Ama: A Story of the Atlantic Slave Trade

Photo Courtesy of africacentre.com

Hey All! As I might have shared in a previous post, I had the privilege of traveling to Ghana last summer thanks to a fellowship through my MBA program. I spent a month there, traveling the country, visiting historical sites, and working on a business project. All of it was amazing and life-changing. Who would've thought I'd get the chance to visit the Mother Land. I look forward to going back one day (sooner, rather than later, I hope). But while I was there, I visited the bookstore in the Accra Mall, and picked up this book. It's been sitting on my bookshelf for the last year, but I finally decided to pick it up and read it. I'm glad I did.

Ama is a story about the Atlantic slave trade that occurred between the 16th and 19th centuries, wherein Dutch, Portuguese, Spanish and British slave traders enslaved millions of Africans, transporting them from the west African coast to the US, Latin America and the Caribbean. In the new lands, the slaves were sold to a plantation owner, given a new name, forced to quickly learn a new language, and put to work for the rest of their lives (which were not very long, given the hard labor, lack of sleep, abuse, and poor nutrition).
Photo courtesy of africatoday.com
Ama focuses on the story of one girl's journey, from a free young woman in Ghana to a slave in Brazil. Her original captors are a adversarial group of Africans who invade her village while most of the people are away at a funeral (she stayed behind to watch her baby brother). As her captors sell her to different owners throughout the story, they re-name her as they see fit. Her birth name was Nandzi, then she becomes Ama, then Pamela, then One-Eye (you'll find out why in the book). Because she's sold to so many masters before even leaving the African continent, she learns several languages, and becomes a useful interpreter to her European enslavers. Although she finds favor in their eyes in this respect, she also clashes with many evil men, and is raped and beaten many times, as well.

A significant portion of the book is dedicated to her time at a Dutch slave castle on the coast of Ghana, where she becomes one of the Dutch men's concubine (she actually develops feelings for him). Reading this part reminded me of the Dutch slave castle in Elmina that I visited while I was in Ghana. The fortress is still standing and in decent condition, given it's age. It also still has an eerie feel: while standing in the slave dungeon last summer, I couldn't help but wonder if my own ancestors had stood on this very spot. I was the first person in my family to return to Africa since my ancestors had been stolen away. I felt like I had come full circle, and was coming back to Africa to pay my respects to those who had come before me. It was an emotional experience for me. One of my White classmates made a comment about how sad African history (specifically the slave trade) is, but after I thought about it for a bit, I felt proud. When you have the opportunity to look at the slaves' living conditions, and hear about their mistreatment first hand, you realize how strong, mentally and physically, someone had to be in order to endure and survive that. So many Africans died (or committed suicide, understandably) in the process, but I wouldn't be here had my ancestors not survived. How did they do it? Just to know that I come from a line of exceptionally powerful people is inspiring to me. If they can overcome that, imagine what I can accomplish in my own life today...

My photo collection: Elmina Slave Castle entrance, Ghana

 My Photo Collection: Elmina Slave Castle rooftop, Ghana

 My Photo Collection: Elmina Slave Castle entrance to male slave dungeon, Ghana

My Photo Collection: Elmina Slave Castle "The Door of No Return', Ghana

Do you read books about your ancestry? What makes you most proud? Have you read Ama? Although I bought it in Ghana, I see it is available here in the US, too.

Signing Off,
Nic

Booker's Place

Photo credit: blogs.suntimes.com

 

"Booker's Place: A Mississippi Story", is a 2012 follow up documentary to an NBC special that aired in 1965 entitled, "Mississippi: A Self-Portrait". The man who directed the 1965 documentary, Frank De Felitta is the father of the man who directed the follow up, Raymond De Felitta. The original film focused on interviews with White and Black residents of Mississippi, who talked about how they view relations with their counterparts of another color. While the Whites made comments like, "the negroes love living here", a Black man named Booker, a waiter at a Whites-only restaurant by day, and an entrepreneur who owned his own resturant (Booker's Place) by night, honestly shared his experience. His assessment seemed fair: some of his White customers were nice, some weren't, but he confessed that he took it all in with a smile, because this was something he had to endure in order to make money to pay for his daughters' education (I honestly got emotional when he said this. He shared that he basically had to sing and laugh and overlook insult in order to keep his job, all to make sure that his children had a bright future.  I guess alot of our grandparents had to do this). It was also notable how Booker put on his act when the camera man asked him to do his typical routine in which he sang the menu to customers. Essentially, he had to put on the mask of the stereotypical jolly Black man for his customers, but when he spoke in a regular tone to the interviewer, the viewer can tell that he was quite intelligent, with goals and aspirations like any other human being (clearly, since he was a business owner, himself). Other Blacks who took part in the film withheld their opinions on life in Mississippi, which was probably wise.

Imagine the uproar when the special aired on television, and the Whites in Greenwood, Mississippi saw good ole Booker complaining about the way some of his customers treated him.  It seems that they felt that he was making the town look bad, and so he became a target. He was attacked and his restaurant was ransacked. He survived all of the above until several years later, a Black man shot him. Did the town's powers that be pay this man to shoot Booker? Was it all a conspiracy? Or was it pure coicidence that someone had finally "taken care" of him?

While this is just one man's story, it definitely represents the experiences of many people during this era. What bothered me most is that this is a reminder that this kind of blatant racism and mistreatment occurred in a time not so long ago. What I liked best, though, was to see that his dream came true, post-mortem, in that both of his
daughters grew up to be educated and successful.

