My Recurring Dream-Mixed Feelings

Esi Arhin • August 6, 2021

Episode 2


Where was this place? Disoriented, not quite sure I had been where I was, I stretched out. It felt so real. I usually dismiss my dreams but on this occasion I pondered over it. Why didn't I bring some of the amazing fruits with me? Perhaps I was sent there to gather? To curb the waste or was my integrity being tested? 


Over the years, on many different occasions I've been transported to the place so many times. I always discover new areas I had not been to on my previous visits. One time I was taken to an area that had fruits and flowery plants of many varieties all together. There were so many butterflies they covered the sky. I kid you not! It was beautiful. I felt I was home each time I visited. Could this be Eden? But wait I don't recall seeing apple trees, not like those I saw in the villages in France on the school field trip many years ago. Well, just because I've not seen any does not mean there aren't any, I chatted with myself. There's been an occasion I came back to wake, faintly recalling that I may have eaten a fruit from the place but wasn't quite sure. The scent of the place remains in my nostrils for a while in the morning before slowly dissipating. I loved the place and had become attached.


In one dream, I felt a particularly strong desire for the peace and calm of the place that I actually made a plan to visit and spend the day there.

I took the Kenyan weave blanket my sista-friend Nancy gave me as a gift and a book with me. I remember exactly which book, The Thorn Birds. I intended spending all day. This was the first time I had planned in the dream to go there. On the numerous times I visited the place, I just found myself there, never remembering the journey. I set off, I walked, roamed and searched but couldn't find it. But how could I? I had not kept in memory any road signs or landmarks. I wake frustrated with tears flowing down my cheeks to my pillow. I mean real tears.


Ever since I began visiting the place, I've only ever seen one human being, a short dark bearded man. His beard was like that of Osama Bin Laden's. I took notice as the volume, length and fluffiness of it, looked unlike that of a man with a dark, dark, near purple skin tone, the Nzema kind. He was a strikingly good looking man. I don't remember what he was wearing but I do recall the walking stick which had on top the symbol of the Asona clan. His walk was lazy but firm. He didn't need the walking stick, not by the looks of him. I would peg his age around early 60's, not more.

I was squatted gathering fruits from the ground as he approached. Goodness me! Could this be the owner? I braced myself for questioning. When he got to the spot I was, he kept walking, completely ignoring me. So, I blurted out, “Sir, please do you know the owner of this place?” He turned his head in my direction but kept the pace of his walk and answered, “No I don't.” I said, “well, I wanted to ask the owner’s permission for some of these.” I pointed to the mound of fruits I had greedily gathered on the ground. Oh, he shouted, this time his voice sounded familiar, like that of Kɔhw3's, a character in the Akan Tv series produced and broadcast by GTv in the 80's and 90's. Come to think of it, why did GTv stop the production of the drama series? I enjoyed watching them. I liked Kɔhw3 in particular and that's why I remember and can pin down the man's voice. Anyway, he continued, rather unnecessarily loud, given that the distance between us was just an arm’s length. "Ewuraba," yes he said Ewuraba, "help yourself. We all do." and kept walking.


I watched him go until he disappeared down a bend in the road. I smiled, happy. Happy because he had lifted a weight off my conscience. It never felt right to take some of the fruits without permission. I did not want to steal or be accused of stealing. If the man says I can then I guess I would. It is the convention to help yourself. The man said so. Could it be a trap? Was he trying to trick me?. Again I woke, not recalling if I carried some of the fruits with me. Deep down I knew I hadn't because I still did not feel right to take what does not belong to me without definite permission.


I've been back and forth the place so many times never managing to take any fruits from the place. I remember on one occasion I came upon a large villa with pretty red roses all around it. I call it a villa because it looked much like the Spanish kind featured in "Town & Country" magazine.  I've not seen a copy in ages. I loved flipping through the pages and admired the beautiful homes and decor. This Spanish-like villa, reddish- brown, almost rusty but squeaky clean with large white windows, the old fashion kind was very welcoming.


I ventured close and called out loud to announce my presence. I felt a tad foolish but went ahead anyway, “Hello, I'm Esi. I just found myself in this beautiful place and wanted to say hi.” The house, though clean from the outside, looked abandoned. It was eerily quiet but not in a haunted way. I did not expect a response, so I walked to door and tried the handle. It was locked. Somehow, I expected it to be. I walked to one of the windows and peered in. It was dark so I couldn't make out anything.


There was a solid oak rocking chair on the large porch. I sat on it and rocked, thinking, ''this is just perfect''. Could this be a vacation home with no caretaker? I wouldn’t mind taking care of it, if only the owner would show up. I rocked some more, feeling myself falling off...then came wakefulness. 


