I Feel Marred- Reflections Of Ghana Jeremiah 18:1–6

The Trip
 
This week, my wife and I traveled to Africa for the very first time. Not only did we go to Africa—we went to Ghana, the land where history records that nearly 70% of my ancestors were captured, marched for months, imprisoned in “slave dungeons,” sold, and shipped to the Americas. Ghana holds a deep significance for African Americans, as countless ancestors passed through these shores—never to return.
 
We visited the President Kwame Nkrumah Library, honoring the leader who freed Ghana and championed a unified Africa. His influence extended far beyond Ghana; world leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Nelson Mandela sat at his feet to learn from his wisdom and struggle for freedom, which shaped their leadership in their own nations.
 
We walked through several slave dungeons—castles where Africans were held for up to three months, crammed together with little food and no place to meet even basic human needs. The stench of thousands of bodies, mixed with centuries of human waste, fear, and death, still lingers there today.

At the “River of the Last Bath,” we prayed, we waded, and we reclaimed this place of confusion, hurt, and pain as a place of restoration and healing. This river was where my ancestors were washed after their grueling, months-long journey in chains—forced to march through the wilderness, hunted by animals, exhausted, and given little food or water—before being sold and packed onto ships bound for the Americas.

Our guide also introduced us to everyday life in Jamestown, where the people, though they had little, welcomed us with great hospitality. At the Art Center, artisans, crafters, and sellers from across Ghana displayed their work, trading with visitors from around the world.
 
As we traveled through cities and villages, I saw people who looked like my family, my neighbors, and the friends I left back home. Their entrepreneurial spirit was undeniable—trading, bargaining, and selling with persistence and pride. Some were wealthy, others had very little, but they lived in community and harmony.
 
I realized I had been lied to. I was told all Black people were lazy, unintelligent, and content to live off government assistance. While I already knew this was false in the U.S., Ghana proved it false beyond a doubt. I was told Africans hated me, wanted nothing to do with me. Instead, they embraced me. They welcomed me home with kindness, hospitality, and love. They taught me about Africa, Ghana, and the truth of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.

The Fra-Fra tribe of northern Ghana honored us with a formal naming ceremony. They named me “Kwabena.” This means being born on Tuesday and having the character of a problem solver. I feel blessed!   
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Our guide took us to meet his mother. When I admired our driver’s bracelet, he had two made for me. I watched a little girl pick up a piece of fruit that had fallen from a market table, and instead of keeping it, she reached up and placed it back. Yes, we saw some unpleasant realities—after all, we are talking about human beings. But what we did not see were “devils” trying to take advantage of us, as we had been told.
 
I Feel Marred
 
When I debrief with groups after an experience, I usually ask three questions: What did you see? What did you think? What did you feel?
 
As I asked our group, some expressed anger over the atrocity of the Atlantic Slave Trade. Others felt at peace in being surrounded by people who looked like them, no longer “standing out” as Black. Some made commitments to bring friends, family, and congregations back to experience the power of coming home.
 
I shared Jeremiah 18, where God tells the prophet to go down to the potter’s house. Jeremiah sees the potter working on the wheel when the clay becomes marred in his hands. I asked our group, “Could it be that God sent us to Africa—to Ghana—to be marred so He could make us over again?”
 
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “This experience should reshape our preaching, our ministry, and how we deal with trauma in our communities. But perhaps, more importantly, God wants to reshape us for His purpose and His glory.”
 
As Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 4:7: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”
 
I must confess: I feel marred.
 
One night, drummers and dancers from a local village came to our hotel to perform. They played with passion, their music filling the night sky, as if they were performing for royalty. Yet my mind drifted back to old lies I had been taught: “These are the sounds of savages. These are the movements of heathens. These are the songs of the uneducated.”
 
I felt marred. Why were those lies still inside me?
 
I come from a family that nurtured me to love who God made me. I grew up in a church tradition that taught me the Bible is rooted in Africa and that God loves all people. I am educated—three times over. I have studied Black people, the Black church, and African traditions that still shape the church today. And yet, in that moment, those lies still echoed in my mind.
 
But then, another voice spoke: “These are the sounds of your people. These are the dances of those loved by God. These are the songs of your ancestors, welcoming you home.”
 
I Am Grateful
 
I am deeply grateful to Dr. Efrem and Donecia Smith (Influential) for inviting me on this life-changing journey. Special thanks to Bishop Lance Davis and Sankofa US for their wisdom and hospitality. To World Vision "Chosen Initiative", under the leadership of Bishop Sherman Scott and Evangelist Summer Jackson—thank you for your incredible work in supporting African community development and trauma healing for African American pastors and their spouses.
 
Finally, I thank Bishop Craig and Lady Cleo Oliver, Second Presiding Bishop Designate of the Full Gospel Baptist Church Fellowship International, for their kindness and generosity in allowing me to serve.

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