Week Eleven

Saturday 12th September
Bridie and I were called in extra early for the Saturday meeting with Helen so were present at the office for 8.00am sharp, fully equipped with concerns and questions about what’s happening next with Tiyah.

Unfortunately Helen doesn’t have all of the answers just yet. There certainly won’t be someone in place for next week, which means field work is again off of the agenda – unless Helen herself is able to spare some time. Instead we’ll be confined to the office and internet again.

Helen’s asked us to start designing some literature for Tiyah and to draft a two year ‘strategic plan’. I get the distinct impression that we’re being fobbed off though – in my opinion there isn’t a clear vision or indeed an urgent need for a business plan at this stage in Tiyah’s development. It feels more like something Helen’s plucked out of the air to keep us occupied, or perhaps more pertinently stop us from feeling that our time with the project has run its natural course…

The most pressing issue is to find at least one long term local with Paul gone and Ahmed’s commitment on the wane – we’ve hardly seen him in the last month. It’s not a criticism of him in particular, Ahmed’s put in a lot of time and energy to Tiyah over the last couple of years, his priorities are just changing naturally as he gets older. What we do need though is for him to recognise that fact and officially call it a day. When he turned up (late) to the meeting he looked a bit intimidated by what Helen’s response would be if he came out and said what we’re all thinking…

In the afternoon we went into Kumasi to show Julia around a little and I’d arranged to meet Oja – a friend of my mate Liam’s from him time in Ghana a few years ago. It was great to meet him and share a few experiences of Liam, and Oja seems like a top man with some interesting projects based now in the Volta region. I also know Liam will be chuffed that we managed to touch base and I’ve got a few photos of us together.


Sunday 13th September
Writing this at nearly ten in the evening listening to pouring rain – it started at about 7.30 whilst Helen, Bridie and I were in the office and hasn’t relented since.

In the end Bridie and I decided to brave it back – drenched isn’t the word. We struggled back slipping and sliding, a power cut meaning our only light came from Bri’s small torch and the frequent lightning bursts guiding us home.

We’d been in the office to interview two candidates for a replacement local volunteer for Paul; a girl we hadn’t met before (and as it turned out never will as she didn’t show up); and Small Ahmed ‘Fresh’ from our host family. Ahmed surprised me by interviewing really well, making me feel a bit guilty about steering Helen away from him previously, the concern being that he might not be mature enough. His experience of preaching and teaching with his church will help Ahmed in the work and I’m pleased that we’ll be able to give him a chance.

Although the work is voluntary, Helen does manage to pay a small allowance to the local workers, and it will be positive for him to do something constructive with his days.

Earlier I made a trip out to past Mampongteng to Helman Junction to visit Oja and his family. Two tro-tros out form Kumasi, but not an arduous journey. It was good to meet Oja again and to bring some small gifts to his family as a kind of surrogate Liam. I’ll also be able to show him pics of how the family has grown seven years on.


Monday 14th September
Today was just about as emotionally challenging as it comes. Bridie and I went with Helen to visit a couple that have recently come to light in the nieghbouring village of Adankwame.

The married couple are both blind – a bleak enough prospect in Ghana (and anywhere else to be fair) but the wife is also HIV positive. She was diagnosed with the virus about three years ago when she was still in the process of breastfeeding their new baby – now, thankfully, a healthy three year old.

From talking to them we uncovered the cruel full extent of her predicament – inexcusably for any country, she contracted HIV in the hospital as she was operated on following complications in the birth of their child – and with no means of comeback or appeal was dealt a life sentence there and then.

Cramped into their small, dark one room house hearing the story unfold made me feel very helpless. They’ve got no source of income, any little they have is donated by charitable organisations, or from the kindness of other people in their community. Although the husband in particular has tried to make some money through crafts, but there have been obstacles every step of the way.

At the moment, there’s not even a great deal that Tiyah can do, we’re not currently getting any external funding so any aid available is minimal. All we really have to offer on an ongoing basis is compassion and understanding – nice, but it doesn’t fill an empty belly pr pay for medication. On this occasion we were able to leave them with a small donation from our own pockets but that’s not a solution. It’s not feasible to keep giving handouts, and they’re just one couple amongst countless others across the country – the situation needs to be addressed on a much larger scale. Until then the small organisations will keep doing what they can.

It was heartwarming though to see that a concerned friend has rented the room out for them, and when they walked us back to the road we met some community members that have also made various contributions – but these are people without much themselves in the first place.

Perhaps the saddest part was watching their bright eyed three year old girl – clearly with loads of energy, and already developing an independence beyond her years, and wondering just what kind of life she’s going to lead?


Tuesday 15th September
Continued my quest to retrace some of Liam’s steps by visiting his old project in Okaatrom, about one hour’s drive from central Kumasi. Helen had just placed two volunteers from Holland at the centre and was planning to pay them a visit so I was able to hitch a ride out in the SYTO car with her (via a detour to dropping her daughter off at boarding school of course).

We were greeted in formal fashion as always by Osei – the project manager, and Liam’s friend – and as is the custom were asked to state our ‘mission’ That aside it was an extremely warm welcome and in spite of the many volunteers in and out of the doors since Liam’s time in 2002 he clearly made a big impression and was still remembered fondly seven years down the line. Osei took me round the project which runs vocational training (woodwork, basket weaving, catering…) for school students that have failed academically, and pointed out all of the new buildings and facilities that have been built since 2002 for photographic purposes.

The trip was only slightly soured by the constant pleading for money – from me, and for me to pass on to Liam – to help them build the next works, accommodation block or whatever. But you come to expect that pretty quickly. Everyone was pleased to see me though and treated us to lunch and a beer.

