From a Caribbean Island to an African Island: Tracing My Roots to Bioko

With Piruchi Apo and members of her backing vocal group during the excursion to Ureka.

In 2012, I watched an episode of Finding Your Roots, the American television series presented by Henry Louis Gates Jr. The episode featured Samuel L. Jackson, Condoleezza Rice and Ruth Simmons, whose family histories were explored through genealogical research and DNA testing.

Like many people of African Caribbean descent, I knew relatively little about my ancestors before their arrival in the Caribbean. The transatlantic slave trade had left gaps in my family history that conventional genealogical research could not easily fill.

Inspired by the programme, I took a DNA test with African Ancestry.

Unlike the more familiar autosomal tests offered by companies such as 23andMe, which examine DNA inherited from both parents, my test analysed mitochondrial DNA. This is passed from mothers to their children, but only daughters pass it on to the next generation. It therefore allows us to trace one continuous maternal line through many generations, although it tells us nothing about the vast majority of our ancestors.

My result identified a maternal genetic connection to the Bubi people of Bioko Island, Equatorial Guinea, off the coast of Central Africa.

I was exhilarated. Suddenly, I had something that felt like an origin story. Not simply Africa, but a people, an island, a place I could find on a map.

I imagined visiting one day, but life intervened, and the years passed. Nearly fifteen years later, in October 2026, I finally made the journey.

An unexpected sense of familiarity

I was born in Guyana, raised in Barbados and have spent much of my adult life in Britain. My identity has always been shaped by more than one country and culture.

Bioko was somewhere entirely new. I spoke neither Spanish, one of the country's official languages, nor Bubi, the indigenous language of the island, and knew relatively little about its history and traditions.

Yet there were moments of unexpected familiarity. The tropical landscape, fruits and foods recalled the Caribbean. Some of the faces reminded me of relatives back home.

Over the following days, I travelled around the island with my guide, Bitehelebo, visiting villages, markets, cocoa farms and waterfalls, meeting people who generously shared their stories and traditions.

Menarche, menopause and freedom

One of my most memorable experiences was an excursion to Ureka with Piruchi Apo, an internationally acclaimed Bubi singer, formerly of the duo Las Hijas del Sol, and two members of her backing vocal group.

As we travelled through the island's mountainous landscape, we talked about traditional Bubi beliefs and customs, including those surrounding menarche and menopause.

The women described rituals marking a girl's first menstruation (menarche), including periods of seclusion, restrictions on certain activities, and celebrations marking the end of the ritual period.

I was intrigued by the way these biological experiences were given cultural and social significance.

Naturally, given my interest in women's hormonal health, I asked about menopause. Were there equivalent rituals marking the end of reproductive life?

Their answer surprised me. There appeared to be no comparable ceremonies. Instead, they explained that after menopause, women could do anything that men could do.

I found the contrast fascinating. Menarche was marked by rituals and restrictions, while menopause appeared to confer a new freedom.

These were, of course, the accounts of three women rather than a comprehensive description of Bubi traditions. But the conversation stayed with me.

We tend to discuss menopause in terms of symptoms, hormonal changes and treatment. Yet it is also a transition that takes place within a particular cultural and social context.

For some women, menopause coincides with a reassessment of their roles, relationships and sense of identity. Perhaps it can also be an opportunity to reconsider the expectations and restrictions that have shaped their lives.