This story continues on from Part I on Wednesday. Read Facing up to an Arms Dealer in the Ivory Coast, Part 1 before continuing on to this second half of the story.
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The vehicle left the station in The Ivory Coast around 6 am. We arrived in Ghana in a border town in the western region that night. I didn’t know anyone there either and by then I had very little money. I changed the CFA to about 15,000 old Cedis (1.50 GHC) and slept in the station over night.
I bought coco and bread for breakfast the next morning. And then I was roaming on the streets trying to think of what to do. In the night I slept on the benches in the lorry station again. On the second day I realised that if I keep eating I’ll run out of money so I then decided to drink water only. I don’t know what happened. I had a headache and then sores appeared on my lips. I spent 3 good days just trying to find a place to stay. On the third day I remembered that I traveled to the western region to a village near Bogoso to work on the cocoa farm for 6 months after JSS. I remembered how to get there and made up my mind that I would approach the drivers in the station and plead with them to help me get there.
But I had no money to pay for transport.
I approached a driver at the station, but he refused. The second driver I approached also refused. But the third one had a northern name, a Muslim name anyway, and I can speak Hausa because I grew up partly in Bawku, so I explained my situation in Hausa. He said he couldn’t give me a seat, but if I am OK sitting on the roof then I can travel on top with the bags. I said, yes, I’m cool with it. I thought, beggars can’t be choosers.
I jumped on top of the vehicle when it finished loading. It rained heavily all the way. I was soaked and freezing cold in the rain and I had a terrible constant headache because I didn’t eat since the day before. We arrived at Bogoso about 5 hours later. I thanked the driver and asked him to explain to the next driver that I need to go to Buarompong, a nearby village, and see Aunty Yakosi. I explained that when we get there I’ll take the money and pay the new driver.
The next driver knew the woman and agreed to take me without the fare until we arrived there. So the car got full and we left. We got to the village and I went to Aunty Yakosi who I worked for, for 6 months between JSS and SS and explained to her my situation. She gave me the money and I came and paid the fare.
That was how I got back to the cocoa farm. I slept very well that night.
The next day she said I can work on the farm if I wish. She said that since I’m educated I can help her do the purchasing of the cocoa, the weighing and all that. I started on my new job of working in the farm slashing and clearing, sleeping in the store at night as a watchman, and going to the market in the day. I did that for about 2-2.5 months but I didn’t have peace of mind at all after my scare in the The Ivory Coast.
After two and a half months I wanted to go home. So she paid me my money and I left and came home to Bawku. She paid me more than the previous time as it was now 2001. She paid me 600,000 Cedis which is about 60 Cedis for 2 months (or maybe 120 Cedis with inflation today). This was very very good then.
When I got home to Bawku, where my parents still live now, I didn’t tell my parents about the The Ivory Coast incident. But my Mum told me she had a dream that I was being chased by young men wielding machetes and they chased me into a thick forest and killed me and dumped my body there. She said she couldn’t sleep after that. She kept pressing me when I came home that I wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Finally one evening I told her the true story of what happened and apologized for leaving in the first place and not telling them where I was going. I promised never to do that again.
I explained to her that I wanted to earn money because of the poverty situation in our family. There was no guarantee that even if my results came that I could go to university because they couldn’t afford the fees. Even for high school I got entry to Navrongo Secondary School, one of the best schools in northern Ghana, because of my grades, but my father had to sell a pig or guinea fowl to pay my fees each time. I was always the top of my class since primary school and I didn’t understand why I couldn’t keep learning at university. I never accepted that poverty should stop me. I was determined that nothing was going to stop me going to university. I said if I have to eat rocks for four years, I will eat rocks. This is why I was tough on the students who messed about and didn’t take their studies seriously when I worked in my department during national service.
My friends and family said I should go to training college where the fees are minimal compared to university and you have regular meals and allowance to buy books for studies because none of this is available at university. But I was determined to go to university even though I knew I would struggle for 4 years and my family didn’t have the money. For me there was no other option.
I never saw my friend again who took me to the Ivory Coast. To this day, I don’t know what happened to him after I left that night.
Shortly after I returned home I was accepted to UCC. It wasn’t easy, but I survived. I graduated as one of the top students in my year in 2007 and ended up teaching as an assistant lecturer during national service in the Geography department until 2008 when I earned my first real money. Anyway, I wouldn’t be where I am right now if I hadn’t gone to university.
The funny thing is I never thought of escaping Ghana to Europe like some of my brothers and sisters even though I lived next to the border in Bawku and Bolgatanga where Ghanaians often begin their journey to cross the Sahara towards Europe. Ghana is my home, even with its problems.
Now, I’m happy that I’m about to start a project in my two homes, Bolga and Bawku, because they are still as poor as when I left for the Ivory Coast ten years ago and this is unacceptable.
I see people in my village just like me who deserve more opportunities but who are trapped by circumstances often beyond their control. I am blessed that nowadays I can choose what I want to eat. And I am just as determined now, as when I decided that I was going to university so many years ago, that before this year ends the villagers who we are working with in this far northern part of Ghana will be able to choose what they want to eat too.
You’re about to meet some extraordinary people from my home town. Please stay with us for this journey.
That photo is me, last year, teaching one of YPWC’s clubs for Stand Up 2009.
