Cape Coast: Ancestral Return

We boarded the bus early that morning for the five-hour journey to Cape Coast. While the destination carried heavy weight, the ride itself was grounding. Through the windows, I watched Ghana unfold: people walking to and from church, women cooking meals, children moving through the streets, goats wandering freely, and vendors balancing trays on their heads as traffic flowed around them. It was beautiful, ordinary, and alive. A reminder that Africa is not frozen in history, but actively living and breathing.

Arriving at Cape Coast Castle shifted everything. Standing before its walls, it was impossible to reconcile the beauty of the coastline with the horror held inside. This was not just a tour; it was an ancestral experience.

Inside, we entered the male and female dungeons where enslaved Africans were held after having their heads shaved, bodies washed, and skin branded. They remained there anywhere from one day to three months, depending on whether they were deemed “weak” or “strong” enough to be shipped away. The original dungeon floors no longer exist. They were replaced after years of being layered with blood, sweat, tears, bodily fluids, and waste, compressed and baked by the sun. Standing there, we were quite literally standing on our ancestors’ DNA.

We also saw the cell where those who rebelled were chained together and left until every one of them died, their bodies later displayed as a warning to those still trapped below. Above these dungeons sat a church, where colonizers worshiped and preached about love while unimaginable suffering occurred directly beneath them, heaven and hell occupying the same space.

Then we stood at the Door of No Return: the final threshold our ancestors crossed before being forced onto ships. The last time they touched African soil. The last moment of home.

Despite the heaviness, there was beauty in remembrance and truth. In standing where my ancestors stood—not in chains, but in freedom. Afterward, we shared a meal at Coconut Grove Beach Resort, enjoying jollof rice with chili lime crème, salad, fries, fish, beef, chicken, and vegetable curry. Sitting by the ocean felt like a quiet act of restoration.

Cape Coast was not just a place I visited, but it was a reckoning, a return, and a reminder that our history lives within us.

Read about Day 3