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| Van Vicker and Mom |
African celebrated actor Van Vicker has taken a heartfelt journey back to his maternal hometown, Jaytoken, in Liberia’s River Gee County, retracing his lineage and embracing his roots. The actor documented his adventure, which began on Tuesday, February 18, 2025, and saw him traverse Liberia’s challenging road networks from Monrovia through Nimba and Grand Gedeh before reaching his final destination.
What started as a quiet road trip quickly turned into a homecoming celebration, as fans recognized him along the way, and his arrival in Jaytoken was met with spontaneous traditional music, dancing, and warm embraces. The visit stirred deep emotions, particularly as he reflected on childhood memories with his late grandmother, who had first taken him to the village years ago.
Van Vicker, who proudly acknowledges his Liberian, Ghanaian, and Dutch heritage, described the experience as both humbling and fulfilling, vowing to return to his mother’s homeland again and again.
Below is his full statement
What started as a sleepy journey on the dawn of Tuesday, 18th February 2025 took us through the winding and intermittently developed and decrepit road networks of Liberia. From Monrovia all the way to Jaytoken, River Gee County, my mother's hometown and a trace to my lineage.
Uneventful as it seemed, my first delight and flabbergasting moment after approximately 4hrs drive surfaced on arrival in Ganta City, Nimba county. I was swarmed by scores of ardent fans and admirers who recognised me though I was trying to have breakfast discreetly.
Unbeknownst to me, the area boys referred to as Zogoes, took quick advantage of my presence to raise chants so enticing that not tipping them would've seemed really distasteful. Pegged on by their gleeful chants of "dah our star yeh," to "Dah Our Pa oh," It was overwhelming to see Liberians outside of Monrovia relish their own. Tipping them was inevitable and I did so joyfully. After then we continued the journey with another 6hrs or so ahead of us.
The road from Nimba to Grand Gedeh, Zwedru, was most perilous, a seeming trap for any driver oblivious of the route.
More often than not my mom would urge the driver, 'slow down', 'take it easy', the expression on her face could only demonstrate the bodily pains she was subjected to. We had a lunch break in Zwedru where I had fufu and pepper soup.
A nostalgic moment for me was when I took a picture next to the ex president Samuel K. Doe monument. As a young boy I remember a part of a sentence from a speech he once made in the mid 80s or so, '...in the course of the people, the struggle continues'.
Fish Town City, River Gee County was our stopover due to fatigue. It was most welcoming with its stable dusty roads and intermittent properly constructed asphalts.
We arrived in the city at dusk and almost suddenly got tucked in as everyone was writhing from the pains caused by the hard knocks of those precarious roads.
I was tickled pink with the hotel considering how far out we were from the big cities.
On the morning of Wednesday our driver, Melvin, had our 'war bus' (the Nissan Patrol) ready for the final 1 hour leg of the trip.
Stepping out of my room I was met by some relatives who live in Fish Town, however the provocating flash was meeting one of the Paramount Chiefs of River Gee so well rooted in prosedural tradition that he commands a council of three wives. He led our deligation.
As we stepped out of the hotel to begin our journey to Teta's (that's how I call my mom) hometown, we were met by a crowd of fans, this time, many being students headed to class and those workers checking out what was being sold for breakfast along the roadside.
I greeted them with a cheerful smile and took several photos. Many was of the view that I couldn't have been 'Raj' in their village, 'what would Raj be doing here'? others quizzed. 'Dey boh resemboh Raj ooo' yet others whispered. Translated means, this boy resembles Raj.
I totally understood their disorientation, indeed I would never believed my eyes if I saw Denzel Washington for instance on the streets of Fish Town, River Gee. I'll be damned.
And then we were on our way.
Our speed was soon dropped to about 10km/h for the final 45mins stretch. It was something out of National Geographic Channel or 'Jungle Cruise'. On the left and right side of the vehicle was nothing but bush in close proximity to the narrow 'road path'.
My entourage was small and efficient, this included my beloved mother, uncle D (affectionately known as Tactical), Byron (security extraordinaire), Israel an actor colleague, a friend, who documented this trip and Melvin the versatile driver who had stories to share about his many different road trips around Liberia.
Our arrival was met by silence but little did we know that Jaytoken, Putoken and its enclaves had plans to see one of their mothers and her son who had returned to ground zero after so many years.
We were offered seats at the immediate outskirt of the village and as I pondered over the absence of people, unexpectedly a lady emerged trotting and singing in the local dialect, the sound of drums, sasa and chants soon followed, I was mesmerized at the spontaneity and meloody.
This magical aura captivated us until I began noticing the impact of my decision to join Teta on her journey back home as many who received us became joyfully tearful while exchanging pleasantries.
We were thronged by families and friends singing as we walked to the town's only church where prayers of thanksgiving were offered.
To my surprise, people out here keep their prayers extremely short unlike we the city folks, perhaps there is not much to ask God for, is there or conversely is there not?
Anyway, we headed to the town's palava hut where the traditional welcoming ceremony took off on the heels of kola nuts, hot tasty pepper, palm wine, speeches and women running into the setting singing, interrupting for about 30secs or so, its all the traditional nuances of Jaytoken.
One after the other, from traditional recitations welcoming us, to stories of my childhood being retold in my presence as tears of joy streamed down my Mama's face.
It was my grand Ma who took me to Jaytoken when I was a kid, fond memories. I choked on my words as I recounted the stories about her. She literally took care of us.
She was so dear to me because amongst other things, she was the only one who called me Fiifi at home or not. She pronounced it as 'Flefle', lol. And so, now, the Van Vicker name is weird to 'Jaytokeins' cos the entire Jaytoken elders and peers know me as Fiifi or Raj (the youths and kids).
'Grama' passed on at home in Accra, Ghana in my arms after blessing me. She made some revelations to me before her last breath, I was astounded and pleased at the same time.
Rest in Peace 'Ma'.
I met the elders, women, youth and kids as we enjoyed pure undiluted palm wine straight from God to man.
What started as a small visit back to my mom's hometown turned into festivities as relatives came tugging at us for cozy embraces. And one by one we obliged and were treated to the warmth of their hospitality and love.
I stand acutely fulfilled as we bid them farewell and headed back to Monrovia. The day was a success. Teta was ecstatic and smiled from ear to ear.
The only obstacle that tugged at our smooth quest came while leaving Jaytoken, headed for Fish Town.
About twenty minutes into the journey back, the 4-wheeler on our Nissan Patrol failed in the middle of a mini treacherous hill. But where the conventional 4-wheeler accessory failed, Melvin's somewhat sophisticated handmade type thing after attaching it to the tires succeeded. The vehicle revved out of the ditch and we were back on our way in no time but not before a piece of our back bumper was knocked off by the unforgiving rugged road.
To the Liberian people I've heard your many debates far and wide. Unequivocally, now you know that I am a bonafide Liberian whose blood flows along the Gee River and connects to the fish creek in Jaytoken, my beloved mother's hometown.
I am proud of my tri nationality.
I came to Jaytoken, Liberia, I saw, and I will be back.
Again and again and again.
So help me God.
Source www.ghanaweb.com
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