I was asked to say more about the Slavery
Museum. They would not let us take
pictures inside. The first room was a life-size replica of the holding
conditions in which the slaves were stored in, on the ships crossing the
Atlantic. They were feet first, head first, feet first laying in wooden cages so they
could not sit-up, bring their hands to their face or easily talk to each other.
They were on ships between 3-6 months. The food was thrown on them and they had
to eat what they could reach with their mouth. Then they were washed with sea
water. We saw some of the chains, shackles, and face masks that had actually
been used. The face masks were used on slaves working with food so they could
not eat what they were working with. This included working in the crops.
Usually at museums you talk about the
exhibits with others you are with and walk through on your own so you can study
what you are seeing. The atmosphere in
this museum was very different. We
hardly spoke a word and didn’t stay long at each exhibit. It was not a good feeling thinking about how
we were Caucasians, from the US, hearing and seeing what our forefathers had been
a part of. The electricity went out several times in the building and our guide had to leave us
to restart the generator. We stood in total darkness each time. The images and
displays felt like we were in a carnival house of horror. Many of the displays
were life-size replicas with recorded voices and sounds. The screams from people being tortured echoed
throughout the museum.
We exited the building with a sick feeling
in the pit of our stomachs. Although, we
both knew a fair amount about the slavery trade it didn’t feel personal to us
until now. After seeing some of the
actual artifacts and realizing we live in a region where everyone we see is probably
related to the men and women who lived during this time period, it just gives
you an unsettling feeling. Our friends
and neighbors are the descendents of the lucky few who were not rounded up like
cattle. We even saw some of the branding
irons which were used to identify the people who were captured for the slave
trade.
This went on through many generations
of people before this practice was stopped.
But the nightmare of the people who were already enslaved continued for
many more generations. At the end of our
tour, we were shown pictures of the men who helped end the slave trade. Clint paid for our admission to the museum so
I paid the tour guide for his time and we left but the images are still in my
memory.
These horrific events will forever be a part of who these people are now, here in Calabar. The museum stands on the location where the ships sailed from with their loved ones aboard. It reminds me a little of Alaska. The people in the village of Barrow were also forever changed by the Caucasians who forced their way into their lives and ultimately changed their lives forever too. They also watched their loved ones taken away, as children were rounded up and shipped off to boarding schools far away. These children were forced to feel shame for being Inupiaq and made to dress, speak and act like a race of people they grew to hate. I know it isn't the same but it isn't a lot better either.
I am amazed by the fact that I was even welcomed to teach in either Barrow or Calabar. Our God is a forgiving God who loves all of us and His love and forgiveness has reached many people's hearts for good. All I can do is show my genuine love for these children God has given me to work with and pray it makes a positive impact on them to continue the healing of these communities.
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