Marcus Johnson had always dreamed of standing on African soil. As a child growing up in Atlanta, Georgia, he would sit cross-legged on his grandmother’s floor, listening to stories about the motherland — a place of royalty, resilience and lost connections. “One day, we’ll go back,” she said, a descendant of enslaved Africans, her voice thick with longing. Decades later, Marcus found himself on a plane bound for Ghana, his heart pounding with anticipation. When he stepped onto the tarmac at Kotoka International Airport, he dropped to his knees and kissed the ground. “This is where my ancestors walked,” he whispered to himself. “I’m finally home.”
As he got older, the weight of being a Black man in America became heavier. He saw friends fall victim to systemic injustices — some lost to violence, others to a prison system that seemed designed to thwart them. The turning point came in 2020, amid nationwide protests following the killing of George Floyd. For Marcus, it wasn’t just about one man’s death; it was about centuries of struggle, about the feeling that no matter how hard he worked, he would always be seen as an outsider in the country of his birth.
That year, he stumbled upon a video about the Year of Return, a Ghanaian initiative encouraging African Americans to reconnect with their roots. The idea consumed him. He started researching, watching testimonials of others who had made the move. He read about Ghana’s long history as a gateway for the trans-Atlantic slave trade — and how, centuries later, it was extending a hand back to the descendants of those taken.
The final push came one evening when his mother, exhausted from the constant fear of raising a Black son in America, told him: “If you find peace there, go. Don’t wait until it’s too late like some of us did.”
And so he left.
Marcus arrived in Ghana with nothing but a suitcase and hope. He settled and was determined to rebuild his life on his own terms. But the transition wasn’t as seamless as he had imagined. While he felt welcomed, he also faced the complexities of starting over — of understanding the culture, securing land and proving to himself that he truly belonged.
Nonetheless, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like a target. He felt free.
For many African Americans like Marcus, Ghana’s Year of Return was more than a symbolic invitation — it was a long-awaited homecoming. Yet beneath the excitement of reconnection lay the challenges of starting over in a land both familiar and foreign.
The Year of Return was launched in 2019, marking 400 years since the first enslaved Africans were forcibly taken to the Americas. The bold initiative invited African Americans and the broader diaspora to reconnect with their ancestral homeland by offering them citizenship and the promise of a fresh start. The idea struck a chord, spurring a migration wave that has since seen hundreds of African Americans relocating to Ghana, with many settling in estates like the Pan African Village.
This estate in Asebu, by Ghana’s southern coastline, is not quite the high-end enclave some might have imagined. It is not a Dubai Marina of gated luxury apartments for wealthy returnees. Instead, it presents itself as an affordable opportunity for African Americans and others seeking to reconnect with their roots. It offers free land, with returnees only required to pay an administrative fee, making it accessible to middle-class people and those looking to start afresh.
But it has also laid bare the challenges of integration, cultural disconnects, concerns about land accessibility and accusations of government favoritism, issues that resonate uneasily within local communities. The aspirations of the returnees contrast with the apprehension of Ghanaians, revealing the complex layers of a story rooted in history, identity and belonging.
Ghana sought to reconnect with the African-American diaspora, many of whom, though unable to trace their lineage directly, feel an undeniable pull toward a shared past. The trans-Atlantic slave trade swept up captives from across West Africa, forcing them on harrowing marches through dense forests and unforgiving terrain before reaching the dungeons of Elmina and Cape Coast.
The initiative has undeniably captured the imagination of many African Americans seeking a symbolic return to their roots. Spearheaded by the country’s president at the time, Nana Akufo-Addo, the Year of Return initiative aimed to reconnect the African diaspora with their ancestral homeland, fostering a renewed sense of identity, belonging and economic opportunity. More than just a tourism campaign, it was a movement, one that invited African Americans and people of African descent worldwide to retrace their roots.
Beyond economics, the Year of Return deepened cultural ties, leading to collaborations in education, arts and business. Events like the Full Circle Festival brought influential diaspora figures to Ghana, amplifying its role as the gateway to Africa for those seeking to reconnect.
However, the enthusiastic arrival of African Americans has not been without repercussions. Their presence in Asebu was initially met with excitement, symbolizing a long-awaited reconnection with the motherland. But as more returnees arrived and demand for land grew, so did tensions.
