a different side of Ghana

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.

As we traveled back toward the coast and then on to the Accra, the capitol, we moved from jungle village poverty to coastal urban squalor. The slums have a different vibe than the village. The village is poor and disease-ridden, but has a sense of community, kinship, and mutual support that appeared lacking in the city. The villagers face a hard life with brave, friendly smiles; the slum-dwellers with tense, angry scowls.

Thursday morning we visited Cape Coast Castle, the great slave dungeon. Up on the walls, canons face the sea to combat naval bombardments, so Europeans could enjoy the privilege of killing each other over the right to sell human flesh to the Americas. Below are the cells where the slaves were packed in for six months at a time standing in their own excrement. Millions were captured and sold, and millions of those died in the process. I like to quip that this place is “Satan’s Cathedral,” a towering monument to contemptuous pride and disdain for compassion. A reminder as to why we offer ourselves in the continuing battle for justice and mercy.