By Dr. Khanyisile Litchfield-Tshabalala – Everyone left today after we concluded our meeting in Accra, Ghana. I stayed one-night extra because I wanted to go to El Mina. I hired a driver and went to El Mina, all alone. I have never sobbed so much.
The Arab Slave Market in Zanzibar and Gore in Senegal do not come close. All of these slave trade happened with the upper deck of El Mina being the first Anglican Church in Ghana, with the Catholic and Methodist Churches next door.
While down below were the slave cells – people kept in chains 24/7 In darkness. Two little stone holes in the upper wall of the dungeon for light and air. A furrow along the wall for urine and shit – While the urine flowed away (the stench remained obviously).
The shit stayed there till the slave drivers came in the day and forced the captives to wash it away with water.
There is a part today that you all walk through. You are told that you are walking on your ancestors’ shit and urine. The slave trade was such a boom that the amount of washed away shit formed into a dry crust on the ground, like emakhaya makusindwa ngobulongwe.
The captives were kept at Elmina for 3-6 weeks, during which time they did not bath or see the sun.
A female captive was only bathed when the governor, living luxuriously in the upper deck, with his living room and bedroom built to face the sea breeze, singled you out for an all-night rape.
And if she just lay there without ‘participating’ in the rape, she was whipped the following morning or isolated into solitary confinement – until death. If she repented and capitulated, meaning agreed to participating in the enjoyment of the rape, she would be released.
Male death cells were for rebellious slaves that fought back or were insolent towards the slave drivers or soldiers.
No light or air came into the death cells. Every Sunday the Governor and fellow whites would enjoy a church service directly above the male slave cell, as captives cried out for help for one reason or the other – could have been the death of one person, or someone would be dying, or critically sick from yellow fever or malaria…
And Jesus would be beaming upstairs.
This took the whole day, from 09:00 to 20:30! It’s only 142 km but it is only a two-lane traffic road, and there are trucks, tourists, funerals, etc…
I went there alone – we were just paired for the tour. In the phahla prayer I beseeched those spirits who are still not at rest because they died so angry and, in such pain, and inhumanity, to rest.
I apologized that as the continent, we have never avenged them or demanded justice for them.
EDITOR’S NOTE: The writer, Dr Khanyisile Litchfield-Tshabalala is Rear Admiral – JG Retired, and former South African member of parliament.