In which I tell Ben's story...

It’s a bit vague…trying to get detailed information from anybody is difficult.  Nevertheless the story is worth telling…

Ben is approximately 13/14 years old; I don’t think anyone knows his age exactly (we came across a case recently where the birth certificate failed to tally with any other official documents e.g. health insurance card…and I don’t think everyone has a birth certificate).

Ben suffers from sickle-cell anaemia and stunted growth.  Until 2012 he also had a very large, disfiguring, abdominal hernia.

From an early age Ben’s development was slow.  His father was convinced that the child was a curse and Ben lived under the constant threat of “not living” (to write that his father wanted to kill him feels extremely brutal though it is nonetheless true).  Ben’s mother feared for his life to the extent that she took the precaution of taking him to live with his grandparents here in Zebilla – a journey of about 10 hours by coach from Kumasi, where they lived in her husband’s family home.

Thereafter, Ben lived, hidden away, with his grandparents.  He did not attend school; he did not really leave this family compound.  Disability and curses are things to be hidden away.

In 2012, the District Special Educational Needs Officer (SPED) from the Ghana Education Service (GES), together with the VSO officer, visited Ben’s village where they happened upon Ben’s grandparents and their secret.  They were extremely shocked when they saw Ben; both his physical and his mental condition were a cause for great concern.  Immediate action was required.  Of course, “immediate” in Ghana can take considerable time!

Arrangements were made and Ben was taken to the hospital in Bolgatanga for assessment and eventually a hernia operation.  This was not an easy task given that neither parents nor grandparents had money to finance this.  There is a National Health Insurance Scheme which covers basics (you have to opt into it and pay a minimal fee which most families now do) but transport costs became a barrier.  In addition, the operation required a medical mesh (see note below) to strengthen the abdominal wall which was not included in the health insurance and cost 150 Ghana cedi.  Determined not to fall at this hurdle, the team at the Education Office pleaded the case at the District Assembly and also arranged a whip round in the Office.  With this support, the operation was completed successfully.

Ben was now in a much better physical condition.  I’m not sure how the stunted growth or sickle cell anaemia were treated but since they are much less visible Ben’s appearance became within the “normal” range.  It was suggested that he might start attending school.  This was an enormous mental challenge for a boy who had spent his life almost as a recluse.  By way of encouragement a bicycle was bought (again through generous donations) and gradually the challenge was faced and overcome.  Ben now attends his local Primary School and is currently in Year 5.

I have never met Ben.  However, his story is widely told and is regarded as a great success story here in Zebilla.  And it is a great success.  My concern is that it seems to be a fairly isolated success.  When will all these children with disabilities be acknowledged and loved?

Medical Mesh

Since our arrival in Ghana we have read about a surgeon who has been very successfully using mosquito nets as the mesh for strengthening the walls around hernias.  This is very cheap and readily available but possibly not yet widely known.  Here in Ghana the “mesh” is the property of the doctor and therefore you buy it from him before the operation. He, of course, will have to buy and keep his own stock of it in readiness.  I’m sure a supply of mosquito nets would be much more easily available.  However, the cynic in me (based on my observations of Ghana), suspects that the doctor might be making a profit from selling the mesh and I wonder whether he would be willing to forfeit this source of additional income?  Let’s hope so!

 

In which I share a new Christmas experience...

Travelling

Well…we very nearly didn’t travel at all given that our 2pm bus didn’t arrive until 3.45pm!  You would think I’d be used to “Ghana time” by now but still I get caught out!  Once on board though, the overnight journey to Accra was easy…which was not adequate preparation for the bombardment of the senses on arrival in the centre of the capital city where all systems are in overload and it’s still before 8am!:

The noise: traffic – worn out engines, honking horns; hawkers vying for attention; workmen making their wares at the street sides; stallholders plying their goods; mobile phones singing to be answered; people shouting and generally communicating at full volume.

The smells: those worn out engines again! fumes and petrol; the rancid open drainage system cooking in the sun; street food stalls.

The sights: the traffic jams with hawkers weaving precariously in and out of the queues; people, rainbow-dressed, jostling everywhere; market stalls, crammed with goods, in every available space; half built houses and offices with heaps of sand and bricks piled ready for you to trip into; broken pathways and litter.

