We move, Ghanaian Dreams In motion

“Have we seen the last patient yet?”, I asked as I recorded the last patient folder on my desk into the clinic record system. “Yes, you can pack up”, said Doc. I packed up and filed all the patient folders before heading home. My home is about 40 minutes’ walk from my place of work. To save money, I walk to and from work each day. Dressed smartly, in comfortable flat shoes and my headphones plugged in my ears, with music on a reasonably high level I motivate myself throughout the walk. I listen to various genre of music depending on my mood and time of the day.  Afro beats music usually does the trick. While walking, I usually like to think of it as a form of exercise and there is definitely no harm in burning some calories. This way, I don’t feel too sorry for myself and about my current situation.

I bet I am not the only one who grew up thinking I had my life all figured and planned out. The dream of graduating college, getting a good paying job, getting married, bringing forth beautiful children and traveling around the world. Basically living my best life before 30. I am 25 years old now and the Ghanaian youth will say in pidgin, “I no dey see top”. I have graduated college. I am working, but in a completely unrelated field and all I have at the moment is a million dollar dream and a hole in my pocket.

I graduated PDT University with a Bachelor’s degree in Communication Design. It entails Design, marketing and advertising and film and animation. I majored in film and animation and I currently work in a clinic as an administrative assistant and doctor’s assist. Bummer.

I grew up with the ‘follow your dreams’ notion. Right from basic school, I developed a passion for art and I wanted to pursue it. My father was against it initially because of obvious reasons. I will still state it in case some of you are unaware. Being a visual art student in Ghana typically means you are probably not very smart and you are only trying to get by in the academic world. Nobody respects you. I had the support of my mother though and we were able to convince my father about it. Not so many Ghanaian parents support their children pursuing visual art in Ghana. I haven’t been outside Ghana so I am not certain if situations are the same out there. What I am certain of is that, most famous artists are from out there. That is, Europe and Asia mostly. Art is worth millions of dollars out there and artists make fortunes from paintings and exhibitions held even for just a day. Over here, in Ghana, everyone seems to want to mooch of you and your talent. Everyone wants something from you as an artist but nobody wants to pay. I am saying this out of personal experience and testimonies from colleagues in the same field.

Visual art is considered an escape for kids who are not so smart and it does not seem to yield

much financially, as a career in Ghana. There is an iota of truth in the notion that most kids use art as escape to get an education in view of not being so smart. The visual art class usually lives up to these claims, unfortunately. They seem unbothered and they usually cause more trouble as compared to kids studying other courses. That is partially our fault as those who pursue visual arts. We can do better to prove people wrong. However, we are not completely at fault. We are highly influenced by the society and how society treats us. Our attitude is just us rebelling. We are mostly loomed over, ostracized and ridiculed. If you are graced enough to come from a financially stable family, you might have a shot at further pursuing art and making name and good money abroad. I was so naïve back then, I did not even realize I was poor. 

All I knew then was, I had food to eat, clothes to wear and I attended one of the best schools in Ghana. I was pretty good at my art. I was one of the best in my class and I won an award for it. I was certain I had an indisputably good shot at making this a career that pays. I pursued art all the way to the university. Rebuffing all negativity from society. The situation wasn’t any better in the university, the kind of treatment we received even from our lecturers was nothing to write home about but, by this time, I was already numb to all the drama that came with pursuing art. I really did not care anymore. I knew what I wanted and I was going to get it no matter what. Nobody was going to kill my spirit but myself, and I was not planning to.

Four years went by pretty fast and so did a year of national service. Not until I had personally experienced a couple of months of fruitless job hunts and interviews did my eyes start to clear up. For the first time in my life, I questioned if pursuing art was a mistake. I was hit with the reality that, where I had gotten to in life was how far my parents could push me to. Wow! This was definitely not what I envisioned. I had heard of the unemployment situation in the country but for some reason I felt I wasn’t going to be a part of that group. “I am different and I play by a different set of rules”, were confessions I made to myself daily.

