Looking for the past in Akropong II

My parents migrated to the Gold Coast not
any outward advantage which they hoped to get, but from the true love they had for the Lord and also to witness the grace of God not only to the white man, but also to the Black Man. Their only prayer was that the eyes of the blacks whom they regarded as their brothers may be opened to see Jesus as Savior of the world.
Peter Hall
Pioneer Series:
Autobiography of Rev. Peter Hall

The librarian at the theological institute didn't seemed the least surprised by my question: ' Hi, I would like to browse the library to see what information I can find on the Jamaican missionaries who moved to Ghana. Could you possibly help me? I am actually from Jamaica and I realized that my mother's maiden name and my own surname are mentioned in the list of missionaries who came'.

Her ' ah' and her look of 'business as usual' told me that this wasn't the first request of this nature she had had. In fact while poking through the books and records - each time adding the to the pile that she had almost immediately placed before me - she informed me that quite recently another Jamaican from the UK had visited asking the same question. Coincidence - he did share my surname! She also told me that in Akropong itself ' just down the road' was a house of Mullings and a house of Halls, both families direct descendants of those missionaries that had come. The house I would perhaps be most interested in (i.e. the one that shares my surname) could be found in Osu.

The stack of literature in front of me was substantial - photocopies from old Presbyterian Church manuals and notes made by different missionaries, books written by historians and others, and even several thesis's done by scholars who had researched the history of religion, the Presbyterian Church in Ghana etc. Time not being on my side, I started to flip through the various records, keeping an eye out for references to Jamaicans missionaries. The bits and pieces gathered were quite interesting :

• The Basel Missionary had in fact decided that they would stop sending missionaries to the then Gold Coast. Their missionaries were dying and as one author noted, but for the 'Jamaican experiment' it seemed that the work in the Gold Coast was about to be abandoned. It was the idea of one of the missionaries, Andreas Riis, that this 'new faith venture' could be done with families from Jamaica, ushering in a new phase of mission work in the Gold Coast.
• Riis' idea was to 'establish a colony of English-speaking black Christians at Akropong. (He) proposed bringing some former black slaves, now liberated and converted to Christianity, from the West Indies to Akropong'. The Basel Committee hoped that the West Indians would lead by example and would be seen as 'a light and a pattern for the local people' ... 'a desirable spectacle of an ideal Christan community which would dispel the idea that Christianity may be a good religion for white men but not for black people'
• Interestingly, the missionaries sent from Jamaica were not Presbyterian themselves, but were rather Moravian Missionaries. A total of twenty four were ' enlisted' as colonists for Akropong.

And so began the return journey.

The West Indians included 12 married couples, 3 unmarried people and 8 children. They left Jamaican on February 7th, 1843 (some records say the 8th), landed at Christianburg* on April 16th, 1843. (*this is the same old slave Castle that now is the official residence and office of the head of state, i.e. the President). They travelled overland to Akropong and arrived on June 18, 1843.

The West Indians - I will try not to refer to them as solely Jamaicans as there was 'a man from Antigua' - actually had to sign an agreement, which in effect demanded:

• the form and workshop and discipline of the Moravian Church were to be maintained
• they would willingly perform every legitimate service for the mission in return for which they would be maintained by the society during the first two years
• soon after their arrival on the Gold Coast the society would give them land to build houses and make farms on and they would be allowed at least one day in a work to work therein
• as soon as they ceased to be supported by the society they would be at liberty to work for the Mission at cheap cost
• after a stay for five years they could return to Jamaica. If they desired to go the society would pay for the journey if during this time they had not been guilty if any moral offense

On arriving in Akropong the West Indian missionaries immediately started to work, as the houses they were promised were in disrepair. Interestingly, the literature also notes that they built the first stone buildings in the town and 'some of these buildings still stand today as a monument to their skills and workmanship'. The area where the Jamaicans settled became known as Hanover, an interesting link to the parish (aka region for my Ghanaian readers) that they came from in Jamaica. In another parallel of what they left behind, Hanover was described as a 'community lined with mango trees' - a must in many Jamaican communities even till today.

The Jamaicans, it is said, settled in and as one author noted ' trusted that Akwapem people'. Sadly however, the missionaries and their efforts were affected by political unrest in Akropong during the period 1839 to 1850. Some records indicate that ' by January 1845 some of the West Indian Christians had grown weary of the Christian experiment and wrote to the Basel to request repatriation but the mission refused' claiming that it was contrary to the agreement signed.

