the search for wisdom
ghana: a story of learning
march-april 2018
In order to serve well, you must first learn how to serve well.
A year of preparing, planning, learning, talking, and fundraising preceded the departure of non-profit organization Operation Wisdom's eighteen-person team. This was a program with an emphasis on sustainability and ethical aid. From North Carolina to Ghana, West Africa we flew in March of 2018.
When we first arrived in Ghana, it didn’t look or feel like another country; it felt like just another city in America that I had never visited before. We got to know our tour guide and bus driver--Jessie and David, provided through local tour agency Easy Track Ghana--as we drove to the Pink Hostel: our home for the night. I slept in a room with six other girls, a broken sink, and half-working AC unit. When I woke up, I was sweatier than I had ever been in my entire life. But I journaled that, in being freed of the trivial, material "necessities" I had grown accustomed to, I learned to look to the simple things for joy. It was a new day with new possibilities in a new country with new people. Cue the adventure. (Why is it we never have this perspective in our everyday spaces?)
In the southern part of Ghana, we went from Accra to Winneba, then to Cape Coast. In these cities we met with a variety of organizations: to learn, to see.
But the first stop was the home of Jessie, our animated and quickly beloved tour guide.
Here, we were introduced to and embraced by his family. In an effort to welcome and educate, we underwent a traditional Ghanaian naming ceremony that is normally performed for newborn babies about a week after their birth. Given a taste of honey, liquor, and water, sealed by crossing the threshold of their home seven times, baptized in water dripping from the roof. To follow was music and dancing, many conversations on culture, and an extensive tour of Jessie's neighborhood. Time didn't seem to move the same; community was our only focus.
David and Jessie drove us to Winneba, the town where our next hostel stay would be. Left with some free time, we walked down to the beach.
At this point, I was learning valuable lessons about the individual vs the collective. I found myself having to get used to putting the needs of the group over my own wants or preferences. I thought this would be frustrating, but I found that the reward was community and deeper connection. What could be better?
The reason we were in Winneba was to visit one of our long time Global Partners. Challenging Heights works to rescue child slaves from the fishing industry and enable the communities to prosper so that child slavery can be prevented. Our team was privileged to see where they work, and receive a first-hand look at how they provide education and freedom. Challenging Heights taught me the need for true, sustainable change They didn't only respond to the issue of child slavery by rescuing and rehabilitating them through education, but they also went to the root of the problem. In their community, they were noticing that kids were most likely to be kidnapped and sold into the fishing industry while their parents were away at work. Challenging Heights then set up a location where parents could work smoking and selling fish while their children were with them in order to prevent the cycle from continuing. That's what true change looks like: prevention.
However, as I walked in this community in the footsteps of Ghanaians, I knew that I never could really walk in their footsteps. I journaled: "I had the feeling of being in a two-way zoo." As we watched them, they watched us. It felt wrong. It was wrong. The injustice of the situation was palpable. We later discussed this.
In Cape Coast, Global Mamas empowers local women by employing them to batik, sew, and produce products to be bought by people all over the world, Operation Wisdom often buys their products in bulk to then sell in our North Carolina communities; 100% of any proceeds we made would go back to their women. At this time in Ghana, the team learned about their business and production process in addition to engaging in cultural lessons with some of their staff. In the batiking class, we learned the art's intricate process and spent time with an artisan in their workspace.
In the same day, we also visited with Hoops Care International and listened to Alfred and Claudius speak about its beginnings. Claudius originally started this organization as a teenager in the community. His goal was to combine his love of basketball with community development and youth-mentoring so that he could use what he loved to better the people around him. Through their "Nets for Nets" program, Hoops Care seeks to provide malaria nets for families in the community. A member on our team fundraised for 50 malaria nets, which we then were a part of distributing.
The way Claudius chose to discover a way to use his passion for good inspired me, I journaled. "I want to do that. That's my goal."
Learning from our partners was incredibly enriching and educational, however our learning wasn't restricted to organizational meetings. By a few days in, I was beginning to become more and more uncomfortable with the amount of attention we received because we were white. Questions about what cream I use and compliments on my skin made me angry. Western standards of beauty are dominant. How wrong that is. We cannot escape the existence of white privilege. The question then is how can we use it for good?
We found Cape Coast to be a place of joy, laughter, and welcoming people. However, always looming over was Cape Coast Castle. One of the forty "slave castles" that were built along Ghana's "gold coast," it remains now a tourist destination of another kind; for some, an educational experience, for others, an unfortunate homecoming. It remained in our peripherals for a few days, seen from the beach outside the restaurant we frequented, until we made our own entrance into the walls that held stories of sorrow and suffering and pain and injustice.
