💖Travel Essay: Glorious Ghana

**“In Everlasting Memory” Commemorative Plaque**
**Cape Coast Castle**, **Ghana**

Glorious Ghana

The road out of Accra to Cape Coast is full of bumper to bumper traffic with a perimeter lined with numerous billboards. The people sell goods from various small make-shift stands next to modern buildings. Some approach the stalled vehicles to eagerly sell their wares. As the toll booth attendant is paid, women in colorful garments can be seen balancing items to sell upon their crowns. The car moves further from the bustling city into a more rural area with views of fertile land, smaller buildings, and goats. Ghana is a part of the global south or a developing nation (the former term: third world country is considered offensive). This is a trip that I have wanted to take for some time, to see this land and the Cape Coast Castle with my own eyes.

*“As the toll booth attendant is paid, women in colorful garments can be seen balancing items to sell upon their crowns.”*

This is a short-stay vacation of 5 days that fits my current schedule and I’d rather go now, than wait until the distant future. The vacation is also a birthday gift to myself. The preparation for this trip included: a mandatory yellow fever vaccination, covid testing prior to departure and after arrival at the destination, and the optional malaria prophylaxis. There are three malaria prevention drugs: Malarone, Mefloquine, and Doxycycline. My healthcare provider prescribes doxycycline to be taken three days prior to the trip, for the duration of the vacation, and one month thereafter. My bags are packed and the 18+ hours journey to Accra, Ghana awaits me.

*Best Western Premier Airport Hotel*
*Outside Courtyard*
*Accra, Ghana*

My arrival in Accra is met with English being widely spoken (but Twi can also be heard), friendly Ghanaians, and a powerful heat that beats down from the sun. I am from the American Deep South, so no stranger to high temperatures. But I find myself sweating profusely, while most of the Ghanaians don’t even break a sweat. I feel quite foreign in this moment. This sentiment quickly fades as my eagerness to learn more about this land and her people consumes me. I have arrived as a twenty-times great granddaughter of those enslaved ancestors, who in all probability, passed through the Cape Coast Castle. My hotel and tours were booked through Expedia for reasonable rates. And I had excellent tour guides (Big Ben Tours & Pro Tour Africa) that were very knowledgeable and answered all my questions. I even watched a couple of television shows on the family channel.

While in the backseat of the car, I settle in for the 4-5 hour drive one-way to the Cape Coast. The driver is very skilled at navigating the traffic, people, and motorcycles in this busy city. Just as most of my previous drivers. These Ghanaians have mad skills behind the wheel! We arrive to the Cape Coast and stop briefly at a sea-side restaurant. I absorb more of the glory of Ghana. From her bustling city to the easiness of her sea-side town. Soon, we arrive at the Cape Coast Castle, where so many enslaved Africans of different ethnicities and languages were dehumanized as a commodity for international sale. The tour guide explains the dungeons, the Door of No Return, governor’s quarters, and the cells for those identified as rebellious, who were left to starve to death. A somber experience for this descendant, twenty generations later. But a pilgrimage much needed as well.

*Cape Coast Castle Greeting to Visitors*
*“Akwaaba” means Welcome* *in the Akan language*

The last stop on this tour is the Assin Manso Slave Camp. The tour guide removes his shoes in respect to the ancestors who traveled this path to the last bath before their sale. Those who were deemed sick or weak were murdered at the site. The sun beats down as I walk this ancestral path. Suddenly, it begins to rain and a cool breeze swirls around us. The guide asks if we want to stop the tour, but I reply the desire to continue. By the time we reach the site of the Last Bath, there’s a very cold wind with rain beating down hard upon us. The river below moves quickly as the guide explains what happened at the site. As we leave, I feel as though a thousand tears from heaven fell upon me and those celestial ancestors exclaim: “Akwaaba, granddaughter. You have returned!” My reply: “And I will again.”

*Disclaimer: Sankofa Newsletter does not provide medical advice or treatment. Article is for informational purposes only. Consult your physician/health care provider for any questions or concerns.