Wednesday, March 28, 2007

March 28th, 2007

I didn’t sleep well last night. I was wished sweet dreams and told to have a blessed rest, but I mostly tossed’n’turned.

My mind was going through more thoughts than I could wield. My intent was to rest, but the searchlight of my consciousness was glancing over every area of my life.

The anticipation must have got to me. It happens to me sometimes: used to happen on Christmas Eve, starting a new job, and the first time I was invited to speak at a Sunday service.

In thirty minutes I will be heading to the airport, and it all has not really sunk in. How do I begin to describe how greatly I treasure having been in Ghana. The country has a place in my heart. I can’t imagine living too long without going back there. It truly was a step of destiny.

But home is everywhere. Moreso, home is where you are supposed to be at a given time. That’s why I feel peace, because I am where I am supposed to be. The challenge is continuing to go where I am supposed to go (by God’s grace, and no other way!).

My eyes have been touched and I see more vision. My heart has been expanded. I now take steps into the next level and next chapter of my purpose. The love of family and friends has me excited about landing in Toronto.

I am careful to say that I am not going back though. It’s not ‘back to Toronto’. I am moving forward, and Toronto is in the next steps before me on the path of life where walking is ordered by the Lord.
So, off I go to TO – excited about seeing everyone!
A Chapter Closes: Thank You JHR

It has been twelve days since I lifted off from Accra and landed in London. While the UK has been great, and I am excited about heading to Toronto, I miss Ghana.

In early July, 2006, I attended a week long training with the rest of the JHR group that was headed to Ghana. At some point over those five days it became clear to me that I would be gaining more than I could give, receiving more than I could share, and I would be taught more than I could ever teach.

Now that my eight month placement has come to a close, my reflections on that life changing opportunity continually confirm that premonition. I have been filled with an inner treasure, and I have been shaped and nurtured in ways that just would not have happened had I not been to Ghana.

I think of staying with Razak, the GM of Radio Justice, and him insisting I sleep in his bed. The work with Layata, the growth and the challenges. Somed’s enthusiasm for advancing a career still makes me smile – he definitely kept me on my toes. And Ramadan…he truly is a storyteller.

Not only did I get the chance to work at Radio Justice in Tamale, but I also had a few months to break the ice, as the first placement at the University of Ghana, Radio Universe.

Being in the volunteer-led, student-run environment brought twists and turns that I had not experienced in Tamale.

I think of Franklyn and our first stories together, Elvis and trying to arrange workshops, Ophelia, Mina, Priscilla, Isaac and so many personalities that became familiar faces.

All that said, I face one very critical issue of the accomplishment of ideals and goals of JHR. When read on paper, they make sense. This is the mission statement:

In the spirit of Article 19 of the Universal Human Rights Declaration, Journalists for Human Rights (JHR) is dedicated to increasing the quality and quantity of human rights reporting in the African media. As a result of this work, the African public will be made more aware of their rights, improving peace and security and strengthening the democratisation process. By limiting JHR's presence in any one country to five years, it hopes to have a sustainable and enduring impact without creating dependency.

That is why I applied. I have not ever been interested in the business of NGO’s, which can build careers on dependency – that’s why the goal that JHR exit countries after five years appealed to me.

I won’t outline all of the responsibilities that I had, nor will I list the accomplishments and challenges. If you read the posts that I have put up, or the posts that everyone else has written, you can see those in greater depth than could be offered here.

Instead, I will share are two things: what I learned was needed for my JHR placement to work, and the key ingredient that was present when it did work.
To answer the first point, about what it took to make things work, I can summarize it in one statement – “find a way”. Persistence (‘find a way’), flexibility (‘find a way’), and creativity (‘find a way’).

The second point, about when it did work, was when we got to the human side of it. Terms like democratisation, human rights, media accountability, freedom and justice are all dependent on one thing: people caring about people.

Whether it was getting stories done, encouraging staff in their commitment to the issues, or holding successful workshops, I always saw success when one person saw past the work, and got to that place of simply caring about someone else. That’s why the marriage of human rights and journalism holds such immense potential; when stories are told that connect the heart of the listener to issues that may or may not be a part of their own reality, and that story is broadcast to thousands, people begin to care more. It’s only when people care, when they become personally invested, that the idealistic concepts previously listed become reality.

While Ghana was good to me, and I feel like I have been given so much, I can say that I also had an impact. There are moments that I can see in my heart where we got past the routines, and connected to something deeper, stirring change. There are people and places that are no longer the same. While the goals of JHR are mountainous in proportion, we only get to the summit one step at a time; I am grateful to have taken a few of those steps.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Cambridge Photos

























































































Brighton Photos


















My Great Aunite Anne who also loves the ocean is looking out into the water with me. She is so much like her sister, my Granny P!


















Walking along the pier with Francis and Auntie Anne.

















The old pier that fell down before they could decide where the money was coming from to fix it.




















A famous hotel where the IRA tried to blow up Margaret Thatcher.

















Along the beach after dinner.
THE DAY IN BRIGHTON



















Sitting in the stones along the beach after I had just stepped into the English Channel.

















