Going back to my roots...

This weekend was indeed a restful respite after the hectic throes of Friday. To cut a long story short as we would say in Jamaica (i.e. to get straight to the point) I was the unintended victim of what could be best described as 'road rage' - though I have a few other choice words I would prefer to use.

On my way to work after dropping my daughter at school when I saw two cars racing towards me - on my side of the road! Despite my swerving - and my swearing - both ended up in the left side of the vehicle I was driving. Suffice to say that entire side is a sorry mess. To hear them tell their side of the story - they were both involved in a hit and run further up the road. One driver was actually pursuing the other when they both came crashing into me.

For an accident that had happened at 7.40 a.m. I didn't finish with the paper work and all that until 2:00 p.m.! So much for my day that I had planned. During that time I:

• ferried police men between the stations - one station had not staionery to take the accident report on and no vehicles;
  
• ferried policemen to the scene of the accident - again no vehicles;
• went to the DVLA to get my vehicle tested;
• gave and wrote numerous statements.

Granted, though it did take a lot of time, I must say that everyone was quite helpful and polite - both at the police stations and the DVLA.

Decided that my weekend therefore had to be totally stress free and so spent the Saturday with friends just chatting and drinking - well mainly drinking. The chatter soon turned to Jamaica, Jamaicans and the links with Ghana and the wider African continent. Coincidentally, I had just finished reading a book entitled ' The History of Jamaica' and I was sharing some of the new things I had 'discovered' (more on that in a separate post). I was then given a chapter to read in another book entitled ' Survivors on the Gold Coast: The Basel Missionaries in Colonial Ghana' written by Peter Schweizer.

The book chronicles the arrival of the missionaries here in Ghana, including the Jamaicans who were sent over. Though I had referred to it on one of my previous posts, this was actually the first time I was able to read and see pictures and make some interesting links - at least by way of name - to both sides of my family, maternal and paternal.

It is interesting that the introduction of black missionaries were requested by the then King of Akuapem who said ' when God created the world, he made the Book for whiteman and Juju for blackman. If you can show us some blackman who can read whiteman's book, then we will surely follow you'. And so in 1842 two Basel missionaries were assigned to go to Jamaica to recruit christianised ex-slaves who could then support their efforts in the (then) Gold Coast. So in 1843 there arrived:

' six West Indian families and three bachelors, all of African descent. They comprised of 24 adults and children whose family names were Clerk, Greene, Hall, Hasford, Miller, Mullings, Rochester and Walker.'

The contracts they had provided them with hosuing and farmland and a grant for basic living expenses. In return they would assist the missionaries in their daily work. Ironic isn't it that the descendants of persons previously captured and taken from the Gold Coast, and transported to Jamaica under situations that could best be described as 'hellish' would be returning to assist in the 'saving of souls'? After the five year contract, many however prefreed to stay and settle in places like Akropong and Abetifi.

Topped off the weekend on Sunday night by then listening to a BBC report entitled Africans Abroad, which priarily featured a Ghanaian woman living in Jamaica and the similarities she found in language, food and culture. She also shared that when she decided to move to Jamaica to live with her husband, her father actually told her that her great grandmother had actually been captured by the slavers. It was only through the intervention of her grandmother's father (who seemed to have been a king) that she was saved. Her father found it ironic that a couple of generations later here was his daughter taking that same journey, but of course now of her own accord.

And so, I am supposed to meet some of those that settled here and that actually share my surname - cool uh? Am already itching to see if I can find the connections. Will also be going up to a missionary house in Akropong where a friend's great grandfather's dairy is kept. It actually gives the day to day account of the period and what the Jamaican missionaries went through. Needless to say I am already excited by the prospect.