Wanda Tucker stepped off the plane to a sky so gray it blended into the tarmac. She inhaled, balanced her new bag with the straw handle, then step-by-step-by-step made her way down the metal stairs.
It had been 40 hours since she left Virginia. Her 61 years had caught up. Something about flying over that wide, dark water, watching the low tin roofs rise to meet her, had brought home the reality of what she had come here to do.
Wanda and her family believed they were descended from the first Africans brought to the English colonies 400 years ago this month. They hadn’t proved it, but they didn’t doubt it. Now here she was, in the place those ancestors had called home: dusty, mysterious Angola.