Well, their was no fish'n'chips, not rowdy football fans, and Liverpool is playing Arsenal on Saturday, but I had my pint of Guiness in an English pub called The Cricketers.


















Posing infront of the Royal Pavillion frequented by Queen Victoria in her era.

















On the pier with what was the most beautiful weather of my twelve days in the UK.







The ocean always speaks to me when I am near it; that's me just listening.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Good Morning,

Today, there are only a few days left until I am in Toronto. With some friends meeting me at the airport, and my family expecting my return, there is a tide of excitement pulling inside my heart.

The past year has been incredible. My vision for my life has been expanded. I see myself as a citizen of the globe that was born and raised in Canada, rather than a Canadian. Ghana has been home to me. So has BC, Scarborough, the beaches and Richmond Hill. I remember after a visit to New York at the age of thirteen, that the Big Apple would be my home in my professional career. As for where I will live, I see Canada as a base; however, I see myself traveling and working around the globe.

There is much more that can be said about the past year, but the main thought on my mind right now is focus. There are so many avenues and possibilities in every dimension of life, yet I have come to see the tremendous value in being focused (which is being able to say 'no' to a good idea), and to give your all to your destiny.

This particular day, it is quite sunny and much warmer than it has been. I plan to mostly relax today, and I will be going to help Cheryce get some groceries. In the evening I will be going back to Auntie Joanne and Uncle Tony, and heading to meet some more family near the southern coast. While there are numerous sights that I have not seen, I plan to just relax on Wednesday (though that is difficult for me to do - the allure of the city is strong).

So, "two more sleeps" until I'm back. While I'll be back, it's not to the same things. New and big ventures on the horizon.

All the best,
Chris

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Getting Around


It was a great weekend.

After a week of hanging out with Mawulom and staying with Auntie Joanne and Uncle Tony, I was off for a weekend away.

My first stop was to meet my cousin Giles and his family. He lives with Cynthia and their three children (Aisha, Jay and Miranda). Jay and Miranda are twins, almost two years old, and Aisha is about to turn five.

After seeing Mawulom off for her venture to New York, I followed the detailed instructions (that she had printed out, adding notes to the map) to Peckham Rye, and headed to Giles’ house. Being at Peckham Rye was cool as it really reminded me of Eglington West.

Getting to there took about two hours, but once again, I made it through the intricate system of the London Underground (greatly due to the assistance of kind Londoners pointing me in the right direction).

That evening we had a really nice fish dinner and desert of rice pudding. The children didn’t all eat that much as Aisha was shy of me, and the twins are just rambunctious. After dinner, Giles showed me a bunch of the records in his collection. He DJ’s on the side, mostly on Saturday nights. He mixes up jazz, funk, disco, hip hop, pop and house.

Cynthia and I also had a good conversation as her family is from Ghana. She actually hasn’t been there in ten years, and was born in England, but we spoke about it a bit.

Once the children were getting ready for bed, Giles and I headed out to a local spot that he wanted to take me to. The name of the place was ‘Liquorish’, and was a trendy bar/club sort of place; not very big, and mostly people sitting talking over a drink, rather than dancing. The DJ was playing a mixture from Common to Micheal Jackson. We sat with a beer (I can’t really drink more than one), and then headed back to the house.

It was really interesting for me to meet Giles, as I was able to see elements of where my life could be. He is a nice guy, and their hospitality was great; he has his family, his work and his interests, but there is such a difference that really setting your life aside for God makes. When we live after our own interests and attractions, rather than seeking the highest will for our destiny, things can go in such a different direction.

The next morning, I was off to meet with Cheryce and Jospeh. I know Cheryce from York, and her wedding to Jospeh was the first time that one of my friends was married. The weekend of their wedding was actually a life changing moment, as Friday was the marriage and then Saturday was the funeral for Dudley.

That was September of 2003. Three and a half years later, I met with Cheryce as I climbed up the stairs of the underground station. As we got to talking, her British accent was making me smile, as she didn’t have one back in Toronto!

At the house, I was happy to see Joseph and their incredibly beautiful daughter, Olivia (7 months). Together, we packed up ourselves and headed downtown to the British Musuem. The sights of the London downtown (on the way to their house and on the way to the museum) have inspired a desire to visit London again during warmer months to see the many amazing attractions that the city offers.

















Olivia: She is a blessing and sweetness in the flesh!


Feeling hungry, we went for a lunch of fish’n’chips before taking on the many exhibits that this elite museum offers.

The first sight that we came across was the Rosetta Stone. It is a tablet that has Egyptian hieroglyphics with Greek and one other translation together. It was this stone, stolen by the French, then captured by the British, that after twenty-five years, led to the cracking of the hieroglyphic system of writing.

From there, we passed through exhibits on Assyria, Rome, Greece, the Americas, Africa, and the Enlightenment.

One detail that I have to share is that the entrance of the museum had a special exhibit on Ghana titled “The Fabric of a Nation”. To my sheer delight and excitement, they had a print from Radio Justice…in the British Museum…what are the chances of that!!!

