At the age of 13, Anta Madjiguène Ndiaye was forcibly taken from her home in the Djolof kingdom, in what is now Senegal, and transported across the Atlantic as a slave. Three decades later, she owned land in Florida. Today, family members in Senegal are piecing together the story of a life that defied the brutal realities of the transatlantic slave trade.
Born free in the early 19th century, in the heart of the Djolof kingdom, Ndiaye’s world was shattered by the expanding reach of the slave trade. The kingdom, weakened by internal conflicts, was increasingly vulnerable to raids, a fact reflected in family oral histories. “Within my family, the story of Anta / Anna Madjiguène Ndiaye was already related when I was a child,” says Ibrahima Saër Ndiaye, an archivist and heritage conservator. “It was a fact established, almost irrevocable.”
The precise details of her capture remain fragmented, passed down through generations. Family accounts point to a location near Pirtarky, a traditional meeting place for farmers and herders, as the site where she was abducted. According to Ndiaye, the family tradition doesn’t specify an exact date, but rather focuses on the traumatic event itself, a pattern consistent with the way oral histories are preserved in African cultures, prioritizing the experience over strict chronology.
Even as some accounts suggest Ndiaye was not alone when captured, and that other young women were taken with her, the identities of those companions have largely been lost to time. The oral tradition suggests a swift raid, rather than a large-scale military confrontation, aligning with historical analyses that indicate most captives in the Senegambia region were taken during opportunistic attacks.
Ndiaye’s origins place her within a noble lineage. She was a member of the Bourba Djolof Mba Bouri Niabou Ndiaye family, who ruled the Djolof kingdom from 1800 to 1818. This royal connection underscores the tragedy of her enslavement, as someone of high status was subjected to the same horrors as others.
After being transported to Cuba, Ndiaye was purchased by Zephaniah Kingsley in 1806. Kingsley, a plantation owner and slave trader who had become a citizen of Spanish Florida in 1803, was granted a plantation by the Spanish colonial government in exchange for bringing approximately 70 enslaved people to the territory. He made Ndiaye his mistress, and later his wife, in a non-European ceremony.
In 1811, Kingsley legally emancipated Ndiaye, and their four children. This act was unusual for the time, and allowed Ndiaye to accept on a significant role in managing Kingsley’s plantations in East Florida. By 1813, she was administering a land concession of over 20,000 square meters, an exceptional position for a formerly enslaved African woman.
The Kingsley’s established a life on Fort George Island, benefiting from the Spanish colonial legal framework that recognized interracial marriages and allowed mixed-race children to inherit property. However, this stability was threatened when Florida came under U.S. Control in 1821, and laws restricting interracial marriage were enacted. The family relocated to Haiti in response, where they were offered land and citizenship.
Kingsley died in 1843 while on a business trip to Fresh York, leaving his estate to Ndiaye and their children. She returned to Florida to claim her inheritance, facing legal challenges from Kingsley’s sister, Martha. Ndiaye ultimately prevailed in court, securing ownership of the plantation.
Anna Madjiguène Ndiaye Kingsley died in 1870, leaving behind a legacy that extended through her descendants. Her great-great-granddaughter, Mary Kingsley Sammis, married Abraham Lincoln Lewis, who became the first African American millionaire in Florida. Their lineage includes prominent figures such as conservationist MaVynee Betsch and jazz musician John Betsch.
Today, the Kingsley Plantation is a National Park Service site, preserving the history of the plantation and the complex story of Anna Madjiguène Ndiaye. In Senegal, family members continue to share her story, ensuring that the memory of the princess who became a landowner endures.
