OSU CHILDREN'S LIBRARY

Kathy Knowles and Adwoa at the North York Library! Photo by Tony Aidoo.

When I was young, at probably nine or ten years old, we lived in a suburb of Accra called Ringway Estates. I guess it was really a sub-suburb because the original area was the traditional land of the Osu Ga people, so the larger area was called Osu-RE. I liked Osu-RE, because we had our own departmental store, the GNTC about two hundred metres one way and down the street, there was Modern Bakery and later Afridom and Fifo which had a very friendly store manager. Our part of Ringway was also home to a busy night life with kenkey sellers, kelewele sellers and in the day time a true 'Yo ke Gari' (Gari, beans, fried plantain and zomi) seller. Ringway was a bustling lively area. We had the best Chinese reataurants, Mandarin, Pearl of the East and another one whose name escapes me. My cousin owned the Ringway Hotel, but he never invited us there and then there was the large Penta Hotel, which someone squeezed on the corner opposite the British Petroleum gas station.

Ringway had much to offer. Mark Cofie the business man, opened Rendezvous at the BP where we bought our first slushies. Later on he started a restaurant nearer Osu proper where we could buy not only slushies but doughnuts and popcorn. We saved all our money to spend at Mark Cofie's. Sometimes we bought cotton candy, which we called candy floss, at a corner store near Mark Cofie's. It was a little later that the Patisserie Mondiale opened next to Modern Bakery and there lay the greatest temptation, for Patisserie sold cake in slices! By then we were in Highschool. In those days Patisserie's cakes cost fourteen to sixteen cedis a slice, but somehow we convinced my mother that it was worth it. She always said their cake mix had been whipped to death. My sister Ako and I did not mind how much whipping the cake had taken. The icing and fillings were out of this world!

Ringway also had the best night clubs but we were not permitted to go near them, not until we were done highschool and even then, we went to those places only occassionally and without naming exactly where we were going. There was Keteke, the start-up club, where the initial middle class jammers had begun their life of fun. Old timers who had forgotten the passing of the years, still continued to visit Keteke where the youth thronged. Then there was the more sophisticated Cave du Roi . A little later, someone built Black Caesar's palace, which must have been an ugly building, but we thought it was the greatest building ever for it's imposing Castle-like entrance. That was the place where the decadent rich went who had money to spend.

Ringway was where a number of President Kwame Nkrumah's ministers and cohorts had built their homes in the fifties and sixties when Accra was becoming modern. Conversely, Ringway also boasted the Danquah Circle, named after J.B. Danquah of the opposition UNCP who had died, jailed in Nkrumah's infamous Nsawam prison. Ringway was home to the Abbey Road Boys hip boys who tried the new substance, Marijuana and suffered for it.

Our street, was home to the Polish Embassy, the Hungarian Embassy and the American Embassy Annex. We had our own cobblar at the street corner, who was also a fireman and many of our friends lived within walking distance. When much later I met my husband in faraway Kumasi, surprise, his family had just moved to Ringway!

At ten years old, the best thing about Ringway was a library my sister and I discovered, called Osu Children's library. We shared one library card and we only borrowed Nancy Drew! Back and forth we walked, returning and borrowing books, probably until we had read the last Nancy Drew. By then we were off to boarding school. (It is probably more likely that we lost a book and never went back).

So here comes Kathy Knowles, who has founded Osu Children's Library fund and who is growing libraries all over Accra, Ghana, like tomatoes in her garden. Kathy is a chance librarian, chance library builder, or more truthfully a Destiny-Librarian. She has found her calling in life as though it were a penny on the ground which she stooped to pick up. Starting her first library under a tree with her kids and neighbours kids, she has gone on to found over a hundred libraries of all sizes and shapes in Ghana. Her libraries are sometimes housed in a school room, or someone's house or held under a tree. Her foundation has also built at least two beautiful library buildings, one in the Nima slums and another elsewhere. Kathy is a champion of Accra children many of whose success in life will be directly attributed to Kathy Knowles-Canadian, and Ghanaian-child and book lover!

Anna, Tony, Maureen and I, listened to Kathy Knowles speak on April Fools day. Anna Aidoo and her husband Tony and girls, represented the Ghanaian Consulate in Toronto. Anna was resplendent in her kente kaba and slit! I really enjoyed the coffee and biscotti afterward but it was Kathy who inspired us all. We were inspired by her vision, compassion, the size of her work and the dignity with which she treated her Ghanaian employees and the many children who benefit from the library. This love and dignity is obvious in the books she now publishes for Ghana and Africa but which I feel must be read here, in Canada and everywhere else. She has captured what very few people are able to do: the beauty of the African people. Beyond that, Kathy has captured hope!

This month I have started a campaign for a children's library in the small town of Kibi which the citizens call Kyebi, in the Akyem Abuakwa Traditional Area, where the Okyenhene reigns. It has been my great pleasure and inspiration to meet Kathy Knowles.

Ohenewa-Olympic Wrestling Princess

dorothy, justo, adwoa, ohenewa and fule at Bollywood Bistro

Bollywood Bistro in Guelph is our favourite place to dine, especially when there is something to celebrate and this week there has been much to celebrate. Bollywood Bistro is owned by our friends, Guelph citizens, Harish and Neena Naidu. There's history spanning at least seven years which bind Neena and Harish, in love, to our hearts. Watching Bollywood Bistro rise from the dreams of our friends into the place of eastern beauty and culinary excellence it is now is a story which I hope will one day be told! I am always inspired when I eat there!

But this blog is not about food. It isn't even about a remarkable afternoon of recording Justo's Bubi songs and thererafter, a celebratory dining among friends, sistahs and brothas; it isn't even about the delectable samosa, or butter chicken or Dorothy and Justo's rapidly spoken Spanish breaking up the English spoken on our table, it is about meeting Ohenewa.

It happened just as we were done dessert, Fule, Justo, Dorothy and I, and done discussing the French president, Sarkhozy and his wife Bruni on their recent trip, when I used a twi phrase, "Ye n'ko?" translated "Shall we?"

I had already noticed the black woman sitting on the next table waiting for her food to be served. She swung around and asked, "Are you Ghanaians?"
"Yes," I said. Then in that instant it dawned on me. My eyes grew as large as oranges..."You are the wrestler", I said standing up. And she was.

I had passed her months ago on the 401 headed for Toronto and had read her name and Canadaian Olympic advertisement on the back of her car. It said something like Support your Canadian Olympic Athletes, beneath WWW. OHENEWA. COM. That same day I had googled her name and read everything about her on her website. I knew I wanted to meet her!

So I went over to her table and hugged her. Dorothy had read about her in the Mercury and she likewise hugged her, we moved her over to our crowded table and devoured her news, every bit of it. It was as satisfying as the samosas and chicken tikka masala I had eaten. Then we had to leave. Outside it was snowing...again. Spring was in Bollywood Bistro but outside it was winter. We know that in the end Spring will win over winter so we are making plans to connect again with Ohenewa and are planning to watch her wrestle in June. I was quick on the draw like a tourist with camera in hand. Here we all are at Bollywood Bistro making friends!

LOBELA Extensions

Historias, poetas, negras, africana, madre, abuela, traumatithandes........