This evening a doctor called round for a meeting as a follow up to our visit to the blind couple yesterday. He’s familiar with their case and with the lady putting us on to him was able to talk about her case freely. Unfortunately it was the all too familiar thing of talking for the sake of it. Helen already knows the doctor so all we really needed was to confirm that he still has our contact details, and is happy to refer HIV sufferers in the area to us if he thinks we can help them.

Didn’t really need to take an hour and a half, but Helen can talk the hind legs off a donkey, which is part of her charm, but I do cringe slightly when she announces grand plans or commitments for Tiyah that we just aren’t ready to deliver on yet. It’s all good-willed of course, but we need to concentrate on what we can achieve without raising expectations elsewhere too highly.

Too much sizzle and not enough sausage.


Wednesday 16th September
After more than a week away, Big Paul cam back early this morning, and it was good to see the old man home. He always bring a bit of life to the evenings. Having not said that he was leaving, we learnt that he had indeed been away working with the computer school in the Western Region. Must admit I thought it was another one of his big plans that would come to nothing.

Today some admin work in the office, and time spent thinking through this two-year plan that Helen has asked me to draw up. We’re also starting to work with Small Ahmed (Fresh) tomorrow – teaching him the ropes and the presentations that we’ll be delivering again from next week.

Otherwise, a quick trip into Kumasi – one aim being to pick up Bridie’s water-damaged iPod which after much harranging and more than one month in possession of the repaired agreed to hand back. We knew that it hadn’t been fixed, but what we didn’t expect was for it to come back scratched, dented and tattered, looking about five years older than when it went in…

Much excitement this evening when a package of goodies from home arrived after an impatient four weeks of waiting. Indulging in marmite M&Ms and Haribos for the next few days.


Friday 18th September
There’s again been no sign of Big Ahmed this week despite his renewed promise of commitment to Helen on Saturday, so we’re left cracking on with bringing Small Ahmed up to speed. Today and yesterday we ran through our HIV presentations and took him through what to expect in the field next week. With a new volunteer from the UK also arriving today it feels like a fresh start. Albeit only with a couple of weeks left for me.

I’ve also had the opportunity to put some more thought into the strategic plan – and the more I think about it, the better the opportunity to help clarify Tiyah’s focus, which is a bit fuzzy at the moment – whether Helen takes the comments on board is a different matter altogether though. But what really needs to happen is to decide the one or two things we can do well instead of trying to do it all and spreading the efforts too thinly.

Back at the compound, a bit of shifting around to accommodate the new arrival, another girl of course, Hannah from England. Bridie’s moved in to share my room for the week until she leaves leaving the other two girls to share the bigger bedroom.

Hannah’s arrival prompted a sociable evening with various members of the extended ‘family’ turning up to say hello, play cards and share a beer.

Week 10

Sunday 6th September
A generally quiet couple of days spent mostly in and around the compound, save for popping into Bantama for shopping and internet on Saturday, and a few hours spent working in the office on Sunday morning – something of a habit that I seem to be getting into. In actual fact it’s often nice to break up what is usually a pretty uneventful day.

British kind of weather today with baking sunshine turning into torrential rain in the space of a few minutes, the storm pelting down ferociously for a good half an hour. Now I finally understand what they mean by the ‘rainy’ season.

There was cause for celebration tonight when Ghana became the first African nation to qualify for next year’s World Cup (hosts South Africa apart) to the delight of everyone man, woman and child in the area.

With Laura having left to go home on Thursday it’s certainly a lot quieter at the compound – and with most of the group I came over with flying back at various stages over the weekend my thoughts have been naturally turning to home – although there’s still a full month left here, there’s a certain feeling that things are starting to wrap up – a feeling that I’m doing my best to resist.

Without a great deal of work last week that’s probably contributing to the feeling, so I’m looking forward to getting stuck in again from tomorrow.


Monday 7th September
All of a sudden things are very much up in the air with Tiyah – although for a happy reason at least. After years of trying, and applying again to several universities again this year, Small Paul has finally got a place at university. The only thing is he has to leave tomorrow or will miss the opportunity to enrole.

It’s fantastic news for Paul who has found someone able to sponsor him to cover the fees, many intelligent people just don’t get the chance to get to uni with huge competition for spaces. I also feel some personal satisfaction having lent Paul the money for the original application I do feel like I have contributed to him getting there. I’ve seen half of the cash back, and don’t care about the rest of it – everything else aside I know that I’ve made a difference in at least one person’s life.

As to what happens next with Tiyah is anyone’s guess – Paul’s been the one constant presence and a strong driving force, and the source of the majority of our most valuable contacts, while we’ve been seeing less and less of Big Ahmed due to his work commitments.

All of which leaves us at rather a stand still. Without guides or translators there’s very little that we can do in the field – although there’s plenty of office based work and admin to keep Bridie and I busy this week we desperately need a long-term solution quickly. Without Paul, and with the constant flow of volunteers in and out we need a committed local presence for a foreseeable period. Asking a lot for what is an unpaid position though…

I only have about four weeks left, but there’s a new volunteer arriving on the 18th – I hope she has something to do!


Tuesday 8th September
One day after securing his place at Uni, Small Paul has upped sticks and left for the Eastern region leaving us in a state of limbo at Tiyah. He came round with Helen this morning to say goodbye and drop off a bed for another volunteer who’s arriving on Friday, so along with the fond farewells and best wishes we quizzed Helen about what happens next.

The short answer is that she doesn’t know, which wasn’t too surprising given the sudden nature of Paul’s departure. In the short term we’re going to have to keep busy with admin, the website and financial grant applications – giving her the time to recruit a suitable replacement.