We also attended a very moving art exhbit titled “La Bouche Du Roi” by Romuald Hazoumé. The display was set up to commerate the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade, which occurred 200 years ago today (March 25th, 1807). Hozoumé is from Benin, and ‘La Bouche Du Roi’ is a place on the coast where the currents switches from a fresh water river pouring into the ocean, to the salty ocean pushing up the river. It is symbolic of a dual exchange.

The art used a number of gas canisters, some with small beads and trinkets attached to them, and arranged them in the shape of the diagram of the cargo hold of ships used to carry those sold and bought into bondage across the Atlantic Ocean.











The presentataion mixed viedeo, audio and photography with the dimly lit rim. Stirring in me were memories of Ghana and Senegal, thoughts of the dialogue I have been hearing and reading about the 200th anniversary of abolition (Canada pretending it is not a part of our history and England, in a lot of cases, aware, but not very concerned).

Hazoumé stated, “We knew where we were from, but we didn’t know where we were going. Now we don’t know where we are going or where we are from”, adding, “I am dangerous, because I know where I am from”.

Seeing the spectacular arrangement of works form around the world in the Enlightment section, the pieces of Egyptian monuments, and the range of art spanning the African continent had me in a place of reflection summed up in the words, ‘the things that people do’.

Slavery. Worship. Art. Conquering, robbing, pillaging. Love. Learning and searching. Warring and killing. Building. It is overwhelming.

The jewels, the paintings, the globes, the carvings, the scripts…it is remarkable.

In the evening we attended a baptism for four people (including Jospeh’s nephew). There were also three young women, one of whom I have never met, but I kept thinking that I knew her. There was something so familiar about her, but I still haven’t fully placed it.

When we got back to the house, it was bun’n’cheese and mint tea that we purchased from a place called Lloyd’s.

In the morning, we went to church again, where Joseph was the overseeing pastor for the day, though he is usually the assistant pastor. I was called on to give the church a testimony as I was introduced as a visitor, which went well. One older lady was flirting with me, and kept telling me that I am handsome.

On the way home, just before we pulled into the neighbourhood, I saw someone grab someone else by the hair and slam their head into a bus shelter. I told Joseph what I had seen and we turned around. When we got closer, we could see that the violence was not man to man, but man on woman. The two looked quite run down, and seemed to have the air of drug addiction about them. I know it sounds sketchy (like what does ‘the air of drug addiction’ look like?, but when you see it a lot, you can tell). Rather than approach them, as the man was attempting to hug and kiss the woman he had just assaulted, we were going to call the police. Soon, sirens began to blare and police showed up, as someone else had already called. After speaking with an officer, I made a statement about what I had seen.

Once we got back to the house, we had a lunch to remember. Curry goat, lasagne, chicken, rice’n’peas, veggies and strudel with custard for desert. I was supposed to go back to Auntie Joanne’s and Uncle Tony’s in the evening, but watching a DVD turned into falling asleep, turned into a nap, turned into a full out sleep – I guess the week caught up with me.

I have to say also that doing my part to hold Olivia, help feed her, or keep her amused as been so warming to my heart.

So now, there are three days until I am back in Toronto. It has been wonderful being here in London, as my family and friends have been AMAZING to me. I could not have expected such great hosts. The anticipation of Toronto is also exciting me. I hope to do a bit more sight-seeing, as well as relaxing before I head to the airport on Wednesday afternoon.

P.S.
Grandma, glad to know you are doing better!

P.S.S.
To all my friends and family in Ghana and in Toronto, I miss you all so much, and wish I could have a week long international version of my annual bbq to get everyone together!

P.S.
Raptors are now third in the east, eigth overall, and making a strong run towards the playoffs.









Friday, March 23, 2007

YASMIN

During our touring around London yesterday, we often took advantage of the double decker buses to see downtown London. Two times in a row, we headed to the top level and found a pair of seats at the very front open for us – ‘the best seats in the house’. In both cases, soon after we had boarded, something that we saw on the street prompted us to get up from our great spots and take to foot.

One of the sights that got us down was the Royal Academy of the the Arts, which is a space shared by the Astronomical Society. Having a great interest in both art and astronomy (I love when people look at life as being bigger than just the earth…with billions of stars in this universe…even more), I wanted to see those buildings.

However, before we had gotten to our destination, I noticed a sight that I had never seen before. Sitting in front of the Ritz Hotel, on the side of the road, was a young woman wearing a hijab with a cup in her hand, begging for money.

I noted her presence to Mawulom, and we crossed the street as she inquired of me, “they don’t beg”. I couldn’t say that muslim women never beg, it was just something that I had never seen before. Though we had crossed the street and were about to board the bus, my heart was still stuck on this young woman. I asked Mawulom if she could wait a moment while I crossed the street to speak to the young woman.

I pulled out a two pound coin, and after darting through the traffic, I said ‘hi’ and I placed it in her cup. I then crouched beside her and asked a question, that in hindsight wasn’t so bright’ “is everything alright?”. What I meant really was that I cared about what she was going through.

The first thing that she said to me was, “I don’t have my papers”. She told me that her name is Yasmin and that she is from Bosnia. I told her that my name is Chris and that I’m from Canada.

