{"id":102856,"date":"2020-05-15T01:39:24","date_gmt":"2020-05-15T01:39:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/?p=102856"},"modified":"2025-05-14T10:32:21","modified_gmt":"2025-05-14T14:32:21","slug":"homegoing-reflections-on-the-book-and-my-own-journey","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/en\/homegoing-reflections-on-the-book-and-my-own-journey\/","title":{"rendered":"Homegoing: Reflections on the book and my own journey"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong><em>Journey to Naija: The Prelude<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">I wrapped up Yaa Gyasi\u2019s \u201cHomegoing\u201d a few days ago. Timely, since in a couple days I will be embarking on a homegoing journey of my own, and&#8230; I have so. Many. Thoughts.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">I actually purchased the book close to a year ago, and I\u2019ve picked it up and put it down several times since then because honestly&#8230; it<img decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-104636 alignright\" src=\"https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article4.jpg\" alt=\"Couverture du livre Homegoing\" width=\"327\" height=\"500\" srcset=\"https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article4-196x300.jpg 196w, https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article4-200x306.jpg 200w, https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article4.jpg 327w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 327px) 100vw, 327px\" \/> overwhelmed me. From the first pages I could see that this was the story my soul needed, a detailed relational tapestry connecting the global Black community in a way I haven\u2019t seen presented within a piece of work before.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">It highlights the major forces that have shaped both Black America and post-colonial Africa as we understand them today, as historical fiction usually does. However, it was the way these events intertwined with the realistic human journey of each individual that was highlighted \u2013 their feelings, their family, and their fate \u2013 that was taking me all the way OUT. I found myself drifting away from the book to contemplate the circumstance of each chapter deeply, and returning to it whenever my mind settled enough to wonder how the story would continue.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">It was jarring to me because this mirrors the way I\u2019ve found myself thinking about my own family history and genealogy in recent years. While I\u2019ve known of the Cliff Notes version of my heritage for some time, it\u2019s probably only in the last 7-8 years that I realized I could probe more deeply into the lives of my ancestors to better understand the decisions and forces that molded them as people&#8230; that have molded me as a person&#8230; that are molding me as a person. In this sense, Gyasi\u2019s novel became a guide for allll these questions I have, providing a Black story that is universal to us all yet incredibly personal for me.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">But&#8230; I really feel some kinda way about this at this particular moment in life. It\u2019s about a year after we all became Wakandans and&#8230; less than a week from when I\u2019ll set foot in Nigeria for the first time, a trip to a home I\u2019ve never been to. Lowkey&#8230; I\u2019ve been imagining myself as being on this international, multi-generational treasure hunt of unlocking my individual and familial identity in the world, and finishing this book feels like a critical step in the mission. Suddenly I\u2019m looking at this trip like I\u2019m Nicholas Cage trying to crack all the codes. Sheeeshh.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong><em>Where the Heart Is<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">As a first generation kid and habitual nomad, the idea of \u201chome\u201d has never felt as straightforward to me as it probably should be. It\u2019s several different places \u2013 most literally Romulus\/Metro Detroit, Michigan, where I was born and raised, or my current East Brooklyn dwelling. It\u2019s Columbus, Ohio, where I spent most of my adult life to date, and the base for so much of my chosen family. It\u2019s London, England, where my heart in the form of some of my dearest family members are. It\u2019s Black-as-hell locales where I felt so comfortable I\u2019ve been named an honorary citizen of, like Jamaica or Ghana, or places like Chicago or the DMV area where acquaintances who see me out and about comment \u201cOh, girl I see you so regularly I thought you lived here\u201d. Yet somehow, my deepest, most visceral feeling of familiarity comes from a region on Earth where I\u2019ve actually spent the least physical time&#8230; West Africa.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong><em>Miseducation<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">The first time I set foot on the continent, I remember being so amazed at the reality of Africa. My first trip was to The Gambia (my grandmother\u2019s land) as a teenager. Everywhere I looked I saw people who resembled my friends, teammates, neighbors back home in Michigan, and I was STUNNED. Immediately I could see that there were many things about Africa as a continent that while growing up Black in America \u2013 even as a person with direct African heritage \u2013 had been profoundly miscommunicated to me. Here we were in this beautiful Black nation, where all the things about my Blackness that I had learned needed to be subdued or deemphasized to fit in with American culture were thriving. Life was going on as usual, but there was this overarching sense of freedom I still can\u2019t really describe adequately. The white people we encountered (Europeans to be exact) were there simply because it was a highly enjoyable place to be, and seemed to be fully and unproblematically embracing the culture. This felt novel to me. Being there I experienced a sort of wholeness I didn\u2019t realize I hadn\u2019t before, intensified by the fact that it was the opposite of what I had been taught by society to expect.