Yes I Know It’s Christmas, Bob Geldof.

Let’s Go Save Africa saving africa When I was younger, I remember telling my mum that I wanted to go and volunteer in some country like Cambodia or Haiti. Either that or I wanted to go work at the Osu Children’s Home. Ask me the first thing about those three places, then and now and I’m not going to be able to tell you. So why did I want to go and volunteer, if I know nothing, about these places? You could say that I felt some sort of complex concerning the people in those countries. In all honesty, I will say that it’s probably because I wanted to make my college application more attractive. I felt that by going there for 2 months or less, and paying to do so by the way, I could give them something that they were incapable of doing themselves. But I wonder who is to blame for that. Is it my fault that I felt this way towards them because all my life I had seen people come to Ghana and do the same thing? Heck I see Ghanaians do this every day when it comes to their National Service and they are posted to some village in the northern Region to teach. I see it all the time in TV series that I watch where there is some chick that falls in love with the stereotypical cringe-worthy doctor who is “curing starving African children of communicable diseases.” And their Skype calls always have to take place inside a tent because there are miraculously no huts or houses in the “rural areas.” Now I was reading a book once and all was fine and dandy until the girl started talking about a volunteer journalism trip she had to take to an African country. Kindly note that said country was never mentioned, just Africa. From that point onwards I bore*. And her boyfriend kept going on and on about how he was scared for her safety. The only reason I finished the book was so I could see what exactly it said about her “exceptional” articles from Africa. The irony of this blog post is not lost on me. The patronizing African volunteer. Lol. Earlier this week I came across this website through a blog post called “Humanitarians of Tinder.” Now Tinder is an online dating website. This website looks for people on Tinder who have display pictures of them in a foreign country (preferably a third world country) surrounded by the natives. You can find pictures like this:

Photo: TInder
Photo: Tinder

Now the highlight of some volunteers is taking a picture with the indigenous children. The hungrier and darker they look the better. It helps you the volunteer look like a saint anyway. Now the lighting has to be perfect, you want everybody on your Facebook timeline to know you have a big heart and that you care. Photo: Shuttershock And this attitude of the volunteer being better than the people they are helping is something present in schools. Schools are encouraging people to do volunteer work in “3rd world countries” when these students don’t care about the people in those countries. By sending teenagers to countries they are not really interested in, the volunteers might see it as them doing a service to the people rather than getting the opportunity to lend a helping hand. The volunteer might come in thinking that that briefing that they got about that area on paper is enough to help them understand the problems of the area and solve them. But it’s not. No paper can prepare you for the full reality on the ground. There are two steps to understand the reality on the ground:

  1. Shut up and
  2. Listen to the people

I was having prep this week when I came across the BandAid 30 song for Ebola “Do they know it’s Christmas”. I was furious for two reasons. Firstly some of my favourite musicians were in that song and that just made me lose respect for them. And secondly a simple song filled with people feeling self-satisfied and smiling just helps enforce the images that so many people try to break. For those that haven’t seen it, this is the video:

This song saddened me because I’m tired of people generalizing the whole of West Africa. Yes Seal that goes to you. I’m sad because as a result of this virus my parents are scared to bring me home for said Christmas because they are scared that I might not be allowed back into South Africa. I’m sad that you think that a remake of a 30 year old sad song is going to change the reality. Unfortunately this is a typical example of a “white-saviour” complex that I’m talking about. There is this impression that we are incapable of handling our own affairs. I’m ultimately sad that I still see nonsense like this every day.

I think this man forgot that a tattoo is permanent...
I think this man forgot that a tattoo is permanent…

Two African songs have come up targeting the virus and are aimed at educating the public. The first one was “Ebola in Town” which was released in May. The second was ‘Africa Stop Ebola’ which was released last month by Malian, Congolese, Ivorian and Guinean musicians They are done in French and English so that the people can understand what exactly the disease about. The only thing that your song does is to tug on the heart strings of people that are feeling guilty so after donating, they feel that they have worked to save “helpless African children.” With lyrics like this, what exactly do you expect?

“And the Christmas bells that ring there Are the clanging chimes of doom”

Bob Geldof I don’t need you to tell me that it’s Christmas. I am very aware of that fact. I own a calendar that tells me exactly what date it is if you care to know. You the volunteer go to that country to offer a service not to “save them”. You need that humbling interaction more than they need you. This post is not mean to condemn people that do this because I was also at fault at some point. All I want to say is that think critically before you go and volunteer as to why you are going there. If your head is filed with pre-conceptions and you feel as if they cannot survive without you, please do the people a favor and do not go at all.

Who Are You?

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First post of September! Whoop whoop!

Hi guys, this was written in a fake deep moment in the middle of class when nothing was happening. I hope that you take a moment to reflect on who you truly are.

This is not a question that gets answers like your name, or your country, or your church or your school but who you are as a person. Will you want to be your own friend? Are you true to yourself or just another one in the masses? A clone? In my school, one word that you hear a lot, and when I mean a lot I mean predicting the next word, is diversity.

It’s basically about the journey of self discovery.

So here it goes.

Whirling and twirling.

A lotus flower it seems,

A Venus fly trap it is.

 

Entices my poor emotions,

Only to trap them in its unforgiving jaws.