Photo Credit: blogs.indiewire.com

Are you interested in documentaries that take place in the civil rights era? Did you even know about the original documentary about Mississippi that aired in the 1960s?

Peace,
Nic

The Book of the Night Women

                                                                 Photo Credit: Notevenpast.org
"And if she [the negro] just come from the ship, more so be the difference. If the negro is a Igbo, sooner or later, she goin' kill herself. If she come from or born to an Angolan, then she goin' be lazy till her dying day. If she come come from or born to a Popo or Ibibio, then she goin' work hard and laugh and merry and thank God for massa. If she be Akan, her hand working as hard as her mind plotting. But the Lord help you if you get an Ashanti, what the White people call Coromantee. Not even massa whip can tame she."

The Book of the Night Women takes place in late 18th century, early 19th century Jamaica on a plantation, and centers on the story of a young, mulatto slave with blazing green eyes named Lilith. As Lilith's mother dies shortly after giving birth, Lilith is raised by an unrelated, uncaring slave woman ("Massa" is Lilith's father, so he's obviously not stepping in to care for her) until the head house slave, Homer, steps in and takes the girl under her wing. Lilith, hot-tempered and extremely stubborn (she has Ashanti blood running through her veins, after all), constantly clashes with Homer, but Homer doesn't give up on her.

While the book follows Lilith through her ups and downs on the plantation (her smart mouth and hard head get her in trouble more than a few times), the reader is also privy to a plan that Homer is leading for a slave revolt against their White oppressors. Homer, and the other women spear-heading the movement, are very powerful, as each of them dabble in Myal and Obeah (black magic), and even though Lilith is a thorn in their sides, they try to include her, because they recognize that same power within her. Lilith is torn about whether she wants to participate, as she knows what it feels like to murder others (I told you she's hot tempered). It also doesn't help that she's been carrying on a (somewhat) secret, romantic relationship with the plantation's Irish over-seer.

Kingston-born Marlon James, a literature and creative writing professor at Macalester College in St. Paul, Minnesota, is the book's author.

Photo Credit: slaverysite.com

 

While this book is not a quick read at 417 pages, it did paint a very clear picture of slavery in the Caribbean. The rapes, the murders, the maroons, the British plantation owners, the division between the fair skinned house slaves and dark skinned field slaves are all made real in this novel. It's also a bit dark, as black magic plays a huge role in the story. Given the fact that I love history, and my family is from Jamaica, I had to read this book. I think you should read it to.

Are you interested in slavery-era novels? Do you know of other good books that focus on slavery in the Caribbean?

Peace,

Nic

Death At An Early Age

“If poison were not spreading at this moment, I might agree with the people who say that Negroes ought to sit and wait a little, and let some of these things change at their own pace. But when time is destroying the present lives of your own children, I do not believe anyone should wait. No child in the ruined Fourth Grade at my school can ever have that terrible year returned to him (pg 84).”

 



                This is just one of the many powerful lines in the book Death At An Early Age, in which the author, Jonathan Kozol, serves as somewhat of an undercover agent-teacher at one of Boston’s  most over-crowded inner-city public schools in 1964. He details many disturbing scenarios that occur at a school in which White teachers were instructing a predominately Black student body. The reader encounters so many disturbing stories in this book that one rightfully wonders what chance the students have for productive futures. The real kicker is that these stories are true.

                From corporal punishment (although teachers weren’t supposed to be hitting the children), to calling the children “niggers”, to setting low expectations for their scholastic performance (and therefore teaching them to have low expectations of themselves), Kozol navigates the physical, emotional, and psychological consequences that these children suffer presently and those that they will most likely suffer into adulthood. Beyond poor treatment, the children are also relegated to attend a school that is in disrepair. Who can sit and pay attention in a school that doesn’t have enough books or classrooms and with a roof that leaks when it rains? (Actually, too many schools are still dealing with these issues today, less the blatant racism).

                Kozol published Death At An Early Age in 1967. He was born and raised in Boston, and this Harvard grad is best known for being a public education reform and civil rights advocate. Death At An Early Age was his first nonfiction book, garnering a National Book Award in Science, Philosophy and Religion.  He still participates in speaking engagements around the country to this day (my mother went to one of them a few years ago. I wish I could have attended with her).

                This book is both disturbing and enlightening.  To know that these things were happening in public schools around the country (because we know that this didn’t just happen in Boston) during my parents’ generation is uncomfortable, to say the least.  My father grew up in an inner city just a few hours south of Boston.  Did he face teachers like the ones in this book?  Did your parents or did you, yourself, deal with this?  What’s worse is that the mentality that these teachers pretty much forced on these kids, one of self-worthlessness, feeling unintelligent, and probably hating school, was most likely passed down to the children and grandchildren of many of these inner city students.  If you’re treated like you don’t matter at school, why would you want to go?  Why would you take it seriously? If you’re not learning what you’re supposed to be learning, because you have teachers who think you’re incapable, then what’s the point?  And how then, can you raise children to believe that education is the path to success? And what about your grandchildren? It becomes a generational cycle.

                Because I take education seriously, reading this book was kind of emotionally draining for me, but it was so worth it. It’s an important part of recent Black history (and inner city Latinos can probably relate too) that shouldn’t be swept under the rug, as we can see the devastating impact it’s still having on many inner city kids today. Let’s re-read this 45 year old book, and consider how far we’ve come, how far we haven’t, and what we need to change.

                Do you know about Jonathan Kozol?  Have you read the book?  What do you think about Death At An Early Age?

Signing Off,

Nic

Photo Credit: nybooks.com, and masterfile.com