By Everett Cento
Wow. Just over six weeks ago, I boarded a plane to Accra with no idea what was in store for me. Now, sitting here at home, I’m looking back on the trip with a mix of gratitude, nostalgia, and disbelief at how quickly it all went by.
Most of my weekdays were spent in the buzzing newsroom at GHOne TV, where assignments came fast and changed without warning. I loved my time there. It had the perfect balance of fun conversations with co-workers and crunch time on assignments that kept me both happy and productive.
Outside of work, my life filled with routines I didn’t expect to love as much as I did. For the first week, everyone was so tired after work that my evenings were mostly quiet. But soon, fun activities started to creep into my schedule. Every Wednesday became salsa night. We went to a local bar, Afrikiko, and started learning line dances. At first, we just tried to mimic the main dancer’s steps, which, despite our best efforts, were very difficult. Still, we always tried our best. By the end, I had picked up some of the dances! It became something I looked forward to all week. It was a couple of hours of fun where nothing mattered except the music and the people moving alongside me.
The energy of dancing in a big group was infectious. It pulled you in until you forgot you were ever tired in the first place. Even on the longest workdays, salsa night had a way of hitting reset. I’d leave sweaty, smiling, and somehow lighter, like the week’s stress had been danced right out of me. The feelings of freedom, joy, and community that came from these nights were truly indescribable.
The weekends brought bigger adventures. Hiking Mount Afadjato, the tallest peak in Ghana, sounded easy until I realized “45 minutes to the top” meant 45 minutes of steep, burning climbs. My legs ached the whole way up, but there was an unspoken camaraderie in pushing through together. The view alone would’ve made it worth it, but the trip to the monkey sanctuary afterward sealed the deal. Having monkeys leap onto my shoulders and reach for bananas was over in seconds, yet it became one of my favorite moments of the entire trip. There was something about the surprise and trust in that interaction. The chance to have a brief, unfiltered connection with nature made it feel unforgettable.
Not every moment was easy. On my first day, a coworker joked about deporting me because “that’s what your country does to mine.” It was meant to be funny, but it landed heavy. Being in an unfamiliar place already has a way of putting you on edge, and suddenly I felt myself carrying the weight of decisions that weren’t mine.
It’s difficult to be judged for choices your country has made, especially when they’re choices you don’t agree with. Even so, those decisions still shape how others see you. It was an uncomfortable moment, but it also made me reckon with a perspective I might never have confronted at home.
When I think about Ghana now, I remember the noise, the color, the long evenings with friends, and the food at local spots with my coworkers. I remember the mix of challenge and joy, the little ways my perspective stretched, and the moments when unfamiliar spaces started to feel like they belonged to me, too.
I already miss it, but I’m carrying it with me. These weeks in Accra are part of who I am now, and the lessons they left behind will follow me into whatever comes next.