Elsewhere, no sign of Big Paul since Sunday evening, it’s very unlike him to clear off even for a few hours without letting us know.

I braved Kejeitia market today on my own – having decided to cook dinner on Thursday night. With limited stove options a one-pot beef bourginion seemed a good option which meant trying to source and haggle for spuds, bay leaves and shallots – all of which I managed to track down, whether I paid the going rate is another matter entirely.


Wednesday 9th September
Bridie and I cracked on with a funding application this morning and I spent a largely frustrating couple of hours attempting to upload new copy to the Tiyah website in the afternoon, but that aside we’re no closer to working out what happens next at the project.

Aside from that a quiet day, catching a few late afternoon rays, preparing the marinade for tomorrow’s dinner, watching England qualify for the World Cup by thrashing Croatia at Wembley, and phoning home to deliver birthday wishes to mum.


Thursday 10th September
The SYTO office in Kumasi in the morning to finish off the grant application with Helen on her PC. We more or less got there in the end, but it typically what was probably a half our conversation ended up taking two hours before Bridie and I could prize ourselves away – edging slowly out of the door as Helen just kept on talking at us.

Without much on the agenda it was time to show Bernice some Western cooking and give her the night off cooking for us for once (not to mention myself a break from the nightly tomato sauce), so knocked up my beef bourginion – the only ingredient that I was unable to track down being the mushrooms.

The timings weren’t ideal – a combination of being delayed in the office with Helen, and Bernice having to leave for Thursday night church by 5.15 meant that I wasn’t able to cook the stew for as long as I would have wanted, but it did taste great. And everyone else – Bernice included seemed pretty impressed.

Not to be outdone, Bridie made pudding – stewed apple with Bird’s custard. The whole thing washed down with a acceptable bottle of merlot it was just like being at home, except for the roasting heat and lizards running past the table that is.

No word from Helen about Tiyah’s next steps – if nothing concrete can be put in place I might investigate other projects here in Kumasi that I might be able to get involved with in my last few weeks. Maybe some kind of construction project where I can get my hands dirty for a bit – I’d just hate to spend too much time sitting around twiddling my thumbs.


Friday 11th September
Been feeling a bit political at the moment, it’s coming from reading Obama’s auto biographic Dreams of My Father, and ended up having quite a discussion with Lovelace over my washing this morning.

As seems to be the case with almost educated, ambitious people (usually men) that I meet in Ghana, Lovelace’s one big mission is to leave the country of his birth and pursue opportunities in the West (USA, UK, Canada…) to help build a better life for him and his future family. It’s a commendable notion in some ways, and totally understandable from an individual’s point of view – the problem is though if all the best educated people, those with ambition, vision and energy end up leaving Ghana the situation here will never improve with the people left behind.

It’s not that they don’t love their country, or aren’t proud Ghanaians, its just to them the only answer seems to be to move abroad. I’m not sure the grass is always greener though when educated men end up working in menial jobs earning minimum wage (if they’re lucky) in the West.

Vocational qualifications are viewed as a ticket out of Ghana, which is why we benefit from so many African doctors and nurses in our hospitals even though their knowledge and expertise is so desperately needed in their motherland.

On an even bigger scale, what is the incentive for the Ghanaian Government to improve the education system if all the best people are just being trained up to leave in a brain drain to foreign climes?

Away from my soapbox, we had a new arrival in the compound today – Julia from Colonge is here for three months volunteering in the local kindergarten. A young, non-drinking, non-smoking, bespectacled German so I’m not holding out too many hopes for a barrel full of laughs.

Week nine

Saturday 29th August
All of our work on HIV so far has been focused on education, awareness and prevention of the disease, so it was a bit of a shocker today to come face to face with a large group of HIV sufferers. As pre-arranged we set off early to see the support group which meets once a month at the District Assembly offices about 45 minutes drive away.

When we arrived we were told that the local volunteers; Small Paul, Ahmed and Bernice weren’t allowed to join the meeting – the group being worried that they might be recognized and talked about, which is a pretty sad indictment of the level of HIV stigmatisation. Apparently us white volunteers were considered ok on the premise of our innate ‘differentness’ and because we’re visitors in Ghana due to be returning to our home countries shortly.

The meeting was in full swing with 35 out of the 39 group members present. We were introduced to the group and invited to say a few words about ourselves and Tiyah before officially handing over the huge sack of rice that we had brought as a donation. We then listened to comments from the floor which was in effect a series of thanks for the food that we’d provided and appeals for further funding of food, schooling, housing, workshops etc.

The meeting finished with posing for photographs with the whole assembly, and a meet and greet where we were encouraged to shake hands with and say hello to each member individually, which made me feel curiously like a baby-kissing politician or Prince Philip, ‘…and how are you today?…’. But was seen as a very important exercise by the group organisers.

It was a very humbling, thought provoking session which not for the first time in Ghana made me feel incredibly lucky to be British. The group were in a mixed state of health, some of them obviously have the virus under control or were in the early stages and looked as fit, strong and healthy as anyone. Some of the others looked very sick indeed though, thin, drawn and slow moving – many of them with severe sounding coughs. It also highlighted HIV’s indiscriminate nature, young and old, men, women, and perhaps most distressingly a couple of young mothers. There was also a party of three blind HIV sufferers which kind of makes you wonder just how these people maintain such a firm belief in God.

As each of the people explained their individual hardships and appealed for money or food I felt progressively more guilty about being slightly churlish on buying the bag of rice for them to share. The vast majority of the group are unemployed and reliant on handouts and the meager funding the support group is able to provide to live on. So in no way could I begrudge them asking for handouts, even if it made me feel slightly helpless.