I'm listening to the cadence of consonants
beyond my ability to decode
feeling peace within soft vowel sounds
past organic boundaries of comprehension
because there is no threat
of my being misunderstood
in this place



Justo Bolekia Boleka has come from Salamanca, Spain to Guelph with the soft songs of his Bubi people of Equatorial Guinea to tell us a story of songs, poetry, culture and cultures, connecting and interacting with dissonance and assonance and sometimes (we hope), in harmony. He speaks Spanish to Dorothy Odartey-Wellington's third year Spanish literature class, which on this day has attracted Hispanics and Spanish speakers from as far as Toronto and London, Ontario, to hear of the little known, one and only former Spanish colony of Africa, which has been influenced at various times by the French, the British and the Portuguese... an amazing amount of colonial activity for a country of 500,000 people living on the main land and several islands.

Of course I did not understand Justo, as I speak no Spanish but did still enjoy the sounds of the Spanish language and his gestures and expressions, and his very occassional forays into English and French. I had the pleasure of chatting with him before and after and the event and do believe I have some insight into this lecturer's philosophy and persuasion. One had only to listen to his songs, to feel compelled to enter his world, where the Bubi live, striving for victory against a past and a present filled with variations of dissonance!

It takes a Village: It takes a leader

Hillary Clinton has popularized the idea, "It takes a village to raise a child." We have heard that this is an African proverb and it sounds like the kind of nugget-form wisdom that Africans are so adept at shaping. Which ethnic group formed this proverb? Does anybody know? Is it Zulu, or Xhosa, or Ewe or Yoruba, or Akan? The idea speaks of the power of community but the effectiveness of the ratio does not cut it in todays global capitalist world...imagine 1000: 1 , the ratio of adults raising one child. This idea becomes effective when the village develops ways to raise a whole generation effectively and this is possible.....100 adults raising 10000 children. Now in her bid to raise a country, her new Arkansas -American proverb would read, It takes a leader to raise a million kids. A new ratio! 1: 10000000.
It seems people believe more in this latter ratio, for all the trouble people go to worldwide, to find leaders, make them, worship them and keep them in power!

So let us think of ways to raise the ancient child....Africa. Infact everywhere people are thinking of this same issue, from pop stars to world politicians to world banks and world bussinessmen as well as world intelligentsia, world academia, backpackers, churches, moral societies, foundations and individuals.

How hard it is! It was easy enough to exploit the ancient child and make tons of money from it when the motive was singular.....EXPLOIT! And Africa has been exploited by outsiders and insiders and continues to suffer thus. But now, because of conflicted motives, see how hard the opposite proves to be......In the end it is about MOTIVE! True change will come about when SINGULAR VISION is constructed first on LOVE and SACRIFICE. Is this possible? The commitment must come from within. But who can stand against the forces of globalism? Only China has withstood this test and is still on it's feet, with the free-world running over themselves to trade.

Sometimes it seems much easier for a person to raise a million children than for the entire village to raise a child.

The human ratio is 80: 20.... or 20:80.., This is what I have heard...
Are these statements true....?
20% of the world's population own 80% of its resources.
20% of the worlds population use up 80% of the world's resources.
20% of the world's population create 80% of the waste.
20% of the world's population oppressed 80% of the world's population
20% of the world's population provide 80% of the Aid
Which percentages do you belong to?

AFRICAN DANCE: THE FUTURE

Greg Coman took this motion photo of Stephanie dancing

This March break, my daughter Stephanie and I have been watching America's Best Dance Crew and we have been thoroughly entertained. I love dance and it's great that we can catch high level reality dance shows like this one and So You Think You Can Dance on TV! We have decided to take Hip Hop this summer. My first lesson from Stephanie has been the popular Soulja boy routine which I have just nailed. Now I must buy the music.

As I watch what these competitions do for the art, I think of course of African Dance and Africa and what competition would do for it. I am convinced that ours is the most vibrant of the dance forms and I would like to see it develop on the continent, raised to the professional levels found in shows like UMOJA and les BALLET GUINEENNE. At the moment professional pathways wish to annex African Dance to Modern Dance, emphasizing professionalism in relation to training for modern dance. This idea is so neo-colonialist as to make Nkrumah and Sekou Toure turn in their mausoleums in West Africa. Yes, let us rise up and make something out of the mother of all dances! Let us keep classic and folkloric forms alive and find the many possible contemporary forms which could exist.

Among the dances of Africa, the dances of Guinea have found the greatest expression worldwide. Little wonder, as the people whose roots reach deeply into the ancient Malinke culture have the fastest feet even if the Zulus have the highest leg raises. As well, they have the djembefola, whose showmanship excel their other drummer relations, in part, because of the portability of their drums and also because of the investment they have made as a people to their culture. They have been the greatest cultural ambassadors from Africa and we salute them. Notwithstanding there is great expression of rhythmic culture throughout Africa and we ajure the many peoples and cultures of Africa to you show themselves to the world.

One of my dreams is to found a vibrant school here in Guelph with festival and all, and to establish a professional level school in Ghana! Vive les arts d'Afrique.

Barack- Black and White or Brown

They say he is black, but his mother is white. Can we for some moments look at at his whiteness? Barack is half white and half black. Barack is the look of the future, blending hemispheres and pigments, blending knowledge and compassion, advocating hope. Since when has America been so well represented? He represents the past and the future, the master and the slave, the European and the African and if we look at his skin tone, he's closer to the Latinos, the Asians and the First Nations. Am wondering what's wrong with this picture? Nothing at all. This is 'the one world', 'it takes a village', 'big world-small world,' 'we are one', view, we have needed for so long. What is there to fear? Let the whites see their whiteness in him. Let the blacks see their blackness in him and let the many shades of brown see their browness in him. Barack for America! This is one story which transcends the borders of America to influence the world in a positive way!

Tne News with a pinch of Salt!

In Ghana, refugees from Liberia are clamouring to be resettled in the USA. Much to the annoyance of the Ghanaian government, the Liberians at the refugee settlement are demonstrating because they do not wish to settle in Ghana and want instead to settle in the U.S.A. The Ghana government feels slighted for opening their doors and giving refuge.

What a state of affairs...The Ghanaian government has said, they are not holding anyone in Ghana. They have said the refugees can go back to Liberia, the one place they can return to without needing a settlement visa or landed immigrant permit. Liberia has been at peace for probably a decade or so, since the cessation of violence from the Charles Taylor wars of civil unrest.

Here's the problem: Apparently the U.S.A. which has taken in the largest number of Liberian refugees has determined that they have filled their quota. Additionally the war has ceased, meaning that it should be safe to return to Liberia. Of course, there is a great difference between being a refugee in the U.S. A. and being a refugee in Ghana or for that matter anywhere else in Africa. If you were going to seek refuge, I'm pretty sure you ( and I) would choose the Canada or the U.S.A., places with more wealth and greater civil liberties than other parts of the world.

So one ends up in Ghana for refuge, her cousin ends up in the U.S.A. No matter where one goes, it is a difficult road. Perhaps in Ghana one feels more equal in social terms, yet advancement in life comes with great difficulty. In the U.S.A. the feelings of inferiority and discrimination are more, yet there are better opportunities for the children growing up and those yet to be born. It seems to me that the thinking, once a refugee escapes the war, is life, peace, advancement, prosperity: the desire of all men, which is called by some, "The American Dream". Perhaps it should be called the Human Dream and the "American possibility"? (These days , even the Americans are somewhat challenged when it comes to this dream.)

Can we blame the refugees at Buduburam for wanting tickets and visas to the States? Yet, we can say that in many respects, they have lost sight of the reality of their situation- that their motherland is the only place they have real and instant rights of settlement. Anywhere else, settlement is given as a courtesy, whether in a poor African country or a rich Western nation. Courtesy is best received with gratitude. This has generally not been the case throughout time and place when one considers world histories of explorations and colonizations. As a general commonsense rule, it behoves the host to be a good host, recognizing rights and granting privileges. It behoves a guest to be a good guest, contributing positively to the life and labour of the host. As an immigrant, I take these thoughts seriously.