Local residents claim their ancestral lands were allocated for the Pan African Village without proper consultation or compensation. Some families, who lived on these lands for generations, say they were blindsided by the decision, leading to legal battles with the Asebu Traditional Council over ownership rights.
Beyond legal disputes, cultural misunderstandings have added to the friction. Many returnees, eager to embrace their new home, struggle to navigate local customs and societal expectations. Meanwhile, some Ghanaians see the government’s enthusiastic embrace of the diaspora, offering land and citizenship, as favoritism, while they themselves continue to face economic hardship and bureaucratic red tape when trying to secure land.
Amid these tensions, some returnees also came to Ghana through easy online offers.
It all started with a website. In 2020, 71-year-old Karen Denise King, known as “Karen in Ghana,” stumbled upon a listing offering gifted land to Africans in the diaspora. For $700 in administrative fees, she secured a plot in Ghana’s Pan African Village — though she wasn’t sure she’d ever use it. Then fate intervened.
A trip with her Hebrew Israelite community brought her to Ghana, where she felt an indescribable connection, although she has no idea of her African heritage beyond a DNA test through Ancestry.com that showed links to Ghana, Congo, Nigeria and Togo. While most of her group later moved to South Africa, Karen initially stayed, feeling culturally and spiritually rooted. However, she eventually left Ghana and her return was then delayed because of COVID-19 restrictions. By the time she returned, her home was nearly complete and settling in Ghana became a rediscovery of identity — she saw faces that mirrored her family back in the United States and felt an even deeper sense of belonging.
Karen quickly integrated into the local community, embracing its warmth and traditions. As co-director of Africa Bar Construction and Management Services, she helps other returnees navigate land purchases and settlement. Her advice? “Take your time, do your research, and ensure your land is properly registered.”
For Karen, Ghana is more than a new home — it is where she belongs, a place of peace and purpose.
Following Ghana’s declaration of 2019 as the Year of Return, the country became a key destination for the African diaspora. As part of the initiative, the remains of enslaved Africans buried in countries like Barbados, the U.S. and Jamaica were reburied at Assin Manso Slave Park. The historic sites of Cape Coast Castle’s Gate of No Return and the Assin Manso Slave River were renamed the “Gate of Return” and “Bath of Return,” respectively, symbolizing a reconnection to ancestral roots. The initiative was widely praised as a landmark step in honoring the past and strengthening ties with the diaspora.
However, while the proclamation was a step in the right direction, some believe that ensuring its sustainability is a shared responsibility.
One such voice is the paramount chief of the Asebu Traditional Area in Ghana’s Central Region, where the Pan African Village lies. For him, the focus should not only be on celebrating the initiative but also on creating long-term structures to sustain it. “They will come, but if we do not create opportunities that attract and retain them, they will leave,” he explained in an interview with Ghana’s Joy News.
“So, I thought — why not allocate land specifically for those who want to return?” he continued. “If they have a place to call home here, even if they don’t stay permanently, they will continue to return, and through that, some will invest in businesses that will benefit the area.”
With this vision, the paramount chief has generously allocated 5,000 acres of land for African Americans and the African diaspora to establish the Pan African Village — a space dedicated to welcoming and integrating them into the community. However, in Ghana, land is traditionally held by families, with chiefs serving as custodians. This particular land originally belonged to various families and the larger Asebu community. Years ago, the paramount chief secured it for the development of an industrial park planned by the government. But as the government shifted focus and the project stalled, the land remained largely idle. In 2019, the paramount chief decided to give the land to African Americans and the diaspora.
Nestled within the lush, rolling landscapes of the Central Region, the Pan African Village is more than just a settlement — it is a vision realized, blending tradition with modern aspirations.
Designed for community, culture and sustainability, the village features earth-toned and modern homes that harmonize with the environment. Red clay roads wind through some settlements, shaded by mango, coconut and baobab trees, while birdsong fills the air, creating a haven of peace and tranquillity. With electricity, water and essential amenities, it offers both comfort and a deep connection to nature.
This initiative has been embraced by the chiefs and elders of the Asebu Traditional Area, who have also committed to offering designated land to Africans from the diaspora. Those who acquire land are expected to develop it in a timely manner, fostering economic growth and strengthening ties between Africa and its global descendants.
