Pieces from Trisha

March 9
Kumasi

On being a sports personality on LUV fm:

The technician tells me to sound more like the BBC, then he tells me to
sound more American. What he’s saying is, sound more white. I oblige, pump
up the volume, inflate the lungs and sound like a cartoon, muscular version
of myself as I deliver a promo for LUV FM's sports programming. I inhale, the tech smiles at me and I think of everything I hate about private radio.

On being a white woman in a radio studio while children discuss 50 years
of being free from their “colonial master”:



On Saturday I was a guest on a kid’s radio show. The same show I appeared
on the morning after a journalist was shot and killed in Kumasi. (The irony
of encouraging young Ghanaians to be journalists in the wake of the
journalist’s death will stick with me for some time -- still no word on
whether his death was politically motivated or if he was the victim of a
random armed robbery.) The topic of Saturday’s show was Ghana at 50 and
whether Ghanaians are truly free. The children (10-16 years old) were
astute in their understanding of the World Bank and its control over their
country’s budget and also on the understanding of military rule, which they
have known in their lifetime. Ghana at 50, what does this mean? I
contributed where I could, and said 50 years wasn’t a long time. Empty
words, really. They asked me whether the black man is capable of ruling?
Me! The white woman! One child said no, that white man should return and
rule us. I responded by saying black people are ruling countries all over
the world and that you should be proud of who you are and where you come
from. One boy said that in 50 years maybe Ghana will be more like the
United States. What a terrible measuring stick, I think to myself. I came
home, turned on the television, watched five minutes of “African Idol” and
felt sick.


On desperately wanting a steak and a glass of red wine:

Medium rare please and a glass of Wolf Blass Yellow Label would do nicely right now. Ate what I think was goat-on-a-stick Friday night, gave the bones to a friend to eat.


On wanting all dogs to be like Mabel:



Or at least be as well taken care of and loved like my dear sweet Mabel, pictured here at Brackley Beach in PEI in January. Am scared of the dogs here. I think, if given the opportunity, they would eat my leg. They look as if they need to eat at least my hand. The poor darlings are emaciated and in desperate need of medical attention.

On Ghana’s 50th celebrations:



Happy Birthday Ghana! Celebrated 50 years of independence from colonial
rule with colleagues at Luv FM and watched the parade in Accra on
television. Television watching is interactive here, complete with a
national anthem sing-a-long singing and a recital of the country's pledge of
allegiance. And loud! Yikes…I am quiet as a mouse compared to my
colleagues. Felt inspired to march home after watching thousands of
military personnel and school children march on television and through the
streets of Kumasi. Ah, the Brits mark is indelible. Wore my dorky "Ghana@50" T-shirt and literally talked to every single person I walked by, in
Twi and in English, on March 6th. Glorious, friendly and fiercely proud
Ghana! T.