[By Malcolm Durfee]

Content Warning: The following blog post discusses topics related to sexual assault.

It is tough to deal with the horrors and atrocities of man when you must view them in person, but it is essential to understand them, so we never repeat them. This is what came to mind when visiting the slave castles on the Cape Coast of Africa: the Elmina Castle and the Cape Coast Castle. I instantly felt this presence of immense suffering as I entered the castles. Even before hearing about all the details of the horror that happened there, I had this deep, pitted feeling in my stomach. The only thing I could compare it to was my tour through the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C., where I instantly could feel the horrors I was about to experience.

Our tour guide, Auto, first showed us the dungeons where they kept the enslaved women at Elmina Castle. It is sad that rooms initially designed to be filled with trading supplies were changed to fill human bodies instead. Auto explained that even today, these dungeons have the stench of centuries-old human excrement and blood on the walls and floors. While touring the dungeons, Auto suddenly closed the metal door on us and turned the light bulb above us off to show what it was like for those in the dungeons. I couldn’t even see my hands!

This was very shocking. It is horrifying that even a tiny glimpse of what they experienced was unbearable, making it mind-boggling that so many people had to suffer through this treatment. It made my eyes water as I realized this. It hurts me knowing this and that I can do nothing about it. I understand this is hard to read, but I feel like the best thing I can do is talk about these horrors so we make sure to never repeat them again.

Then he took us to this courtyard-like area outside the dungeons meant solely for women (pictured below).

He described that the Governor of the castle would have the women line up in this area, and he would choose which one he would rape. If they refused to go up, they were chained to a cannonball in this very courtyard and left there until they died or gave in. This was utterly unfathomable, and I was on the verge of tears again.

As we continued to walk through the dungeon, we saw the door of no return. This was the doorway where women would leave to be packed into slave ships. Before they reached this door, this was the one time that the women could see their husbands, sons, or brothers they were separated from for one final time. Yet they could only look at each other; there would be too much chaos to communicate.

That was another tricky thing to grasp. How the colonizers would not only physically humiliate these slaves and mentally torture them, but they would erase their identity and their connection to their families. They did not even care enough to try to record their names. Their identities absolutely meant nothing to them, which is so horrible. Once they left that door, they would lose their original name and be given a Christian one, and then they would never see their family again. Having their individuality completely erased from history.

Even as I write this, I am saddened by the fact that people have never had to experience that. I am horrified that humans found a way to commodify each other and try to destroy an entire culture. One of the people we went on this tour with, Tony, made a perfect point. Colonizers succeeded in changing the culture of Ghana. Ghana is now a Christian nation because of this influence. It’s upsetting how these colonizers made their god seem more potent than the ones the indigenous people of Africa worshipped. This influence made many fearful about continuing their religion.

When we toured the next Castle, I had this blind hope that it would even be slightly better than the other because it was designed to hold humans; however, in many ways, it was even worse. The fecal matter and blood still stained the floor of the dungeons where the slaves were held. Furthermore, the dungeons in which they put resistors were far worse. With no openings for light or air, they would throw rebellious slaves in there to die quickly.

All these horrors were unimaginable, and it was hard wrapping my head around how much privilege I had in this situation. Tai, another member from our cohort, pointed out how we got to spend our day at this fantastic and comfortable resort, yet during the mornings, we had to witness terrible atrocities that people had to suffer through. This juxtaposition reminded me that I must make the world more equal. Though it feels human nature to create injustices like this, I know I must do whatever I can to fight against it.