A Unique Perspective on Life in Ghana
Ghana is a country known for its rich cultural heritage, vibrant communities, and deep sense of togetherness. One of the most intriguing aspects of life in this West African nation is the way people interact with one another, often through humor, shared experiences, and an unshakable sense of community. While opinions may vary on where the best places to raise children are, many would agree that cities like Takoradi and Kumasi offer unique opportunities for growth and development.
In my experience, growing up in Kisseman was an adventure filled with laughter, camaraderie, and a certain kind of innocence that you don’t find anywhere else. There was a time when a friend could punch you in the face and still be smiling, and you’d end up laughing and shaking hands with them in joy. It wasn’t an assault—it was just part of the fun. This kind of interaction is rare in more structured environments, such as Cantonments, where the atmosphere tends to be more reserved and less playful.
If your house is near a KVIP, you better get used to the smell. It's not something you can easily ignore, but it's also a part of life. I'm not talking about your house—this is for the men. Whenever there seems to be a particular scent or a “cream-flavored stench,” those are the places we tend to gravitate toward, sometimes even with our mouths open! Chai! Men?
There’s something about the environment that makes us curious, almost instinctively drawn to it. Male goats, for instance, know how to approach these situations. They first sniff the air, lift their nostrils in excitement, and then proceed with confidence. This is what they call environmental scanning, and it’s a lesson we could all learn from.
A Personal Connection to Music and Memory
One of the most memorable events in my life was attending the one-week night vigil of the late Daddy Lumba, a legendary figure in Ghanaian music. I went because of a connection that dates back to 1994, a year that marked a significant moment in my life. On May 1st, 1994, my father was admitted to the hospital. We spent the evening with him, and he was in good spirits, even sharing jokes with us. On our way back from the 37 trotro station, the driver kept playing Daddy Lumba’s song “Odo beba na mewu.” The cassette was played repeatedly, and I remember enjoying the part where DL translated the chorus into Ewe. That moment left a lasting impression on me.
The following morning, we returned to the hospital, only to be told that my father had passed away. Was Lumba a prophet of realities? I can't say for sure, but hearing his song always brings back a flood of emotions. I can imagine other communities, like the Katangees, Vandals, and Casfordians, holding their own vigils in honor of Lumba. It would take at least 300,000 police officers to manage such events if the Aboagyewaa boys joined in. But this is just my imagination—after all, don’t we all love Lumba?
The Power of Music and Cultural Unity
I attended the vigil at Independence Square, and what I saw there was unforgettable. Never go to such places alone, but if you do, and you see someone dancing and clapping after every step, it might not be because they're a great dancer or enjoying the song. It could be that they’re learning or trying to cover up their lack of skill by clapping to deceive themselves. I’ve had my fill of dancing for now.
On the morning of that fateful Saturday, I was listening to my friends, the “Weekend Doctors” on Joy! I couldn’t help laughing when I heard the corrupted version of Daddy Lumba’s 1992 Gospel song “Enye Nyame den.” Instead of “Nothing is too hard for God,” it became “Shati badi…shatii baadi…” which actually means “Shout about it!” Thanks for the education, everyone!
It reminded me of the songs we used to sing as kids, like “Sambeyi—we are going home, summer holiday…do you want to go with us? Going to London…Adabraka boys and girls!” We used to spoil songs without thinking twice, and it wasn’t our fault. Back then, we didn’t have Google to check lyrics, so we just went with what we knew.
Family, Humor, and Cultural Identity
My niece recently taught me something valuable. She used to say “excuse me” whenever she sneezed in front of others. After teaching her what to do in such situations, I sneezed myself, and she automatically responded with “excuse me.” It was a small moment, but it showed how much children can learn from us.
Ghanaians love each other regardless of tribe, and I’ve always believed that the Ashantis are some of the most ethnocentrically tolerant people in the country. They take jokes without feeling offended and even join in on the laughter. I lived, ate, studied, and shared jokes with them, and these are matters of fact.
Daddy Lumba was an Ashanti who sang in Ewe, showing that he loved all. Through his music, he united us. In a marketing class almost two decades ago, I proposed an idea about how Glow should be launched in Kumasi, suggesting that the signboards should read “Grow” so that when people changed it to “Glow,” it would sound right. My friend Kofi Adomanko, a Kumasi boy, countered with a brilliant idea for Keta, suggesting “Aglow” so that the locals would remove the “A” and leave it as “Glow.”
Ghana is a beautiful place where we make fun of each other and coexist peacefully. My numerous girlfriends come from different tribes—Frafra, Ashanti, Bono, Nzema, Ahanta, Ga, Ada, Ningo, Builsa, Wala, and Nsaba. They gave me a balanced diet, both literally and metaphorically. After all, it's only the manhood of a man that can take him to the land of the unknown.
A Final Farewell to a Legend
Daddy Lumba’s passing has shown the world that Ghanaians love each other regardless of our differences. On this “shati badi” note, may his gentle soul rest in perfect peace. Daddy Lumba, bye byeeeeeeee! Xede nyuieeee, Efo DL.