By the Fireside

Son of the land

I have viewed struggle as a steppingstone, an opportunity to learn vital lessons for the next chapter. Getting out of my land of birth and embarking on this journey to America was a mission of self-discovery for me. One thing I discovered quickly was how to fail!

Over the years, I had never failed any major test life threw at me. It almost felt as if I had the cheat code. Someway, somehow, I would always emerge victorious and avoid failure entirely. The challenges may have been tough, but I’d gotten tougher, and would eventually figure my way out. But that would no longer be the case when I landed in America. Two weeks after my graduate program started, I was tested. And yes! For the first time, I failed an academic test. I couldn’t get my driver’s license on the first attempt. I couldn’t make new friends. I also failed at being consistent with going to the gym. My faith and mental health wasn’t spared. I began to fail at the simplest of things. And no one in my hometown would believe that I could fail at some point.

A promising child from a distinguished family, born in the quiet town of Fodome, Ghana. In every town, the name of some distinguished citizens gave their family members a whole deal of recognition. And so, when one asks, “whose son are you?”, and I answered “Afuti”, I was accorded that immunity and preferential treatment. I grew up with such spontaneous grace. Although I may have lacked a certain pampering of boyhood, I never lacked good luck!

I grew up with such spontaneous grace.

My family was not particularly rich. However, as we say in Africa, the rich man’s wealth is in his village. The entire community came together to raise me, supported me with their little and celebrated whenever I did well. My father was particularly proud of me. When news swept across the streets of Fodome that their son was going abroad, they celebrated even more. Goodwill messages and support kept pouring in as I got myself ready.

I spent my last days with my best friends, Yaana and Berma, talking about what the future had for us, and how this journey could potentially affect our decadelong bond. We munched on some roasted corn and ground nuts, sitting by the fireside under the full moon, telling tales of freedom and justice. We spoke of the struggles of Ghana’s first president Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, South Africa’s Nelson Mandela, and Burkina Faso’s Thomas Sankara, who were part of the few heroes that truly wanted Africa free from imperialism… Well, we would miss the times at the gym. The village gym was nothing sophisticated; just a collection of rusty metals and abandoned car parts, improvised for dumbbells.

Oh! And when I fail again, I will remember where I come from, the prayers of my people, the memories by the fireside, then I will rise and try again, and keep on trying until I become successful. For struggle is nothing but a steppingstone!