Inheriting the Trade by Thomas Norman DeWolf

Author:Thomas Norman DeWolf [DeWolf, Thomas Norman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8070-7292-9
Publisher: Beacon Press
Published: 2008-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

GYE NYAME

The next morning we drive to a wildlife preserve featuring a tree canopy walk. Ninety minutes after leaving our hotel, we park at Kakum Rainforest Park. The peaceful, lush jungle offers a stark contrast to the harsh and cluttered city, and is a refreshing change of pace.

Led by a guide, we begin our hike. The lizards are larger and more numerous than at our hotel. We walk along a path of flat rocks and steps embedded in the hard dirt; the foliage is rich and thick. The smell of the forest, the soil, is so alive compared to everywhere else we’ve been in Ghana. We slowly ascend a steep incline.

We stop by a gigantic tree where our guide, Roxan, introduces himself. He tells us that he’s also called by the common name of Yaw, because he’s Thursday-born, and explains that Ghanaians, specifically the Akan people, name according to the day of one’s birth. “When born on Monday if you are male, they call you Kwadwo; if female they call you Adjua. Tuesday males are Kwabena …”

After he tells us all the names, Katrina asks him to repeat Monday’s names.

“When born on Monday, male they call you Kwadwo, female Adjua.”

Katrina explains that we’re here because our ancestors were involved in the triangle slave trade, and that one of the slaves brought to Rhode Island was named Adjua.

“That means she was born on Monday,” confirms Roxan.

I stare at Roxan, taken aback by his words. I’ve read Adjua’s name in Mount Hope, the book about Bristol and the DeWolfs written by Elly’s grandfather, listened to the nursery rhyme about her and Pauledore, and stood before her grave, a few steps from that of the man who presented her as a Christmas gift to his wife. Roxan’s words remind me of Adjua’s humanity and her circumstances. She was a young girl who lived here with her family and was raised in the culture of her community before being kidnapped. Roxan’s matter-of-fact response also drives home the fact that Adjua was just one of millions stolen from this continent. The ache I feel from this evil commerce in human flesh continues to grow deeper and more personal.

Roxan smiles, turns, and leads us further up the trail.

He describes the different animals that live in the preserve, including elephants and bongos—the largest species of antelope. There are duikers, leopards, and monkeys. He makes no promises that we’ll see them because they are most active at night. He explains the wide varieties of tree and plant species.

We soon arrive at the first platform at the beginning of the canopy walk, which juts out over a steep drop in the terrain below our feet. From here, we’ll cross a series of seven rope bridges—metal ladders tied together, with two-by-twelves laid between the rails, secured inside nets held up by thick horizontal ropes that serve as handholds to protect us from falling. The ropes are tied off to platforms, like tree houses, in several giant trees. The distance from the walkway to the ground increases the further out we walk.

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