I didn’t know what else I could do for her, but – looking back on the situation – I see that it was important to me that I gave her something so she could get something to eat, and that I encouraged her a little bit. We spoke for a little bit about prayer, and I told her that I would be praying for her.

After saying ‘bye’ I cut through the traffic again and met with Mawulom at the bus stop. I explained to her that sometimes, I will feel a call on my heart to go and speak with someone.

Throughout the day, she came back to my thoughts. Last night, before I went to sleep I remembered her in prayer; I hope that she finds her way.
















One of my favourites buildings in London, the Royal Albert Hall (I think that's what it's called) where the only perosn that is allowed to wear a hat is the Queen.























A monument in Hyde Park - not sure if the gold is real.


















Standing at the edge of London Bridge.






















Mawulom at the entrance to the London Tower; it looks like it was actually warm.







The tower bridge and the River Thames in the background.
English Rose

After one early spring day in London,
The kind that has the after taste of winter,
I now see why roses grow in England.

Their leaves are hard.
Their tough stems are like frozen rope –
Almost wood.
Their thorns come from an attitude –
A willingness to fight.
Their buds are solid
– Like living stones –
Until the moment they let go
And blossom;
Unfolding their softness, even to the cold,
The dreams of sunshine made real
Offering the ungraspable
In petals that can be touched, plucked
And rubbed against your cheek,
Offering a scent
Originating from the diamond in a sparkling dewdrop.

This flower patched onto the chest of rugby players.
Climbing the bricks of an empire,
In it’s birth, in it’s glory, and in it’s shadow.
Gracing vases on tables,
Echoing paintings painted more often than we know.
Scattered before the steps of the newly wedded.
Laid at gravestones.
Carved into the crevices of stone cathedrals.
And sprinkled onto bed sheets.

Looking into the warm promises and chilly reminders that spring in London speak
I can see why roses grow in England.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Being in London is another blessing on what has been an amazing journey.

Thinking of having gone straight from Ghana to Toronto, and seeing how this time in England has allowed a tranistion period, I give thanks for being here!

The journey began with Mawulom meeting me at the airport and helping me to find my Uncle John. With Uncle John I got to see a lot of the countryside, including Cambridge. This week though, I have been staying with Auntie Joanne and Uncle Tony (as well as young Kerys). I mostly spend the morning and the evening with them, and I have been going around London with Mawulom during the days.

While I am doing well in adjusting to the cold (wearing zix layers, without exageration), I have not gone around London as much as I might have in summer. Even still, we walked quite a lot and have seen a number of sights. The Tower Bridge, the Princess Di Memorial, some museums, art galleries, and many major landmarks have been included in our touring. I saw London Bridge...it is really not impressive at all. I was saying, when I say it, 'this is thebridge that the song is about?'. They should call Tower Bridge London Bridge - it is by far more notable.

Still need to do the London Eye, the British Museum, and Big Ben (my Dad used to call me Little Ben because I would always remind of the time we were supposed to be home and how long we had left before we would be late). I also really want to see the southern coast and to sit in a pub with a plate of fish'n'chips and a mug of Guiness watching a football match with some rowdy fans.

For the weekend, I will see Mawulom off for her trip to New York, stay by Giles and Cynthia (more family that I will be meeting), then staying with Cheryce and Joseph (friends I know from TO) before coming back to my base out near Kenley.

Before I go, I have to say that Auntie Joanne and Uncle Tony have been so gracious to me. I could not ask for such hospitality. And Grandma - love you, stay strong, get better - we are praying for you!

Wednesday, March 21, 2007





















The boys down the block posing for a photo.

















Bojo beach on my last day at the ocean.

















Independence arch (J.J. Rawlings flw a jet through that arch after one of the coups)

















At Orgle Road with Bella,Thelma and Bella's neice.






















T-Block...home sweet home.

















Up in Cambridge; it lives up to the rep.






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































A towering tree in Ghana!



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































A drive through Enfield Town.




















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































50th anniversary celebrations: the red, the gold and the green - and so many Black Stars.






































































































































































































The prayer and intercessory team at Ridge Church: big things for you all!


























































































Nuri-Haque and I at the beach...Miss you Bro.

















































































Chillin' at the beach with my homeboy Nuru aka Nuri-Haque aka Bush Doctor
































































































The inner court of Kings College at Cambridge...looks warmer than it really is.




























Tuesday, March 20, 2007

SO FAR, SO COUNTRY!

After an all night flight from Accra, and going out the following evening, I was due for a sleep in. I did not wake up until 11am, but I enjoyed the rest in the brightly lit, lilac wall papered guest room at Uncle John’s place.

Knowing that I am interested in music (Granny P let him know that), he had suggested that we go out into the country to the Organ Theatre. I agreed to go, not sure what it was, but I was happy to go with his enthusiasm.

So, we drove through the rolling hills of the English country side. That may sound like a clich̩, but clich̩s are often clich̩s because they are true Рthe countryside really is full of rolling hills. The solid green of the fields of grass before my eyes, the country homes and old stone farms, the fences made of rocks and mortar, and the mostly bare trees (interlaced with the odd tree in full flowery blossom) captured my attention. The countryside in Ghana, full of palm trees, tropical foliage, land cleared by fire, and mud brick villages had become the norm to my eyes. This new scenery contrasted with what I had become used to; and my mind toyed with the idea of blending the best of both worlds.

