Saturday, December 18, 2021
Wednesday, December 15, 2021
This is the first in a series of dispatches from Africa, where John Fountain is a Fulbright Scholar in Ghana
By John W. Fountain
ACCRA, Ghana—My heart has crossed this ocean but there is no Vibranium here. No mythical supernatural people of coal to caramel skin.
I find here no sign of the fictional Hollywood African nation of Wakanda that spoke to that longing in the hearts of African Americans in the movie, “Black Panther” with visions of hope and serendipity. No utopia—Ghana. No grandiose illusions—pure Ghana, population 31.98 million.
And yet, there is something here.
Something there is—embodied in the bended emerald branches of coconut trees that speaks to me. Something about the way the white foam waves crash upon these ancestral shores on this side of the Atlantic Ocean in this Gold Coast nation, where W.E.B. DuBois lies buried. Something that soothes my Black soul, relieves my searing double consciousness like water extinguishing a flame.