International Women's Day

I've been wanting to show this photo of Ewurama

March 8th was International Women's Day. I am a woman and I have never celebrated it, neither in my native Ghana nor here in Canada. Even more interesting is the fact that I have never been invited anywhere to celebrate it, and I get invited out a lot.

This auspicious day (I like that word-auspicious)was birthed early in the 1900s, precisely 1908 by the Socialist Party in the United States, where women were struggling for the vote, shorter working hours and eventually, public office- in other words " suffrage." My first encounter with that word 'suffragette' is memorable because I heard it on the musical movie Mary Poppins, and Mary Poppins was nanny to the children of a suffragette, who shouted,"Votes for Women" or may be "Vote for Women".

The day was birthed more than once, as Scandinivanian socialists decreed it to life, and it is here to stay. So why don't we hear more of it? Has it only remained with suffragetes or feminists? Isn't this something all women, indeed all society ought to celebrate whether in churches or neighbourhoods or simply among friends and relatives? Shouldn't it be a day for resolutions and undertakings, not only politically but on a more local, community, workplace level where we can decide to encourage girls at school, women who want to return to school for an education, increase employment for women in management, improve pay, access to child care, security and community leadership positions? Wow, but that's all political! I guess in the end it is really about power sharing and equality.

So go out to coffee, eat, think, talk about it: Is your home, church, work place, and school a place where equality exists for women and men? If this is not the case what can be done to make our world more accessible to all?

Ghana At 51

Panyin and Kakra...a photo of a photo

Wishing you the best of 51 years,

Ghana, once Gold Coast,

Once Ashanti, Akwamu, Ewe and Guan,

Dagomba, Ga, Dagarti and Gonja

Small bites,

Thin slices of forest and savannah,

And migrating peoples, headed south

From the fifth cataract of the Nile

Then from Wagadu- the ancient of empires,

Where the snake Bida was found,

Whose head detached, flew far to the south

So we all marched south

To find the gold and rain.

On dry Sahel lands our footprints lie

Roots pierce deeper

Than our many tongues

Finding the core at the centre of earth

We cling to the genesis of one long story

Of trials, wars, divisions

and now friendships

Seeking a future bound to each other

We could be stronger

We could be taller

Allowing the past to serve the future

And if it will not

Then let it go

Let it die

As we speak with new tongues

and sing new songs

And dream a new conciousness to life

We march on to find the gold and the rain.

At 51, I daresay we've come of age

We know the stage

We can write a new play

It is time to reach ahead for a blessing

Time to grasp a better day

by Adwoa Badoe

Toronto Festival of Storytelling

It was Dan Yashinsky who invited me to tell at the 2004 festival opening at the ROM. I couldn't believe I would open this august event at the ROM. It was the closest I had ever felt to stardom. The moment was almost too big for me but I held my own. I had come far from that day in December 95 when I read my book Crabs for Dinner in a nervous whisper at the book launch. I have since told stories at the Toronto festival in 2005 and 2006. My memory is a little shaky but I think I told tales of Ananse on the Fools Night of April 1st 2007. Tonight, I found this photo of the 2005 festival where I told Gassire's Lute at the great Story Concert, with some of the finest tellers, including the marvellous Jan Blake!

Beauty Speaks

adwoa, during her ten minute speech on self re-making in Canada . In the photo, the mayor of KW and MPP of Conestoga.

I am thinking more and more about beauty. I want to speak more and more about beauty in particular reference to the continent of Africa and especially Sub Saharan Africa which is often displayed naked, hungry and sick and whose beauty struggles to be seen within and without. Last week I was at an event at which I told a story. It was a story of origins which explored ideas od identity and belonging. The story went very well indeed, bringing itself alive in ways I had not expected. Sometimes, I speak with a voice much wiser than my own. The response from the audience was tremendous and as I basked in well wishes an elderly gentleman approached and asked where I came from originally. Of course, I said Ghana. "Ghana is poor, right?" he said.

"No." I said. "We have had some struggles but we have found oil. It is getting better." I smiled at his confusion. Not for five minutes could he handle the beauty of the story I had told. The beauty of Africa! All he wanted to see was the Africa of rags and hunger, disease and despair. Yes, we know it is so but show us please....the Beauty! This year I have determined to increase my profile as a public speaker. In January, I spoke to the Third Age Learners on Awakening the Sleeping Giant- the place of arts and culture in Africa. Infact my speech was about beauty. Last week I spoke on 'Re-inventing Yourself in a New Environment'.

When I speak about Africa, my focus is beauty and possibility. It is my hope that we may all discover beauty in life; our lives as well as theirs, whoever they may be!

TOKWE DANCE

Tokwe is one of the very first traditional Ghanaian dances I learned at about age eleven and a half, at the University of Ghana. No, I was not a child genius, my secondary school, Achimota, was close enough to the university that our club could take lessons, some afternoons, at the School of Performing Arts. Tokwe is a coming-of-age dance of the people of the GA-Adangbe traditional area. The dance is characterised by abrupt changes. The rhythm song alternates between two patterns so that the dance is punctuated by intermittent staccato hip-shaking, foot-shuffling, 360 degree turns. I plan on teaching Tokwe next session and combining it with the other Ga-Adangbe dance, Kpatsa which is another precocious youth dance. Here are the Southern Volta Association dancers exiting the stage after their version of Tokwe.

Afri-Canadians Celebrate in Kitchener

The way We Ewes do it!

On Saturday, we all gathered at the Rotunda of the City Hall in Kitchener for the African Canadian celebration of Black History Month. Outside, the Serbians were peacefully protesting the independence of Kosovo with flags unfurled. They sent us flowers as our event began. If you have never been to this event, you'd do well to go next year. It gets better every year- great food, great culture/s, great company, camaraderie and Africans decked out in fashionable attire- But for the fact that it is held indoors, it would be another great 'durbar' (gahthering) called by an African king!

Although this event is minus palanquins, chieftain litters and umbrellas, all the same it calls for royalty and this time, we had none less than the mayor of Kitchener, the MP of Kitchener -Waterloo, two MPPs and the commissioner of Citizenship and Immigration of KW. Each delivered a speech of releveance, inclusion and support. The leaders of KW did themselves proud.

This time around, I gave the keynote speech, ten minutes exactly, on "Re-inventing yourself in a new environment" . I think ,I look re-invented don't you?:) I borrowed a line from the Disney commercial which boasts the cutest little boy saying, "You can do whatever you want!" Of course (from my perspective and considerable experience), with much effort, focus and determination or, and this is true too, just purely by chance! Some people are lucky, or if you are so inclined...blessed! (It is far better to be blessed!) In any case my aim was to motivate and encourage. After my speech, four panelists gave us the indepth on their experiences.... 'win big, or moderately', each and everyone of them had to overcome great obstacles. The moral.... if you want to immigrate to Canada, do it when you're young and single and can return to school and work nights, while you have no children to care for....! This is serious advice from me and them. I think we should ask Canada Immigration to post that on their website. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.

The performing group from the Southern Volta Association, gave a vibrant show of drum music and dance. The multi-generational group rendered an authentic feel of the Ewe culture of Ghana, at the end of which we all joined in with the GOTA dance and Agbadza.

I must mention the great food by the great cooks in the community, the smooth MC of the event and the drum solo of Gerima Harvey Fletcher, my friend in rhythm. A happy shout out to Phyllis Peprah who works incredibly hard for the success of this event, to Albert Soga and his family, to Atsu, Mike and Gustav, Evelyn, Emefa, Sena and Edem Quist. Here's a photo from Esther. This is how we do the Agbadza!