It was encouraging though to learn they’re not just looking for short term donations and charity - they’re working together as a collective developing a cassava production site which, when up and running, should enable them a bit of sustainability and independence. The old ‘give a man a fish’ line at work. Inevitably it’s not finished yet and they still need money to install electricity, but it’s a positive step and something that I would be much more inclined to throw money or efforts at if I’m able to.

Back at home, running water was back on for the first time in three days, so an urgent batch of washing before moving to a spot to watch Arsenal robbed by the devils of Manchester.


Sunday 30th August
A couple of hours in the office in the a.m., but most of the day was about the party for Laura’s leaving in the evening. Preparations were typically arduous, but the evening itself was a blast. The party kicked off at about 7.00 and we were fully prepared with a stock of beers and local spirits to keep the proceedings well oiled.

I guess in total around we’d invited about 20-25 people, so the 40 or thereabouts that turned up probably wasn’t a bad result given Ghanaians’ famous sociability, not to mention fondness for a free beer. Held in our courtyard and compound the music system that got going in the end was something to behold – a combination of the best (biggest) of Big Paul’s and Kwame’s sound systems hooked up to Paul’s computer made sure nobody in Achiase was in any doubt where the party was.

In addition to all of our friends and acquaintances from Achiase we also had as many of the Bunac volunteers that could make it, as well as Stacey’s new love interest, X-Man that we had made friends with back in Cape Coast. Everything went off smoothly, there was – just about – enough booze to keep the party going, and by and large the locals left at a decent hour. Mixing drinks between lager, whisky, local ‘gin’ and bitters I enjoyed getting merry.

The only other incident of real note occurred in the small hours when we were all sleeping, with me having to break down the door to our rooms, when locked, in the key went missing and one of the girls had the urgent need for the bathroom. In retrospect the keys going missing may or may not have been my fault.


Monday 31st August
A new experience today, tempting to catch a tro or taxi into Kumasi with no luck whatsoever we eventually resolved to walk to the taxi rank in the next town when we happened across a large open backed truck carrying eggs at the petrol station. Being that kind of chap, X-Man decided to hitch a lift for us on the back of the lorry, stopping only to make one egg delivery on the way into town.

Groups of Ghanaians perched precariously on the back, roof or side of passing trucks is an everyday sight, but a new one for us – in actual fact the open aired ride did wonders for my fuzzy head. The total randomness of the situation was just typical of the out of the ordinary occurring on a regular basis.

After lunch, and a bit of time spent investigating options to travel to the Volta region for tomorrow I set about trying to get back to Achiase which was easier said than done. For no apparent reason the whole of Kumasi had come to a complete standstill – with ludicrous queues for the tros and no sight of a vehicle I decided to treat myself to a taxi which in itself took 40 minutes to take the normally five minute distance to Bantama junction. My driver did though take an ill advised ‘shortcut’ through what I can only describe as a shanty town, an area of Kumasi that I had no idea existed featuring tightly packed homes, bars and shops overcrowding around uneven dirt tracks.

After getting home weary we had to attend a meeting in the office to say an official farewell to Laura. In typically drawn out Ghanaian fashion – faux official language and speeches, when a much more informal session was probably more how we’d do things. It was touching though how heartfelt the thanks and praise for Laura was (with a bit of a nod to us all as a team of volunteers).


Tuesday 1st September Next adventure – destination the East of Ghana close to the border with Togo, and the Volta region, named after the huge lake that dominates this part of the country. It’s just Duncan and I taking this trip – he was keen to visit the area before leaving for England at the weekend, so I took up the opportunity for a lads trip away to make a bit of a change.

The Volta is famous for its natural beauty, boasting both the highest mountain in Ghana and the highest waterfall in West Africa in addition to the lake itself. But before any of that could be enjoyed, the customary penance of travelling in Ghana had to be endured… Somewhat surprisingly the Volta is relatively untraveled by visitors to Ghana which means transport links, unreliable at best to other parts of the country are even more tentative.

With apparently no buses on the route our only option was a tro from Kumasi to Ho – something in the region of a six hour drive. I’d been reliably informed the day before that the tro would leave at around 8.00 in the morning and that we would need to be at the lorry station for 6.30 at the latest to ensue a ticket. So sure enough we both got up early and made our way to Kumasi by 6.00 where we found the tro in place, but no semblance of any other passengers until at least half past eight, the tro eventually leaving at 10.40.

It’s a recurring theme, to be quoted a wildly inaccurate journey or departure time by locals and I can’t quite work out whether its there natural willingness to please that makes them tell you what they think you want to hear, or they just in actual fact have no idea about how long things will take… either way I haven’t yet had the confidence to take their estimates with the mountain of salt they probably warrant and pitch up a couple of hours after the suggested time.

We finally got to Ho – the largest town in the region, but in fact a pretty small place - at five p.m. with nothing more in mind than a couple of beers, food and some kip after a long days traveling. Unfortunately we got clung on to by a local man named Michael immediately on arrival who was harder to shake off as swine flu and twice as irritating. Not in the mood to be making new buddies, his constant chatter, declarations of undying friendship and insistence on taking us to see this guesthouse, that pot or even to meet his family were entirely unwelcome.

As a side note, an excellent discovery of the day was that Duncan plays cribbage – so we unwound with a couple of games over an evening beer at the Jarso Guesthouse.


Wednesday 2nd September
A quality day’s sightseeing with an intense mountain climb and the spectacular Wli waterfalls. Setting off fairly early we made a relatively painless trip from Ho to the equally charmingly named Hohoe, and then on to Wli itself in a taxi.

