Sometimes I sit down and wonder how I would actually survive if I left Ghana to go and live abroad.
Growing up, it felt like the ultimate dream for almost everyone to go to school in Europe or somewhere “overseas.” It was almost like that was the finish line of success. And yes, I had that dream too. I imagined the big cities, the opportunities, the “greener pastures” everyone talks about.
But the older I get, the more I start asking myself one simple question: how exactly will I survive there?
First of all… the food.
Tell me how I’m supposed to wake up one morning and not have access to proper Ghanaian food. No wakye, no waakye with the gari and shito combo, no banku and tilapia, no fufu with light soup, no kenkey with pepper and fish, no jollof on a random Sunday afternoon, no kelewele by the roadside at night.
Ah.
Food alone will humble me.
At least if I moved to another African country, I could probably relate to the food somehow. But the “white man’s land”? Hmm… it just feels a bit awkward to imagine. Something about Africa especially Ghana just feels homey in a way that’s hard to explain.
In Ghana you can literally step outside your house and end up in a full conversation with a stranger. You can greet someone at the trotro station and before you know it you’re both talking about the economy, football, and somebody’s uncle who lives in Tema.
The vibe here is different.
The fun is different.
There’s a kind of warmth in the way Ghanaians live life. We laugh loudly. We tease each other. We make jokes out of almost everything.
Even when you’re having a bad day in Ghana, all you need is your phone and internet. Just open X (Twitter) and your whole mood will change. The drama alone can carry you through the day. One trending topic and the whole country becomes comedians.
And please… tell me how I’m supposed to randomly strike up a conversation with a kofi brokeman seller abroad? Or buy pure water for 50 pesewas and start chatting with the person selling it like you’ve known them for years?
Those small small interactions are part of what makes Ghana beautiful.
And the jokes too proper African humor. Not those “knock knock, who’s there” type of jokes. Our jokes come with expressions, hand gestures, sound effects… everything.
Sometimes I really wonder how people managed to make Africans feel inferior back then.
Because when I look around me now, I see something different. I see culture. I see resilience. I see creativity. I see community.
I see people who can turn the smallest moments into joy.
Honestly, I’m proud to be African.
And even more proud to be Ghanaian.
There’s something special about us.
And if you ask me, we are truly Black excellence.
Ubuntu Essence 