I returned to NYC from Ghana a week ago and have been meaning to write about my experience(s) visiting the country. In fact, I made the decision to write about my trip before left Ghana but have been hesitant. I have found so many excuses to delay writing about it to allow more time for me to process all the stories, events and experiences that colored my visit to the country. Before starting to type, I looked at several unfinished documents that I could work on but I realized that if I do not write about my trip now, I probably never will and that would mean having to live with myself for not sharing what happened to me.
I had one of the worst if not the worst travel experience of my life. I was duped by a childhood associate, saw a police station more times than I have ever seen in my entire life and was unnecessarily targeted and profiled, all not what you would want to happen on a trip to your place of birth.The silver lining is that the experience(s) also taught me some of the best life lessons of all time. Anyone who knows me, knows I am very proud of my Ghanaian upbringing and will quickly tell you about my pride as a person born in Ghana. However, today I lament how betrayed, hurt and pained her people made me feel, how abundantly unwelcome I felt walking the streets of Ghana and how exorbitantly targeted I was made to feel each passing day. My experience during my visit this time around was a nightmare at best. For a long while, I have known of some imperfections of Ghana- its failed systems and its flawed and judgmental people- but had never experienced it to the degree I did this time around. My intensely personal experience during this trip has left me feeling rather hopeless and paramountly homeless.
Perhaps subconsciously my hesitation to write about my experiences while visiting Ghana is the fear of painting the country of my birth in a negative light. Perhaps I still do not want to believe how I feel about the country at the moment or perhaps, even worse, I am convinced that writing about it will do absolutely nothing to effect any change or make me feel any better. All this may come as a surprise to a lot of people as I did my very best during my visit to have a good time and did my best to highlight most of my positive experiences, however, when I was not posting on those positive experiences best believe there were other experiences. Do not get me wrong I did try to make the most of some of the happy moments and went to places that provided some peace, however, I hang desperately onto those things as a means of survival and not as a manifestation of any true happiness.
The year 2019 was dubbed the year of return for Ghana but I wonder who the invitation to return was extended to? I am wondering if it was for all, or just a certain group of black people who could only temporarily enrich the pockets of the country without any lasting values or impressions. Was there any room for someone like me, who was born and raised in Ghana but live elsewhere; someone who is now somewhat enlightened about who I am as an african and who has been forced to be a bit more aware about my history, something Ghana and her people never taught me to any significant depth. I was never taught to value my history, to love my culture and to embrace my features. I had to live in someone else’s land to learn about what my ancestors endured and the importance of never forgetting the sacrifices they made to maintain a culture and a value of a people who are eagerly working to kill the same. Am I allowed to return too?
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