There were limited jobs to apply for in my field and the highest offer in pay I received was Gh 700.00 and some companies were offering even less. Take it or go hungry. Depression and desperation set in. I didn’t know what to do. Nobody actually warns you about what being an adult and making ends meet actually entails. Usually in difficult times, having someone to blame and be angry at makes situations a little bit more endurable. Here I was, I couldn’t even blame anyone for this new phase of my life. I started to feel sorry for myself and even my parents who struggled to push me through school and now that I had finally graduated, I couldn’t even do anything to help them or help myself. For some time, I started to think I should probably have listened to my father and pursued another course. 

Our financial situation at home got worse, my mother’s business was struggling and my family of seven was solely dependent on my father’s teacher salary. My younger sibling is still very young and has a long way to go academically, fees were still being paid. My elder siblings were still trying to find foot in the world and I had just joined in. This was in the year 2020. 

The world was fighting the corona virus plague and this took a terrible toll on businesses and employees. Most companies were forced to close down and many people lost their jobs. It was almost impossible to find a job after the lockdown ban was lifted and even if you did find one, the payment offers were not so great. I took the best offer I had at the time to work as a graphic designer for a start-up company which paid GHC 700.00 and I worked hard at it in hopes of earning a raise soon. I also needed to prove that I was worth way more than Ghc 700.00 and that I could make a career out of art for myself and all those who were watching me, both far and near. Truly, after working for almost a year not only did I manage to get a raise twice, my skills had significantly improved and I had even learnt new skills, in my field and other fields including administration. The company was a start-up so my role was not limited to creative design but I had to take on other roles as there were not many employees. I learnt management, customer relation and a lot about starting a business.

Everything seemed to be going pretty well and I had started to make plans on how to help my mum get her business back on track.  Then Boom! Just like the devil purposely made Job a project to ruin everything he had as a test of faith, I was about to be the modern day Job. 

There came the cliché of the boss trying to get into the pants of that one beautiful young girl in the office. I always saw those things happen in movies. It was almost unbelievable having to experience it for myself. In order not to ruin the progression in my financial status and the seemingly good days I was experiencing and better days ahead, I took in a lot of crap (excuse me to say) from my so called boss. Don’t get me wrong, I knew my place and I stood my ground. 

Firstly, he was a married man with a child. Also, he had also stated very clearly that he only needed someone he could come to when he needed “peace of mind”. In his words, ‘a permanent side chick’. Apparently, he was tired of having multiple ‘side chicks’ and having to deal with satisfying all their needs. He wanted just one he could manage and for some reason he felt I was the one. 

Shamelessly, he made a move at me, after being rejected by my very own sister whom he had chased for months but to no avail. He had confessed several times to me, how much he “loved” my sister and how he was ready to leave his family for her. Then he came to me asking me to be with him as a permanent side chick. This is the biggest insult and humiliation I have received my entire life. No, I wouldn’t have considered his proposal even if he had promised me marriage. I know better than to have my eyes on someone else’s husband. Despite having received such a humiliating offer, I kept my cool and respectfully declined. Just because I did not want to go back to the job hunting phase again. At least, I did not want to be unemployed while searching for a new opportunity. I was making a decent amount and I was targeting higher. 

As if that was not enough, he made it a point to rub insult to my wounds consistently. To coax me, he constantly reminded of my financial situation and how he could make things better for me by giving me all the things I desired. He promised to take me round the world and this is someone who hasn’t even been on a flight anywhere before. Recounting this particularly detail makes me laugh. The Akans will say, ‘S3 kwaterekwa se )b3ma wo ntoma a, tie ne din.’ Meaning a man cannot give what he does not have.

Honestly speaking, I wasn’t even shaken by his fake promises, as I was an employee of his and I was quite aware of his financial status. He was not poor but he definitely could not afford what he bragged about. Nevertheless, I was really insulted and degraded by the number times I was told to my face that I looked like I needed the kind of help he was offering. I started to develop insecurities about myself and how I looked. I wondered if I looked that poor or I acted poor or was this man just trying to play on my intelligence. Just like I was aware of his financial status, he had probably gathered some information on mine too.

