Migrating To Ghana: My Sister's Sad Experience

Many Ghanaians living in diaspora have, some point in time, weighed the possibility of resettling. Then again, we departed from the shores of Ghana with the intent of a save return. None of us intended to roam about forever. So, with this in mind, we work the long hours when or if necessary. Some of us barely have time to sleep, let alone make friends in our country of sojourn. Apart from church, funerals, and the occasional parties, Ghanaians in diaspora don’t have a life. For instance, in the Netherlands where I live, the only time that you would see a Ghanaian is when he/she is off to work. You would hardly see a Ghanaian visiting a museum, the library, or even the theatre. In short, we work hard for our monies, but we don’t spend them where we made them. Our country, Ghana, is our spending place. So, we look forward to a vacation where we could display our wealth. After all, we look better in Ghana in our fat rides than anywhere else in the world. It sure makes us feel that we have got it made, wouldn’t you say?



That said, not everyone of us visit Ghana with the intent just to show off. Some of us return to see what we could mean, in terms of business, to our dear country. We all know that the task of nation building isn’t the responsibility of just one person. It involves each and everyone of us. Quite recently, my eldest sister, after a twenty-three years stay in the Netherlands, decided to return to Ghana to set up a business. Of course, before coming to this decision, she was well advised by the so-called business experts in Ghana. They told her how much monies she would be needing. Also, she was sent a business document, which contained a detailed account, on how much she would be worth in years to come. Upon seeing the many zeroes in the document, her eyes lit with excitement. From then on, she had her accumulated Earthly belongings packed for Ghana.



My sister arrived in Ghana with all her monies. I mean, her various bank accounts were fully withdrawn--not a pesewa left in them. Mind you, I saw her bank statements with my own two eyes. I am not lying. She sold her house, quit her job, and brought with her everything to Ghana. Folks, understand that my sister returned to Ghana not selfishly motivated, but to play her part accordingly. At the age of sixteen, she left an impoverished Ghana behind with the intent to help make it better someday. So, to her, anything to help move the country forward was her uttermost desire. Strangely enough, the people whom she came to aid saw her as an outsider rather than an insider. Right from the word go, bribery reared its ugly head. My sister couldn’t get anything done without bribing somebody. The sad thing is, when the people saw that she was new in town, they adjusted their prices. All of a sudden, everything was charged in dollars instead of cedis.



Slowly but surely, she saw her monies take flight. What she came to do, on the other hand, wasn’t materializing in time. In fact, had it not been for my mother’s timely intervention, they would’ve finished my sister off financially. Today, my dear sister is back in the Netherlands. She left for Ghana colorfully dressed with hope and optimism. Sadly, she has returned to us dressed in gloom. As of the moment, she is being medicated against depression. You see, there are times when she feels suicidal. In fact, rebuilding her life from scratch has been a struggle. Needless to say, she hasn’t given up. Most regrettably, she has vowed never again to return to Ghana. And, who is to blame?





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