Gold Coast, Ashanti kingdom, Oh Ghana – Akwaaba

From Tema, to Accra to Kumasi is where I find my feet.

My best friend a vision in white, gliding down the aisle to meet her king.

Rewind to a couple of days before, all the girls, all obronis, trying to navigate the hustle and bustle of Kotoka international.

We step out into the sweltering heat, we taste the sun and we know we have arrived.

A flock of people surround us to lend a helping hand. But nothing is ever for free. 10 cedis later and we are on our way, it’s just the African way.

But no time to dwell, we have a wedding to prepare.

Spintex road is where we call home for a few days. A sprawling complex greets us with a gym and a pool. T.I.N.A! , we exclaim, Africans have come a long way.

Not even Dumsor can put out the light inside of us. Our excitement is igniting. We are finally here.

Months of planning and the Black Star is finally within our grasp.

We meet so many beautiful souls on our journey to the altar. It really does take a village to raise a child.

The calming nature and soft spoken tone of the Ghanaian people, contrasts vastly with our brisk English mettle.

The resilience of the market traders, trudging up and down in the unforgiving sun selling Bo fruit to Fanmilk feels me with awe.

One cedi later and Fanmilk in hand, I can’t help but feel guilty at the disparity of life. But on our way we go.

Sakumono is where the traditional wedding takes place.

Sakumono is where my friend becomes one.

Sakumono is where a part of me is lost.

Our Navy blue dresses surround her White – a bunch of Morning Glory’s protecting our seed.

1 wedding down and another one to go.

Our adventures take us to Kumasi, the climax of the whole affair, a metropolis seeped in rich history and wealth.

A quick trip to Manhiya palace and neighbouring markets quench our western desire to be immersed in culture.  Buy a dashiki here and there, buy a kente print bag here and there and now we are authentic Africans.

Now we are ready.

The big day finally arrives.

The hotel is a cacophony of sounds and shapes,

Makeup here and there, dresses everywhere.

We are late – no surprises there.

Wedding bells are ringing, to the altar we must go.

I take my place in line.

Nerves frayed. Deep breath. Smile, it’s her big day.

She is happy. They both are. This is meant to be.


She is home.

But where is home for me?

One thought on “ Ghana

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