. And we wasn't havin' it! ;-) Ha!
...
After eating some excellent food, we hit the road for Tamale. Tamale is the capital of the Northern Region of Ghana, with a population of 305,000. It is mostly populated by Dagomba people who speak Dagbani. They are followers of Islam.
Rough, rough, rough, rough roads again. Brutal. Was two hours or something like that of rough road. The bus swayed wildly at one point trying avoid huge potholes at a considerable speed (lol). But we made it to a paved highway! Yes! High-five?!

Day 10

Today, we went to the market in Kumasi. Wow! Tons of shops in small spaces, packed in. Food everywhere. Fish heads and all. Stuff I'd never seen before hanging up and stacked up all over the place.
Funny, though, I bought nothing at the market. It was kind of overwhelming and I had already spent so much money at the other shops. For some reason, I don't think anybody bought much there. Just soaked itall in. I think we may have been tired from the traveling and there was just so much there it was overwhelming.
So, it was on to the the Royal Mansion - the king and queen's home - a museum now. It was beautiful inside and out. An old aircraft in the gated yard off the street, an amazing, huge tree tucked over to the left, (photo at top) leading up the entrance of this ornate, white building.
Inside, there were 135-year-old drums,stools -- the real things -- wax figures of queens and kings, photos, including one of EthiopianEmperor Haile Selassie and other greats who have visited there.
Two other things which stand out are: 1. Our tour guide showed us the platform that the king and queens workers carried them on, including a special trip from Accra to Kumasi, which must have taken weeks or months. 2. One room showed the kings and queens, and the guide explained how the women chose the next king in Asante culture.
 At the end was a nice gift shop. Picked up a few things. lol And on the way out, these beautiful peacocks paraded around outside and folks scrambled to get the cameras out.On the way to the hotel, we stopped at a roadside strip of shops with loads of kente cloth. Lots of vendors calling you over, asking what you liked -- aggressive but still nice. There were so many choices, and keeping the money exchange rate clear in my head was a challenge when bargaining. lol And, oh, they do love to bargain, to go back and forth on the price. It's expected. Like it's almost insulting if you don't try to get them to bring the price down some. It's just the custom.
During all this, it started to pour rain, and I do mean pour rain down and you could get soaked going from shop to shop. These shops had little room if anyto go inside. And lots of folks crowded outside the shops with little room under the little roof to escape the rain.  I went from shop to shop hoping for the right pieces of kente cloth. Finally, I got some help finding and bargaining on two pieces -- one traditional and one non-traditional.
One thing is for sure -- striking to me -- is that there are a lot of churches and missions most everywhere we go. They seemto be the largest structuresin each town.  Even the police have their own church in one town!
We continued on the road to Accra.

Day 10: Part II

We arrived in Accra at night. The hotel was nice, up on a hill with a nice entrance, lobby with a television and a restaurant. Briefly met the owners, Richard and Joyce, who  were great. Nice folks who had Central New York ties at one point.
The next day, we were scheduled to visit the Cape Coast dungeon, one of the more historic focal points of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade -- the Maafa -- or Afrikan Holocaust. I went with Ellen, theartist and videographer extraordinaire, to check out the fort that night, before the group's scheduled visit the next day.
It was pitch black out, though, and the castle was hard to find. One young brotha with some "official'' paperwork in his hand insisted on following us. He waited a good while before springing his request for money on us. But we were pretty much spent out. Still, he kept walking alongside us as we pretended to know where we were going in the dead of night with hardly a soul around for blocks.
Finally, we lost him and shortly after that, gave up the search and turned around.
Getting back was crazy, though. We got lost, then got caught in rain so bad we had to stop and take cover under an store's roof overhang. We finally found our way back to the hotel. Funny thing is, though, in the next day's light, we realized we had stopped searching right at the mouth of the dungeon we were looking for. It was so dark there, though, you couldn't see a thing.

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Mighty Victory Hotel in Cape Coast, Ghana.