You really need your wits about you at all times to avoid being attacked by the many hazards: traffic, people, building sites, open drains…

Fortunately we were sufficiently awake to survive traversing Accra to reach the required bus station for tro-tros to Kokrobite, 30 miles further west.  The next challenge was working out which of the dozens of tros was going the right way.  There are no signs, bus stops, timetables, labels or indeed any form of helpful communication.  Passers by offer conflicting advice.  So, eventually, you opt for the most likely option (possibly the tro which looks least likely to break down) and hop aboard.  Suffice it to say that we did reach our destination relatively unscathed!

The return journey was even more stressful given that we travelled via a different route and nothing was booked, indeed,  we didn’t know if the buses/connections would be running.  Once again there are no websites to browse and telephone information is non-existent/incomprehensible.  I’m not convinced we got the best deal but it’s impossible to tell.  And we did reach Zebilla with only a few more chewed off finger nails!

Travelling in Ghana is difficult (there’s an understatement for you!) for someone who likes to plan and organize; not an activity to be undertaken lightly!

The Destinations

Kokrobite is a resort of two halves.  Firstly, along the shoreline, there are hotels and large villas.  Of the three hotels we visited, the two more successful ones are both managed by Europeans.  Customers flock there for the food, drink, music and entertainment as well as the accommodation.  All tastes are catered for but the majority of the clientele is white (many volunteers!) or more affluent Africans.  The third hotel (where we stayed) was more modest, more run down and much less vibrant (i.e. dead quiet).

                           

                          Our room at the Dream Hotel, Kokrobite

                   
                     Kokrobite Garden Hotel: a pleasant garden retreat

The second half of the resort is the town itself, in stark contrast to the relative comforts of the hotels.  Here the rickety dwellings jostle for space along the open drains and unmade roads.  Despite the squalor, every morning the matriarchs are out in the street organizing the sweeping and tidying of their bits of space, clearing away yesterday’s rubbish and ready for a new day.  By daylight the town is calm and quiet though not deserted.  Come the evening the same streets are alive with street trading, music and relaxing in the local bars.  This is where we sampled our first tilapia fish, fresh from the net, eaten with yam chips!

    Kokrobite town (or village?)

So, despite the general air of poverty the community spirit thrives and it was a pleasure to flit between these two halves!

Cape Coast

Here in Zebilla there is a mixture of housing ranging from the traditional, thatched round buildings spread around a central, shaded courtyard, to a variety of rectangular huts and houses ranging in structure and quality.  Often the dwellings are surrounded by farmland thus generating a feeling of openness and space.  Not so Cape Coast!

 Views of Cape Coast

 

Cape Coast was at one time the capital of the British Gold Coast Colony and retains many old, though now extremely run down, colonial buildings.  Squashed between these and throughout the city are a selection of slum-type dwellings put together using any materials found to hand and stalls with barely walking room between. The atmosphere is busy and bustling with strong competition to get your custom but very little idea about customer service; in one shop the cashier was most disgruntled when we disturbed her TV viewing with our trade!

The city was a little too overbearing for my taste, much preferring watching the fishermen hauling in their huge nets on a wide open beach, keeping time by chanting traditional African rhythms.

 

                                                             

                                                                           Sharing out the catch at the end of a hard day's fishing.

Dominating this shoreline stands the Castle, serving as a reminder of the barbarity inflicted by the trade in slaves.  We visited the dank, dark dungeons where up to 1500 slaves might be detained in readiness for shipment (in equally barbaric conditions) to the Caribbean, Brazil and USA/Canada.

From Cape Coast we also visited Kakum National Park with its star attraction of a long canopy walkway.  It calls itself a rain forest though in fact it has a dry season (which a true rain forest would not have).  I was a bit disappointed not to be surrounded by trees full of monkeys but then, any self respecting animal would hide deep inside the forest away from all those interfering, noisy tourists!  It was nevertheless enjoyable as was the nature walk we took afterwards.  It’s a pity there weren’t a few tracks you could walk unaccompanied – a future project perhaps!

 

And finally

The trip was interesting if not wholly enjoyable.  We travelled the length of Ghana, passing from the arid dryness of the north, through the savannah and scrub of the central regions to the green, lush, semi-tropical rain forests of the south.  We witnessed the change in living conditions from the round thatches to the cramped semi-slums.  We have seen the traditional fishing methods of the coastal regions.  We have gained a great wealth of impressions and experiences. 

But, wherever I wander…there’s no place like home!!