Witnessing Joy and Sorrow: Reflections from the Villages of Senegal

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Statue of two people breaking chains, surrounded by tropical plants, with a historical plaque and a pink building in the background.

It is August 2016, and we are in the taxi of Pape, our guide, to reach the villages during our humanitarian mission in Senegal, one of the projects of the Help Senza Confini non-profit association. When I asked about the origin of the name of this African state, he told me that the probable origin comes from the Wolof language “sunu-gaal,” which means “our canoes.”

As we are in the fishing village of Ouakam, a canoe arrives from the sea. The writings on it are barely visible because it is surrounded by men and children who push it out of the water, onto the shore, and then up onto the sand to rest after the fishing. Each person’s effort will be rewarded with a fish. Yes, because “sunu-gaal” doesn’t just mean “our canoes,” but it has a deeper meaning that characterizes Senegalese culture: belonging to the same family, the natural instinct to be supportive; here, “sunu-gaal” means “being in the same boat.”

I needed to digest the emotions I felt on this journey; I needed to give myself time to find the words, and I’m not sure if I have succeeded.

In the silence of my secret chambers, the joyful screams of those children in front of the sweetness of candies and the playful hands of Roberta, who creates colourful animals from balloons, continue to echo. Some young eyes, already filled with the bitterness that life can bring, continue to pierce my heart… How many lives, how many stories have I had the honour of touching only briefly? The smell of black smoke coming out of car exhaust pipes still lingers, mixed with the dust of village roads, all blended with the colours of fruits displayed on sidewalks, with women with industrious hands sitting on colourful buckets.

Knowing that the medicines we brought will improve the first aid given to the children and women found on the streets gives me some relief, but it’s not enough… Knowing that children will be able to wear new clothes raises questions in my mind… Knowing that we have contributed to making a kitchen more functional makes me think that here, “functional” is a different concept from our habits; here, it means having a refrigerator to preserve food… Knowing that the mothers in the villages we visited were able to buy food for their numerous children for a few days is still not enough… Perhaps it is the feeling of not being able to do enough that takes your breath away, I think, as I look at Francesco, the President of Help Senza Confini, through the dusty mirror of the taxi.

Every morning, my emotions blend in the chaotic and colourful traffic, where yellow taxis parade along with unconventional buses carrying men and animals from the outskirts to their workplaces, while car horns create an atonal harmony… Who would leave this colourful and welcoming land after being born here and having the opportunity to build a life?

But perhaps this is a question that is not limited to this case. Without going too far, considering the terrible news events while trying to maintain some lightheartedness, if we could work where our roots are, would we leave for less familiar places?

It is August 17, 2016, 11:30 local time. There is the smell of incense, an informal atmosphere, and we are in the office of Secretary General Sidy Gueye of the Ministry of Women, Family, and Childhood, a designation that emphasizes the contribution of women to the social structure and the importance of strengthening it. His business card reads: République du Sénégal, Un Peuple – Un But – Une Foi. As he tells us about the projects the Ministry is dedicated to, it becomes evident that we are guests of a people whose values are based on trust, community, and generosity. Their saying is: “If you come to me, you are a king.”

A Visit to Gorée Island: Confronting a Painful Legacy

The afternoon of the same day is gray and threatening, as we are in the rainy season, and we visit the island of Gorée, a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1978, which houses the Maison des Esclaves, the House of Slaves, through which millions of Africans passed, torn from their homeland to become slaves in the Americas. We saw the weapons used by slave traders, the tiny rooms where “the reluctant” were confined, the rooms with small windows where children were crowded together, and the rooms where women were “fished out” by the military to leave pregnant with mixed-race children… Finally, the final tearing away from their roots, their families, and their children, through the door leading to the sea, where slaves were boarded onto ships or thrown into the sea to die if they were too weak. It was a shame that lasted until 1848, the year of the definitive abolition of slavery in French territories, passed in silence… As I make my way back to catch the ferry, trying to overcome the nausea after the museum visit, I observe the beauty of the colonial-style buildings, reminiscent of Cuba, surrounded by bougainvilleas, with sandy streets and buildings made of lava stone… Numerous children, unaffected by the rain, bathe in the waters of the harbor, and the sound of their laughter accompanies our departure from there.

