A Journey in looking back
It’s Monday morning, and children are walking with a determined pace alongside Accra’s busy roads. Their strides are long and arms kick back with an exaggerated flair that gives the impression they are physically removing the distance between themselves and their destination. They navigate their way around nicely dressed mannequins, overcrowded store fronts, street merchants and entrepreneurial drivers in Tro-Tros looking to squeeze in one more passenger. Panning out, you realize that the children are matching the pace of the adults around them. Everyone here is on a mission and moves with a confidence girded in a belief that God has already ordained their success and the only thing to do is to get at it. So, everyone under Ghana’s bright blue skies grinds to a soundtrack of car horns and crackled loudspeaker sermons. This confidence is convincing and contagious. The sun hasn’t cracked its full smile yet and the city is already abuzz.
Nana pointed to one of these children and shared, “that used to be me”. In a moment, he traveled back decades and brought back stories of early morning raises, a doting but stern grandmother, and a boy obsessed with football. This happened several times throughout the trip; each time triggered by a random child and linked to a cherished memory.
I’ve had the good fortune to call Nana a friend for over a decade, but it was only after traveling with him to Ghana, that I could say I understood who he was as a person. Nana always stood out as an anomaly to me. His incredible work ethic, thriftiness, and generosity stood in stark contrast to the self-centered and self-indulgent culture we came into as young adults. All of Nana’s decisions of past, including his decision to start the non-profit, made perfect sense in this context; Nana might have left Ghana, but Ghana never left Nana.
In the dozen or so boxes we delivered to schools in Namong were items I was certain would be useless to the students and teachers. Nana however insisted on packing everything that was donated and assured me they would make good use of everything delivered. That was certainly the case. We were graciously welcomed! Every item we delivered was quickly dispensed and received with much appreciation. During celebrations, several community members commented how important it was for the children to see someone like Nana return and deliver assistance, because in his actions, he was not only supporting their education but teaching them never to forget to look back.
If these children’s success is ordained, then people like Nana are God sent. In practicing Sankofa, Nana is remembering his own journey and extending blind hands where he knows others are feeling for a way forward. The practice is life affirming and recognizes what a blessing it is to ease the path of travelers following behind. For it is us that are most familiar with both path and traveler.
Sampson L. Mekonen
Board Member