In 1848, some of the families opted to make their way back to Jamaica, leaving five of the original group behind. Those that stayed behind included Hall, Clerk, Rochester, Mellings* (* spellings for the various names differed amongst the literature consulted), and Miller. It was documented that: ' the mission took steps to secure framing land for the West Indian families that decided to stay. The mission purchased land near Adami for the Miller and the Hall families and at Adobesum on the road to Amanprobi for the Mullins and Rochester families. Land was secured for the Clerk family in Aburi at the place they call Jamaican today. These families planted tropical fruits they had brought from the West indies. It was the West Indians who introduced cocoyam, which became a staple in the country'.

My hand - which was by this time cramped from all the scribbling and the writing - coupled with the prick of conscience - yes, it does occur from time to time - that this was in fact not my main reason for being in Akropong signaled that it was time to leave - at least for now. Promised myself that this would be something to follow up on in the new year. My list of things to do growing with each thought:

• Check with my friend H., to see what he found while visiting Jamaica - he being Ghanaian had gone to trace the roots from the other end!
• Find the family house in Osu
• Write up the info gathered for my blog (done!)
• Find sometime to go back and read more
  

Packing up my notes and while still somewhat dazed by all I just read, I told the the librarian 'thank you' as I was about to walk out, only to hear her sternly say ' that will be GH 1 please'! Needless to say that was the best one ghana cedis I have ever spent!

Documents consulted: * forgive my poor attempt at a reference list - this is what one gets for scribbling on a million and one pieces of paper! Argh! Note to self: add to list of things to do - get list of proper references!

• An Outline history of the Presbyterian Church of the Gold Coast, Rev. E. A. Asamoa
• Texts and Documents: A Short History of the Basel Mission, Paul Jenkins, Basel Missionary No. 10, May 1989
• Pinoeers of Church and Education in Ghana: Danish Chaplains to Guinea 1661 - 1850 Hans Debrunner
• Presbyterian Church of Ghana Pastors Manual Rev. Dr. Sam Prempeh, B.A., M, Th, PhD.
• African Sacral Rule and the Christian Church: An Investigation into a Process of Change and Continuity in the Encounter between Christianity and African Traditions with particular reference to Cameroon and Ghana Pasacal Possouo, Phd Thesis 2003
  

Looking for the past in Akropong

It was my first time visiting a cemetery out of curiosity rather than compulsion. I really didn't intend to, but yes, curiosity won over and there I was.

I actually didn't start the day planning to go grave-hunting. On the contrary, it started ordinarily enough. Was working outside of Accra and visiting some schools in the Eastern Region and ended up at the Akropong Presbyterian Teacher Training College. On reaching the cooler climes of Aburi, already one could see the influence of the Presbyterian Church by way of the names of the schools - Presbyterian Senior High School, Ebeneezer Presbyterian, Presbyterian Teacher Training College - by way of some examples. All along the ridge there are beautiful old churches that seem to be guardians and sentinels of that time past.

Historically, the Basel Missionaries started the 'seeds' of Presbyterian Churches in Ghana and to link to a previous post they were also the group responsible for bringing over the Jamaican missionaries in 1843. It suddenly occurred to me that this was the perfect time to go information hunting on the topic.

After finishing the work I had set out to do at the Presbyterian Training College in Akropong, I started chatting with some of the teachers about the Jamaica-Ghana link and then so any things began to make a connection. They took me to an old cemetery on the grounds of the College, tucked away beside a beautiful old Church. They explained that many of the Missionaries that had started the Church and the Teacher Training College - including some descendants of the Jamaican families - had built the church and were in fact buried here.

I took some time out to wander among the graves, hoping to see and make some connection to my own family names, but alas, alas, time had eroded the grave stones, save one. Am sure with a bit more research and a bit more digging - for information, not literally! - I could find out if any of these were in fact descendants of those families that had returned to the then Gold Coast.

I popped into the Church, which was empty, quiet and cool. The stained glass windows providing a filter not just for the sunlight, but seemingly for everything else that seemed to be happening around me - both mentally and physically. Towards the end of each year, I always find myself reflective and this seemed to be the perfect place for that. I spent a couple minutes, reluctant to leave, but duty called and I had one more stop to make in this information hunt which was right next door at the Akrofi-Christaller Institute of Theology, Mission and Culture. If I needed to find more information on those Jamaican families their library was the perfect place to search. More on that in my next post - promise!

