Village Life, Once Again

The taxi arrived in Saviefe and pulled up next to the family compound where I stayed before. I stepped out of the car and stretched a little. No one around paid any mind that we had arrived. Around the corner, Sema came running with her arms outstretched, calling my name. I smiled and we embraced. She was so happy to see me, and I was happy to see her too. I was also happy that someone was happy to see me…

Beatrice had recently moved to Accra in search of work so Sema had a new caretaker to help her. Her name was Mama. I think Mama is the sister of Cassandra. Accompanied by Mama, Sema, Emil, and Hans who joined us from the roadside, we carried our things into my old room. Nothing had changed, it looked just as we left it two Octobers ago. The same mosquito nets hung from the ceiling. The same Spiderman sticker clung to the wall. We walked into another room in the compound to greet our landlord, Mr. Koju Asafu (the grandfather of Jessica, Grace, and Kosi). We then took part in the ritual of washing the feet of guests (i.e. having a couple shots of palm wine). Mind you, by now it was 2pm and neither Samantha nor I have had anything to eat or drink since the night before. Afterward, we were served lunch and finally drank some water. Lunch was white rice with a red sauce. The sauce had onion and peppers with canned flake tuna in oil, Sema style. We ate quickly and washed it down with pure water, sighing with satisfaction. I asked Sema where the children were, referring to Kosi, Grace, and Jessica. She said that a year ago Cassandra married a new husband so they all live elsewhere in the village, no longer in the familiar family compound. I asked if her husband was nice, but Sema shook her head and said no. It was sadly quiet without the children.

After lunch we walked over to meet with Richard (the tailor). He sat on a bench with his crutch leaning against the wall (Richard is handicapped from having Polio as a child). He didn’t get up to greet us as he used to. He also looked like he’d lost some weight. However he did inform me that I had gained weight. Thanks Richard… We then walked over to the JSS and visited with the headmaster. On the way I passed Selom, who revealed his shy smile, and Grace, who maybe didn’t remember me. She didn’t seem happy to see me. We walked around the group of children who stood outside, each of them in line to be caned for misbehavior. The line was moving slowly. Usually two or three hits with the cane, and then that child would go to the back of the line. We saw the outside of the library, covered in fresh paint, topped with a shiny new tin roof. The inside was locked because it’s only open during school hours, and the teachers keep the key. This seems counter-productive since the library was supposed to accessible to complete homework in after school, or have leisure reading time over the weekend. If the kids are in the classrooms when the library is open… they’re not in the library… and when they leave the classrooms, the library is closed…

We walked back to the compound and sat with Sema for a little bit on the front steps. She told me of the volunteer, Kevin, who had been here after my last stay. Kevin wired electricity to a street light that stood directly behind the compound. He also put lights in the school, which was good. Kosi came by to say hello. He was in tattered clothes and rode a bicycle. I asked him how he was and what he did that day, and surprisingly he said he went to school, and that he was in his first year of Senior School. Sema told me later that his grandfather, our landlord, was helping to pay for the tuition. At least he was in school. But it didn’t take away my disapproval with how the situation was handled. After I showed Samantha the ropes regarding toilet and shower procedures, we began to unpack against the backdrop of bleating goats, screaming chickens, and drums. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, absent of any children. We had a small omelet for dinner with a piece of bread and a couple crackers.  After dinner I sat on the front steps to look at the abundance of stars that illuminated the dark night. But when I looked at the sky, I was looking directly at the street lamp, which not only impedes the view of the stars in the night sky but also attracts a vigorous swarm of insects. Ugh, “development.” It was better before when you could see the sky, and when there were less bugs flying about your head. That money could have been put to better use that could actually improve the daily life in the village, like fixing leaky roofs, repairing broken down shacks that people live in, or building a fenced area for the animals. Instead, there were now bugs flying into the room, all over our faces. I was beginning to feel disappointed. As a child, I loved summer camp, but when I went back in the fall to visit the camp, everything had changed. The tents were gone, the grounds were quiet, and the feeling was gone. I kept thinking of that feeling all night. How I wished Tony and Beatrice were still living in the village. How I wished Cassandra and the kids were still in the compound and didn’t have to deal with a stepfather who “wasn’t very nice,” whatever that meant. I wished the scholarship had worked. I wished the library was more accessible. I wished I could only savor and remember the first time I was here, when everything seemed so much better.