The Wli waterfall is the highest in West Africa, so given the choice of hiking to the upper or lower falls we naturally opted for both and set about the surprisingly arduous ascent to the summit of the mountain which is home to the falls. The intensity of the climb came as a bit of a shock after the casualness of the departure – no warnings about suitability, no safety briefings – just the suggestion that we might want to buy some water. In the UK, or god forbid in America you’d have needed a full medical before even getting through the gate.

After a leisurely start, the walk rapidly developed into a real climb, scrambling over rocks and trees seemingly positioned as an additional obstacle course for flabby tourists, stopping occasionally to admire the views – or using that as a handy excuse to catch our breath. We got to the waterfall in less than the two hours it had been suggested and although it wasn’t a baking hot day the forest was incredibly humid, so by the time we reached our destination I had my very own waterfall of sweat running down my back, just as impressive as the real thing.

… Well perhaps not quite, after hearing the water for a long time we came up to the falls quite suddenly catching us slightly by surprise, and it was stunning. I’d guess about 200 feet high and embracing the natural beauty of the rocks, trees and fauna that surrounded it, offering a real magical storybook quality.


The descent was just as tricky, if not as punishing as the climb, but we were rewarded at the bottom by the lower waterfall which was just as picturesque as the former, if not quite as imposing. At this one though, we were able to take a refreshing dip in the pool at the bottom, although the spray from the water hitting the pool created an almost painful horizontal sandstorm-like bombardment.

To complete ‘otherworldliness’ of the view, high on the crevasses of the rocks flanking the waterfall were thousands of bats circling the sky and letting out their shrill call to the surrounding forest.


Friday 4th September
With increasing tolerance – or should that be resignation? I put myself in the hands of Ghanaian transport again, this time traveling back from Hohoe to Kumasi through the night.

Although in our heart of hearts we expected to be disappointed Dunc and I rose early to see if we could find a tro back to Kumasi earlier than the bus we knew left around eight p.m. – but with no luck we bought our tickets and tried to figure out how to spend the next 12 hours over breakfast of fried chicken and rice. Worse ways to start the day…

Anxious what with the unreliability of transport that any significant day trips would risk missing our bus back, we resolved on a quiet day in Hohoe which in the end included trips to the library and the internet, a slow lunch and several games of cards. In actual fact hanging around for a day with no real purpose was quite enjoyable.

Predictably the tro left two hours after the scheduled departure time and we rode through the night arriving back at the central market in Kumasi exactly nine hours after leaving at 6.45 in the morning. I’ve recognized a growing acceptance in myself over these epic journeys – if told two months ago that I’d endure a nine hour nocturnal bus ride with no leg room to speak of, a bumpy road rending any sleep fitful at the very best with relative good humour I’d never have believed it.

I’ve become a bit more philosophical about now – there really is nothing you can do to change it and all I’d gain by getting angry or stressed in an aneurism. In fact I’d promise never to complain about London transport again, but I know that like the drunk that vows never to touch the stuff again after a heavy night, it’d be a hollow promise and in all likelihood I’ll fall right back into complaining again.

Week Eight

Saturday 22^nd August

Three line whip for the Saturday morning meeting as we had a planned visit from the welfare officer in our neighbouring district – we needed to impress him with a view to extending our work into his communities. We also talked through a planned visit to a group of HIV sufferers next Saturday and tomorrow’s hypertension presentation in church.

Feel like Helen’s slightly taken liberties by confirming that we (the volunteers that is, rather than Tiyah) will fund some food for the HIV group without clearing it with us first – led to a little bit of friction, but we’re all prepared to let it ride this time.

In her remit as our SYTO rep as well as project leader we also talked to Helen about the ongoing situation with Paul and Theresa. Of course there’s more to it than me

ets the eye with much of the root of the problem based in complex gender politics, and apparently the stigma that Theresa feels – real or imaginary – for not having had children. Apparently this relates to her particular problem with women in particular moving in to the house – although that can’t be used as an excuse for her behaviour attacking the new resident, or indeed explain the other various bursts of aggression towards Kwame, Bernice, Judy, Paul and apparently Daniel and Katty (volunteers prior to us).

After a busy time recently it’s quite nice not to have trav

eled this weekend, and took the chance to meet up with the other Bunac volunteers in Kumasi. The plan had been for a spot of lunch and a visit to the Ashanti King’s palace, but with general laziness and people arriving at different times we didn’t make it further than the restaurant. Sick of always visiting Vic Baboos to eat we decided to try a new place and hit upon a bit of a winner, a third floor bar with terrace overlooking downtown Kumasi and decent food.

Sunday 23^rd August

A day for results. England have won the Ashes – it made me realise how long I’ve been away when I think I haven’t seen a single ball of the series – the gunners won 4-1 yesterday, and touch wood, I think we have peace in the house again.

The day began with a bit of Sunday morning preaching as we took our hypertension presentation to one of the many churches in Achiase – up in front of the congregation, m

icrophone in hand I began to feel like one of those American evangelists and it was all I could do not to dust off a couple of ‘Halleluiahs’.

All said the presentation went well – despite looking a bit bored during our speech, the congregation asked a lot of questions at the end – compared to HIV it affects more people’s lives immediately, and of course is much more acceptable to talk about openly.

Otherwise it was a bit of a lazy day spent around the compound. After I got a text from Dad with the cricket score I had to indulge in a couple of beers to toast the victory and of course got involved in some obligatory gloating to Aussie Bridie.

Big Paul came later to tell us that the dispute has been settled, after a meeting including Theresa’s father and the elders from their church apparently Theresa is reconciled that the tenants can stay and that she has no responsibility to clean up after them. Let’s see how long the truce holds for…

Monday 24^th August

A pretty quiet day, after a short Monday meeting we went into Kumasi to purchase a fan for the office, a much needed joint gift from all three of us volunteers to the project, after that we went into the SYTO office to see Helen about an application for a grant that we can help with, and to spend some time on the Tiyah website.