An aside: so the woes and wows (no didn't make that up, rather fell in love with it and borrowed the phrase from a book I am now reading, Wizard of the Crow by Ngugi wa Thiong'o) of 2008 are over. I find a new year a bit like opening a new book. There is the promise of a plot - hopefully not too dramatic, new characters to discover, or ifs a sequel old ones to be reacquainted with. One of course is never quite sure where the twists and turns will lead to, but at the end of it all, one hopes that it would have been satisfying. 2008 has been a good year - few regrets, some disappointments, but yes overall satisfactory. Here's to a New Year - all the best it has to offer to you and yours!

Christmas: A view from Ghana

Apart from the half-affected Christmas decorations in the malls, the seemingly ever present 'Christmas box' that have now taken on a permanent appearance at the counters of of shops - as well as at the guard house in the estate where I live! - the only other reminder of Christmas seems to be the millions of baskets lining either side of the Spintex Road where the basket weavers ply their trade. I am really not feeling Christmassy, and no am not a Scrooge, but yes, just remembered that it has been a long time since I have spent Christmas at home.

The downside about not living at home (i.e. Jamaica) is that you miss all the important events - birthdays, weddings, newborns and the holidays that bring the family together. Easter and Christmas are always the most difficult times, and though my view on Christmas is 'out of Ghana' it is decidedly going to be about what I miss most about Christmas in Jamaica.

Christmas breeze already in November there is a coolness in the air that us Jamaicans refer to as Christmas breeze. It actually gets quite cool and usually this seems to act as a confirmation that even though it won't be white, Christmas is just around the corner. On this side of the globe, the Harmattan commonly associated with this time of the year, is anything but cooling.

Another tell-tale sign is the house painting! For some reason - and I am not sure why - this is the time of the year when most houses receive a new coat of paint. New curtains are also a must in many houses. Still remember going shopping with my Mother for dining room curtains, living room curtains, bed room curtains, kitchen curtains, and just in case spare curtains.


Christmas cake in Jamaica is not to be joked about! Is a serious thing! Fruits are soaked from the year before, the aged marinade of rum and wine giving an additional kick to the already festive season. My mother's Christmas cakes are legendary and two weeks before the Day, the kitchen would be full of lined tins, mouthwatering batter and the smell of Christmas cake that was just unmistakable! To borrow a popular Ghanaian phrase you could hear the scent from a mile or two away. It would welcome you home in the evenings as you return from work/school leading you by the nostrils up the long winding drive-way long before you even entered the house itself. Have had my fruits soaking since last year -though nearly had to fire my househelp when I came home one day to see her just about to dash whey mi bokkle wid the fruits dem. Suffice to say she now gives the bottles a wide berth!

Linked to the cake baking is the licking of the spoon! Yes, forget salmonella - hmm, perhaps neutralized by the amount of rum - as children we would literally fight for who got the almost Olympian trophy to retreat and enjoy in a corner of the house while everyone else complained. Baking over, another test of patience was to see the cakes emerge from the oven knowing that it would not be cut until Christmas day. Two weeks of wetting the cake with a combination of red wine and rum - yes again! - and whetting your appetite because it just looked and smelled so good. As an adult, must admit that I still feel chuffed when I get the spoon - and yes, will compete with my daughter and nieces for it, and no, no apologies offered!

There are a couple of strange 'illness' associated with Christmas in our house, that should perhaps be defined as over indulgence or gluttony rather than an illness per se. One was 'pasam' best defined as the eating of hot baked products straight from the oven which was bound to result in a serious stomach ache. Another was 'colic' brought on by eating too much of everything and anything, and boy did we eat! Did get my first bout of colic the Christmas when I was about 11 - still remember being doubled up in my Grandmother's bed with her telling me 'it served me right' while soothing my by then distended gut with bay-rum.

Christmas time for us is not about presents, rather it is about presence. Relatives you haven't seen for most of the year will be certain to visit, including the ones you would prefer not to. Friends on their way to 'country' will stop by just to say hi and stay and lyme before continuing. It's that time of the year when you always cook extra because you know people will be coming over. Even those years when I have missed Christmas in Jamaica my Mother will call to say ' you know so and so stop by the house' - she, like me, is chuffed, that they still come by to say hi, and of course get a piece of 'the' cake.

Poinsettias! For a plant that is usually drab the rest of the year, around Christmas time they are blood-red. At this time of the year there are blood-red - from gardens to Christmas baskets and floral arrangements the poinsettias are a must!

