Summering in Ghana 2025

This year I decided to kick off my annual solo summer travel by going home to Ghana. It seemed right to see mom, check on the house and see what maintenance was needed. This trip home felt different. I felt more connected to the land compared to past trips. In the past, my time in Ghana felt more like a “new hire”orientation to the land as someone primarily raised in the US. This time around, the roads felt more familiar, as if I could get myself from point A to B without assistance, I understood the rhythms of life there more, and I had no rush to do anything or be at the latest cool place/club.

I spent most of my days at our family house. I sat on the balcony for hours on a daily basis bird watching, watching the trees sway from the cool, breezy weather. I took unannounced naps, the ones that creep up on you while reading a book. I painted. I had full sit down lunches and dinners with mom where the table was set and the conversation flowed.

A few years back, I commissioned a portrait that I didn’t end up liking very much. I shipped it to Ghana. I decided to paint over it. In the painting, I wanted to capture the feel of the place, all the things that was holding my attention that week. Such as mom’s thousands of chickens in the back yard farm that she tended to meticulously each morning. The red bird that found its way to mom’s cornfield each morning. The local fruits I’d been eating. The long braids I decided to get on a whim. And the endless palm trees.

The painting was done in one sitting and it was playful and unserious. I love how it turned out and will forever encapsulate this summer in Ghana.

I wandered around the farm. Mom explained the farming season to me. June and July are rainy season which also brings cool temperatures to Ghana. It was so cool and breezy, no AC was needed. Also August is the harvest season where food is bountiful. Mom told me how as a child, she remembered how August brought such plentiful harvest that sometimes the fruits would ripen and spoil before you could eat them all. She said, today it’s no longer like that. I found it interesting to hear this anecdotal take on the impact of global warming. We are from the sea, so she shared firsthand how the weather has changed and fishing has drastically changed with less and less variety of seafood available at the market.

We talked about the impact of illegal mining by foreigners to the water system and the land. I tried not to despair too much about the future. Instead, I took account of how mom had grown everything my eye could see on the land and on the nearby land owned by my aunts. I noticed how she cared for her chickens, how healthy they were. The food she grew on the land such as plantains, corn, cassava, mangos, avocados and papayas. All of which she shared with my aunts. I am proud of her. Her ability to lean into farming, something she’s enjoyed since I was a child.

I really didn’t feel like leaving the house much but I decided to go see the Elmina Slave Castle. I wandered around the castle alone. It had gotten a fresh paint job since my last visit. It also looked well taken care of compared to the last time I was there. I’m glad I visited at a time where it seems like some people would like to rewrite history and erase/minimize lived experiences.

I spent a limited time in Accra this time around. In the past, Accra felt like the place to be, taking in the new spots that everyone is talking about. This time, it wasn’t the main goal. Instead, I used my time there for one-on-one time with friends who live there.

I stopped in at a new gallery and artist residence I’d been eyeing on Instagram called Dot Atelier. It’s an intimate small gallery where all the materials used to build the gallery was sourced in Ghana. There’s also an effort to make it welcoming to the local community rather than a gallery for just the well heeled Ghanaians and foreigners.

I am leaving Ghana grateful for the slowness I felt throughout my time here. The way time felt languid and nonexistent. Even the pictures in my camera roll conveys the unhurried nature of my time here.