Slowly, I felt the tension between us increase as I constantly rejected his offer and a few times passed comments that indirectly told him, he had nothing to offer and I was definitely not interested in the money he thought he had. I was not just going to sit back and have him blab all the time in my face. Probably he expected it would have been easy to get to me. He hadn’t met his match yet I guess. He started getting hostile towards me at work. I couldn’t endure it anymore, I had enough. I handed in my resignation letter and left him to his so called money and company. I needed the job and money at the time but my dignity definitely came first in the situation.

After I quit and left the office that day, I felt two things, fear and relief. Fear of having to start all over again and the relief of not having to see this person’s face ever again or hear anything he had to say. I stayed at home for months trying to find a new job and I barely got any calls for even an interview. I tried freelancing but I couldn’t escape the reality of most creative designers. Clients always trying to under pay me and some never even paying me for the work I did despite the fact that I am also human, I have needs and bills to pay. Some fearlessly approached me asking for free work which I turned down without flinching. Here I was trying to get myself three square meals a day and here were “friends” trying to exploit me and my art.

Not until January 2022, I was unemployed and literally on the verge of giving up. Most of my friends seemed to be doing well. Working and constantly hanging out during weekends, some getting married, some traveling abroad and some landing big contracts. 

And there was me, no connections, no money, no job and no hope. Just a laptop, my dreams and a punctured bag of faith slowly running out. In my situation, comparism didn’t even have any joy to steal. I was already joyless and I avoided every situation that required me to go anywhere or meet anyone that would ask me anything about my job or what I was up to.

In that state, I appreciated my parents for how far they got me considering where they also came from. I appreciated the values they instilled in me because I had so many thoughts running through my head and only those values helped me keep my sanity and my morals. I never for once regretted leaving my previous job no matter how bad it got. My parents supported me all the way and I at least had food on my table and a place to sleep because of them.

I asked myself this, my parents had nothing while growing up. Not even the support of their own parents. They saw themselves through school and have been able to see me through too. They were just about my age or younger when they got married and had children. I am in a much better situation and era as compared to them. What can I do to change my current situation and turn things around for myself? 

I spent days job hunting and nights researching on how to sell my craft and also other streams of income. In my research I realized how limited our opportunities are, here in Ghana. But I also deduced that the more impossible it seems to make it here in this field, the more impactful my breakthrough will be. I spent time learning new skills and more about financial literacy. This period of my life, rather than being depressing, was more enlightening.

I had a completely renewed mindset on so many things in life. Including things I think my parents could have done to live better and things I can do to also live better. There is no end to learning new things and improving on myself.

I now work in a clinic which pays the same amount I received when I started my first job, GHC 700.00. I am working hard at things to ensure situations change in my life and around me. I will not be discouraged. This time around, I have decided to take a slightly different route from before. Rather than blindly trying to survive and focusing on just money, I am also actively working on bringing my dreams to life. I refuse to allow all those years of school go to waste and I definitely want those who wanted to use my status against me to see me and be abashed. 

I am more motivated than ever. I want to give those who are after me and who look up to me to an opportunity to live a better life and have a better and easier experience in this field. Not everyone who is faced with what I dealt with will be able to handle it. The pressure from our peers and social media is daunting as it is and many young people are falling victim and doing things that are not worth it for a short moment of glory.  Just to feel like they belong somewhere and that they are also living ‘the life’.

I haven’t even achieved a percent of what my dreams are yet, but at least my dreams are in motion. My dreams being fulfilled will open doors for others just like me, artists. 

Like the song Woyaya by Osibisa goes;

(Paraphrasing)

I will get there

Heaven knows how I will get there

I know I will

It will be hard I know

And the road will be muddy and rough

But I will get there

Heaven knows how I will get there.

I know I will.

I will painstakingly work my way to the top so that art can live on and artists, also pursue their dreams in the comfort of their home, Ghana. Until then, we move; Ghanaian dreams in motion.