Gabriel Obodai is a historian and geographer at the University of Ghana. He sees the Year of Return as more than just a tourism or cultural initiative — it is a renewed call for Blacks of African descent to reclaim a sense of responsibility and allegiance to their ancestral home.
“This is a defining moment in Africa’s history. Instead of constantly looking outward for opportunities, we must channel our energy into building a strong and self-sufficient continent. With the right focus, Africa could rival and even surpass global powers like the United States,” Obodai told New Lines.
He emphasizes Pan-Africanism, a global movement that advocates for the unity, solidarity and empowerment of people of African descent, both on the African continent and in the diaspora. It promotes the idea that all African people, regardless of their geographical location, share a common history, culture and destiny.
Obodai told New Lines that the Year of Return project was “historic” and one of the best initiatives on the continent in recent times. The sentiment is shared by many of the African Americans who have returned to a place they call “home.”
“It felt like a spiritual homecoming,” said Carla Simmons, a 36-year-old African American entrepreneur who moved to Ghana in 2020. Simmons, like many others, speaks of a longing to escape the structural racism in the U.S. and build a life where her “Blackness is a color and not a threat.”
The promise of land was particularly enticing. Ghana’s offer — free of bureaucratic hurdles — held the allure of tangible ownership, something historically denied to African Americans. “It is a free land, they are only supposed to pay $700 for documentation,” the coordinator of the Pan African Village Project, Nana Obokese Ampah, told New Lines. For returnees like Simmons, acquiring land in Ghana symbolized reclaiming what their ancestors had lost — a personal and collective act of restitution.
Yet others, such as Kwame Agyemang, a 52-year-old farmer from Asebu, are furious. Initially hopeful about the Pan African Village, he was alarmed to learn his own land was included within it. “We realized our lands were part of it. We were shocked,” he said.
Agyeman lost 5 acres of palm trees, for which he was compensated to the tune of just $1.28 per tree. According to him, several families have been forced to abandon their farms to make way for the project. Frustration has been mounting, leading to tense confrontations between affected locals and some of the returnees.
“Some of the youth went there the other day to demand answers, but they were met with threats — guns were pulled on them. Now, the matter is in court,” Agyemang added, his voice heavy with resentment.
In light of these issues, some returnees have decided to purchase land outside the Pan African Village to avoid trouble. But among local Ghanaians, particularly in communities surrounding high-profile settlements near the Pan African Village, other grievances are growing, too. Key among them is the escalating price of land.
Charles Osei, a 57-year-old farmer in Cape Coast, has observed this shift firsthand. While he acknowledges the potential benefits of reconnecting the diaspora with their ancestral land, he believes that poor implementation of the project has left local communities struggling.
“Land prices here have tripled in the past few years,” Osei explained. “A plot of land that used to cost between 1,500 cedis [$97] and 3,000 cedis is now going for 12,000 to 18,000 cedis. We can’t compete with the dollars these people bring.”
For many locals, land is more than a financial asset; it is a vital part of their cultural heritage, passed down through generations for farming and settlement. Yet soaring prices are pushing ownership out of reach, threatening ancestral ties. Osei sees the Pan African Village as a noble vision but urges policymakers to refine its implementation to avoid marginalizing existing residents.
While returnees often see land purchases as a straightforward transaction, locals — many of whom rely on communal land systems — view these acquisitions as displacements. Community leaders worry that the commodification of land undermines traditional land tenure systems and deepens inequalities.
Beyond economic concerns, there is widespread frustration over perceived government favoritism toward returnees. Critics argue that policies supporting the Year of Return initiative disproportionately benefit African Americans at the expense of ordinary Ghanaians.
Richard Mbeah, an assembly member (councilor) and youth advocate in Cape Coast, initially supported the Pan African Village but now feels it has marginalized the locals. “We, the youth — many of whom are unemployed — struggle to buy land for our own use, yet it is being given to others for free,” Mbeah told New Lines.
Mbeah argues that public resources have prioritized diaspora investments over local needs like jobs and infrastructure. Wealthy buyers now acquire large plots, only to resell them at inflated prices, making land unaffordable. “Land prices have skyrocketed,” he said. “Many young people can no longer afford to buy land, and this is a serious issue.”