An aspect of our program was that each student team member was required to work with one of the Ghanaian partners we would be visiting. We were to be in consistent communication with these partners for the year leading up to the trip, learning about their organization's focus and mission, asking what they may need from Operation Wisdom, and planning what we were to do during the time we were visiting them. As an Operation Wisdom intern that semester in addition to a team member, I was asked to work with two new potential partners: Nkwa and Songtaba.
Nkwa, located just outside Cape Coast in Ponkrom, is an organization focused on community development. They work with the Ponkrom Village school to help enable their community—one that has never had a high-school graduate—to provide the kids with quality education and families with greater resources.
I worked directly with Ramzy, seen to the left, who founded Nkwa after he graduated university four years prior. As someone who came from a rural, poor community, Ramzy wanted to provide other communities like his with the resources necessary to develop sustainably. This community had never see anyone graduate the high school level was due to the fact the four classrooms they had were primary classrooms. Nkwa was working on building more classrooms for secondary level education with enough structural integrity to withstand the rainy season.
The wisdom we received from our time with Nkwa was a gift. As he spoke of Nkwa's birth, Ramzy made the point that he searched for experts to fulfill the positions he required. He's not a teacher, he confessed, so instead of attempting to be one himself he found trained teachers to fill that role. And where did he go in search of these experts? The school's own community.
Ramzy taught us that passion doesn't make up for lack of skill. He taught us true, sustainable, community development.
"Acknowledging our past enslavement allows us to determine our future freedom. Through knowledge we break free of all shackles that bind."
We finally set foot in the historical atrocity known as Cape Coast Castle. Here, the team was silent. We were guided along its paths, confronted the reality of a history that white Americans benefitted from. Built during the Atlantic slave trade for Africans to be caged until shipment, the rooms of this prison-named-castle had three small windows, an occupancy limit of 100-200 people, and floor paved with hundreds of years of dried fecal matter left behind.
Much like the Pharisees whom Jesus warned us were white-washed tombs, this castle had been painted white to cover the black stain of slavery and make the appearance of this reminder a little easier to digest.
May it never be.
We followed the steps of too many millions of human beings out the "Door of No Return."
This door has now a contrasting sign on the other side: "The Door of Return." All those who descend from Ghanaians, stolen from their homes, can now walk through the other side and experience the homecoming their ancestors never could because of the injustice of this world.
It's a reminder to us today of what has been done,
and what we now must do.
"He-llo, he-llo" "Welcome! Welcome!" "Welcome to Ghana!" "Take my photo!"
These were the chants of the "refugee city." My team travelled to Accra in preparation of departing to another region of Ghana. Before flying out of the Accra airport, we were welcomed into the community's school and given an impromptu tour of its neighborhood. The people of Nima are predominantly refugees, non-natives. As we walked, it was as if we were transported somewhere else entirely. Surrounded by numerous languages, cultures, stalls, and peoples, many of the team experienced sensory overload. But the thing I found myself most overwhelmed with was their kindness.
What I journaled was how it seemed to me that the members of this community wanted to make sure we knew that we were loved and welcomed there. They had experienced being the foreigner, being the outcast, that they wanted to make our experience different. They were so much more loving and welcoming because they knew what is was to be unloved and unwelcomed.
We filled our days with much, but the favorite moments that my journal documents the most were the ones spent around a good meal, reflecting on the days' challenges and lessons. A high school student, I loved the ability to sit and talk with my teachers as equals, expressing feelings and processing thoughts. Their confidence in me gave a sense of agency and capability.
Taking the time to fully and holistically see people holds power. Their belief in me made me believe in myself.
Onto the North we flew. This day was terribly eye-opening for me as, when we got off the plane and stepped onto our bus, the head teacher of the team turned to me and said, "Okay, Kara, where are we going?"
It was my job to coordinate with the day's organizations, my job to lead the team. Sometimes moments come before you're ready, but that's the point, isn't it?
The second part of our itinerary was located in the northern region of Ghana. First stopping in Tamale to meet with Pure Home Water, an organization started by professors at MIT who discovered that clay, like that found in Ghanaian soil, can filter out contaminated water to produce clean drinking water. They gave a tour of their facility where they produce the basins for sale. Just one pot is $30 and can last for three years.