Historic artifacts and views from Gorée Island, Senegal, showcasing slave shackles and scenic coastal landscapes.

Reflecting on Slavery, Colonization, and the Shadows of History

Visiting the museum on Gorée Island served as a stark reminder that the fight against racism, discrimination, and the lasting impacts of colonization is a global struggle. It underscores the importance of solidarity across borders and cultures as we strive to build societies founded on empathy, inclusivity, and respect.

The artifacts and stories held within those walls witness to the horrors endured by millions of Africans forcibly taken from their homelands and cast into a life of bondage in the Americas. The House of Slaves served as a chilling reminder of humanity’s capacity for cruelty and the enduring scars left by the transatlantic slave trade.

By contemplating the profound impact of slavery, my thoughts expanded beyond the confines of Gorée Island. I couldn’t help but draw connections between the histories of Canada and the United States. Which have built their foundations upon the pillars of colonialism, slavery, and the oppression of Indigenous peoples.

Canada, often praised for its multiculturalism and inclusivity, cannot overlook the fact that it was built upon the displacement, marginalization, and cultural erasure of its First Nations. From the systematic removal of children through residential schools to the disregard for treaty rights and land sovereignty, the legacy of colonization continues to reverberate within our society.

Similarly, the United States, heralded as the land of opportunity, must confront its history marred by the institution of slavery. The brutal exploitation of African people, their forced labor, and the enduring systemic racism that persists today are testaments to the deep-rooted scars of a nation grappling with its past.

As I reflect on the intertwined histories of slavery, colonization, and oppression, it becomes clear that acknowledging these painful truths is not an act of dwelling in guilt, but rather a vital step towards healing and reconciliation. It is incumbent upon us to confront the shadows of our history, to listen to the voices of the marginalized, and to work collectively towards justice and equality.

In Canada and the United States, movements for Indigenous rights, land restitution, and truth and reconciliation are gaining momentum. Through education, dialogue, and meaningful action, we can strive to dismantle systemic injustices and forge a future where the wounds of the past can begin to heal.

Woman with flower in hair, smiling outdoors near lush greenery, holding a bag and sunglasses.

Gratitude and Perspective: Essential Elements of Life

Each day has its own intensity, and in the darkness of my room, Pape’s words echo: “People here don’t feel poverty because we have solidarity.”

We remember solidarity in the face of tragedies, and we feel poor if we don’t have “purchasing power.”

So I think about the car left to my newly licensed son while I was away, the “scars” it obtained in my absence… My car now resembles those seen in Senegal. I am not sure when or if I will fix it. It still works, and this “African style,” written with all the love I felt for this country and respect for the ability to transform wounds with dignity into something positive such as solidarity and many other beautiful things, reminds me of what is essential: having clothes; a home; medicine to treat me if I get sick; good legs to move on foot; a car or a bicycle if needed; a job that I enjoy; the warmth and solidarity of family and social networks; the opportunity to broaden the mind through education; the ability to savour food; enjoy the beauty of a place; and express love knowingly.

I am grateful for this experience.

Let’s carry the lessons learned from history with us as we navigate the complexities of the present. May our actions be guided by a commitment to justice, equality, and the recognition of the inherent dignity of all peoples. Only then can we hope to create a future where the legacies of slavery and colonization are finally transformed into stories of resilience, healing, and unity.

Smiling woman in red dress sitting on a white sofa, leaning on her hand.

Nancy Perin

Nancy is a caring individual with a background in sociology and a strong desire to connect people. She has improved workplaces and communities with her almost two decades of experience in management teams, human resources, coaching, and community project management. Nancy has also served on the board of directors of the Italian Personnel Managers Association and participated in a humanitarian mission to Dakar, Senegal, to support family centres.

Her intercultural love story sparked her interest in migration-relatedtopics and led her to launch @journeysta, a project that aims to strengthen cultural ties between Canada and Italy.

Nancy oversees the Gallery of Human Migration and believes in the possibility of creating caring communities that are involved in the processes of welcoming, acceptance, and integration. Join her on this journey of discovery and cultural exchange.

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Woman smiling in a garden, sitting on a rock beside white flowers, enjoying the sunny day.