In the evening all of the electricity in our area went down when a lorry driver carelessly took out the line with his truck ensuring a very quiet night and an evening of eating and reading by torchlight.

Tuesday 25^th August

Fresh came back from town with a new (to them) 28” TV for the family living behind ours – nothing flash by standards at home, but it got me thinking about the relative wealth here.

Carrying the baggage of western stereotypes with me I arrived expecting deprivation to be much greater than it actually is. There is certainly poverty in Kumasi in general, and Achiase in particular – but it’s not the abject poverty that I was preparing myself for. Many homes have TVs, and the odd PC, and nearly every adult I meet has their own mobile phone. And some strong brands exist both Ghanaian and the usual collection of global behemoths like Coca Cola.

That said the Ashanti region is the wealthiest in Ghana with its natural resources of gold, cocoa and agriculture – and just traveling around our communities I’d say Achiase is relatively more ‘well to do’ than the surrounding villages… I know also that our compound with its electric lighting, running shower and water closet toilet is a positive luxury to what some of the other volunteers are experiencing in Kumasi. Northern Ghana was also noticeably poorer – in the living conditions and the number and physical condition of street beggars.

Today was our first time taking the hypertension presentation to the streets as we visited Barekese, and it was well received – lots of questions and discussion as we went back to a couple of friendly spots where we have spoken to people on previous occasions. The smooth running of the day was only interrupted by a fight breaking out between two boys right outside of one of the hairdressers we were teaching in.

Back at home it seems as if Big Paul’s plans to travel and work in the Western Region have taken a bit of a back seat now that the situation with Theresa has calmed down, to no great surprise.

Wednesday 26^th August

Small Paul has been offered a place at University which is great news for him after years of trying – there are only six Unis in the whole of Ghana. All he needs to do now is to work out how he will pay for it.

This development meant Paul had to cry off from work this morning to try and work out funding meaning just Ahmed with us – in theory at least – after waiting for more than one hour for him I instead headed into Kumasi to use the SYTO PC and work up the copy for the website. Helen’s away for a few days so her computer was free – once I’d woken her assistant Diana up from sleeping at Helen’s desk!

In the end it was quite a productive day, although it felt very different being back in an air conditioned office working on a document – a bit too much like the old world!

In the evening I hit the local spot (pub) in the hope of watching Arsenal v. Celtic, but a big local match had taken precedence, a top four play off game between the biggest two teams in the country so much shouting and jumping around the room at every close shave. Making for an entertaining night.

Peace is still holding in the house, although we disappointed Agnes by not joining her at a big church event this afternoon – she was genuinely bewildered by us claiming we didn’t have any religion, it just looked like an alien concept to her, I just hope she hasn’t taken it upon herself to save our souls.

Friday 28^th August

Office based work again for the last couple of days – firstly we got the ceiling fan that we’d bought earlier in the week installed on Thursday morning which has made being in the office an infinitely more pleasurable experience. Money definitely well spent. The three of us signed a ‘propeller’ each, mine simply reading ‘stay cool!’.

Followed up with more work on the website and then lunch in town with Stacey and Becky when I could grab them between frequent visits to the bathroom.

Friday morning the plan was to deliver our HIV presentation to the youth group from the local school here in Achiase – the idea being involving the kids as peer educators and building a bit of sustainability to the structure at Tiyah. Great in principle, but unfortunately none of the group turned up despite the promises made only the previous afternoon. Not to waste the time I worked further on the online copy and on an application form for a subsidy grant.

Then made the mistake of going party shopping with Bernice and Laura in town – we’re having a bash on Sunday night as a goodbye to Laura… I’ve never understood why girls have to make parties so complicated, a stack of lagers and the rest will look after itself. Instead we ended up traipsing around three different supermarkets chasing this, that and whatever, my mood was only lightened somewhat by an excellent jollof rice and Star beer at Queen’s Gate restaurant.

Week seven

Saturday 15th August
Finally a properly chilled out day. With not a great deal to see in Larabanga we made a sharp exit for Mole National Park – the largest destination of its type in Ghana, and the best possibility of wildlife viewing. It’s only around 5kms from Larabanga to the Mole Motel so we took the trip on the back of motorcycles arranged by the Salia Brothers.

Mole Motel is the most traditionally ‘holiday’ place I’ve been to yet, very roomy – space really isn’t an issue here, the accommodation huts look slightly institutional but are very comfortable. The main hotel is built around a pool and bar area which sits at the top of a hill with the veranda offering a sensational view of the savannah – a watering hole in the foreground, and the park stretching out as far as the eye can see and beyond.

With the weather veering between showers and bright sunshine the day was spent relaxing, dipping in the pool, listening to music and reading, while as an added bonus the TV in the bar allowed me to keep up to date with the first day of the new Premier League season, including watching Arsenal annihilate Everton. Even just staying in the confines of the motel we got to see some pretty exciting wildlife including warthogs grazing outside our room, and a cheeky monkey that pranced poolside to steal food from unsuspecting guest’s plates.

The evening was spent getting slowly toasted although the lack of action from the fellow guests was disappointing. It’s by far the most number of white people I’ve seen in a single group since leaving England, and I was expecting a bit more of a party atmosphere, when in fact the vast majority had shot off to bed well before 10.00. Leaving me at the bar with only a group of typically obnoxious Americans for company… needless to say I preferred my own. Tomorrow promises to be exciting with a safari walk including the strong possibility of seeing elephants up close and personal!


