I feel like I’m always apologizing for something here now lol. I’m on break, but haven’t had internet for about a week and so I apologize for you not hearing more from me, even though I’ve had a lot of time on my hands. Christmas in Ghana for me is really just higher level socializing, networking and relaxation. No complaints here.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
2012 needs to be a big one for me. Graduation, job prospects, decisions waiting to be made and so much more. The thought that I have no clue where I will be in say, October 2012, frightens me… very much. I also turn a very frightening age NEXT MONTH. Like, I never thought I’d be turning this age, at least not for a while. I certainly don’t feel that age. I’m panicking just thinking about the number… and what comes after it, and what comes after that… Jesus. But anyway, I’m going to try not to panic, and take things a day at a time.
On to the post. (oops, yes, sorry, that was all just a few words saying hello, and stuff)
I had a conversation with my nice friend, Jake, a while back. It was humorous for the most part, but it really made me think. We were talking about, and describing ‘The Ghanaian Dream.’ Or at least, our idea of it. It popped into my head this morning and made me laugh, so I thought I’d share :)
First of all, The Ghanaian Dream takes place in Accra, and only Accra. You may have some sort of leeway in Kumasi, if you have a home in Asokwa, or Ahodwo, but even that, is an Ashanti Dream. The proper Ghanaian Dream happens in Accra. And not just any kind of Accra, mind you. It can’t take place in Western Accra. No Lartebiokorshies or Mamprobis invited. Think big. Think East, think North. Labone, Roman Ridge, Cantoments, East and West Legon, Airport, Airport Hills…yup.
You must own a story-building. If you own a one floor building, it must be a very beautiful one with a large compound that makes up for its lack of staircases. The gate needs to be large and intimidating, and there needs to be a security guard present at all times. He doesn’t live The Dream, but he exists to make sure yours unfolds flawlessly. The house itself has several bedrooms, anywhere from four to twelve is fine. Because you know, yes, you have three children, but your extended family from England and America visits you twice each year, and the extra space is a Godsend. You live with a Yaa or an Abena or a Mavis, whose job it is to see to it that your laundry transitions from piles on your bathroom floor into stacks in your walk-in closet through a perfectly undetectable process. She would cook too, but there is a chef for that, so she helps him by chopping his veggies and passing him a utensil here and there. Your garden is impeccable, and your pool exists even though you never use it.
Your three kids go to a school that is most likely abbreviated into three letters, and has an international curriculum and students from all over the world. You have as many cars as there are people in your home, yet, only half that number possesses a license. In fact, the day you knew for sure that you lived The Ghanaian Dream, was the day processions of people from your church began to arrive at your house and request use of one of your cushy vehicles for their son’s wedding convoy. Those requests haven’t stopped since, and you don’t mind it. After all, you delight in giving back to the community. Not all will see the interior of a Range Rover in their lifetime, and if it falls upon you to facilitate the experience, who are you to decline? It is the Lord’s work.
Even though you sound privileged and spoiled, you really are not. You are deserving because you worked for it. Well, either you worked for it or you too, were born into a household which predisposed you to a path leading to The Dream. You do the right thing, you go to church, you make sure your children receive the best education, you give alms, you send money home to your village every month, and you manage to juggle all these without cracking your iPad 2 screen.
You love Ghana, you see, there is a lot of money to be made here. There is so much potential, but you see, the people’s attitudes are the problem, eh, they are not serious. The unprofessionalism is at an all time high, you say. People are lazy, they are not punctual, their work ethic is poor, corruption is everywhere, people want something for nothing. You and your friends have these conversations often, over beers at Rhapsody’s, while berating the self-appointed ‘parking lot attendant’ who feels entitled to 1 Cedi for his efforts.
The money can be put to better use; your kids need to take their annual Summer vacation, because Ghana is hot and dusty, and there is still no McDonald’s here. What will they wear to school in September when all their friends are back and smelling like Yankee with their Yankee shoes and Yankee gum and pencil cases? No ma’am, their friends need to know that they come from a Good Home. That they too live The Dream. And of cooourse they can come swimming on Saturday afternoon. It’ll be fun as always. Your chef will cook, and their driver will drop them off.
* disclaimer: sarcasm fully intended, social commentary sold separately
