FOUR CHARACTERS

A few nights ago, I was sitting and eating dinner when some guests came to the house. It was Sister Saphora’s elder sister and her French husband. They are in Ghana to visit family and to make preparations for their retirement in the northern region.

Though they have traveled quite widely, they reside in Saudi Arabia. I found it to be intriguing when it was revealed to me that her husband worked for the King of Saudi Arabia ensuring that every pool, tap, sink, and shower in his numerous palaces are in working order.

It wasn’t so much his expertise in plumbing that impressed me (though I respect the trade), but it was the fact that he works for the King of Saudi Arabia. I asked him about the chances of introducing me to a Saudi princess, but he said they usually marry cousins. He also said I would find them with greater ease in the luxurious shopping districts of France than in their own country.

We spoke about life in Saudi Arabia, which they said is quite confined to the private sphere. Seeing Saphora’s sister beautifully adorned in the finest dress of this regions combination of Ghanian fabrics and Islamic modesty, I found it hard to visualize her dressed in the full covering of black fabric that women in the country are required to wear.

They later laughed about how inquisitive I was, as I presented them each with question after question. We they found out I was here in connection to journalism, it all made more sense for them. They have been coming by the house every night, and we have enjoyed eating dinner together. They actually offered an invitation for me to visit them in Saudi Arabia. God willing, I would go.

I also met two interesting people on the bus back to Tamale. One of them was a young Lebanese guy named Mohammed. He was about 25 and was one of the few people I have come across who, by their speech, you can tell listens to Hip Hop. Most people here guess that I am American based on how I speak; I figure it’s the same influence of the music.

He was also going from Accra to Kumasi, but for a different reason. He was going to see his wife of less than a year who had given birth that day. He said that he was going to see his new born daughter that he would name Malaika. I was so happy for him, I felt the excitement inside of my own heart. He was very eager to get to Kumasi. We had some great conversations and just really clicked. Since then, I spoke to him on the phone and he told me, feeling quite amazed, “she looks just like me”. God willing, I will know that feeling.

The other person I met on the bus was also quite interesting. Europeans always stand out on the STC bus, as I am often the only one (especially going to and from Tamale). On that bus from Accra to Kumasi, a group of three older Europeans were sitting near to me; two across the row, and one beside me. The man beside me reluctantly informed me that he was going to an annual market in Burkino Faso, but made it clear by his tone that he didn’t really want to talk. After a short break, we got back on the bus and I was surprised by how his mood had lightened. As we began talking I realized that he wasn’t the same guy, and he realized that I had thought that he was his friend. He laughed and forgave me, noting of old White people that, “we all look the same”.

Being much more talkative I learned a lot about his story. He was a mathematician working in Miami about to buy a house, when he decided to take his savings and travel the world. The initial trip brought him through 16 or so African countries from Morocco, through Zaire to South and East Africa. His travels also brought him throughout Europe (where he did a lot of skiing), on a camping trip from Greece all the way down to Uganda, throughout Asia for a stint in Thailand and to Australia and New Zealand. He now works part-time as a consultant for a firm and travels when he feels like it. This trip was to accompany to of his friends to the market where they would be purchasing African fabrics that they sell in the UK.

When I inquired about what he had learned throughout his travels and all that he had seen, he didn’t have anything very profound to say. He just said that he knows some people like him and some don’t, but that he hopes that he is remembered as a guy that was nice and did the right thing sometimes. One thing I appreciated about him was that he laughed a lot. Laughter does not come as easily to a lot of people, and I appreciate that attribute.

We continued our conversation on the topic of literature. He peeked my interest in reading War and Peace, and I peeked his interest in Derek Walcott, V.S. Naipaul and Jamaica Kincaid.

There is one more person that I want to write about.

When I went to the Diare village in Saveluhgu (about 40 minutes outside of Tamale), I was going with Micheal and Robert from the Carter Centre who are doing work surrounding Guinea Worm. We traveled throughout the villages in the area visiting families, seeing cases, and checking out the dam. I will be writing an article about this, so I will spare the details for now. One of the stops that we made was at a treatment centre. Due to the stigma attached to being sick, people decline staying at the treatment centre. It is one thing to have the Guinea Worm visibly penetrating your skin, but the stigma comes when you wear a bandage or when you are known to be staying in the treatment centre.

Anyhow, they are still repairing this compound to bring up to the standard of a desirable place to stay for a week for anyone with a Guinea Worm case. While there I was introduced to a young lady who works in the village as a health trainer.

She seemed very shy, and disappeared after our introduction then returned with a bench for Micheal, Robert and I to sit on.

Immediately, I noticed two features on her face that seemed to account for her shyness. Her right eye appears to be wide open, in contrast to her left eye which functions as one’s eye is supposed to. On her top gum, she also has the teeth at the middle of front of her mouth missing. After the gap, there are two teeth that protrude in a slanted manner.

Being a muslim, she uses the scarf that she wears as a hijab to cover her right eye and conceal her smile. Though I did not spend more than an hour in her presence, I don’t imagine that she smiles often; not from a lack of happiness, but as an instinct to defend herself from insecurity.

While I was sitting on the bench that she had brought for us, I noticed her contemplative posture and how smooth her skin was. There are times when revelations and realizations about people will be laid upon my heart. While sitting there, the words came into the core of my being that, “she has a clean heart”. I am not saying she is flawless in her character, but I could see that she has a remarkably good heart.

About half an hour later, I was leaning on Micheal’s truck waiting for the next move. The young lady was near to where I was and was crouched near to the ground. She had a piece of grass in her hand and was using it to lightly, and artistically, clear the small stones in front of her. She carved out clearings and designs, and made a few triangular and circular patterns. It made me smile, because I have done the very same thing so many times in the past. My mind drifted through so many memories and ideas as I observed her: one of the ideas was how creativity and experimentation with the environment leads to innovations and discoveries of tools, resources and useful techniques.

I can tell that her appearance has brought her a lot pain. She is committed to improving conditions in her community, and is noticeably a beautiful person. This insight was confirmed by Micheal who knows her quite well. Yet, most people, seeing her face, don’t see all of her.

She made quite an impression on me.