Sunday 16th August
Day two at Mole National Park, and my first proper ‘safari’ experience. After a few lagers the night before, I decided to forgo the seven a.m. walk in favour of the more civilized 15.30 departure. Eight of us spent two hours in the scorching African heat picking our way through the savannah and relishing the opportunity to view the native wildlife up close and personal in its natural environment.

We saw various monkeys, baboons, antelope and all manner of birds, but of course it was all about the elephants in reality. And we were in luck, although apparently its less likely to see elephants on the afternoon walk, within twenty minutes our guide Christopher had led us to two fully grown African Elephants – and they were every bit as impressive I had hoped.

Obviously they were huge, but they still managed to be strangely elegant for something so big, and were utterly disinterested in our presence. We were able to get to within about 20 meters of the larger of the two at one point, although he continued to go about his important business of eating in a calm, unrushed manner, slowly transferring large branches to his mouth via his huge trunk. Our ranger identified this elephant as one of the eldest in the area at 60-70 years old, and the way he moved confidently and methodically with a calmness in the absolute knowledge that he’s the boss put me in mind of Marlon Brando as the Godfather.


The other pleasant surprise from our walk in the forest was the smell – the floor was carpeted by a fantastic amount of wild mint that released a wonderful mojhito aroma as we trampled through the bush. Returning from the safari walk I just had time for a cold shower and an even colder beer before enjoying the spectacular sunset over dinner.

Earlier in the day we had been joined by Beth and the three Dutch girls – now off on their travels prior to heading home – and various other stragglers that they’d befriended on the way, and all of them to man, well, women. Individually I like them all, but in a large group for dinner and drinks it was all a bit too girly, and I was seriously craving some decent male company.

Male volunteers here are very few and far between, but there only so many times you can hear about sun tans, salad or hair before reaching for the nearest blunt instrument to end all of the pain. In the end I had to put in an emergency call to WJM to just chat about something normal for a change. There’s a word in Ghana to describe a boy who always plays with girls, and I’m definitely feeling like a Maa-ta at the moment.


Monday 17th August
Another early start for the 4.00 a.m. Mass Metro bus back to Tamale (and then on to Kumasi) – there’s nothing quite like taking your life into your hands before sunrise! Thankfully the bus route starts at the Mole Motel so we were at least able to guarantee a seat this time, and I was able to position myself strategically by the rear door for extra leg room.

If anything this time the journey descended into a greater degree of bedlam than on the way to Mole. After a painstaking loading we eventually pulled into Larabanga at about 4.45, where as we learnt on Friday the population is about 4,000, I reckon we were met by a good ¾ of them all absolutely determined to board the bus. A good many actually succeeded creating a scrum around the doorwell in front of me as tight as anything at Piccadilly Circus or Waterloo underground.

After a while the bus driver came down to our end and kicked off anyone that didn’t have a ticket, only for them all to try and sneak back on again as soon as his back was turned like a group of naughty schoolchildren. As funny as it looked, you can understand their efforts – as far as I can ascertain this is the only bus connecting Larabanga and the next town Damongo with Tamale and the other larger towns in between. Many of the people were clearly traders so missing the coach probably means missing a day’s sales. The same goes for any appointments or meetings in Tamale. Lunacy.

Once clear of Larabanga the journey speeded up considerably, but was still a bone rattler… the general sense of fun not being helped by either the young girl who was sick on the floor in front of my going over one of the larger bumps, or indeed the American girl’s panic attack halfway through.

… The first part of this entry was drafted at the start of our tro ride back to Kumasi from Tamale – an estimated six hour journey that in actual fact took 9½ hours as our driver at first dawdled along like a Sunday afternoon cruise, and we then had to wait on three separate occasions for the him to repair damage to one of the rear wheels. Something which may, or may not, have been linked to the various bits of goat entangled in the wheel arch following an earlier collision.

So having left Mole at 4.00am and got back to our house in Kumasi just after 9.00pm – it’s taken a lot, but I’m actually missing British transport!


Tuesday 18th August
Slightly different activity at work today as we all piled into the SYTO car to the nearby village of Esaase for a ‘workshop’ on youth HIV education and prevention. Sitting in a school clearing in patio garden chairs under a series of canapés, the programme actually offered very little to us volunteers with 95% of it conducted in Twi.

A collection of longish speeches were interspersed with dance performances and poems by youth groups, however they did provoke the best response to any HIV related activity that I’ve witnessed to date – alongside the programme the Ghana Health Service were offering free HIV tests, and with the blessing of the village chief they were absolutely inundated with people of all ages lining up for their test. Hugely encouraging considering the fear and level of stigma usually associated with an examination.

They were also selling condoms at a subsidized rate of one Cedi for a box of 100, so we invested in 500 rubbers between us to distribute amongst the communities on our visits… either that or keep Paris Hilton stocked up for a fortnight – the choice is ours.

In all it was a very long three hours and I can’t help thinking it was an opportunity lost for Tiyah – had we been told about the event in advance we could have got involved talking about our project, offering advice, or anything really.


Wednesday 19th August
We’re actually starting to get our teeth into something other than HIV at work, which makes an interesting change. We’ve got a series of presentations coming up with churches, including one this Sunday. And with churches being what they are some of our HIV messages may not go down too well with the zealots… using a condom? Sacrilege.

So we’re going to be talking about hypertension – which to be honest I hadn’t realised was an issue in Ghana. From what I’ve seen of the diet (aside from copious amounts of oil) and lifestyle I’d say they’re pretty well placed compared to the west, and the laid back lifestyle and laissez fair attitude to life doesn’t seem conducive to people working themselves into acute levels of stress.

Nonetheless as many as one in three Ghanaians in urban areas suffer from high blood pressure, and very few people know anything about the issue.