GL: Fri 12th: Godwin’s Story Part II
This story continues on from Part I on Wednesday.
The vehicle left the station in The Ivory Coast around 6 am. We arrived in Ghana in a border town in the western region that night. I didn’t know anyone there either and by then I had very little money. I changed the CFA to about 15,000 old Cedis (1.50 GHC) and slept in the station over night.
I bought coco and bread for breakfast the next morning. And then I was roaming on the streets trying to think of what to do. In the night I slept on the benches in the lorry station again. On the second day I realised that if I keep eating I’ll run out of money so I then decided to drink water only. I don’t know what happened. I had a headache and then sores appeared on my lips. I spent 3 good days just trying to find a place to stay. On the third day I remembered that I traveled to the western region to a village near Bogoso to work on the cocoa farm for 6 months after JSS. I remembered how to get there and made up my mind that I would approach the drivers in the station and plead with them to help me get there.
But I had no money to pay for transport.
I approached a driver at the station, but he refused. The second driver I approached also refused. But the third one had a northern name, a Muslim name anyway, and I can speak Hausa because I grew up partly in Bawku, so I explained my situation in Hausa. He said he couldn’t give me a seat, but if I am OK sitting on the roof then I can travel on top with the bags. I said, yes, I’m cool with it. I thought, beggars can’t be choosers.
I jumped on top of the vehicle when it finished loading. It rained heavily all the way. I was soaked and freezing cold in the rain and I had a terrible constant headache because I didn’t eat since the day before. We arrived at Bogoso about 5 hours later. I thanked the driver and asked him to explain to the next driver that I need to go to Buarompong, a nearby village, and see Aunty Yakosi. I explained that when we get there I’ll take the money and pay the new driver.
The next driver knew the woman and agreed to take me without the fare until we arrived there. So the car got full and we left. We got to the village and I went to Aunty Yakosi who I worked for, for 6 months between JSS and SS and explained to her my situation. She gave me the money and I came and paid the fare.
That was how I got back to the cocoa farm. I slept very well that night.
The next day she said I can work on the farm if I wish. She said that since I’m educated I can help her do the purchasing of the cocoa, the weighing and all that. I started on my new job of working in the farm slashing and clearing, sleeping in the store at night as a watchman, and going to the market in the day. I did that for about 2-2.5 months but I didn’t have peace of mind at all after my scare in the The Ivory Coast.
After two and a half months I wanted to go home. So she paid me my money and I left and came home to Bawku. She paid me more than the previous time as it was now 2001. She paid me 600,000 Cedis which is about 60 Cedis for 2 months (or maybe 120 Cedis with inflation today). This was very very good then.
When I got home to Bawku, where my parents still live now, I didn’t tell my parents about the The Ivory Coast incident. But my Mum told me she had a dream that I was being chased by young men wielding machetes and they chased me into a thick forest and killed me and dumped my body there. She said she couldn’t sleep after that. She kept pressing me when I came home that I wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Finally one evening I told her the true story of what happened and apologized for leaving in the first place and not telling them where I was going. I promised never to do that again.
I explained to her that I wanted to earn money because of the poverty situation in our family. There was no guarantee that even if my results came that I could go to university because they couldn’t afford the fees. Even for high school I got entry to Navrongo Secondary School, one of the best schools in northern Ghana, because of my grades, but my father had to sell a pig or guinea fowl to pay my fees each time. I was always the top of my class since primary school and I didn’t understand why I couldn’t keep learning at university. I never accepted that poverty should stop me. I was determined that nothing was going to stop me going to university. I said if I have to eat rocks for four years, I will eat rocks. This is why I was tough on the students who messed about and didn’t take their studies seriously when I worked in my department during national service.
My friends and family said I should go to training college where the fees are minimal compared to university and you have regular meals and allowance to buy books for studies because none of this is available at university. But I was determined to go to university even though I knew I would struggle for 4 years and my family didn’t have the money. For me there was no other option.
I never saw my friend again who took me to the Ivory Coast. To this day, I don’t know what happened to him after I left that night.
Shortly after I returned home I was accepted to UCC. It wasn’t easy, but I survived. I graduated as one of the top students in my year in 2007 and ended up teaching as an assistant lecturer during national service in the Geography department until 2008 when I earned my first real money. Anyway, I wouldn’t be where I am right now if I hadn’t gone to university.
The funny thing is I never thought of escaping Ghana to Europe like some of my brothers and sisters even though I lived next to the border in Bawku and Bolgatanga where Ghanaians often begin their journey to cross the Sahara towards Europe. Ghana is my home, even with its problems.
Now, I’m happy that I’m about to start a project in my two homes, Bolga and Bawku, because they are still as poor as when I left for the Ivory Coast ten years ago and this is unacceptable.
I see people in my village just like me who deserve more opportunities but who are trapped by circumstances often beyond their control. I am blessed that nowadays I can choose what I want to eat. And I am just as determined now, as when I decided that I was going to university so many years ago, that before this year ends the villagers who we are working with in this far northern part of Ghana will be able to choose what they want to eat too.
You’re about to meet some extraordinary people from my home town. Please stay with us for this journey.
Godwin Yidana
Trotro image courtesy of Picasa Commons danielgr
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What an amazing story. I’m looking forward to meeting your friends and learning more about the project.