Day 11
I woke up to the sounds of a baby crying in the distance. Then, it was an older child crying louder. Finally, the sounds of a choir singing floated up the hill. Music. Sweet Ghanaian music!
It was a nice way to start a day that I knew would be a painful one at the Cape Coast Slave Castle.
Had a nice Spanish omelet with pineapple juice (so good and natural), with coffee. Talked more with Richard and Joyce before heading to the Cape Coast dungeon.
Getting your mind wrapped around the significance and gravity of this place is not easy. I first realized how huge the Europeans' plan was to capture, enslave, torture and transport so many of our people -- Afrikans who were mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, princes and princesses, leaders and workers -- the best and the brightest that helped provide the country's strength and future.
This is the major focal point of the world's worst atrocity. It led to the murder of as many as 100 million Afrikans, by some estimates.
All these thoughts were juxtaposed against this architecture, these white walls and the constantly roaring ocean that had such a contrasting beauty. But one look at the stack of cannonballs as we entered the deck level of the castle took my breath away. I'll never forget that feeling.
My heart paused. The Maafa was already real to me, but never quite as real as it was to stand in the very footsteps of such tremendous human tragedy. Our guides showed us the dungeon areas, the small rooms with no light that were packed to the brim with Afrikans who endured this day and night for weeks upon weeks until they were ready to be shipped like cargo to the Americas.

Jacque Kofi photos
The deck of the Cape Coast Castle, top, and the males' dungeon.

The guide showed us the tiny room where they stuffed the most rebellious Afrikans and left them there until they died - no light, no food, no water.
Needless to say it was unnerving to see some tourists pay so little respect on the tour, acting as if it was just another tourist attraction and not a crime scene on a level the world has never seen.
We stood next to the cannons aimed at the ghosts of ships in the ocean. Finally, we walked down a sloping corridor of rooms where the enslaved were kept. It led to the infamous "Door of No Return,'' which marked the last stretches of the homeland that these enslaved Afrikans would ever see.
Years ago, a group joined with the Ghanaian government to put up a "Door of Return'' sign on the other side to symbolically welcome back their descendants and signify Afrika's resilience.
Part of the fort was turned into a museum with good information on the slave trade and some on pre-colonial Afrikan history. Somewhere along the tour, on a wall, I saw a plaque with a quote from Pan-Afrikanist Marcus Garvey that I had to write down:
"No one knows when the hour of Africa's Redemption cometh. It is in the wind. It is coming. One day, like a storm, it will be here. When that day comes all Africa will stand together."



Day 12

Kokrobite Beach rests a short drive from Accra. We looked forward to this place the entire trip because A. It was the beach! and B. It would be the most luxurious stay of the trip for us spoiled transplants. lol
The road to Kokrobite (pronounced Koh-kroh-BEE-tay) seemed long, winding and eventually made of dirt. We couldn't really see the ocean with all the trees and vegetation. I couldn't even tell which direction it was in. Anyway, the best thing about Kokrobite was this little restaurant owned and operated by a family led by a woman and her daughters.
They even reminded me of family. As in direct relatives.

Calabash, just a little dirt road jog from the hotel, was the place to be in Kokrobite (banana pancakes, anyone?)

Folks chillin' on the cliff at Kokrobite Beach.

The food was the best. The hospitality was even better. Each night there, after dinner, they moved the tables, turned up the music and we danced. Pretty much everyone. The radio station played American R&B jams and Ghanaian jams, too. It was cool to see their dances and relate them to dances back home. The Funky Chicken, etc. lol

The beach was fun. We jumped the waves and let them push us into the shore like kids. But the water and waves were too rough to really swim in. At night, the ocean roared constantly. Loud. Sitting on the cliffs, talking, looking at the stars through the clouds and pondering life was cool.

But waiting for wet clothes to dry out was a lost cause. It was so humid that after days of sitting outside, the clothes were still wet. That's an especially bad thing when you've run out of clean clothes. lol With the thick leaves, it was hard for much sunlight to get through.

More to come later.

Black to the top

Black home

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