What Living In Ghana Taught Me About Racism, Colonialism, And Slavery (Part 1)
Why living in West African for three months forever changed my understanding of race, and history.
by Ben Cohen
When British teenagers finish secondary school at 18, many of those who are going on to university take what is commonly referred to as “gap year”. This mostly means working for a few months, then traveling to places like Thailand and Australia. Some do work placements abroad or teach English as a second language.
My plan back in 2001 was to spend a couple of months in America living in a Martial Arts gym, then come back to the UK, work for a few more months and then live in Ghana for several months teaching English.
My best friend growing up is of Ghanaian descent, and having heard thousands of stories about the country he partially grew up in, I was intrigued. He would tell me about the tribe his family came from, the year round heat, the tastiness of jollof rice and sweetbread, sucking the juice from sugar cane plants bought from street vendors, the glorious white sand beaches, and how thieves were beaten (and sometimes killed) by locals. Ghana was also home to famous boxing district, the notoriously tough Bukom in Jamestown, Accra. The neighborhood had produced champions like Azumah Nelson and Ike Quartey, and as a boxing fanatic I wanted to train there.
I had traveled quite a bit with my family growing up, but mostly in Europe, and never in the developing world. Ghana was about as far away from the grey skies of London as I could imagine, and as a 19 year old with a lot of admittedly unearned confidence, I couldn’t wait.
The three months I spent in Ghana were transformative on a number of levels. While very, very difficult at times, it was huge amounts of fun, and extremely rewarding. I left with a deep love for the Ghanaian people and their culture (and their food!), and have wanted to return ever since. My time there also helped shape my view on politics — a topic I want to talk about in this essay.
I’ve written a lot about racism across the political spectrum, particularly in recent times. Much of my thinking on this issue comes from my experience of being Jewish, but it was my time in Ghana that really taught me why both the left and right are wrong about race. From patronizing white liberals to racist Ghanaians, my time in Africa was sobering to say the least.
This is a story I have never shared before, but given the current political climate, I feel it is more relevant than ever.
Preparing for the trip
The months preceding my trip to Ghana were tough. I had broken up with my girlfriend and was working in a soulless job in central London. I had to take the dreaded Northern Line on the London Underground every morning, and I got constant colds from being rammed like a sardine into carriages with hundreds of passengers. The grim British winter weather began to take its toll on my mental health too, and I dreamt of Ghana almost nightly.
After Christmas I went to New Jersey in January to train in a famous Martial Arts academy, not realizing the gym was located far away from anything remotely interesting. I had no car and there was no public transport, so I had to trudge through the snow from my motel to the gym on the side of an extremely busy freeway. The owner eventually took pity on me and let me sleep in the gym, but after a few weeks of great training and extreme boredom in between, I was more than ready to leave.
The weather in London was better when I returned from America, and I spent a couple of months working to save up money for my trip to Ghana. This consisted of me getting fired from number of jobs (I am apparently awful at telesales) and trying to raise money by organizing drum and bass parties (I am apparently awful at organizing events too). Thanks to a “donation” from my parents who took pity on my fundraising efforts, I managed to scrape enough cash together for the trip.
I had organized my stay in Ghana through a non-profit that placed you at a school, hospital or vet depending on your preference, and found you lodging. From the package I received in the mail, I found out I would be teaching in a small primary school in the suburb of Teshie Nungua, Accra, and would be staying in a house nearby. I would be sharing a room with another volunteer teacher, and if I had any problems, there was an office for the non-profit in downtown Accra I could go to.
My Ghanaian aunty
This was during the early days of the internet, so I really had no sense of what I was getting myself into. I bought a small guidebook to Ghana with some recommendations for travel/food etc, but my sense of what Ghana looked, smelt, and felt like was mostly based on what my friend had told me all those years ago. As the trip drew near, I could tell my he was anxious about my visit, worried maybe that the Ghana he had described was not the one I would experience. His mum (whom I grew up calling “aunty”) insisted on coming with me to a meet up with the non-profit group before I left, and then gave me a long lecture on how to stay safe, where to visit, and why I shouldn’t do any boxing in Bukom. “They are rough boys, Ben,” she told me flatly. “They are going to beat you up!”
Coincidentally, it was going to be aunty’s 50th birthday in July, and she was coming with all the family to Accra while I would be there. I was told in no uncertain terms that I was forbidden to stay in Teshie Nungua while they were there, and that I would be looked after in a nice house with “proper food”.
Armed with more contacts from my friend’s family, anti-malarial tablets, limited clothing, and a packet of condoms my mum embarrassingly insisted I bring, I flew out to Accra via Lagos, Nigeria at the beginning of May, 2001, just as the rainy season was about to begin.
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Kathleen Parker's Extraordinary Meltdown Over Biden's Pro-Roe Campaign
The conservative columnist reflects the growing panic on the right over abortion.
by Justin Rosario
One of the more fun ways to measure the mood of the right wing is to read the occasional op-ed column written by a conservative. Especially one trying really hard to sell themselves as a non-partisan. The beltway press loves conservative columnists larping as “neutral” observers of politics because it allows them to launder Republican talking points. But if you’re not taking them at face value, you get a pretty good idea of where the right is going.
This especially true when conservative columnists are agitated. Then they are as subtle as a lead brick through a window. In their agitation, they inadvertently tell you just how panicked they are and reveal just how much trouble the GOP is in.
Let’s take a look at Kathleen Parker’s Washington Post column: Biden’s abortion push reeks of desperation. The article basically reads like a 1200 word plea for Biden to stop using abortion against Republicans.
Biden’s desperate? Oh, do go on
Parker opened her screed with a snarky comment about Biden’s Catholic faith…
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I am extremely interested in this particular story, Ben! I spent three months in Jamaica as an exchange student through AFS in 1983. I was 18, had just graduated high school and was about go into the USAF.
There is a much longer story I could tell, but it was my time in Jamaica that shaped and solidified my thoughts and opinions about racism, bigotry, and everything associated with that. I lived with a family in Kingston, far away from the touristy north side of the island.
I cannot wait to read more of your time in Ghana!
You’re in London around the turn of the millennium
You have Ben Simms, Surgeon, Space DJz and about a dozen other minimal superstars to pick from, that we paid a small fortune to bring to party’s full of welcoming super fans in Australia and you went with Drum n Bass instead!!!! That was a huge mistake!!! 😂😂