Sankofa

“‘Where are you from?’ a Rhodesian called Thomas Phiri asked when I got up to leave.

‘Diamond Coast,’ I said.

‘That’s a slave name. Named for what they stole from us.’

‘It’s the only one I know.’”

Names are a key motif in Sankofa, specifically the relationship between African names and the European names that replaced them during and after colonization. Here, Francis has the sobering realization that the only name he knows for his home region is one that was created by enslavers. This moment foreshadows his later decision to renounce the European part of his name.

“I want to cheer for young Francis. He would have taught me how to fight, how to make a fist and throw a punch. Not like my mother, who raised me to have nice manners no matter the provocation.”

One reason that Anna connects so deeply to the idea of Francis is that she projects onto him all the qualities that Bronwen lacked. As her Black parent, he would have understood the racism she faced and could have taught her how to respond in a way that empowered her rather than diminishing her sense of self.

“We’re just the same. It was her lie, her special fantasy. Francis Aggrey would have known I was different, would have been proud of it.”

In this passage, the narrative explores why a color-blind approach to discussing race can be unhelpful and even downright harmful. Uncomfortable with acknowledging or discussing racism, Bronwen creates a problematic solution to the issue in trying to ignore it entirely by deliberately effacing any differences between Anna and herself. As a result, Anna grows up with the limiting belief that being different from the mainstream is a negative attribute at best.

“With my mother, Francis was predator. With Menelik, he was prey.”

In this statement, Anna highlights the idea that reality is relative, for it can quickly shift with the move from one social context to another. As she travels to Bamana to rediscover her heritage, this concept will play an influential role in developing the novel’s key themes.

“I still thought of my father as Francis, though I could guess why he changed his name. It was historic reversal. Kwabena to Peter, Francis to Kofi.”

Kofi’s decision to go by his African name is a symbolic reclamation of his identity. He is no longer trying to quietly get by in white English society; instead, he is openly honoring his Bamanian heritage with pride. This name change accompanies his development into a radical political activist.

“The crocodile. That’s what they called him in Bamana when I was there. He was ruthless, cold-blooded, deadly.”

In this passage, Anna learns for the first time that some Bamanians consider Kofi to be a ruthless dictator rather than a visionary leader and revolutionary. With the realization that her father no longer exudes the idealistic qualities exhibited by young “Francis,” Anna realizes that her current understanding of her father is severely limited and embarks upon a quest to discover the “real” Kofi.

“There would be more of everything, more for everyone. ‘Switzerland in West Africa,’ those were Bennett’s words.”

This quote encapsulates the lofty hopes of the early post-colonial period in West Africa, for Kofi represents a fictionalized version of the many real-world leaders who offered visions of a near-utopian society during this time frame. It is also telling that Kofi compares his vision of Bamana to Switzerland, for he will later be criticized for becoming too friendly with European powers.

“She can pass in these places and perhaps she does. A part of me envies her this. Her passage through the world is smoother because her skin is a few shades paler than mine.”

Again, Anna shows her keen understanding of how profoundly the issue of race affects everyone’s lives. Even she and her own daughter fail to find common ground about race because Rose has not experienced the world as a Black woman.

“But at twenty-two, it was Robert’s assurance that was attractive. I let him choose and choose, until I became like one of those religious people with their mantra tattooed on their wrist: What would Robert do?”

As Anna works on reinventing herself, she must reckon with the fact that she has always allowed Robert’s dominant behavior to overwrite her identity. There are several power differentials at play in their relationship, including race, class, and gender, all of which make it easy for Robert to speak over Anna, and for Anna to accept this dynamic.

“Six years after independence, no one could challenge the great leader Kofi. Power corrupts, but nowhere more than a small African state.”

Here, Adrian muses on how Kofi first became a corrupt leader. He evokes the idea that power is a generally corrupting force, but he also asserts that this dynamic is especially true in African nations that have a long history of oppression.

“What had she not done? What had she not given? A sense of rightness, a sense of self. It was nothing when you had it. You hardly noticed. But once it was missing, it was like a sliver of fruit on a sea voyage, the difference between bleeding gums and survival.”

Upon expressing her frustration that she can’t make Bronwen understand her experiences, Anna touches on a much larger issue, for those who have not experienced marginalization or identity loss are incapable of fully recognizing the extent of their privilege simply because they take the feeling of security for granted.

“She was a good mother, hardworking, king, quiet, timid, too timid to have raised a black child in the seventies.”

Despite Bronwen’s mistakes, Anna views her as being an essentially good parent. This conviction complicates her relationship to her late mother, for she holds both resentment and gratitude for her London upbringing.

“He was a white man in Britain and a white man in Bamana.”

