December 22, 2021

After breakfast, we loaded up the vans and headed an hour north to the border of Ghana and Burkina Fuso to Paga Chief Crocodiles Pond. The pond is inhabited by wild West African crocodiles, some up to 90 years old. The crocodiles are so tame that local children can swim in the pond without worry or harm. A locally told story is that a crocodile brought a dying man to the pond to drink, who after surviving, declared the pond to be sacred and that no harm should come to the crocodiles. This poor old crocodile was so bored with us, but our guide reminded us that it was still a wild animal with quick movements and very big teeth. 

As we drove, we saw a few road signs for former slave encampments. Our drivers suggested we visit one in the same local vicinity as the crocodiles by the name of Pikworo Slave Camp. 

Pikworo Slave Camp was founded in 1704 and remained active until 1845. During this point in African history one warring tribe would capture strong men, women and children from their adversary, then march them to a slave transit center where the slaves were auctioned and later resold 94 miles south for payment and shipment by either the English, French or the Dutch. 

At the camp, captives were chained by the camp owners to trees during the day, in the evening they were taken to this field of rocks where they were fed. Scoops in rocks served as manmade eating bowls. The larger the size of the scoop the higher the number of slaves to eat from the scoop. The usual meager broth meals got larger when traders were coming. The stronger the slave the higher the price they would bring. 

A gash in a large rock at the camp served as a year-round source of water. The slaves considered the constant water source a miracle. 

The three men below, joined by our two drivers, favored us with music, song and dance as they took small rocks and beat out a rhymth on the large rock behind them. The slaves did this as nightly entertainment. The rock produced a mornful hollow sound that was joined by the men’s deep melodic chanting voices. A young African boy, who had been following us out of curosity, heard the clicking from the rock and began dancing. It was a trance like motion, similar to many dancers we have seen. 

 When the traders were in camp, the slaves stood on this rock, known as Meeting Place. Here, they were elevated enough for the traders to evaluate size, strength and general health of each slave for purchase. The individuals who were bought were told their family members would soon follow. This was a way for the traders to pacify and hold emotions at bay as those who had been purchased were lead away. The traders never returned for family members. It was a cruel lie.

A watchman was posted on Watch Tower of the Slave Raiders with a clear view of the valley below. From there they could monitor people coming and going, especially the dreaded slave  traders. This was also were they could watch the occasional escapee run to what they hoped would be their eventual freedom. 

  

When a slave died in the camp they were buried in a hollowed out cavern underneath the ground. 

 Our guide told the poignat story of Punishment Rock. If a slave tried to run, or broke any of the camp rules, they were sat and chained with their hands behind their back to this rock for 24 hours in the hot, searing sun and given no food or water. To mark the time, they were forced to keep their eyes on the sun as it moved across the sky. By the end of their 24 hour punishment their eyes burned, many were temporarily blinded. If a person was sent to the rock for a second time, it was almost certain they would be permanently blinded. Note the worn marks around the base of the rock where, through the years, the chains rubbed as the slaves fought to escape the heat of day.

 Africans are wonderful story tellers, our guide was no exception. He told the story of the camp with emotion, but he was also clear that the slave trade in this area and this camp was black Africans capturing, buying and selling black Africans. The whole concept of one of God’s children treating another in such a way is heartwrenching.