Where do you consider home and why?
Home is wherever I find myself with those closest to me. I could be at home in Accra, in Popenguine, in London or even in Virginia. There’s nothing I enjoy more than quiet places in the woods or by the sea, enjoying great food and company.
List three words or phrases that come to mind when you think of home.
Love. Familiarity. People.
Have you ever been homesick? Tell us the circumstances and how it felt.
When I first went to America, I used to get homesick at Christmas. I had no idea the holiday was just about sitting around a tree and opening presents. After a month of listening to carols, hearing bells tinkling, rushing around, cooking and decorating, I couldn’t get over how quiet Christmas day was in the neighbourhood. I expected a carnival of people on the streets. I was prepared for people dropping by for a visit, children knocking on my door for Christmas treats. Instead, I got silence. Each time someone knocked on my door and thrust a present at me and said, Merry Christmas! I wanted to cry. My children could never fathom why. I wanted people to come by, take a seat and share a drink or a meal. I wanted dancing parties. The sheer focus on gift-giving or acquisition of presents crushed my spirit. Besides, the weather was so cold, and darkness descended quickly. How could one be merry while shivering and surrounded by dark and silence? I missed Ghana terribly.
What is your opinion about brain-drain?
It’s truly sad that the brains of Africa keep draining to enrich other countries. Most people would rather remain in their own countries than live where they’re constantly having to demonstrate or prove their worth, where they’re often assumed to be second-class citizens. On the other hand, sometimes people are forced to leave because of violence or poverty. In the past twenty-years, Ghanaians abroad have been returning home, which has been wonderful. Here’s to hoping this trend continues despite the sudden economic downturn and hyperinflation.
In what way does your physical location impact your creative output?
In America, I was so busy with work that home was just the place to crash and watch TV. I needed brain-numbing entertainment. I found it difficult to be creative, to touch my laptop after working on it all day. I lacked the will to even write longhand. My art was limited to singing. I find that I’m most creative when I’m surrounded by nature. I once visited a friend in Colorado and it was so beautiful waking up to mountains covered in mist that I felt alive. I wrote poetry and read a lot. Here in Ghana, although I have a study, I tend to write at the dining table because when I look up, I see trees. I love the quiet of woods at the botanical gardens and in the Aburi mountains. Something loosens inside me and ideas just flow; I want to draw, sing and write. It makes me want to embrace life fiercely.
What is your preferred mode of travel and why?
Hmmm, this is a hard one. Before 9/11, I would have said flying. I loved the mad taxiing on the runway, the speeding, take off, then the suspension in the clouds. Often, I would find myself sitting next to someone interesting and enjoy a lively conversation. Since 9/11, I no longer enjoy flying. The slightest turbulence makes me tremble. Now I love trains, like Amtrak. No one barks at me to take off my shoes, or x-ray me before letting me on the train. No one marches up and down the aisle, urging me to fasten my seat belt or telling me how to mask up in case of cabin pressure, or how to slide into a raft, yikes. The train is a hassle-free way of travelling. It feels safer and more comfortable.
It’s wonderful to rock gently on the rails. I can go to the dining car with my laptop and write or just stay in my compartment reading. I love to look out at people’s backyards and guess what secrets lurk in the homes flying by. Even the ugly factories interest me. Sometimes, the train runs over a pretty lake or river. Such beauty. I love it.
In her debut collection of poems Home Coming, Sonia Sanchez’s writes:
“i have returned \\ leaving behind me \\ all those hide and \\ seek faces peeling\\ with freudian dreams.”
What does the phrase “freudian dreams” mean to you?
In this context, Freudian dreams call to mind those who emigrate to foreign countries dreaming of a better life. If their faces are peeling, they must not be doing that well and their joy is wearing off. While travelling abroad is educational and enriching, one must ideally return to the place called home, where one feels valued and loved.
The mission to establish a colony of humans on Mars is becoming a realistic proposition. Would you agree to be one of the founding members?
Absolutely not. Why in the world would I leave my family and friends behind, an earth that’s familiar to me, to live on a planet unknown? From what I understand, once you agree to live there, you aren’t coming back to earth. I think I would die of misery from the strangeness of it. Is there even sex on Mars? Ugh. I’m no martyr for such quixotic causes, I beg.
This is the 10th anniversary of Ake Arts and Book Festival. If you have attended this festival before, please tell us what was special about your experience. If you have never attended, what are your expectations?
I had the absolute pleasure of being a guest in 2018. It was my very first international festival in Africa and I loved it. I remember several of us—Kinna, Ayesha, Nana Akua, Nana Awere, Kofi Apabli, Nii Ayi, etc—at Kotoka International Airport. We were giddy and loud with excitement. The quality of the festival was better than any other I had previously attended. Not even in America had I encountered such precise programming, nor enjoyed such pampering. I met many wonderful writers including Mona with her flaming red hair and electric smile, Panashe who had me giggling a lot, Zukiswa who gave me a pair of earrings I still have, Jennifer Makumbi who exuded grace and so many more people. Looking back, I wish I had been less shy and befriended people like Nicole Denis-Bern. I also met Yinka Ibukun who is now a friend in Ghana. Oh, the events. The book chats. The art, especially that of Abdulkareem that now hangs in my study, and Ummi Bukar whose film, Uprooted, left me sobbing. I was like a child in a toffee shop, not sure which way to look. I remember Chibundu’s rich singing at the opening ceremony, Wana’s vibrance, the dancers and, my, the production of The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives! That was breath-taking. More importantly, the connections I made led to other connections which has brought me to where I am today, an author published internationally. I can’t thank Ake enough. Medaase! Merci! Ose! Obrigada!
What does Africa need right now?
Africa needs strong leaders who are visionaries. Leaders who will recognize that their decisions impact all future progeny. Leaders who understand the importance of creating a safe, prosperous home that will draw back those brains that have drained away, that will stem those inclined to flow out. Leaders who will give space to our young, brave, brilliant minds screaming for expression. Oh, I hope and hope for such leaders to rise up and let their people thrive!