I tell myself that I am dynamic,

But am I really?

 

It seems to be tearing my covers down,

With excruciatingly painful slowness

Layer by thick layer.

 

But the question is,

After all my armor has been pulled down,

Am  truly ready to be vulnerable?

 

This was not part of my ABCs and 123s.

But an intro to the bittersweet reality.

After all the smiles and the hot and cold days,

Am I truly ready to see me as I am?

 

It’s like a model without her makeup.

Will I pull the wrapping paper off my gift

To see a rapidly corroding substance?

Or will I find a diamond?

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Summer Highlights: Chalewote 2014

It was amazing!

Akotowaa's avatarAkotowaa's Blog

My summer is coming to an end. I might as well blog about its highlights now, since I go to school on Saturday. The first one I’m blogging about is Chalewote 2014, which I attended on 23rd August. Chalewote is a Ghanaian street art festival, and it was my first time attending, since:

1. This year was the first I’ve heard of it (thanks, Owiredua), and

2. I didn’t have to be in school at the time of the event.

So! Pictures and captions. Let’s go!

Some of the beads, bookmarks, decorations and ornaments being sold Some of the beads, bookmarks, decorations and ornaments being sold A beads sale A beads and bracelets sale Little pendants for chains and bracelets etc, in Adinkra symbols and shapes. And they look so...ancient. LOL Little pendants for chains and bracelets etc, in Adinkra symbols and shapes. And they look so…ancient. LOL This represented the first stage of man: birth. Upon entering beyond the dark curtain... This represented the first stage of man: birth. Upon entering beyond the dark curtain… You would see a scene that represents death. There's an old woman buried with belongings, as is tradition... …You would see a scene that represents death. There’s an old woman buried with belongings, as is tradition…

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We Are Not Letters or Numbers.

Disclaimer: I do not support plagiarism in any way.

So this post was inspired by something on The RSVP Show, along with recent conversations with some of my close friends, which lead me to come to the conclusion that: No matter what your school and your family members tell you, you are not your results.

I know for sure that someone out there read the previous sentence, and like every Tom and Jerry Cartoon, his eyes bugged out to freakish proportions, and he started insulting me with a lot of enthusiasm. Don’t worry, I love you too ‘kay. :*

I know if said friend reads this, she will start jumping on her bed. Please don’t break it.

Since the seasons in Ghana are slightly different, I will call this time of the year results season. From July to August each year, the exam boards decide that they will make us spend our vacations biting our nails in anticipation and dreading the day our results are released. Or if you were a WASSCE student, dreading every day because they never told you the release date.

And how dare you imagine that your well meaning family members will provide you some respite. So basically your vacation sucks. Unless you’ve already gotten into a college that doesn’t require your results, then your situation is nice.

So the headteacher of Barrowford Primary School in the UK, handed her students this letter, in addition to their results. Urm, however a quick Google Search revealed that the letter was stolen from an unknown school in the US, after it was posted on a blog. Pretty ironic and way to set an example… *scratches head*

But my focus is on the content, so here it goes:

Results

Our schools may yammer on and on about examining based on multiple intelligences, but let’s face it, very few practice what they preach. What I’m trying to say is, and this is borrowed from a family member of mine, “No one writes an exam with the intention to fail.” Well there are some people who actually plan to do that, but they are pretty special. Please clap for yourself if you fall into that category.

You the person reading this probably falls into the former category. No matter how long you stayed up for, there is always that probability that you will fail. There is a probability that all the blood that the mosquitoes borrowed stole from you may be in vain. If that sheet appears in front of you, and it is not what you wanted, please keep it in mind that it does not in any way mean that you are inferior.

I will draw from the cliché examples of Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, who defied the status quo. Now let me be the devil’s advocate and burst your Utopian Bubble. You can’t just sit on your bum and twiddle your thumbs and give this as an example. I sure as hell don’t know them personally but I can tell that they busted their asses to get to where they got to.

Ok, I’ve disturbed you enough. All I’m saying is that, I think you can still achieve your dreams even if your grades attempt tell you the opposite. I hope you have an amazing day.

P.S. If your grades are not what you wanted and you have typical African parents, please transform into the ideal child for the next few weeks and avoid most interactions with the parental unit. Good luck to you.

What is Love?

 What is love

What is love?
From the moment I popped out of my mother’s womb,
I was told I was loved.
Well I thought it’s my mother it’s her job.

All around me songs were sung about love.
If said musicians were so in love,
Why did they break up every day?
If there was so much love,
Why are there wars?
If there is so much love,
Why are there people on the streets?

But what do I know?
I’m just a kid I am told.
I have barely reached the stage where I make decisions I am whispered to.
My vocalisations are pulled down as being childish dreams,
Things to be ignored and brushed aside.

Is love what I saw in the telenovelas,
Which I was instructed not to watch but always ignored,
Where the man with dark locks swept that woman into the night and made love to her all night?
Or is it when that little boy gave his valentine a piece of chocolate crushed in his sweaty palm,
Hoping his rejection would not be the story of the day?
Or is love when your grandparents finish each other’s sentences and look at each other like they are the only people in the world?

What is love?
I’m just a kid,
I really don’t know.

Sent from my iPad