The bus we rode in was terribly large, obnoxious, and screamed "foreigner." I hated it. I wanted to experience the everyday life of these communities, but how is an eighteen year-old white American supposed to "understand" and experience a disparity they still hadn't fully comprehended—most likely still don't? Maybe the overly enthusiastic honking and attention-drawing of the bus was characteristic of my own ignorance. Maybe it was fitting.
We visited Songtaba, the other organization that I coordinated with, who gave us a powerpoint presentation full of insight and perspective. The community in which Songtaba works is a strict, formulaic, patriarchal society in which women are not able to speak out of turn or go against the norms. If they did, excommunication due to accusations of being a "possessed witch" would ensue. Songtaba works with the outcasted women where they reside in “witch villages” in order to give them the resources and support they lack. The goal is to eventually help re-enter them back into society through a slow and careful process, full of education for both the "insiders" and "outsiders." Of the six different witch villages in North Ghana, Songtaba successfully disbanded one. Just five to go.
The holism of their approach stood out to me. They providing counseling, not just jobs for the traumatized women; education for the communities that outcasted them to address the cause issue, not just focusing on a symptom.
We drove several hours to our stay with the Salia Family in Larabonga. They established the “Savanna Lodge,” providing housing and a giant family-sized table under a wooden pavilion. All our meals were made by Mrs. Salia, served out of two large pots; true togetherness and community. These few days felt like weeks. Full of memorable conversations over meals and collective chores. Our learning here came from the Salia family's home-stay.
The terrain, culture, and region of the north differed widely from what we saw in the south.
A Salia daughter, Titi, spent a lot of time talking with us about education. She shared with us a winning debate she wrote as a member of her school's debate team. The subject: whether or not Ghana is a truly independent nation, (socially and politically). Titi wants to be a lawyer.
Being in a more rural area, the access to running water was slim. So to wash clothes, shower, or cook, the family members had to fetch it themselves. As we were a part of the family for a few days, we made sure to take part as well. This was a first-hand experience of the global water crisis and our own privilege.
I journaled a conversation we had with one of our teachers: He said, "The more showers you take and water you use, the more the family's kids have to fetch water for you." A lesson in privilege and our own entitlement.
In the North, there was a lot more time for reflection as our schedules were less packed full with organizational meetings. Some teachers of the Bambininuye Community School gave us a tour of the community, showing us one of the oldest mosques in Africa. We spent time sitting around the family table talking about our experiences, and learning from the wisdom and perspective of our hosts.
The Salia brothers started Bambininye Community School to provide an opportunity at a better education for the families in the area. A few of our team members worked directly with Mr. Salia to gather any materials and support he requested beforehand. One of our days in Larabonga was working with Mr. Salia to help cement the floors of their classrooms and distract the kids in the mean time.
These three girls told me that one of their mothers makes shea butter. They went back and brought me some from home. In return, they wanted a photoshoot.
Us abrunis (white people) of course couldn't leave without a visit to a national park. Jessie got us set up with a walking tour of Mole National Park where we got to see some of the protected lands of Ghana.
"Be sure to look at all the pictures of our time up North," I wrote in my journal. "I don't ever want to forget it. ... I want to be a life-long learner."
We said goodbye to the Salia family, left Larabonga for Kitase, down back in the south. Kitase was the home of one of our team's faculty members for a few years at the beginning of his teaching career. We met his dear friend, Ken Aboagye, and were welcomed into his home. Ken is the founder of the school, Wisdom Academy, the namesake and founding for Operation Wisdom. It's here that our lead faculty member came to terms with the reality of "voluntourism" and the harm of partner-less aid. It's here that he was impacted and that he decided he wanted to impact his students in the same way. He did.
It was here, back where our organization began, that we reflected our mission and vision: wisdom. What is wisdom? How do we find it?
Knowledge, Compassion, Agency, Community. The four elements of Wisdom.
What good is knowledge if you don't care? What good is compassion if you don't act on it? What good is agency if you don't have a community to work with and for?
An understanding we gained as we saw it practiced in our partners in Ghana.
I experienced this all in 2018. But I curated this story in 2021. As I reflect on my writings from those sixteen days and documented thoughts after my return, I'm humbled. At the time, I felt confident in it all. Now, with new knowledge and perspective, I look back and see the ignorance and immaturity of my language. There are many things I regret. Yet, I was in process. I wouldn't have learned what I did from my mistakes unless I made them. I am still in process. Imperfection and the act of being wrong is a prerequisite to learning. And, oh, how refreshing it is to see that I have learned.