To be Cont'd



Esi's Blog

The Days: A Review

By Esi Arhin • June 3, 2023
Ama Ata Aidoo's The Days , a picture book for children is a delight to read. Illustrated by Albert Buete Puplumpu, the book offers relatable descriptions of days of the week and their unique characters in a fun way. The theme of differences and similarities resonates clearly. The author employs the use of rhythm, rhyme, repetition and imagery to deploy the story. In comparison to how days behave, it plays on the characteristics of animals and things to enforce its message while encouraging children in an unsuspecting way to apply their mathematical skills. The simplicity of style and subject makes it an easy read for young children. At the same time, it holds a certain appeal for adults because of the subliminal meaning portrayed for those who understand the battles fought in daily existence. This book explores the possibilities in each day, painting a picture of life and its unpredictability in general. It assures the young that differences are normal and in fact to be expected. For adult readers it reinforces our knowledge and understanding of daily life challenges, leaving a sense of balance. The performance potential it holds is most exciting. Each day's character stares the imagination and evokes an actor in the reader. The colourful illustrations depict familiar images in ethereal bliss, typically that of the old village wall. The front cover captures the theme beautifully. It shows the different characters of days by seamlessly fusing together colours symbolizing the differences in days. The illustrations are very effective in enhancing the story. Although "Each day has hours of ten, ten and four..." "All the days are not equal" indeed. Children are sure to be entertained and learn about diversity. I'm enamored! The Days is far more than a good read. Children, gather round!

Navrongo Calls

By Esi Arhin • September 5, 2022
Navrongo, the capital town of the Kassena-Nankani district lies south of Paga, the main border crossing between Ghana and Burkina Faso. It sits at the tropical Savannah belt, Upper East of Ghana. I first made my way there sometime in September 2002 through a friend who couldn’t believe I had lived all 27 years of my life in southern Ghana, never having traveled up north. He insisted I needed the exposure and so he dragged me with him. He said I had not lived If I had not seen the sun rise on the Tono dam. So, one fine morning at 5:00 am, I jumped into his pick-up truck, and we headed up north where he had made a home away from fanteland. It was the longest road trip I had ever embarked on at the time, 15 hours on the road to be precise. Takeaway the breaks we took at Kumasi, Kintapo and Tamale. I barely noticed the hours pass as we chatted all the way with the company of Fela Kuti and Bob Marley playing in the background on repeat. To this day, the ride to Navrongo remains one of the fondest memories I have of traveling Ghana for work or leisure. This part of the country is home to two ethnic groups, the Kassims and the Nakanas. Historically, it is said that these two ethnic groups have had relative independence because the Ashantis didn't invade them. However certain treaties established by the British in 1898 an Anglo-French convention came up with an agreement to divide the lands. The Kassims and Nankanas were subsequently separated from their relatives who today live across the border, Burkina Faso. Older indigens of Navrongo know it as Navoro, which means (to put your foot down on soft ground). Today, the town is indeed soft ground to live and explore what new opportunities it has to offer, including access to tertiary education locally. The siting of Tedam University of Technology and Applied Sciences campus to the township has brought much warmth to the once laid back and very quiet town. Yet, it still remains relatively calm in comparison to Bolgatanga which is 30 kilometers away by road, about 40 minutes’ drive. It is an important market town in the area. The people are mainly subsistence farmers and rearers of cattle and goat. Navrongo is known for its famous mud-built cathedral and grotto, Our Lady of Seven Sorrows. Although it doesn't haven many formally designated places of tourist attraction, it is by its character a great attraction. The warmth of the people, the native architecture, fabrics, the market, the guinea fowl joints, the easy connection between humans and cattle in full glare, make up a total unique culture for experiencing. Marked places of interests in addition to the mud-built cathedral are the Tono dam, which is one of the largest agricultural dams in West Africa, also the first ever solar plantation and the health research centre. It is awesome to watch the sun rise ever so gracefully on the Tono dam.The rising of the sun is said to symbolise the journey of the sun in the sky. At about 5:00 am one morning my host and I set off on a drive to see the famous sunrise on Tono dam. The joy of watching the sunrise on the dam is next to none, with nature at its best early morning. The sun’s golden rays added a burnt orange colour to the smoky clouds. A small ball of light emerged from the sky at first. It then slowly starts to get bigger and illuminate. As if on cue birds began to chirp in glorification of the glow of the orange goddess. Its beauty is beyond description, I cannot do it justice. Suddenly, out of the blue it bursts out into a gleaming ball expanding at a moment's look. The first rays are gentle and soft on the eyes. It is a rare joy, eternally etched in memory. I have seen many a sunrise over the years but this one was magnificent, just as my host promised. It was worth every bit of the journey. One thing I found most fascinating is the hand production of ethnic fabrics by the women of Navorongo. They grow and eat their own food. They make their own beer(pito), their own beauty products from largely local materials. They build their homes with their bare hands also with local materials. They made ordinary what appeared phenomenal to me. There are some fairly decent guest houses and lodges to stay in, especially for low budget travelers. Moving around is not difficult, there are taxies and motor cars available for hire as well as collective rides. For a fun night, there are lots of drinking spots and bars to hang out and dig into some well spiced charcoal grilled guinea fowl or beef kebabs. You may sample grilled guinea fowl in as many grilling spots as you like. That is a sport in itself. I've had several opportunities to return to Navrongo after my first visit. With each visit the land and it’s people grow on me. Memories of Navrongo call. Nearly two decades after my first trip there, my heart still misses a beat at the mention of her name. Could it also be that the face of that handsome Kassim man still smiles on me?
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