After 45 minutes of winding roads and green expanse, we entered into a village where we found a parking spot. Though the sun was out, we walked quickly through the cool wind and entered the door of the organ theatre into the musty, mothy smell of old…old carpet and old wood.

There is one corridor where an older lady collected money and an older man who opened the door into the theatre.

The theatre itself was bursting with a sort of music that I had never heard before. It was a mixture of crashing marching drums, accordions, and various other percussion and organ sounds. When I stepped around the corner to see the source of the music, there was a huge wall size contraction (about twelve feet tall and over twenty feet wide) with lights flashing and instruments moving. This was one of the organs that we were there to see. Behind the organ was a man who reminded me of Igor (the assistant to Dr. Frankenstein) feeding the machine with cardboard sheets that contain the music that is played.

Around the room, there were a few more of these monstrously strange contraptions. One of them weighs three tonnes! They would be brought from village to village and set up for a few days at a time for people to have a party in the earlier parts of last century. What a sight that must have been!

We also saw a variety of old music boxes (some of which were quite large). I found them to be more appealing, though the giant organs did make me smile. The people who do the tour are a collective of about four, and they are part of a bigger team that meets every Tuesday to maintain the machines and just hang out.

Having an engagement back in London, we left before the first intermission and skipped to complimentary cup of tea (they really do drink a lot of tea here…people always ask me, ‘do you want a cup of tea?).

I wanted to enjoy the ride back through the countryside, but I fell asleep in the car. Once back in town, I realized that my cousin Giles lived too far away to see for the afternoon. Instead, I headed down to the London School of Economics to meet up with Mawulom. She copied some Ghanaian music (gospel and hiplife), I ate some spaghetti, and we just chilled out for awhile talking about Ghana, London and Canada (places we now both have in common).

Heading home, I was to take the train back to Enfield Town. I didn’t know that there were about 14 platforms to choose from. I asked a bunch of people and was directed to platform 1, which had a train that left not even a minute after I boarded it. I spent the trip reading, and when I got to the end of the line, I found out I had been on the wrong train!

The guy that helped me realize that was one very strange fellow coming out of a train on the other side of the platform. If you can imagine Smegel from Lord of the Rings in the body of a slim Lebanese guy with a British accent, and drunken limp and a joint in his mouth.

After confessing to me that he had been mistaken, and that the hair that the police had found wasn’t his, he offered me a draw of his joint. When I declined, he offered me one of the beers in his jacket pocket. I took the first chance to get down to the other end of the train.

An hour later, I was back on the right track, and had just caught the last train going to Enfield Town.

The next morning, Uncle John and I set off for Cambridge. After another drive through the country, we arrived at the storied and historical campus. The shade was very cold, and the sun was just warm enough to enjoy the surroundings. As we toured the streets and the famous colleges (Kings and Trinity), the sun dipped behind clouds and came out again.

While in Tamale I had actually watched a program about people going punting (in the boats) that tour the canals of the university grounds. While it was a bit cold for that, we did at least stand over one of the bridges. I was cracking up as three students (kind of inexperienced) managed to crash their boat into the wall (don’t worry, no one was hurt).

After a few hours of cathedral tours, admiring the lawns and the architecture and really taking in the atmosphere of Cambridge, we decided to head back home. By His grace, as we boarded the bus to the car park, it began to snow! I was glad not to be in that mess.

As for today, I headed down to south London (in the burbs) to see my Auntie Joanne. She lives with her husband Unlce Tony and her daughter Kerys (I think that’s how you spell her name), and they are very nice. The house is a place my Mom would love! The area really looks like a Victorian town, with huge trees, great gardens, and houses with character. Their garden looks like a career to maintain, and it’s not even summer yet.

I spent most of the day eating and sleeping, but the evening was filled with a great discussion of history, astronomy, global warming, and racism.

Tomorrow, I head into London to see a bit of the city…right now, it is 1am and I am going to head to bed.
A POEM

I have written a few poems over the past eight months, but I have not posted most of them. No real reason for that. I will put the ones that I have typed up over the next week or so.

As for this one, I wanted to give a friend a gift, but didn't know what I should get for her. I prayed about it, then this poem came to me. Once I read it, I could see that it applies

Woman of Faith

Woman of virtue,
Woman of faith,
Standing in the gap
Seeking His face.
Shaped in the attributes of the Holy Spirit –
Putting the word into practice, after you hear it.
Worshiping God in spirit and in truth,
Coming to know Him in the days of your youth.
Accepting correction,
Receiving reproof:
Good ground, like the parable,
Soil to bear fruit.
He has appointed your years,
And has counted each tear,
There’s a powerful purpose
In why you are here:
A Queen to be,
You are the daughter of the King of Kings.
You are a channel
For the healing that the living water brings.
May His touch be felt through your hands.
May the blessings in your life outnumber the sands.
May the vision of His will be made clear to you.
May you know that He is near to you,
That when you pray,
He is hearing you.
Let His love overflow in you,
Removing all fear from you.
Let His light make life clear to you.
He knows what you have need of,
He’s your provider –
May you declare in praise
‘Jehovah Jireh’.
He is your ever-present help,
Ensuring victory –
May you declare in praise,
‘Jehovah Nisse’.
May your giftings be unlocked, anointed and applied.
Wisdom is given to those who ask,
May you seek and grow wise.
He designed you specifically –
Chosen and special,
Set apart and protected,
To be used as a vessel.
To be honoured and cherished,
Your body is a temple –
A living testimony,
To set an example.
Standing in the gap,
Seeking His face:
A woman of virtue
A woman of faith.