…tick tock, tick tock… the timebomb that it Mother Theresa exploded again this evening in a big way. Paul brought round a very nice, quiet seeming young professional couple, who will be moving into the compound, and much like that room Theresa was going spare. I’m not sure I’ve witnessed ranting at this exalted level before – a good 15-20 minutes of non-stop chuntering in Twi with the odd word of English thrown in to keep it interesting. At first the ire was aimed at Big Paul, but then the poor young couple took the full force of her outburst – how they felt coming to see their new home and being met by such a tirade of abuse and threats is beyond me – but it was hardly a big welcome mat.

I couldn’t make out much, but picked up ‘trouble, trouble, trouble’, and ‘you no stay in this place’, but what was crystal clear the longer was stay here is that Theresa is one seriously unstable woman. We await moving day tomorrow with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.


Thursday 20th August
So yesterday’s drama was just the undercard to today’s main event… the day didn’t start all that promisingly when instead of going to the market as usual, Theresa stayed at home and proceeded to move every item that she could lay her hands on into the couple’s empty room. Tens of buckets, an old stove, watering cans and even a large kitchen cupboard that Kwame was railroaded into helping her shift were all dumped in the room as an unusual welcoming present.

I’m learning that when she’s in this mood much like an unexploded hand grenade the safest option is to put as much distance as possible between yourself and Theresa, so made myself scare for a couple of hours down at the office. On my return the young lady, Agnes, was there, and setting about cleaning out the room and a lock was being fitted to the door – but with no sign of Theresa t was the calm before the storm…

I was reading in the courtyard when Theresa strode in with her business face on, and the air of intent and impending violence of Viv Richards walking out to bat, or Mike Tyson into the ring. Within seconds I was drawn into the house by shouting in Twi and confronted by the spectacle of Theresa trying to throw all of Agnes’s belongings out of the room and Agnes attempting to restrain her. Here comes the quandary – how much is it my place to intervene in s private dispute when I’m a guest here – and don’t understand the local way of life? So I kind of limply tried to cool things down, but staying on the edge as the argument rolled inside and out of the house.

In the end my mind way made up when the storm hit eleven and things started to turn physical. Theresa started to try and manhandle Agnes out of the room with the poor girl trying to hold her ground leading to pushing, pulling and grappling – I had to put my body between the two and shout at them to stop, which kind of put a pause on things.

Now Theresa is tiny, maybe five feet tall and about six stone, but she’s wiry and as strong as an ox, and a little like the man in the pub that no-one is ever going to fight because you just know he’s prepared to take things one step further than anyone else, she had the strength and willpower that only the desperate or deranged can muster. There would have been only one winner between the two.

Things got calmed to the extent that both women were outside, Theresa sitting under a tree continuing her rant against anything and everything, and Agnes sitting tentatively at a safe distance with me somewhere in the middle. All of us waiting for Big Paul to get back after an urgent call I put in to him (suspiciously absent again when he must have expected it would all kick off). Paul came back presently, and the fall out went off the Richter scale again.

On seeing Paul, Theresa exploded again into full hysterical mode – utterly possessed and the three of them went at it full blast, leaving me once again on the periphery drifting between whether I should be needed to jump in and mediate, and keeping my nose out of their business. That dilema was also decided pretty quickly when out of my sight Paul appeared to deliver a swift kick, knocking Theresa to the floor, I obviously jumped in before the situation could get any worse and the eye of the storm passed.

After all parties separated and the situation diffused to an extent Paul did the responsible thing as ever and disappeared back to church leaving the fallout behind him. Amidst various threats to call the police I decided to take Agnes to the spot for a drink to keep the two women apart which gave Theresa the opportunity to disappear – presumably to seek help or advice elsewhere, leaving a quiet couple of hours before the final act of the day.

Paul and Theresa arrived back separately from church group, Paul turning up with their pastor to try and mediate and calm things down. Further shouting ensued , and the couple eventually left to return to their hotel – I think still determined to move in – either stubborn, principled or plain foolish. I’m not sure which.

In the midst of all of this, Big Paul announced that he’s taken a job working with a start up computer school in the Western Region and will be leaving on Wednesday. Not exactly what we wanted to hear – even if Theresa calms down this time, judging by experience it won’t be long before she goes again.

A tough day for all, my sympathies lie most of all with the couple Agnes and Lovelace – Paul and Theresa both have much to answer for. Through no fault of our own as well we find ourselves in the middle of a soap opera unsure what our role is. Life and culture is of course different here than in the UK, making it difficult to know when boundaries have been crossed, but at the end of the day it’s impossible to ignore it if violence is taking place under our roof!


Friday 21st August
Today was mostly all about not being around the house after the previous two days. In amongst everything we’re still working, so it was a relief to head into the office for a couple of hours in the morning to work on preparing the presentation we’ll be giving to the church on hypertension. Ironic to be talking about high blood pressure with the stress levels in the house at the moment.

After that the girls were going into town with Bernice for a pedicure so I tagged along for the ride and went online whilst they were having their feet massaged. I also caught up with Nanesi, the man I met at the internet café who wants me to partner with him and help recruit UK participants to his volunteer programme – I popped into his office, not because I see myself getting involved, but because he’s a nice guy and I hoped I’d be able to offer him some advice from the volunteers’ eyes – and also a view on marketing, pricing etc.

Not wanting to rush back we wandered around Kumasi for a bit and stopped for a beer to waste a little more time. Thankfully there hasn’t been any repeat of the scenes from yesterday. Theresa didn’t go to the market again today and was sitting on the front step on guard duty when we returned, but sensibly the couple had the foresight to make themselves scare all day.