Kristy Minor is an environmental engineering graduate working in Ghana as part of an Engineers Without Borders initiative. Currently working with Community Driven Initiatives for Food Security (CIFS) she is co-ordinating projects and helping to build the capacity of local government and its sub-structures. Kristy will continue to share her experiences and challenges on Red Canary

My favorite person. The Chief of Singa.

“Kristy! It’s been a long time.”

I return Chief Zack’s greeting. Traditionally, the chief is supposed to be greeted first, normally lower than him with your hands closed. These traditions don’t really apply to me but I try my best to show respect, as he is one person that I trust and respect fully in Ghana.

I admire him and his life. I only wish I had more time to learn from him.

He tells me about an NGO that will be hosting a cultural dance for a group of westerners. Red flags start popping up in my head, with visions of white people coming for a “village experience”.

I agree to come as I am intrigued with the idea of seeing where his family comes from.

I am also ready to challenge these westerners’ approach.

To Singa we go

I have decided to go with Amshawu, Chief Zack’s younger sister and her child Windnam , both of whom I spend a lot of time with. We board a tro-tro (passenger van) and wait a couple hours for it to fill, while sucking on some mangoes.

Me dressed in traditional Dagomba garb

Finally we are off. It takes about 2 hours or more to reach the closest village to Singa on a very rough road with large trucks carrying sand from the river banks.

We get off the tro-tro and carry luggage filled with food and water down to the river. At the river I see the pumping station which pumps water for all of Tamale (some 300,000 people) and realize the water pipe I saw along the road was the supply pipe.

After taking a course on water supply and distribution in university, I decide it’s really too small. No wonder we have a water problem in Tamale.

Not just one water problem

Some small kids are splashing around in the water, and I put my dirty feet into the water and wash my arms off. I look over to another young girl doing the same, and realize that she has scars from guinea worm infections.

I immediately get out of the water, asking if it is infected with guinea worm. “Yes”.

My family’s Grandmothers and me

Oh god. How did you get it?

Apparently standing in the water will not do it, but drinking it will. I look over at the kids splashing around, in water up to their chins and frown.

Right. Guinea worm. Still a problem.

My mind shifts to the canoe approaching. A small but long wooden canoe, filled partially by water.

We load the canoe with all our luggage and about 6 people. We take off and I look into the water brimming the sides of the canoe.

We reach the other side, only to realize that there is no one waiting for us, only a motorbike. Singa is another 10 miles. Somehow I end up on the back of the bike, sitting behind the man who is driving, a very large Ghanaian woman, and then me and my backpack of course.

Perfect. The sun beats down on my as I try not to let my feet fall to the ground as we bump along what is not a road, and sometimes not even a path.

As we roll into Singa and I can barely

Dancers!

They all turn their heads and watch as this 3 person motorbike speeds by. I wonder what they are thinking, and smile.

I arrive in Singa at the Chief’s Palace, which is a normal compound house, slightly larger then the rest. Chief Zack is exiting the house on a horse with elaborate materials and an umbrella.

There is drumming and a large following of young and old. I can not greet him, as it is tradition not to stop the Chief as he is leaving the compound.

I enter into the compound to meet the many wives of the family I have grown so close to, meeting them and many of their children over the last ten months. I am welcomed with
open arms and excitement of me finally visiting them and Singa. I am to sleep in Hardi’s mothers room.

Wrapped to meet a chief

We bathe and get ready to go out, but they (the mothers) decide that I should dress up!! That’s right, I had already planned a nice dress, but Hardi’s mother digs through her suitcases

These dancers scared the kids!

It is basically 3 pieces of material. They wrap the first around my waist, the next they fold over my shoulder and the last they tie around my head. I feel a bit nervous that it will fall off as I walk, but accept this challenge of being part of this family.

The attitude towards the Westerners is friendly, but when I really get down to the real feelings, people seems confused why they have come and why should they trust them. Some are not interested and others are very curious.

I am guarded and ready to defend and challenge. I walk through the main part of town and eyes are looking at me. I greet back in Dagbani, and they realize I am definitely not part of the group of Salamingas.

The festivities are about to begin, and I greet Chief Zack and his elders in front of the crowd that has gathered. I do so by kneeling down very low.

He laughs, as this would never happen in our house. I flash a smile recognizing that we have a secret that no one else knows.

I sit with the elders, with my family.

I feel part of something bigger, and realize that this is part of my community, my extended family. This is what people meant about being part of something bigger.

It is not just an individual achievement that is respected here but the success of your whole family, community and tribe, everyone
working towards the same goal. It finally sinks in, as I see it unfold around me everyday.

The event begins. Chief Zack says a few nice words and the District Chief Executive greets the Westerners and encourages that they work together for the betterment of Singa. I respect that he has come to this remote community on a weekend.

Promises, Promises

The leaders of this group give an elaborate, Western-style speech…while being filmed and surrounded by large fluffy microphones.

I will not cut the speech into pieces here, but I held my tongue at the time and got others’ opinion about it. In summary, it was alot of talk about alot of things that sound nice.

Drummers from Burkina Faso

But in the end, who asked for these things? It was not the community.

For the most part, what was spoken about was not achieveable in most of these people’s lifetimes – if at all. I am frustrated and ready to challenge all of these promises.

I take a deep breath and realize that this is part of being a development worker, to challenge other’s ideas, as well as mine. I will get feedback from others, and present that to them, but also learn more about their mission…. or I will at least try.

When in doubt, dance!

Then the dancing begins and I have a good time with Amshawu, Achiri and Baba Alhassan.

I have never been witness to such a great event of dancing and music from so many different areas and countries. People were there from all over Ghana, Burkina Faso and Niger. I was definitely impressed.

Afterwards, I met up with some of the dancers from Niger, and they invited me back to their place for tea. I had to turn it down, as I was supposed to be back at the family house for
dinner.

I was disappointed but excited to spend some time with the family here.

Windnum dressed in his Friday outfit

I went with Amshawu to pump water from the borehole (which the NGO installed – one point NGO). As I sat with the women waiting for our turn, we spoke Dagbani. Although I stuck out, it wasn’t like the other white visitors.

The women made fun of them and I and laughed and felt like I was part of the group. I realized the importance of integrating with the community: touching their culture and understanding their ideas and feelings.

It’s given me a totally different and amazing perspective.

Community change, personal growth

I spent the rest of the weekend enjoying time with the family, visiting people in the community with Amshawu, and trying to push the Westerners’ idea about development.

What are they doing here? Is it the RIGHT thing? How do they know?

On the last night I thought about EWBs approach – humble enough to question our own approach, but strong enough to challenge others.

So much of what EWB has encouraged and coached me on stands out – integrating with your community, understanding rural poverty, asking good questions, and listening.

I feel that there is no better place for me. There is still work to be done.

I fall asleep under the stars, in the middle of the compound surrounded by the rest of the community.