Sorrel - for those of you who are Ghanaian bissap - is a traditional Christmas drink. Spiced with ginger, cloves and the ever present white rum - guaranteed to put hair on any one's chest! Argh!

Reggae Christmas Carols! I don't think I have ever been anywhere else and heard reggae Christmas carols but yes, they also make their appearance at this time of the year and there are many a Christmas party that have people skanking to the beats. You name the carol, will bet I can find the reggae version to it in a jiffy. After all this is Reggae Country! The name of the album cover to the left just about sums up the feeling of Christmas when it comes to music ' Natty and Nice'! Parties of course are the highlight of the agenda during this season.

And then there was the Pantomime - this always opened in December and was guaranteed to be full of music, animated acting and tons of laughter. Dating back over 40 years, this production attracted church trips, school trips and everything else in between. Hmm, this year's production is entitled 'Runner Boy' and is about Marcus who lives in the town of Yam Hill. He is chosen to represent his village - and his country - at the Big Lympics. Marcus of course wins and the villagers and the country celebrates along with him. Rings a bell? Am sure it does!

There is one thing that does keep the link though, and it's the appearance of Jonkunno on the streets of Kingston and elsewhere. Though not as popular as it was when I was younger, or when my Mother was a child, it is still an event associated with Christmas. Common figures like Pitchy-Patchy and Horse Head were guarantees for a nightmare be you young or even some of the old. Other figures would include Koo-koo or Actor Boy, Jack-in-the-Green, House Jonkunno, Police Man, Belly Woman and others. You can just imagine my amazement and amusement the first time I saw them in Accra! Found an interesting piece put together by the Jamaica Cultural Development Commission on Jonkunnos for those interested in reading more.

I could go on and on but yes, beginning to feel so sentimental! Must be a sign of old age! There it is - my view out of Ghana of Christmas in Jamaica. Must confess that while writing this I went started to search for the cheapest tickets home. Alas, alas cheap seems to be out of the question, And while I am sure Ashes and I will have a good holidays, can't help thinking it would have been so much better to have Christmas in Ja.

Picture credits

• Christmas Cake - Everything Jamaican
  
• Natty Christmas - http://www.mistletunes.com/reggae.html
• Jonkunno - the Jamaica Gleaner

For more on the Jamaican Pantomime see the Little Theatre Movement

We likkle but we tallawah...

Went to Takoradi in the Central Region this weekend for a training workshop and saw this sign - of course had to take a picture! The sign made me wonder of course - was this something started by a Jamaican? If no, what was the affiliation to Jamaica and why? Pity they didn't have a contact number, would have been sure to call and find out. An interesting story waiting to be told I am sure.

Flashes of Jamaica are everywhere you can imagine, from the flags on the taxis and the back of tro-tros to other random signs that you will see along the road. These flashes extend to music as well from the ragga influences on hip-life to the Bob Marley renditions given by live bands. The patois speaking Ghanaian dreads at La Beach (and elsewhere) provide another insight as to the extent of that influence - at least on a particular part of the society. Most Ghanaian men who studied or lived in London for any extended period of time, will proudly tell you that they dated a Jamaican girl and proceed to relate to you the ins and outs of Jamaican cuisine (rice and peas being a favorite) and life style plus the stubbornness of Jamaican women! That needs a post in itself to say the least!

I always feel chuffed to be recognized as Jamaican. It is always a pleasant surprise to see how positively people react and how much people want to know. Have never been asked so many questions about my dreads, if I am related to Bob Marley (also because of my dreads), if most Jamaicans wear dreads plus numerous questions above movies like 'Dancehall Queen' or 'Third World Cop' that people assume gives an accurate reflection of Jamaican daily life.

It doesn't only happen in Ghana, but basically anywhere on the continent! I remember going to Nairobi once and the immigration officer asked how long I would be staying for. When I told him a week, the man protested and said no, I am Jamaican and therefore I need to stay for longer, after all ' Jamaicans are their brothers' and proceeded to give me two months! My other colleague who I was traveling with - and no I won't say where he is from - got the exact time his ticket was valid for!

One of the funniest incidents was being asked by a Ghanaian taxi guy if I knew 'Strench Town' in Jamaica. At a loss as to what and where was 'Strench Town' the guy patiently explained "you don't know the place that Bob Marley sing about in his song lady?". Finally the 'a-ha' moment came - he was referring to Trench Town! Lost in translation? I wonder.