He believes the government and traditional leaders should have established better regulatory structures to prevent such outcomes. “There should have been clear guidelines to regulate pricing, ensure fairness in land distribution and protect the interests of local people, because this is all some of us have.”
To mitigate displacement, Mbeah suggests that a portion of land should have been reserved at subsidized rates for local families. Additionally, he sees a need for more community-driven initiatives that foster integration between returnees and locals, rather than creating exclusive settlements. “We need jobs, we need infrastructure, we need support. Instead, [leaders are] focusing on other things.”
But supporters of the Pan African Village project disagree with Mbeah’s perspective. They argue that the initiative has been largely successful, attracting diaspora investment that has improved local infrastructure, created jobs and boosted tourism.
Nana Obokese Ampah acknowledges that land-related disputes remain a significant challenge. However, he refrains from discussing them in detail, as some issues are currently being contested in court. He emphasizes the need for stronger political will to regulate Ghana’s land system. “The land system in Ghana is complicated and, as chiefs, we face many challenges as custodians,” he told New Lines.
Despite these difficulties, Ampah insists the project has been beneficial and deserves widespread support. “Now, we even have a Jamaican restaurant here in Asebu,” he said. “The arrival of the diasporans has fueled growth in the real estate industry. They are purchasing land across the country, building homes and investing in various sectors.”
While the Year of Return was intended to foster a Pan-African spirit of unity, the realities on the ground tell a more complex story. Mbeah believes the mixed reactions stem from a cultural disconnect between returnees and native Ghanaians. Although African Americans and Ghanaians share ancestral ties, their lived experiences differ vastly. Social norms, historical contexts and economic conditions create barriers to integration.
“Many locals perceive African Americans as affluent outsiders who enjoy privileges unavailable to the average Ghanaian,” Mbeah said. “This perception, whether true or not, fuels tensions and raises questions about equity and we see this clearly in the Pan African Village project’s execution.”
The Year of Return was touted as a way to boost Ghana’s economy by attracting investment and tourism. Has it delivered on its promises? The economist and banking professional Richmond Badasu offered a mixed assessment. “There has been some economic benefit,” he said. “The diaspora has brought in foreign currency, invested in businesses and created jobs. But the impact has been uneven.”
Badasu pointed out that much of the investment has been concentrated in areas like the Pan African Village in the Central Region and upmarket estates in the capital, Accra, leaving many rural communities untouched. He noted that returnees are reshaping Ghana’s real estate market. “Many are eager to own land and develop properties, creating jobs for local real estate agents, construction workers and sales professionals.”
However, this wave of investment has intensified competition for land, pricing many locals out of the market. “The demand has led to skyrocketing land prices. Sellers often double their prices when dealing with returnees, preferring those who can pay in dollars over locals with limited purchasing power.”
Despite these concerns, Badasu acknowledges that the returnees’ financial power injects capital into Ghana’s economy. “They create jobs and spur infrastructure growth, but at the same time, locals bear the cost of losing affordable housing and land. The balance between investment and inclusion is something policymakers must address.”
For the social activist Moses Asigbey, as Ghana’s diaspora engagement strategy evolves, addressing the tensions between African Americans and local communities is essential. “This beautiful project must prioritize inclusivity, equitable access to resources and fostering genuine cultural exchange,” he told New Lines.
He believes one key approach is creating dialogue platforms, whereby returnees and locals can openly discuss their experiences and expectations. Such initiatives, he said, could help dispel stereotypes, build mutual understanding and promote shared goals.
He added that policies should also focus on regulating land acquisitions to prevent exploitation and ensure that local communities benefit from diaspora investments. “Educational programs must be included to emphasize Ghana’s shared history with the diaspora because it will play a pivotal role in bridging cultural divides.” By highlighting commonalities while respecting differences, Asigbey explained, these programs could foster a more inclusive Pan-African identity.
The Year of Return has undeniably ignited conversations about identity, belonging and the African diaspora’s role in shaping the continent’s future. For African Americans, Ghana represents a chance to reclaim a connection lost to history. For Ghanaians, the initiative presents both opportunities and challenges, from economic growth to cultural tensions. Ultimately, the success of this bold experiment lies in navigating these complexities with empathy and equity.
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