Monday, March 19, 2007

WHAT'S IN THE NUMBERS?

The day after I was offered the position with JHR, I attended the 50th Anniversary Gala for the church of St. Andrews. Having got the news Friday afternoon, the 50th gala was my first chance to discuss to the possibility with my family, and most of my family was at the dinner.

They were excited for me, and it was looking like I would being going to Ghana.

Of the ten people hired to go to Ghana, I was the only one hired for 8 months. Everyone else had six months. Had that been my case, I might have left on January 16th, however, I was in Ghana until March 16th, ten days after the 50th Anniversary of Africa’s first nation to achieve independence from colonial rule.

I count myself as privileged to have been there as I am aware millions of people around the world would have loved to be there.

When I was leaving Ghana, I was heading to the UK, while President Kufor (Ghana’s President) in the middle of a visit at Buckingham Palace. He is one of two heads of state to be invited to the palace in 2007, and his visit coincided with mine.

The actual day that I arrived in London was St. Patrick’s Day, followed by UK’s Mother’s Day (or Mum’s Day) for my first trip in what is my families ‘mother country’.

I am also to be in the UK on the 200th Anniversary of when the abolition of the slave trade went from a bill to a law (March 25th, 1807). Note that, the law abolishing slavery (which occurred in July of 1807, known as Emancipation Day) was different than the law abolishing the slave trade.

Just a bunch of dates that go beyond coincidence and testify of divine orchestration.
On the morning of Saturday, March 17th, I arrived in London. It was my second time in the airport, but my first time stepping out of it's boundaries and into the city of London. Meeting at that early hour of 6:40AM was Mawulom. She helped me with my language and to navigate the London Underground to meet my Great Uncle John.

After a nap and something small to eat, I was off to meet Mawulom. Where we went was a church called Kensington Temple for a Ghana@50 celebration. Here is a photo, and I hope to add more.



ARRIVED IN LONDON

I am here safe in London.

My last day in Ghana went smoothly. I had quite a few things to do, and, thankfully, I got them all done. One little funny point was getting on a tro tro that was supposed to be going to circle, and finding that the driver decided to go through Tema (to get more passengers) and East Legon (to avoid the traffic that wasn’t actually on Spintex Road) which got us stuck in a traffic jam. Usually, I would have gotten frustrated sitting in traffic for an extra hour, when I had a half-dozen places to go in a couple of hours. Instead, I was relaxed. At one point, I told the collector that I had just wanted to go to circle, and that I didn’t know they were doing tours of Accra. He began to crack up laughing, and so did a few others. That really blessed my heart.

As for the rest of the day, a lot of unexpected twists occurred – from the lady who had the t-shirts I was to pick up not bringing them, and taking me back to the place I had come from (oh, and her shoe broke while we were rushing back from where the t-shirts were) to going to Auntie Elizebeth (Cathy’s Aunt) and finding a huge lunch of fufu on the table and a stack of fully woven kente garments to bring back to her sister in my bags.

In the evening, Bella came by and helped with the last touches on my packing. I was able to see a friend from church around the corner, and sit drinking a malt and talk, before heading back to the house. Together we same a few hymns and prayed, then packed into the car and headed to the airport.

In the car, I was very surprised to get a call from Kary who was waiting to see me off at the airport. She helped me to rearrange some of my luggage, which was just under the maximum weight by about three pounds.

Once I checked in and we said our ‘go and comes’, I got one last opportunity to experience the green shirts of Ghana Immigration. The line of passengers boarding four different flights stretched around the entire upper floor of the airport. I was part a group of the final ten people to board the plane.

It was about 11:30PM when we began to lift-off.

Being on the plane and flying away was not a dramatic moment. The plane headed out over the southern coast, and then turned around heading back over the lights of Accra.

It was not until we were over Spain that I could see any sights. To the east was the silhouette of some mountains, made black by the rainbow that the soon to rise sun had cut into the horizon.

With very little sleep (I stayed up watching Babel), I arrived in London and passed quite smoothly through the passport check.

I was grateful for Mawulom (who is the sister of Elikem and who I had met once at their mother’s 60th birthday party back near Christmas time) came at 6:30AM to meet me at the airport and escort me on the train to where I was to meet my Great Uncle John. Without much of a hitch, we met him.

The cool tempetature inspired a shiver in my body, and my ears were cold for the first time in about a year. I sat in the ‘driver’s seat’ (the left side) of his car, as a passenger, and we proceeded on the left side of the road to his home on Craddock Road.