Feels good to be a part of the positive reinforcement of one's country and to know that persons still very much appreciate Jamaica for the good things and not just know about us for the negative ones. As we would say in Jamaica, we little but we tallawah (aka sturdy, strong, not to be underestimated; tough, stubborn)* - fi true!

* definition from dictionary of Jamaican English

The Jamaican - Sierra Leonian Connections

Just dragged myself out of bed to do some work and thought I should post a quick note. Have just started to read a book called ‘Middle Passages: African American Journeys to Africa 1787 – 2005’ written by James Campbell. Ok, so I am not African American but wanted to read other accounts and reflection on slavery.

Some interesting discoveries through my readings so far. Of the estimated fifteen million men, women and children that were shipped to the ‘New World’, few managed to return. I wonder how many Jamaicans know that in 1800, the British had re-located approximately 500 Jamaican Maroons to Sierra Leone. Apparently in the aftermath of the rebellions in Jamaica, ‘they had persuaded to lay down their arms in exchange of amnesty and continued independence’. The usual trickeries prevailed and instead they were betrayed, chained and shipped to Sierra Leone where they then went on to help the British suppress the rebellion against the Nova Scotians. Fascinating. Wonder how many of the connections remain.

It was also interesting to read just how much of a vested interest the African tribes that acted as the main ‘suppliers’ had in keeping the trade going. Now reading about the initial back to Africa push by the newly freed slaves in the US, and just how much support – for the wrong reasons – there was for this. Must get back to the bread and butter of living though, so will really make this a short one.

P.S. There was the most horrible accident about a week and a half ago, where forty people died in a seven car pile up. Have now opened - or should I say re-opened - discussions and debates about the general state of safety on the road. The victims were from eleven West African countries. A real tragedy.

Returning Home...

Haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks and this morning I just felt the itch to write again. Think it was also triggered by Sas mentioning in between the beers that she hadn't read my blog in nearly two weeks and wanted to know what was new. Funny how personally rewarding it can be, even though I am not sure who reads - apart from my faithful brother in Trinidad that is!

Took some time off to go to Elimina for the long Easter weekend with Ashes and some friends – now work, no e-mails, not even cell phone! Was a good time to catch up with me and just relax. Alas, alas though all good things must come to an end and now I am back at home. Funny how easy Accra/Ghana has become home. Not sure if it is where my heart is, but for now it will do.

The idea of 'being home' is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. Both in terms of going back to Jamaica, but also being here in Ghana. Visiting Cape Coast or Elimina always fills me with mixed emotions, especially when I see the old slave forts. It reawakens my sense of returning home. Hard to explain, but it’s that feeling of belonging, of roots, of being connected. There are few places that leaves me feeling restless but I must confess though that for some strange reason this stretch of coastline that is lapped by the waves from the Bight of Benin/Gulf of Guinea always leaves me feeling like that. Here the waves seem to pound the shore relentlessly without ceasing. I often wonder what my fore parents must have thought when confronted with the view and sound of the sea for the first time. It must have been frightening to say the least.

When my Mom visited we went to Assin Manso, an old slave market about 50 km from Cape Coast Castle. Here the slaves were bathed and cleaned before continuing their forced walk down to the coast. With slaves being taken from as far away as Nigeria and Niger one wonders how many died before making this stop. The river here is aptly known as “Donko Nsuo”, or Slave River. In the Akan language, "donko" means slave and "nsuo" means water. Therefore Donko Nsuo literally means "Slave Water" hence the Slave River. Sadly though, there is not much documentation on the numbers of slaves who had died here. The community along with development partners has done quite some work in developing a museum (not open when we got there, the caretaker was gone to Accra!). We walked down to the river where the slaves were bathed and cleaned before continuing the journey on foot to the Castle. It felt almost eerie to wash my hands in the river. The local villagers say the water in the river looks red because of the blood of so many slaves that had died or been killed here. Those who were too weak to continue were murdered and buried on the banks of the river.


I am in no way sentimental about issues dealing with slavery - or rather I try not to be. But there are so many things that confronts me - language, food, culture, even the ring games of children that echo the words I used to chant in primary school back in Jamaica. So I guess it's true, I must have returned home in some sense. I have started making a list of Ga, Akan and Twi words that are used in the same manner that they are used in Jamaica. Fascinating to say the least - note to self, topic for another blog.