While We Wait.......

fancy shirt, Fule!! Fule is the director of percussion for JIWANI

So I'm waiting for photos of the Song of Wagadu: Song of Africa show. In the meantime, I have been out and about doing Blck History presentations particularly in schools. I also presented at the "Reading for the Love of it," conference 2008, where I made three interesting connections. First is Michelle Muir a Spoken Word Artist and Storyteller who took the time to come to my workshop, even though she was presenting. I am hoping to make connections there for future events. Then I met two authors, Eric Walters and Chris Dinsdale and Chris' wife Amanda. Eric Walters is a prolific Canadian writer whose books often make it to award lists for Young Adult novels in Canada. He tells me he has a lot of nterest in Kenya. Then there is Chris who teaches in New Market whose book has been nominated for Red Maple. I hope he wins the top spot!

Yes I'm still waiting for the pictures of my show and also the CD of the epic telling by the same name: Song of Wagadu: Song of Africa but today I was in New Central P.S. in Oakville for what I call "The Celebration Workshop". What a blast! The students from grade 6-8 were engaged, energetic and enthusiastic. We even had some parent participants. I was wondering whether to tease you with my new CD cover design but am thinking I'll stay with another post-show photo of Esther ( from Uganda ) and Fule. It is so nice to make a new friend and we hope to stay connected. We knew some great Ugandans in the UK when we were younger. Shout out to Lucy Lutara, Grace and Lincoln.

The Song, The Dream

Dreams came true as Gerima played solos next to Njacko

Soon I will have photos of the February 9th event, Song of Wagadu: Song of Africa. My evening went very well, with a full house on a snowy cold night. What can I say? I am filled with gratitude. I am truly grateful to all who came to celebrate the night with me from Guelph, Kitchener-Waterloo and as far as Toronto! I am winding down from the night and must soon plan to release the CD of the stories. I will keep you posted when that happens but now I must prepare to speed through February, giving all sorts of performances and workshops. May the days be bright and the winds tame. May our tires grip the road and safe transport be ours during the month of February!

Song of Africa

I am getting excited! Yesterday I was interviewed by a reporter, Thana of the Guelph Mercury, concerning my show, Song of Wagadu: Song of Africa. I am feeling the tropics in my blood inspite of the snow. Talking about snow, last friday which was the first of February, a winter storm blew over much of Ontario. I had to cancel an engagement in Alliston to stay safe. It was the same evening Phil Bast, journalist, came to shoot a video report of our practice. What a night! We were not sure of anything, who would make practice, if Phil could brave the weather. In the end he did brave the weather, a number of us could make the practice but the studio was closed: SNOW DAY! Stress! Solutions!

We ended up practicing at our church on Watson Street and Phil shot the video which you can find at http://news.guelphmercury.com/videogallery

Please note: that was a practice. The show will be so colourful!!!

February 9th, 2008, GUELPH YOUTH MUSIC CENTRE, 75 CARDIGAN STREET, 7pm

Song of Wagadu- The Ancient

Angela Abrokwa-Ampadu will perform as Wagadu's Western face, Agada! Agada is red for the unbroken bloodline with the ancestors!

Identity roots anchor Angela firmly within the cultures of Africa, as far as she is from the land of her birth.

Within identity lies strength, whether its is ancient, or whether it is created within recent memory. The strength of identity is proportional to its acceptance by the majority and the power and frequency of reinforcements, over time and ages.

This is the task of the 'griots' or the 'jeliw' who motivate and invigorate contemporary generations in continuity with the past. The story is alive, it lives in the retelling; it lives with each new deed and personality, worthy of note. It is the people who make the story. It is the story which makes the people. The story grows longer with the passing of the days.

May you live within our story. May our story live in you.

pssst: You don't want to miss our show! Feb 9th 2008

January Speaks

I've been silently watching the new year unfold its early intentions before my eyes. Unfortunately for her, many of the early goings and comings were written before the close of the last year. She carefully follows through; there is this expectation between the past and the present, something to hold the future steady on the tracks of time. It takes patience to paint the changes within a new year. Even so, colour appears on the frozen gray canvass of the new year and transcendent visions establish the substance of hope firmly within the soul, waiting to manifest as January gives way to February and March. The new year will sing its own note and already I'm humming along.

Watch Out for show-time on February 9th: Song of Wagadu: Song of Africa, featuring Adwoa Badoe, Njacko Backo, Jiwani, and special friends of mine.

Griot's Journey Poster

My favorite poster (and also DVD cover) by far: The Griot's Journey. The DVD is available, check out http://www.afroculture.com/. Soon the book "African Legends" will accompany this amazing storytelling/ black history/African cultural resource. A Canada Council for the Arts grant was accessed for this Performance-DVD project. God bless Canada!

Recent Favourite Poster

What do you do with the poster once the event is over? Answer: Blog it! One thing we are dramatically short of is photographs for our December 16th event. I hope someone from the audience sends me one.

CHRISTMAS BASKET -Afehyiapa Basket

The very first photo of our Sunday event is in. It is a beautiful Ghanaian-Canadian basket of goodness for Christmas which was tastefully put together by Dorothy Odartey-Wellington, professor of Spanish at the University of Guelph and donated for the Northern Ghana Benefit 'An African Christmas Celebration. ' The basket held a wooden African mask, an inviting red-orange drink, cakes by Dorothy( Ghana style) and the best milk chocolate bars and chocolate drink made from the finest cocoa, Ghana's own Golden Tree brand. The basket was won at a bid of $70! I have said to Dorothy: here's an alternative business idea for her, when she wearies of teaching Spanish at university. We thank all the bidders and wish everyone a Happy Christmas and the best of the New Year. Afehyiapa!

Tomorrow We Dance

photo by Anuta of Translucence, Guelph.

Tomorrow, December 16th, we dance to celebrate Christmas in warmth, with the community of friends in Guelph and to give a small gift to people faraway!

The River and the Path

wading across the floods

There's an Akan proverb which says:

"The River crosses the Path; The Path crosses the River-which of these is the elder? The Path crosses the River; the River crosses the Path- which of these is older? We cut the Path to cross the River but the River is from long, long ago."

My take: We can choose wisely where to place the path, so long as we are aware of the River and the area of its overflow.

We have chosen to make a pathway of relief through celebration. You can help make this path across the river! You can help to make a bridge!

Celebrate Generousity!

A performance of River Bride by Adwoa Badoe's class of dance students

When I was growing up in Ghana, we didn't believe in Santa and it wasn't because we didn't want to, but we had no fire places with chimney entries to let him through! Santa was only ever at the Kingsway Store, and he was black. Besides he had very little to give for the price one paid for the short miniature train ride which one took across the department store floor. This did not agree with the books we read where Santa was Caucasian, and rode reindeer accross the sky. Yet his songs found their way across the ocean to our homes and schools and we learned to sing them. Still, Christmas was fun for the new clothes we received and the few toys we got but particularly for the food we ate: jolof rice with beef, chicken light soup, spicy goat meat- stewed or fried and fufu, gari-foto, fried ripe plantains and custard-and-cake. My mother made the best European desserts at Christmas! There was that thing she call "Blancmange", I have never seen it anywhere else! Then there were the bands of masqueraders, as though we were mixed up between Christmas and Mardi Gras, and visitors coming in and out all day, bringing good wishes for the year end, and the old Huntley and Palmers gem biscuits with or without the frosting on the top, which we ate and strung together for necklaces and tree decorations. In spite of Santa's absence, Christmas was good and filled with generousity and we sang of Jesus all season long! This Christmas I am looking out for fun and rest and recreation. We want to celebrate the year end with greetings of Afehyiapa, literally a good meeting of the ends of the year, as though time was a circle which began and ended at the same point. We now translate this greeting as "Happy New Year!" We want to remember the generousity of God and in so doing motivate ourselves to be generous to people. This is why in celebrating an African Christmas at the GYMC on 16th December, we give a gift to some others to make both ends of the year meet well, for them and for us too.