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><em><strong>Family-Ties<\/strong><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">One of my favorite experiences that happened was meeting the ruling family of Chiraa, Ghana. It was 2013. On my second trip to the continent, the delegation I was with had the opportunity to make a formal visit to the village of Chiraa, one that was small enough to possibly seem inconsequential to anyone looking for a place with any notoriety in a traditional sense. Nevertheless, I was excited to see more of the country.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">With a bashful chuckle, our program leader explained that he had been named a chief in this particular town for contributions he\u2019d made in the past, and so he tried to return each time he was in the region. He was obroni, so it was hard to miss the humor in that.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">We arrived at an outdoor space at the center of a municipal building. Shortly after, the Council of Elders strode onto the stage area, stately in vibrant ankara and followed by the Queen\u2019s court. The formalities followed, rich with pomp and beautifully time-steeped tradition. I was overwhelmed by the regality of each of them \u2013 especially of the graceful poise and command of the Queen and Queen Mother. So much so that after the group greeting I hung back a little, just taking in the magnificence of it all.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">The court of Queen Nana Yeboah Pene II, Chiraahemaa; Brong-Ahafo Region, Ghana.<\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #000000;\">It was then the Queen Mother called me over to where she stood. I approached her and obediently did a quick, deep kneel as I\u2019m accustomed to doing to greet African elders. She laughed, welcomed me with a warm embrace and said,<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">\u201cYou are my daughter, I love you.\u201d<\/span><br \/>\n<span style=\"color: #000000;\">The Queen Mother and her newest daughter, Queen Jr!!<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-104635\" src=\"https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article3.jpg\" alt=\"article Homegoing\" width=\"350\" height=\"466\" srcset=\"https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article3-200x266.jpg 200w, https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article3-225x300.jpg 225w, https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article3-400x532.jpg 400w, https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article3-600x798.jpg 600w, https:\/\/sayaspora.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/sayaspora_homegoing-article3.jpg 644w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 350px) 100vw, 350px\" \/>In that moment I felt so seen, so loved, so&#8230; connected. It was a moment that sums up the way I feel about Africa \u2013 there\u2019s a special type of familiar, familial embrace that only the Motherland gives me, and there is a deeply-rooted legacy that will immediately recognize you as its own no matter where in the diaspora you\u2019re from, whether you\u2019ve been on the continent before or not.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">2019 has been declared as The Year of Return officially by Ghana &#8211; the arguable heart of the West African slave trade &#8211; as it commemorates 400 years since the first Africans departed the continent to begin the Trans-Atlantic journey to the Americas. At the risk of simplifying and understating by saying our global Black community has had one hell of a past 400 years, I\u2019m recognizing that four centuries is hardly much time at all considering the span of a human life. I\u2019m finding deep comfort in Gyasi\u2019s literary reminder that it\u2019s definitely not enough time to destroy the ancestral commonalities that unite us. And, if we recognize that in the grand scheme of human civilizations that 400 years is really just a blip, how will this century in Blackness be defined?<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\">I\u2019m in love with this period of awakening and historical exploration we\u2019re in&#8230;also, if you were wondering, yes I\u2019m an honorary Ghanaian, so when you see me in Asanteland just call me Adwoa.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Journey to Naija: The Prelude I wrapped up Yaa Gyasi\u2019s [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":104634,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":"","_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[238],"tags":[243],"couleur":[],"etiquette-darchives":[],"type-de-ressource":[],"class_list":["post-102856","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-magazine-en","tag-lifestyle-en"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v28.4 - 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