The area is neat and tightly planned. The houses are small and close together, and all look like they are from another era. Many of the trees were blossoming, but I was unsure of how flowers fare in the cool breeze.

Uncle John’s home struck me with a musty scent, but that soon passed. The room I am staying in is bright, with a huge window facing the east. There are books on shelves around the house, which seem to cover a good portion of the English literary cannon.

Uncle John is a short white haired man, whose wife passed six years ago. He is the brother-in-law of my Grandmother on my father’s side. As his hobby’s, he is a gardener, photographer, cyclist, and an editor. He also has done quite a bit of research on family history through visits to various record keeping offices. When I suggested that I would like to see a family tree(not thinking it was a possibility), he pulled one out that dates back to 1807.

After settling in and taking a nap, I was headed out to meet Mawulom and to go to a program at her church. Having mixed up the directions and waited at the wrong station (plus I don’t have a cell phone here) I caused a two hour delay to our meeting, and I put her through quite a bit of worry. When I finally went back home and called her, realizing that I had been at the wrong station, we decided that we would meet eachother.

To my surprise, we arrived at a service to celebrate Ghana’s independence. That was surreal. The day that I leave Ghana, and come into the drastically different city of London, I find myself back with a piece of Ghana. The music, the languages, the clothing, and the people reminded me of so much. The many smiles that were brought to my face…

After the service, we went to McDonald’s and then I took a few trains back home and made it without a hitch back to Uncle John’s place.

That is what I did.

How I feel. On the plane I did not feel sad. On the train, talking with Mawulom, I did not feel sad. However, when I was in the car with Uncle John, and everything around me seemed to be a bit too cool and still, sadness touched me.

I thought of Mawulom’s words about Ghana as home and her saying that there is no place like it. Later on, in the evening, when the church was lit up with praise in Twi, music and the colours of kente and the flag from corner to corner, she repeated that sentiment.

A day later, aside from my cold toes, I am settling into London. The pace of life (highlighted in the line at McDonald’s were I struggled to match the firing pace of the cashiers questions), the conduct of the people (yelling in public places, bumping into you and not saying a word about it to you, and the PDA’s – highlighted by a man in a line-up with his hand feeling up his girfriends backside) have all been something to adjust to.

It is exciting, being here and seeing this city. Mawulom has extended herself so much to me, Uncle John is a great host (and such a quirky guy), and the city of London has been a feast for my perceptions and reflections.

I miss Ghana though. The desire to return has already begun to rise in me. Ahead of me now though, is the wonderful chance to be in Toronto – a city I love.

Friday, March 16, 2007

GO AND COME

The dry season ended today, and rain fell on the city for the first time since October. Mama Ackerson said that it is “showers of blessings”. I told her that Ghana is crying because I am leaving today. She laughed.

Today, I have a few errands to run then I will relax at the house before I go.

Just as it was hard to believe that I was here, it is hard to believe that I am leaving. I used to say to myself, walking down the street, “wow, I’m in Ghana”. I can imagine now waking up and realizing, “whoah, I’m not in Ghana”.

If you have read my journals, or have been in touch with me, you know that I have been greatly blessed and have been through many challenges. Through it all, Ghana has been good to me. Being here was not just visiting a country, but through the love I have been shown, I have been at home here.

While I will be boarding a plane leaving to England tonight, I don’t have the sense that “I am going home”. ‘Akwaaba’, is used to say ‘welcome’, but more exactly, it means .you have gone and you have come’. So I don’t feel like I am ‘going home’, I feel like ‘I will go and I will come’.

And now, so many possibilities have been opened to me. Canada is where I live, and the deep roots I have there are strong. The family and friends that I love, the beautiful land, and the city that I have been raised in are central in my heart. I see Ghana in my future, and I see other places on the globe in my future.

There are so many people and places that I have been privileged to know. My contact with them will now be in memory and over the ocean, until I return again. That saddens me. I don’t know if tears will fall though; if my eyes will open up like the sky has. Though I leave, I am returning to others that I have only been in contact with over an ocean. That excites me.

There are treasures in my heart, and my vision has been expanded. My faith has been increased, and my destiny has unfolded further.

We don’t say goodbye then, we say, ‘go and come’. In July 2006, I had gone, and March 2007 I will come.

10 MONTHS AGO

Ten months ago, I got a phone call after work. I had just dropped a friend to the bus and I was heading home to begin the weekend. The call was from Emilee, who works for Journalists for Human Rights.

I can still see the parking lot, and the intersection that I drove to while on that phone call. I was told that I was being offered a position to work in Ghana .

Even though I had applied for the job, I did not have the expectation of leaving Toronto. At that moment, a window of opportunity was opened before my eyes. I was told that I had the weekend to think it over, and that they needed a response by Monday morning. The decision to accept the position did not come to me immediately. In that moment, a number of people were laid on my heart, and I wanted to speak to each of them.

Each of the people I spoke to encouraged me to go. On my own and in prayer, I recall thinking of not going for a few seconds, and the feeling I got was terrible. It was like I would be throwing away a God-given opportunity to enter into the next stage of my destiny; and it would be some time before I got another shot, and that shot would be more difficult.