Sankofa explores how Anna and Kofi’s status shifts with each new social context, while white men like Adrian have come to expect respect as their due, no matter where they choose to go. Thus, the issue of race touches every aspect of characters’ lives in Sankofa, but only its Black characters can fully recognize this fact.

“What did I want from him? What do children want from absent fathers?”

Here, Anna probes what Kofi can give her now that they are meeting as adults. No matter where their relationship goes, Anna cannot reverse the fact that she grew up without a father, yet she still feels that Kofi has something of value to give her.

“I was the traveler desperate for an authentic experience, an event that would turn me from an outsider to an insider, a door that I could step through and become Bamanian. And even as I roamed the streets of Segu, I knew no such doors existed.”

In Bamana, Anna feels as out of place as she does in London. Her diverse racial and cultural heritage make her feel like a tourist in all places. Tellingly, she recognizes that there is no magic door that will take away this feeling—instead, she must resolve this cognitive dissonance internally.

“I feel bold. I have decided to bypass Kofi and speak directly to Francis. Kofi is a former president and a stranger, but Francis I have studied. Francis, I know well.”

Throughout the narrative, Anna separates the idea of Francis and the reality of Kofi as if they are two different men. She retains hope that she can bring out aspects of Francis in her father. Her habit of looking to the past rather than reckoning with the present relates her to the novel’s titular symbol, the sankofa, for she metaphorically resembles the mythical, backward-facing bird who cannot effectively fly forward while it is looking behind.

“He did some good things. My parents’ generation love him. He freed them of colonial rule, gave their children free education, all of that. But I can’t think of him without remembering the Kinnakro Five.”

Here, Marcellina explains the complicated legacy that a corrupt leader can leave behind. Depending on one’s perspective, Kofi’s legacy is either heroic or tyrannical, and this contrast illustrates the complex nature of politics in a small, unstable nation like Bamana.

“When you are outside government, it is easy to say, ‘I will nationalize everything,’ but once you get into power, you realize the whites stick together. Nationalize one of their companies and none of the rest will do business with you.”

Kofi’s defense against Anna’s criticism emphasizes the fact that practicing politics in theory is far simpler than achieving those goals in real life. Just like Anna, a young Kofi once thought that there would be a simple and straightforward path to helping Bamana, but when he became prime minister and attempted to put his ideas into practice, he had to contend with the ongoing legacy of colonialism.

“‘All right. You suffered more. Were you loved?’

‘I was. And you?’ I asked.

‘Sometimes. Not enough.’”

Sankofa explores the complexities of parent-child relationships. Anna believes that her life would have been easier if her father were present, but in this passage, Afua deliberately flips the script and challenges that idea. Although Afua grew up in a two-parent household, she didn’t feel loved, while Anna did. With this conversation, Anna is forced to reevaluate her own inner narrative about her life and is able to recognize that not all aspects of her childhood were detrimental.

“I could not resist Kofi. He understood this, perhaps: that a child can long for a parent in a way that a parent can never long for a child. He was fully formed when I was born, while I have always been missing a father.”

Despite her resentment toward Kofi, Anna is inexorably drawn to him because he represents what has been missing from her life for so long: a father figure and an avatar of the suppressed aspects of her heritage. Here, she highlights the fact that their newfound relationship cannot undo the fact that she grew up without a father. This moment highlights the novel’s larger exploration of how powerfully the past influences the present.

“It was his pattern, the ying [sic] and the yang, Francis and Kofi in one person.”

In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang are two opposite but complementary natural forces. Together, they balance one another out in perfect harmony. Anna evokes the symbol of yin and yang when considering the two sides of her father, and this statement indicates her acceptance of both his positive and his negative qualities, which combine to form the whole of Kofi.

“I don’t miss the hunger, but things were more straightforward then. Our goal was to drive the imperialists out. Of course, once that is achieved, you must build a country.”

In this passage, Kofi admits that even in his early days of political involvement, his goal seemed much more straightforward. His contemplations reveal his eventual understanding that uniting against a common enemy is a far simpler task than rebuilding a country that has been ravaged by centuries of oppression. While some negative aspects of his tenure as prime minister are entirely his own choice, others are at least partially a product of the long, ruinous history of colonialism in Bamana

“It is the obroni way—to always find African attempts wanting.”

Though Kofi has previously assured Anna that he doesn’t perceive her as being a white woman, this statement belies that assurance, for he dismissively asserts that her criticism of him is typical of the attitude that a white foreigner would hold. Kofi uses this accusation as an evasive tactic to deflect a valid criticism, but his words also force Anna to consider whether she can come to fully understand his perspective on Bamana.