CANOE TRIP - EIGHT DAYS TO GO!

"Rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub."

My anatomy teacher, Mr. Ramaswamy, was completely befuddled by the nonsensical English nursery rhymes they were forced to learn in India. Befuddling perhaps to the adult mind searching for meaning in words but not to the child who hears the rhythm inside the words and the music within the rhymes.

" Trick-a true-too, three in a canoe." (This one is mine, stretched to the core...as these men were who rowed a canoe accross a flooded field.) I wonder if these three are farmers, going to look at their wasted fields, or relief workers going to help, or stranded victims being rowed to safety or perhaps journalists looking for a story. Maybe they are fishermen looking for a river. In any case it must have been the safest way to travel , with broken bridges and washed out roads. At least they would arrive safe and dry.

In Just TEN Days- HOMES

flooded house credited to Ghana Web

The homes of the poor may be constructed without complexity, using the commonest cheapest materials, earth! But it still takes effort and skill to build! And for those who live there with the fewest of possessions, there is still the pride of ownership of a piece of God's earth and the sense of security and belonging which bind a household together. A home is where life begins, food is shared, stories are told and dreams dreamt at night for the better tomorrows just around the bend of the horizon. .....Perhaps, there will be a good harvest and God willing, the children will be healthy, some money may be saved toward the next year and those dreams of a new house built of cement with a shiny aluminum roof, may find the magic to come to life.

The FLOODS REVISITED-14 DAYS MORE

A cornfield is devasted after the September floods of Northern Ghana.

The expectation of the children, when they open hands and mouths to be fed, is among the most basic of needs. Food is the first inspiration for human activity, the primal urge to rise, search, gather, farm, emigrate and... fight. It is the primary impulse of the infant who finds her mama's breast with closed eyes and whose thirst is quenched and hunger fed, by the one activity of nursing. Food determines survival, growth, health, security, opportunity, possibility, dreams and vision. Food reassures the individual and the community of the love of God and that of their fellow man. A self sustaining people gain in confidence and self respect . They expect more of themselves because they are assured of their place in nature and their equality with all other people.

In many areas of the world the acquisition of a well balanced diet is no small feat. Even in places where food production is subsidized and food is abundant, there are some who starve and many who eat poorly. Sometimes people spend much money to eat substandard fare leading to the unprecedented rise in obesity, in wealthy nations. Starvation may kill faster than overeating. In the end, food and a well balanced diet is a basic human right which must be won for humanity!

I have heard parents cry foul when children leave food uneaten on their plates. "Think of all those hungry people in Africa!" They say. I say, don't just think of all those hungry people and gripe about a little wasted food on a plate, "Feed someone somewhere and better still help someone to feed themselves." What does food mean to you?

Fifteen More Days to Our Benefit for Northern Ghana

..my friends from northern Ghana holding a drumming party for me in Accra....

In September, floods ravaged the Northern and Upper regions of Ghana as well as Burkina Faso. Burkina Faso opened up sluice gates to a dam built on the Volta River, further flooding the region. More than twenty people died and 300000 people were displaced as their homes were swept away. Nine or more bridges were lost and the roads all but dissolved under the rising waters. The Northern and Upper Regions of Ghana, areas which are drier than most parts of Ghana, received about half of it's annual rain fall in those few days of incessant and heavy rains. Cropped fields were swept away and people fled here and there to join already overcrowded families living in difficult situations. The aftermath of such floods include water born diseases such as dysentery and cholera which can spread so quickly among vulnerable societies, not to mention malaria of the drug resistant types which is already endemic in Ghana. Then there are the mental health and emotional concerns for those with so little who have lost everything, for up to 80 percent of the people in this area earn less than $1.00 a day.

It is several months since the disaster itself but responses and actions tend to be more hesistant and difficult to achieve in certain places, and even in the USA where Katrina spilled her waters a while ago, we saw the helplessness of the mighty USA. The thing about disaster is that, while it is so devastating, it gives the worldwide community a chance to embrace a certain part of the world, if only for a short time. And within this embrace, if it is done with the right spirit, is the culture of our communal worldwide healing as humanity.

THE END of NOVEMBER

Jiwani performing Sunrise Village at the GCDF 2006 at the Exhibition Park

The end of November has brought the snow at last and also rain. December calls already and Christmas lights are strung here and there on denuded trees, welcoming the season. The lights cheer us up, giving us something to look forward to, as darkness overcomes the greyness of our days.

I have heard back from my publishers, and it is looking good for one picture book and my young adult novel. I am so pleased; so thankful! The good news includes a publishing break in Ghana, West Africa, so November's end has brought me great news. In Guelph I am in the thick of producing an epic storytelling CD to be released in the new year. I can't wait!

We are planning a Christmas Concert for December 16th: Jiwani in Concert with Adwoa Badoe. Two Ghanaian singers, Janet Akuamoah and Araba Badoe will also sing for us and Organic Groove will also be performing. It is looking good. Tickets are only $10 and will go toward relief for the victims of the devastating floods of Norhern Ghana which caused a number of deaths and displaced 300000 people.
email me at adwoa_badoe@yahoo.ca if you want information of this fun warmth-giving performance in December. Enjoy and be a blessing!

LATE BLOOMING

There is this gratitude we have for those flowering plants which bloom late, just as fall gives up all her fiery leaves for mulch and the sun kisses the sky a sleepy goodnight or good-day. It's hard to distinguish between dawn and dusk and the sometimes even the middle of the day deceives. And in my garden, a late blooming Black-eyed Susan or a cousin to her, unbelievably winks at me while the garden has already began the dirge, that Requiem in a minor key, which will sound for months for the dead and the dying. It is the Late Bloomer: the forgotten, the dismissed, the outcast, whose time has come to shine. What hope that nature advances to expectant hearts: for SARAH, a child in her old age!

I came accross information that Morgan Freeman acted in his first recognizable movie part after age 50 and yet at 70 years he has risen to become one of the best known actors, black or white, while those early birds may have long since thrown in the towel. He is known for acting authority parts whether he is a jail-bird, or a chauffeur, full of advice and wisdom and those extra smarts that catches the felon. He's even acted God in Bruce Almighty!

Cheers to those who are still waiting to bloom, the season is changing!

photo credit: http://www.eonline.com/

storyTeller

People say we are not necessarily what we do but I do think that to some variable degree we are indeed what we do. So much of the way we see ourselves, how we portray ourselves, our self assurance and self confidence arises from the fact that we are professional world class chess players or we teach at university or have published a book, or that we treat patients at a hospital or play major league baseball or mother children in comfortable child secure homes. It's just the nature of things, even though we believe that before God, we are simply human and who we are is defined by the essence of our spirituality, personality or attitude.

Ever since I entered the outcast world of the artist, I have struggled to define myself. The centrality of my themes and ideas lie within Africa yet I find myself composing in various media and oftentimes crossing geographies and histories inhabited by people of African descent. It has occurred to me that I am quite simply, a teller of stories, whether, I write them in picture books, or collections, anthologies or novels; also when I perform oral telling or song or dance and even when I'm privilleged to teach or preach or take medical histories of those patients of mine, once upon a time, in far away Ghana, and write a daily report of their well being on a hospital ward. I have discovered that in all of these the connecting link is the STORY and how it tells through me!