I don’t need to tell anyone that I accepted the position.

Over the weeks of preparation, I saw God’s hand everywhere in my life. I learned the lessons that it is not “if God can” it’s “if God will”. I also learned (due to the fact that I was having a going-away bbq and still had not secured my plane ticket), that it is better to be embarrassed with people and be where you are supposed to be, then to save face and be out of step with destiny.

Once arriving in Ghana , the adventures were numerous. I visited almost every region of the country, I made some great friends, and I survived a long list of not-so-desirable circumstances.

Now, with just over 48 hours left in Ghana , my senses are heightened. I am savouring the smells and sights, people and places more than usual. My days are quite full between wrapping-up my placement, seeing friends, and preparing to leave.

My feelings are all heightened: there is some sadness, and some excitement which compliment each other, rather than compete.

Ghana has been good to me, and I plan to return (don’t know when). There are so many more stories and so much more to be said about this.

From here, I will be going to London for twelve days, for my first experience on the European continent. I will be whisked around the city between family and friends, then I will arrive in Toronto on March 28th.

I want to say that every text message, phone call, email, and prayer has been a blessing to me. If you could see the whole picture, the way each person’s place in my life contributes to this fantastic 3D panoramic masterpiece, you would know why I am so grateful.

I have a great destiny. I am so loved. I am blessed, not without trials, but blessed. I have a unique path, bringing me along a wonderful journey. And these things are true for each of us.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Monday

I have four full days in Accra before I board a flight to London. I will go from eight months in Ghana to twelve days in England – a country that much of my family is from, yet this will be my first visit.

On my way to Ghana, the flight had a six hour stop-over in Heathrow Airport. While there, I envisioned the time that I would return and get a chance to exit the airport premises, even though I still had nearly a year in Ghana ahead of me.

With that said, I am not getting ahead of myself. I am here.

This morning, I headed to Labone junction to meet with an author named Pam Handa. She is proudly Indian and has been living in Ghana for thirty five years. We sat on her patio drinking tea and discussing the four books that she recently self-published. Three of the books are poetry and one is a novel. I sat at her table and listened for about two hours as she detailed the story of her and her husband in Ghana, and the contents of each book.

It was a pleasant morning, and with complimentary copies of the books in my bag, I headed over to the campus. On my way though, I enjoy some sun warmed sugar cane, and fresh coconut.

Once at the campus, I had a few errands to run which brought me by the Legon Hall and the campus bookstore, after which I took a lunch of banku, fish and pepper.

The day at work was mostly focused on making arrangements for stories and interviews to take place after I leave.

By 4pm, I was off. A friend and her sister came by the station and dropped me part of the way to dinner at Layata’s sisters place, with another of her sisters and two cousins (Rhiana). I had jolof rice with fish and chicken, and it was delicious. More interesting than what I ate was our long discussion what love really is and what it isn’t.

On the way to the taxi round, I met up with another friend that lives in the same area (it’s called Abelenpe). We didn’t get to speak long before I jumped in a taxi and headed back to Sakumono.

Of the weekend that just passed, my highlight was going to Bojo Beach Resort on Saturday. I had sent out a text message to about two dozen people inviting them to come, but I was determined to be there with or without the crowd. I am not sure when I will be this close to a warm ocean again. After similar plans not working out on the national holiday that followed independence, I was not going to depend on others to get out there.

While I intended to get there by 11am, we got there by 12:30pm (which was not bad at all). The crew was Christina (from Nebraska), Bella, Felix (a film student) and Hilda (met her and her cousin in a tro tro on independence day). Also meeting us there was Tugz (he’s a poet from England that I met in Toronto who I found out was in Ghana through Kamau) his girlfriend, and a few other friends/family from the UK.

The day consisted of football on the beach, lunch, sunshine and swimming.

On Sunday, I had wanted to go to church in the morning, but that didn’t happen. Instead, I used the morning planning my week and holding a devotion at home. I then met up with my friend Shelia to go to the final day of the trade fair. The crafts and art on display was really beautiful, and if space in my luggage and finances were not concerns, I would have bought a quarter of the place…not that much, but enough to furnish a very large home.

From the trade fair, I went over to the Sunday afternoon youth service that I have been attending for the past few weeks. I was initially invited by a friend that I met at the university (Karen), and I have come to make attending a part of my weekly schedule.

As for schedules, the rest of the week is feeling exciting and full. Tomorrow I go back to Ghana Immigration to get my passport. That is a story to itself…they are nuts over there. Oh, Kamau is now back in Toronto…that is another story to itself, though it is not a crazy story like ‘Ghana Immigration’. And there is my last trip to Tamale that I want to write about. Of course, really looking at what it means to be at the end of my eight months in Ghana and heading back to Toronto.

So much to do, so much to write. I need to complete my packing, do one last workshop at Radio Univers, ensure some stories get covered, organize my handover note, lots of meetings, and saying ‘bye for now’ to so many friends. There is quite a list of things to do, but I have to say that I can feel God’s grace in it all – it’s amazing.