My Ancestors' Hands: My Return to Cameroon in 2010 to My Igbo and Bamileke People

My Return to Cameroon in 2010 to

My Igbo and Bamileke People

I DNA tested my Maternal line with African Ancestry in 2008. I found that that 1% of my DNA was Bamileke of Cameroon. This is on my mother's side of the family. I retired from the military and traveled to Cameroon on December 12th, 2010. On the 26th of December, I met with a group of fellow Cameroonian-Americans (Camericans), that found our ancestry through DNA testing. It was an experience that I will never forget.

I initially spent 2 amazing weeks with my Igbo family. There is a huge population of Igbo people in Cameroon that have always been there, even before the Berlin Conference carved up Africa the way they did. My Igbo side of the family is something that I was drawn to long before DNA testing. I was treated as a royal. My Bamileke father traveled to my location and received me into his family. I am Nzumafo. Queen Mother and I ma honored. I also received 2 Atoghu Royal attires for myself and my mother and another attire for my elder brother. I was given the assignment to go and bring more people to the knowledge of their ancestry. I was doing this all along but THIS assignment meant , DON"T STOP ! So it added grease to my elbows.

I recorded everything that I could and after two weeks, a group of other DNA tested African Americans and their family and friends arrived in Cameroon. We met them at the airport. From there , we began to tour Cameroon. One of the most memorable moments that I experienced was going to Bimbia, Cameroon located on the west coast of Africa. It was where our ancestors were enslaved and stolen to be sold off as if they were animals. Bimbia is not very well known because history has attempted to forget. Thanks to Dr. Lisa Aubrey and her team of researchers in the United Sates, they found this place called Bimbia. So we had to go there. We had to see it for ourselves.

After riding uphill for an extended period of time by bus, we disembarked and had to continue our journey in several 4 wheel drive vehicles. It was because the terrain was too difficult and the hill was too steep for the buses to climb. Some people were not clear of our destiny and they began to walk.

We rode for an additional excessive amount of time. I video taped the trek, thinking that it was not going to be very far. Then I began to feel a sickening feeling in my stomach. In my mind's eye, I saw flashes of our ancestors, captured, chained, many wounded or pregnant. They were walking this long distance after not being properly fed. I tried to shake it off and continue to record. The vehicles began to rock almost violently as we passed the steep turns that led off of a ridge to sudden death. I thought, hold it together. They did it, so can I. Keep your head up: make them proud.

We finally stopped at the top of a clearing. We disembarked the vehicles while instructions were given that it was just beyond the bamboo ahead. We started walking. I wanted to record the journey but my batteries were getting low so I decided to take snap shots of some and short videos of other things that I saw.

As the sweat rolled from my brow and my red dashiki began to slightly stick to my body, that sickening feeling returned. We walked through very thick patches of bamboo that grew from the ground almost majestically. I thought as my breathing started to fluctuate in an erratic manner, focus.... It can't be that much farther. We came to a bamboo bridge. As we walked across, I thought, I KNOW we are there now. But still, we walked further.


The Bamboo Trail

Then there was another clearing just ahead. I heard people singing joyful songs. I thought, oh, they are going to perform again. But I never saw the faces that matched those harmonious voices. Instead, I began to hear moaning and crying. I shook it off and said, its my mind. My oxygen has been depleted because of the altitude and I am imagining this.


Inside the holding area

I walked up to the ruins of a building which was explained to us to be the holding areas where our ancestors were chained and packed like sardines until those horrible people came. As the tears are still flowing, I thought, I owe it to my ancestors to continue. I took a step into the building and everything turned black, the cameras disappeared, the people, the voices were gone. It was me standing in my red dashiki, in the middle of a holding place of my people. No one was there but me and the men and women that were chained to the posts. The looks on their faces were so real and they were, it was a reenactment of what happened to our people. Cameras were flashing and people continued to talk. Even though I could begin to see them clearly, everything was muted to me.

I couldn't breathe but something in me said, hold your words and look.

"See what they did to us. See how they treated us. They tried to take everything from us but you, you Naja, YOU NAJA, fought back. We spoke the words into your heart when you were a child to go and train to be a warrior so you could be strong enough that when this time came, you would be able to take it all in because there is something you must do. Everything that they taught you was a lie. The enemy did this to oppress you and for their own personal gain. Stand on your square and prove them to be liars. Never back down. Show the world the beauty of this place and cancel everything that the enemy had planned for it. This land is NOT cursed. It is a blessing. Learn and share what you learned. Break the cycle of their minds and their bodies will follow. Break the Chains.."

I stood in amazement with my hand over my mouth, just staring at the captives. I could not believe what I was experiencing. I was getting ready to cry the loudest cry of my life. But at that very moment, I felt a hand touch my shoulder. It pulled me back to this reality. And I heard the word "Courage". It gave me the opportunity to regroup.

We eventually made it to the waters. I went and stood on the rocky banks. I looked just beyond the water and I saw what I believed to be a man near a fishing boat on the beach. He waved at me. I began to wave back and stopped. Everything about his silhouette was that of my father. Again, one of those moments. My father is with the ancestors now so I looked away and when I turned to look back, no one was there. I smiled. I knew at that point that my dad made it home and he was happy.

Nichol Island where Our ancestors were taken and held to meet the large ships

While in Cameroon, I received my name and title of Nzu Mafo. It means wise queen mother, adviser to the King. I was given the responsibility as an ambassador to help more people to learn about their ancestry. I was also given land, honorary citizenship in the town of Kribi II and so many memories....

I came back to America with a fire in me to help others more...not the way that I did since 2000...but more, somehow. So I thought....DNA testing...but add more genealogy.. I wanted to help people to meet their FAMILIES, their own cousins...Give them their names and voices back. Allow the ancestors to speak louder through them. Who would have thought that DNA testing companies like 23andme.com would come along. Well it did! And the new story began..

Now that I am back home on behalf of my maternal family, I am able to move on. This wasn't the end. It was the beginning. It was then, when I was ready to leave that place, I understood my vision of freedom......


On the banks of Bimbia

Watch a video clip below of the return

Updated details

In 2010, we went to Bimbia, Cameroon. . It was the area where Africans were held in chains until smalls canoes came from Nichols Island and took them. From there, they were placed on the huge ships. ~~~~ Since then Dr. Aubrey told me they found bones of what could have been enslaved Africans and not just villagers. I was recently told that the area has become a major archaeological location with lots of research going on. ~~ The trek alone, to that place was long .. One can ONLY imagine what they went through to get there as captives... ~~ Also, See this info here.

~~~ "Bimbia was the first place the Jamaican and English Baptist missionaries led by Rev. Alfred Saker set foot on the Cameroon shore in 1858, from Fernando Po. There he built the first school and first church. Later he went to Victoria where he built the Ebenezer Baptist church. The Bimbia man was the first person to go to Saker’s school . "

Source: http://www.cameroonweb.com/CameroonHomePage/NewsArchive/Bimbia-Slave-trade-village-The-door-of-no-return-324579

This Ancestral Journey has ONLY just begun. Watch below as I wear my Royal Cameroonian Atoghu attire and present other DNA tested African Descendants to the Igbo Royals to receive their Igbo names. This was in 2015 in Staunton, Virginia. The Royals traveled from Africa and around the world to reconnect with us. We are NOT alone anymore.