I don’t want to leave. That is all I can say.
There has been so much bad associated with my time in Ghana that if someone was listening to my stories, they would think that I couldn’t wait to return to the United States. That after our house was broken into twice within the first three weeks, having Uber drivers stalk me and other men grab me on the streets, you would think it was time to call it quits. But the opposite is true. Every night as I look out of the window observing the world around me, watching the passing people going on with their day and the way the light kisses the night sky, I just keep thinking to myself, how am I going to be able to board that plane Saturday?
So Ghana, this is not goodbye. This is an I will see you soon.
I fell in love when I was here. Six weeks is all it took to have my heart skip a beat every time I walked out of my apartment door. I fell in love with the rich customs that everyone follows. The Ghanian pride that never seems to be forgotten. The way children came up to me calling me auntie. However, ultimately it was the people I met here that stole my heart.
I found myself wandering a lot by myself, giving me the perfect opportunity to meet a variety of different people from all unique backgrounds. I befriended exchange students from other African countries who immediately welcomed me into their friend group. Other young people who I found myself walking around Jamestown and who I watched motorcycle races with, as we exchanged our life stories. Just two strangers caught together in a moment. I met people who told me they dreamed about America and others who feared it, with the few who had made a home in the U.S. before being deported under President Donald Trump’s immigration policies.
I came here to learn about journalism, but that may have been the least of my lessons learned here. There is no academic syllabus that could cover the lessons and experiences that I was gifted by the Ghanian and African people who I gracefully met along my journey. Everyone here let me into their life. Even if it was for a brief moment, they allowed me to experience and share so many precious moments with them. I was blessed to have stood beside Ghanaians during the African Cup, cheering their team beside them and sharing the moment of silence when the opposing team scored the winning PK. Getting the chance to attend heritage festivals and partake in the countries traditions. To having the sad opportunity to witness the issues Ghana faces with their politics and the racism and sexism that is still strongly present here.
It was the moments I shared with Ghanaians and the other African people that I met here that allowed me to learn so much. I met some truly incredible people that allowed me to see a part of the world I never knew about before. One of my friends would often tell me, “We are from two different worlds,” whenever we would hang out together as we tried explaining to each other our home towns. They taught me so much about the world around me. But it was also the pure beauty of a simple friendship I was blessed with. How people from different worlds can find themselves laughing together, instantly as they discuss Marvel movies and past failed relationships is amazing.
The United States feels like a world away. It is hard to remember the lifestyle that I once lived and the routine that I am expected to return to. It seems like a different life. There is no way I can return there without questioning everything that I was watching occur around me. Just the thought of the materialistic world that awaits me back in America is enough to make me feel already suffocated.
As my time is quickly running out, I keep trying to hold on every second possible. Holding onto every moment tightly, trying to never let it go. I keep my face pressed against vehicle windows, trying to snap a final mental picture of Accra. I never want to forget the people, the moments and journeys I have experienced here. Just one last look. One last attempt to hold onto that moment before having to say goodbye.
I am going to miss meeting random Ostriches as pets, the quick exchanges in Twi and the Fufu. God, how am I going to survive without my fufu?
Thank you, Ghana, to the people I met and the stories I listened to, thank you from the bottom of my heart. The lessons and stories you shared with me will not die behind. I will cherish them and spread them in the States. And I promise I will be back soon to learn more.
So Ghana, this is not goodbye. This is merely an I will see you soon. Till next our next Akwaaba back to the country that stole my heart.
