Sankofa in Ghana: An American’s journey to reclaim her roots

By Skylar DeBose

Sankofa. An Akan word spoken within the walls of my home in Portland, Oregon. Sankofa. An Adinkra symbol that dangles from my father’s neck, among his collection of gold and beaded necklaces.

When traveling 7,454 miles away from home, I heard the word again: Sankofa. Yet now, I would become aware of its meaning—“to retrieve” or “go back and get it.”

Although I only recently learned the meaning of Sankofa, its principles have long been ingrained in me. My parents have always taught my sisters and me to remember our past and stay proud. The contents of our home are a constant reminder of this.

Autobiographies of some of the greatest Black civil rights leaders fill our shelves. Artwork representing Chicago, New York, and Mississippi the places my aunties, uncles, and cousins call home hangs from the walls. The verses of Nas, Kendrick Lamar, and MF DOOM, along with the soulful voices of Al Green, Stevie Wonder, and Minnie Riperton, blast from our kitchen speakers. Iconic portraits of Muhammad Ali, Serena Williams, and Michael Jordan—the Greatest(s) of All Time—remind three young Black girls that they can be anything and everything they want to be.

Whether I was aware of it or not, I was always following Sankofa, taking lessons, rhythms, creativity, and stories from my past and growing into the proud Black woman I am today. Throughout the past six weeks in Ghana, I have felt like the bird of Sankofa whose head is turned backward, retrieving the egg of its past.

It is the influence of the Adinkra symbol that brought me to Africa, to Ghana. Before arriving here on June 26, I had never been outside the U.S. When I revealed this to others, I was constantly asked, with shock, “Why Africa?” My answer was, as it turns out, Sankofa. I wanted to learn from my past and immerse myself in the place that my ancestors once called home.

Our weekend at Cape Coast was heavy and unforgettable. Visits to Elmina and Cape Coast Castles enclosed me in the horrific places where my ancestors were tortured before being sent along the treacherous transatlantic slave trade. As I stood in the darkness of the slave dungeons, my entire body sank. My chest felt heavy, and my throat choked. The white, pristine walls could not hide the unforgettable atrocities that took place within them. The celebrations in the following days stood in stark contrast to the disgust and anger that overtook my mind and body at the castles. As I walked away from them, free, I vowed to never forget.

Over the past five weeks, I have interned at The New Finder, under the parent company Zed Multimedia. After being welcomed at Zed with friendly smiles and greetings, I quickly found my footing. By week two, I had developed a routine. My days started with a 10-minute Bolt ride to work, where drivers would frequently ask where I was from, what my name means, if I’m religious, and why I wasn’t married.

When I arrived at Zed, I browsed the internet for top international stories. At noon, I would speak on 101.9 FM, sharing international news with our audience. In the afternoon, I transformed these stories into articles to be published in the next day’s paper. Never before had I spoken live on a radio station or completed multiple articles in a day. At the age of 20, I was getting the real-world journalism experience I had long dreamed of.

It was not just the journalism that made my experience at Zed special. It was the people, the food, the celebrations, the laughter, the singing, and the harmless debates in a language foreign to me.

Each day, I went to lunch with my coworker, spending two to five USD on a Ghanaian dish. I was repeatedly humbled as I mistakenly chewed Fufu instead of swallowing it or failed to eat rice with my hands. I quickly discovered my favorites and was eventually referred to as “Kenkey girl” by a coworker.

When reading articles from my favorite publications, I daydreamed about my future as a journalist for The New Yorker, The Atlantic, or Vanity Fair. I reflected on my past experiences at Zed that sent me down the path of my dreams.