Young Street Mission

Storytelling at YSM over the months, to a great group of seniors has brought many storytellers to the fore. I began during the winter regaling the seniors with stories and songs and of course the drum, all the time with the aim of getting their memories awakened and their tongues telling. From an uncertain beginning after lunch on Tuesdays or Thursdays, we began to explore personal stories of all kinds, folktales and humourous short stories and jokes. I often began by singing, and followed up by telling folktales. Most of the seniors from the Caribbean recognized Anansi stories. Then I began to work in the personal stories and if anyone was counting they'd be amazed at the stories we shared. I learned three songs from the seniors and I taught them about five songs. We even danced to our songs and also to the drum.

Today the children from the homework club were invited to share stories, song and dance with the seniors. The many who had never heard a story from a grandparent did so, as well as a poem, two dances, a chant and a rhythmic song. Such a blast. It was pleasant to hear a good story from one of our young guests today. It was a story she had heard from her grandfather. I will be putting the stories together for the seniors soon. I am grateful to them for allowing me to observe the workings of story in their midst!

Late Great October

My 'funlight' this month has been storytelling for seniors at Young Street Mission. There I recounted a personal bike accident story as well as a song story I had learned in elementary school. My teacher Miss Quao had a particular affinity for what I might call English blues and it was with much fun that I sang "I Married a Wife, O then," to a rousing chorus from my senior audience. I have been telling stories to the seniors for months and now some of them tell their own stories, mainly personal stories which make for much laughter and nostalgia. We also sing together remembering Caribbean songs, Linstead Market and "There's a Coloured Girl in the Ring." To this we add African call and response songs and sing about peace and food, as we tell of Anansi and Ijapa and other rascally story characters.

I am getting stories ready for the recording of my next project Song of Wagadu, Song of Africa and looking to show this performance in other venues. I have been thinking about beauty, destiny and the beauty of destiny. I like to think that I am like ancient Wagadu. Whenever the guilt of men causes her to be lost, she gains a new beauty which makes the splendour of her next appearance even more glorious. With this in mind, I enter into greater freedom as my birrthday approaches. I have chosen the beauty of the flamboyant tree of Ghana to represent my soul aflame with passion and liberty. Hooo Dierra, Agada, Gana, Silla, Hooo Adwoa!

Great October

Interactive storytelling at it's greatest 'get down and do it.'

Two competing energies in October: I'm still in the grip of the writers' itch and have indeed sent off one manuscript and close to sending two more, perhaps next week. It's been a very creative fall so far, story plots for oral telling and for writing are falling into place in my mind and on paper. My stories are written down for the February show. I'm thinking of calling it, 'Song of Wagadu, Song of Africa! I keep changing the title and who knows what I'll end up with?

In the end, I did not complete my transitions and I'm living within a complex system of tides, rising and falling, shifting me this way and that. I've been dancing, but it was hard getting back into it. Thankfully our end performance for the Guelph Go-Go Grandmothers was very well appreciated. It seems we needed the energy of performance to bring it all together. We got our edge back and I was pleased to perform Spirit Alive as a solo piece.

I met the writer Gail Nyoka, lovely lady, and purchased her book: Mella and the Nánga. Abeeku came to visit after a couple of years. My eyes are opening more to see the wonders hidden inside our ordinary lives. Wynne came to visit for Thanksgiving, which this year ended up exclusively family. He came and left and I didn't fall apart, although I experienced emotional fragility. I waited alone until the bus left with all the blessings I could call for. The season's established with cold winds and rainfall and the leaves in bright reds and orange littering the grass and the side walk.

My thoughts remain circular: I want to write more. How do I get better? How do I solve the problem of marketing and distribution. I have to think more business. I want to stay creative. At least I'm writing. At least I'm happy and I celebrated my anniversary!

Adwoa's SEPTEMBER

The month is rushing by at an incredible speed and I have blogged less than ever since blogging fever overtook me. I think for me, it is still about seasons changing and transitions. I'm looking for the ledge to the next level. My mind has never been busier, creating and networking. I perform too but that's not really part of my preoccupation now. No I'm thinking business promotion and marketing, SUSTAINABILITY. I like that word.

I like to think and I like to pray. Sometimes my prayers are just my thoughts and in all this I hope I am finding the path through the complexities of my creative and productive life. I trust I am daily approaching the light.

Eden Mills

Stephen signing books at Eden Mills

It's one week since the Eden Mills Writers Festival at the Hamlet of Eden Mills. For the first time, I saw the opening ceremony and not just a poster of it. I saw the sunshade bearers holding up their fanciful umbrellas in mustard yellow and red following the Mayor/ town crier who rang his bell every few steps or so. And of course we applauded the speeches given in the car park of the community centre.

The reason I actually saw the opening was because I was in Eden Mills early to attend church, on the invitation of Dr. Mary Rogers who subsequently hosted my books and me at the church tent, set up for the festival. It was a moist grey day and chilly. It reminded me of the UK. But I was in a great mood because Maureen had accompanied me. Where Maureen goes, adventure follows. Our day was eventful in many small ways but I must make a note of the readings we heard.

The first reading was by Stephen Henighan, writer, professor of Spanish literature and my friend. He read from "A Grave in the Sky" which will be launched in Guelph on September 25th. Last year Stephen and I listened to Sandra Sabattini and Margaret Attwood read from the same lectern at "The Common." Incidentally they all read short stories. Is that telling me to try short stories next, hmmm....

Later on I listened to Lawrence Hill read at "The Mill" from "The Book of Negroes". I had missed his reading at Waterloo earlier in the year, although I later bought the signed book from Wordsworth, the book store. I heard another reader whose famous name I can't remember, and finally I heard Edeet Ravel, my friend and writer read from one of her Pauline books at "The Mill". This year, for the first time, I missed out on the Jenny's Place readings for children. However, I stopped opposite Jenny's place to say hello, to Renna Bruce who writes the Jazlyn J series. I bought two of her books and had my caricature done by Robin Oakes, cartoonist/illustrator.

More or less that was my day at Eden Mills, except I met Chris Wilson, Janet Ragan, Jo Ellen Bogart and Eddie, singer songwriter, Bea, dancer, and Evelyn, who has a road named after her family in Eden Mills. I also met Nathan and Zadok, two dogs, and Malachi and Hannah, two cats and Elizabeth and Donna two women who shared the tent with us. I ate Rice Masala at the Bombay Cafe stand and begged Maureen for some of her butter chicken, but the coffee run out, which wasn't good on a moist chilly day. There were friends and laughter and hugs and weatherproof jackets and as usual I enjoyed my day at Eden Mills.

TRANSITIONS 3

Performance of "Rhythmic Joe" to djembe at St Marys Storytelling Festival. It's my back!

It's no wonder I haven't blogged for a while. I am in transition. Transition, reminds me of child birth, it describes a moment in labour when the cervix is very nearly effaced and all the mom's impulses are to bear down and push. Everything is ready, well almost, just a bit of cervix which is rapidly giving way....what a moment! The pain, the anticipaton, the anxiety the madness......

I have sent one manuscript to the editor, I have had two returned..."we kept it so long because we thought it was worthwhile, so it had to make the rounds for all those who read for us. We found them both worthwhile, especially one, but in the end we are a small publisher and we are not able....." end of quote, beginning of disappointment. No! Hope! It's a good ms. and now I know.

