Monday, September 05, 2005
Accra, Ghana
I met a man and his girlfriend while having a drink at a small bar in a suburb of Accra. The man talked of the glory days of Ghana with impassioned speech. I came to find out that he was a former diplomat who had traveled the world representing his country in the sixties and seventies. We talked of California until our conversation was interrupted by another woman who insisted that his attention should focus back to his girlfriend. I obliged to this cultural adaptation of male female relations. The girlfriend was a product of the younger generation who wasn't shy about expressing how she was hustling her way through school, like so many young women here do for extra income. As a young person it is extremely hard to get by, which is why so many of this generation are leaving for greener pastures in Europe and America.
Despite the age difference, their relationship was kind and affectionate. He spoke bitterly of the Western monetary institutions' responsibility for the poverty of Africa, while his girlfriend added her agreement and eloquently demonstrated her knowledge of world politics. He spoke of the former educational system, which produced so many bright minds a few generations ago and the current job market, which cannot support them, much less the new generation of workers. He also made jokes about his infidelity. "This beer is for my wife and girlfriend, may they never meet. And if they do, may there be peace" he said. "Don't tell my daddy I was here, he will kill me" she said. While I can't agree with their relationship on principle, they were both charming and I saw him as an honest man. He, along with a handful of other government ministers and representatives of the older generation, who had pride and didn't sell out to steal from the "development" coffers, are now living quite modestly. Meanwhile, today the papers reported that there is scandal in the current government about the President himself pilfering money to "develop" a tourist hotel on the beach. I ruminated over how a country that was once so wealthy could have sunk so low? I wondered if I would be doing the same thing as the young woman, if I was born a different life and was trying to educate myself here. She and I were about the same age and equally outspoken.
Knowing a little bit about the wealth of Ghana in the sixties and seventies gave a depth to the message of the concert that we attended in Independence Square, a concert against poverty. This imposing square was built by Ghana's first president, Kwame Nkrumah, to hold hundreds of thousands of people in rallies and celebrations. On the night of the concert, it held maybe 10% of its capacity, even though some of the biggest names in African music were performing. We had seen advertisements, banners and radio announcements for weeks leading up to the concert, but still, not many people showed up. Why? My guess is that they are too busy being poor. A local DJ tried to pump up the crowd by inciting chants of yelling phrases such as "NO TO POVERTY," but the crowd was not all that responsive. How can we just say no to poverty? Thankfully, the microphone was also handed to activists from as far as South Africa who spoke eloquently about the demands that the people of poor nations should present to their own leaders, as well as world leaders. Like fair trade, like economic justice, like debt reduction... big terms and concepts. I offered some screams to these words, even though I was one of the only ones to do so in the audience.
The message I understood from these experiences is that Ghana is not poor. It is a big sham to think so. All the raw materials to produce many of the medicinal and agricultural goods, all the gold to produce the all the jewelry that Elizabeth Taylor could want, all the water for hydroelectricity, all the workforce, is all right here. However, Ghana does not have economic independence and is forced to extract raw materials at the lowest price as a condition of unbalanced trade agreements and monetary restructuring schemes. The message of the concert was directed at people like me, which would explain the low turnout. We did see many of Accra's white people show up. As we sat with Rita (the Communications Director of Actionaid) in her organization's booth, she admitted that the concert was not really for the African audience, it was for Western audiences, who have the power to do something about the problems that poor nations face.
For fear of sounding too rhetorical, I will end this blog with a happy story. This week, I received my birthday present from my beautiful mother. She sent a plethora of medicines, herbs and vitamins to keep me healthy during the next phase of our trip. Knowing what she does about health and her immense power of prayer and healing energy, I am confident that I will stay as healthy as possible.
I met a man and his girlfriend while having a drink at a small bar in a suburb of Accra. The man talked of the glory days of Ghana with impassioned speech. I came to find out that he was a former diplomat who had traveled the world representing his country in the sixties and seventies. We talked of California until our conversation was interrupted by another woman who insisted that his attention should focus back to his girlfriend. I obliged to this cultural adaptation of male female relations. The girlfriend was a product of the younger generation who wasn't shy about expressing how she was hustling her way through school, like so many young women here do for extra income. As a young person it is extremely hard to get by, which is why so many of this generation are leaving for greener pastures in Europe and America.
Despite the age difference, their relationship was kind and affectionate. He spoke bitterly of the Western monetary institutions' responsibility for the poverty of Africa, while his girlfriend added her agreement and eloquently demonstrated her knowledge of world politics. He spoke of the former educational system, which produced so many bright minds a few generations ago and the current job market, which cannot support them, much less the new generation of workers. He also made jokes about his infidelity. "This beer is for my wife and girlfriend, may they never meet. And if they do, may there be peace" he said. "Don't tell my daddy I was here, he will kill me" she said. While I can't agree with their relationship on principle, they were both charming and I saw him as an honest man. He, along with a handful of other government ministers and representatives of the older generation, who had pride and didn't sell out to steal from the "development" coffers, are now living quite modestly. Meanwhile, today the papers reported that there is scandal in the current government about the President himself pilfering money to "develop" a tourist hotel on the beach. I ruminated over how a country that was once so wealthy could have sunk so low? I wondered if I would be doing the same thing as the young woman, if I was born a different life and was trying to educate myself here. She and I were about the same age and equally outspoken.
Knowing a little bit about the wealth of Ghana in the sixties and seventies gave a depth to the message of the concert that we attended in Independence Square, a concert against poverty. This imposing square was built by Ghana's first president, Kwame Nkrumah, to hold hundreds of thousands of people in rallies and celebrations. On the night of the concert, it held maybe 10% of its capacity, even though some of the biggest names in African music were performing. We had seen advertisements, banners and radio announcements for weeks leading up to the concert, but still, not many people showed up. Why? My guess is that they are too busy being poor. A local DJ tried to pump up the crowd by inciting chants of yelling phrases such as "NO TO POVERTY," but the crowd was not all that responsive. How can we just say no to poverty? Thankfully, the microphone was also handed to activists from as far as South Africa who spoke eloquently about the demands that the people of poor nations should present to their own leaders, as well as world leaders. Like fair trade, like economic justice, like debt reduction... big terms and concepts. I offered some screams to these words, even though I was one of the only ones to do so in the audience.
The message I understood from these experiences is that Ghana is not poor. It is a big sham to think so. All the raw materials to produce many of the medicinal and agricultural goods, all the gold to produce the all the jewelry that Elizabeth Taylor could want, all the water for hydroelectricity, all the workforce, is all right here. However, Ghana does not have economic independence and is forced to extract raw materials at the lowest price as a condition of unbalanced trade agreements and monetary restructuring schemes. The message of the concert was directed at people like me, which would explain the low turnout. We did see many of Accra's white people show up. As we sat with Rita (the Communications Director of Actionaid) in her organization's booth, she admitted that the concert was not really for the African audience, it was for Western audiences, who have the power to do something about the problems that poor nations face.
For fear of sounding too rhetorical, I will end this blog with a happy story. This week, I received my birthday present from my beautiful mother. She sent a plethora of medicines, herbs and vitamins to keep me healthy during the next phase of our trip. Knowing what she does about health and her immense power of prayer and healing energy, I am confident that I will stay as healthy as possible.
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