My poetry is back too with much useful critique...hmm, but there is more hope. And am waiting for news of the big manuscript. I keep so much hope and courage in my chest. Someone said if we kept bees in our chests they may turn our failures into sweet honey. Who can keep bees in their chest?

This week I have reworked Griot's Journey, performance DVD, into a manuscript and now I work in secrecy on my new idea. It's the BIG one! I work within stolen time because the season has changed already and I have began classes, and performance.

TRANSITION....tension, anxiety, madness.

Other things are changing too. I will be giving up stuff close to me to attain to new goals as I come close to certain facts. Someone said for Vision you must look out of the window, and for Mission, into a mirror. I looked into the mirror and now I must change.

TRANSITION...imminent happenings. Vision won't change but it could grow. Mission may change as we see better, and if that doesn't, strategies definitely should.

TRANSITIONS 2

recently at their prom and.....

Still on the journey of seasonal change: the kids are back in school. Last Sunday we drove five hours to leave our eldest at university. What a hodge podge of emotional soup as we found our way about and got him registered and settled in his house and then met with long time friends, who we hope will act as surrogate families for him. Not that he is wishing for that, at his age it's all about freedom from family rules but hopefully not expectations. Support is so essential, I keep telling him, particularly for my peace of mind...ha ha.

Speaking of support, we found the university welcome so assuring and supportive. Helpers everywhere, and so willing, lugging luggage cheerfully while hiphop music blares from ghetto blasters, identifying the area as youth zone! I am still in transition, folding his left behind stuff, praying twice daily for him and still connecting with the support staff, I'm building all around him. I pause and laugh, I remember when I was just beginning university in Ghana: what an absolute blast it was and I never once felt my parents' anxiety, after all I was the fifth to go. They had seen it all before!

TRANSITIONS

Holidays are nearly over, and school is here!

It's the time of year, the changes are bigger than occur on January 1st every year. We should be saying Happy New Year as the new school year begins. So many lives and activities follow the school calendar, other than kids going to the next class, which on its own is big enough. All over the world, millions of children are caught in the same activity whether they are advancing through university or walking miles barefoot to attend elementary school in remote villages. Extracurricular activities are linked to the school calendar: kids in sports, music and the arts are beginning new things or continuing with fresh impetus. People choose this period to relocate and purchase new homes so they can begin at new jobs, and new schools etc. And we are caught in the thick of things, with our kids advancing through the school systems, changing schools or changing classes. I am in transition as my mind grapples with what is passing and what is coming. I have struggled to end things well as the days sweep by in a big hurry and the future presses into the present. Am I ready for classes and recordings, performances and workshops? Is my writing done? When will I find the time to perfect draft manuscripts as the season changes. Transitions are hard and unsettling, yet they are real and necessary. In the rush it's important to find the time to rest and think as well as to pray and give thanks for what has been done, what there is to do, and what will be done. This the reason I have been silent for a week: TRANSITIONS!

PEACE MUZIKS

One week, at peace
Between the lake and the dining hall,
You cajole the sun to smile
Erasing dark lines on a sleep-starved face
Morning has broken
And among strangers
The sound of voices and violins
The clarinet, the oboe, the flute
And the jembay
In choral harmony
And for a little while
Peace fills the spaces between
Fallen leaves in summer

Back to Blogging

So we are back from an awesome week at CAMMAC camp at Lakefield where music meets nature, and for me, a curious ability to write with ease. I finished the second draft/ edit of my young adult novel: Some way to grow. I almost can't believe it! I even have a new poem for CAMMAC and photos too.

Lakefield College School reminds me somewhat of Achimota School in Ghana which I attended in my teens, except that the dorms have two or three beds and not twenty, also Achimota School didn't have its own lake but a swimming pool. This may be the reason I have such an affinity with the CAMMAC camp. We made several new friends, Toni Riccarda with whom I share a friend from my high school days, Julia who took my class last year, Fran who took my class years ago in Guelph, Maria who has invited me to stay when I'm over at Don Mills. I also met a fellow Guelph dance teacher/enthusiast, who taught me a swing step or two.

It was great to reconnect with some of the members of the faculty: Jenny Crober, Marion Roy, Joy Simmonds, Ilana Ilic, Colin Clark and to meet others anew, Barry Peters, Gabriel Spiegelschrift and the talented Kraus family. The young people at CAMMAC were such a delight to work with even more so than usual.

I'm also very pleased to be blogging again.

CAMMAC at Lakefield Peterborough

If you don't read new stuff it's because am away at CAMMAC camp!

For the love of music,
All paths lead to Lakefield, Peterborough
To play in orchestras and companies
Latin groove bands and Steel Pan too.
There'll be Djembe drumming,
dance and theatre
All things connected to music and fun
in nature's bosom,
complete with lake, trees, grass
And tennis courts too,
never mind the insects
they belong there
where CAMMAC meets
At summer time.

Living in Tents- new bonds of friendship

My friends Joyce and Sally at the Multicultural Festival in Guelph in June.

The idea comes clear out of the blue skies: leave your father and mother and the land you have known since birth to a place that I shall show you...., well that was more like Abraham's call from UR to Canaan where he settled, living in tents. How did the rest of us embark on this quest for the good life? The stories are many, and not only about refuge or adventure but almost always, it is about a perceived better life for self and family. The greatest disruptions, once one begins on the path of immigration, has to do with the fracturing of significant relationships, leading to loneliness, as one begins to explore and find themselves again, changed and yet the same. For me the greatest impact was on my career, and as that changed, I changed too as a result of the struggle, the letting go and the development or acquisition of new ideas of being.
The joy one finds through all this, is the forming of new bonds of friendship, a newer appreciation of the past that was left behind and the manipulation of the future to suit ones dreams. But there is always the grief for what was lost, nostalgia, intangible and persistent.

You will find a part of my story in the anthology, "My Wedding Dress", under the title Witness in Silk, published by Vintage Canada, Random House.

Pot of Wisdom and other works

After a a trying and emotional week, I tried to return to my writing, between workshops and performances. It's been an uphill task. I must admit a curious depression, such as people like I have, who live on the edge of our adrenal glands. So I have struggled but I have also managed to learn a bit more about RSS feeds, (Feed Burner in particular )and I have joined two aggregators: African women's blogs and Afrigator. I have also added Koranteng's Toli to my links, and Pambazuka.org to what I browse on the web. For the first time I submitted someone else's article on my blog- and I'm getting ideas.....oooh!

My writing finally began to pick up and my second draft has started on a good footing, my confidence grows. My working title is Between Sisters/ Someway to grow but I am sure it will change. I wonder if that is worth starting a blog over.

Koranteng is a very very interesting blogger and I suggest you read his blog by clicking on my link. He gives the definition of Toli and proceeds to tell you more. And he's got tons of photos on Flickr. If you're interested in what Africans are saying, got to Afrigator. Google will bring it up for you.

Why did I call this post Pot of Wisdom? Because Koranteng was looking at the book recently and mentioned it. Also Pot of Wisdom has done best so far, opening doors for me in performance storytelling, with rights sold in Ghana for a made in Ghana version and translated into Portuguese for the Brazillian market: Historias de Ananse.

Wait it's not my only book in transaltion: My Sister Julie is now Ma Soeur Julie and I will keep you posted on what is going into Kinyarwandan and French as they happen. But I move on, forward ever, waiting to hear from three different publishers, if they will publish my works. Oh how I hope; how I pray for good news and all the while I push on with Between Sisters soon to be named as her character develops. This uncertainty, the priceless life of a writer!

The New Ghana Cedi

Guelph is an artsy city with budding festivals, which has developed around its university. Artists and academics hang out together at the many eating places in the downtown core and the places where live music plays, where we dance, or nod or chat. Atsu is a dear friend from Ghana with a great intellect and the best dance moves. There's so much I learn from him. A.B.






Is the value of the new Ghana Cedi higher than the value of the US dollar?
by J. Atsu Amegashie

In July 2007, the cedi was redenominated through the introduction of a new currency, the Ghana cedi. One Ghana cedi is equivalent to 10,000 cedis. Currently, approximately 0.92 Ghana cedi = $1. Based on this, I have heard people argue that one Ghana cedi has a higher value than $1. This article is triggered by such erroneous arguments.Suppose your monthly salary is $4000 and the price of food is $100. Then you can buy a maximum of 4000/100 = 40 units of food. Suppose now that the government or your employer takes two zeros off your salary. Simultaneously, two zeros are also taken off the price of food. Then the new salary and price that you face are $40 and $1. Again, you can buy 40/1 = 40 units of food. So the quantity of food that you can buy has not changed. Economists say that your nominal (monetary) income and prices have changed but your real income, which is the quantity of good and services that you can buy, has not changed. It is still 40 units of food. Since money is not an end but a means to an end,economic performance is judged by real values not nominal values.In general, when all nominal incomes in an economy increase (decrease) by x% and all prices also increase (decrease) by x%, there will be no change in real income. The inability to understand this is referred to by economists as "money illusion". Money illusion is an example of what psychologists refer to as "framing effects".Suppose the price of kenkey is 10,000 old cedis, then one new cedi (i.e., Ghana cedi) is enough to buy a ball of kenkey because the price of kenkey in terms of the new cedi is 1 Ghana cedi. In effect, the government has taken four zeros off the old cedi but it has also taken four zeros off the price of kenkey and all other goods and services in the economy. Someone whose salary is 500,000 cedis will now receive 50 Ghana cedis. By taking four zeros off the old cedi, all incomes (in terms of the old cedi) have been multiplied by 1/10,000 to get the Ghana cedi (new cedi) equivalent. Similarly, all prices (in terms of the old cedi) have also been multiplied by 1/10,000 to get the Ghana cedi equivalent. So just like the argument above, there is no change in real income.Like any currency, the old cedi could be used to buy bread, kenkey, waakye, the US dollar, etc. The price of the US dollar in terms of the old cedi is 9200 cedis. Once we understand that the US dollar could be treated as a commodity like kenkey, the exchange rate of 0.92 Ghana cedi = $1 is simply the consequence of scaling all prices and income by a factor of 1/10,000. The exchange rate of 0.92 Ghana cedi = $1 does not mean thatthe cedi is valued higher than the dollar. This is the monetary or nominal value of the cedi. The real value of the cedi is measured by the quantity of goods and services that the cedi can buy. As argued above, this has not changed. Indeed, ask yourself this: can 1 Ghana cedi buy more in Ghana than $1 in the USA? The answer is no. This is basis of the distinction in economics between nominal exchange rates and real exchange rates.
What the government of Ghana has done can be illustrated by using Fahrenheitand Celsius scales for measuring temperature. We know that 32 degrees Fahrenheit = 0 degree Celsius. If we were to rescale or redefine this to be 50 degrees Fahrenheit = 0 degree Celsius, this will not make the USA warmer or colder than Canada and other countries that use the Celsius scale. We have only changed the nominal value for “measuring” temperature but not its real value.Recall that prior to 1983 when we had a fixed exchange rate regime (remember there were no Forex bureaux then), there were periodic devaluations of the cedi announced by the government. However, devaluation is different from redenomination. In the case of Ghana, devaluation meant a given percentage change in the nominal price of the dollar in terms of the cedi, without a corresponding percentage change in the prices of all other goods, services and incomes in the economy. Since not all incomes and prices were changed by the same percentage, this had real effects on the economy even more so because the cedi was over-valued. In contrast under redenomination, the prices of all goods, services, and incomes are changed (in the same direction) and by the same percentage.The crucial ingredients for sustained economic growth are good political leadership, accountability, and sound macro economic management. As argued above, this redenomination per se will produce no magic wand. The Bank of Ghana somewhat shares this view in its document titled “Redenomination of the Cedi”: https://webmail.uoguelph.ca/services/go.php?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.bog.gov.gh%2Fprivatecontent%2FFile%2FPublicAffairs%2FRedenomination%2520of%2520the%2520Cedi%281%29.pdf. However, the good thing is that redenomination solves the problem of carrying money around in plastic bags, at least for a significant period of time.

*The author, J. Atsu Amegashie, teaches economics at the University of Guelph, Canada.

Going Somewhere?

We bought the shoes on the same day. We bought them at different shops. We were going to the same place, The River Run Centre on May 10th, where we had both been nominated for the Women of Distinction Awards. We don't usually wear high heels, especially the pointy kind but this was a day we both thought elegance was in demand. We met and connected, two artsy women in similar shoes: Jessica and Adwoa. Jessica is a potter, who does fine art with ceramics. Her beautiful mural adorns the wall of the Guelph Youth Music Centre.

Strong Women

what a resemblance!

Quite by chance, I met Anna Aidoo at the offices of Kingdom Covenant Ministries. She was there to see the overseer, Dr. Pat Francis. I was there accompanying a friend who had business at the church. Anna's organization had just hosted the African Canadian Women's Achievement Awards in Toronto on the 28th of July, which she said was a tremendous success. Unfortunately I was unable to attend. She had a select group of women, including Dr. Pat Francis and Joy Nneji receive awards. Anna is a great encourager of women of Africa and Diaspora. She made a comment to me that she planned to go to Ghana, to see what strong women were doing there. "Yaa Asantewa cannot be the only woman of note in our entire history," she said.

I acknowledge that I am one of the many fixated on Yaa Asantewa, Queen of Edweso. My first novel, "Hidden Peace" which is yet to be published touches on the history of Ashanti and Yaa Asantewa. While I was in Ghana in April, my sisters told me of an excellent play they had seen recently,"Atuo ato Bari", translated "There's a gunshot at Bari", one of the many ways Ghana was celebrated in her 50th year of independence. Ghanaians love the entire legend of the courageous queen of Edweso who took the final stand against the English at the colonization of Ashanti, and lost.

Here's a fun photo we took with this rather short statue of Yaa Asantewa, which doesn't do justice to the descripton in the history books that she was a a tall and formidable woman. This statue stands in the sculpture park next to the National Museum in Accra. Contrary to what some people think, Asantewa did not fight as an Amazon or a Dahomeyan woman warrior in the last war, although she was the commander in chief.

A Day Like This

(for Hetty)


A day like this,
like no other recorded
A day like this
like no other created
Or composed, or ordered
or painted
but allowed to drip water colours
the tears in my eyes
glimpses of affect
which pass between
my heart and my mind
reflecting thoughts of you
in pink and purple
only you
while paths connect
in degrees related
by your being here
on a day like this

CUTIE

Especially the children enjoy the sound of the drum and the activity of drumming. "Listen to the rhythm of my soul!

UNIQUE

So what does it mean to be fourteen? Is the world your oyster? Not yet, I hope. There are dreams and hopes of eventful days, discoveries... all kinds and possibilities. July is one of those months which mean so much to me. Apart from it being the heart of summer and holidays there are dear ones to celebrate: There's Yaw, Kofi, Dorothy, Ako, Araba, Matthew and a little girl who is one today. Happy Birthday!!