(K) Ghana 1975-1977

Ghana 1975-1977  These recollections were written 2004.

September the Sixteenth 1975-I remember the date of the flight. a friend  came to Heathrow to see me off.

On the flight –British Caledonian-I was so excited and awestruck by the views over the Sahara.

We arrived and stayed in Accra for a couple of days orientation. We went to the British Council place in Accra first. They were officially responsible for us. I remember passing the billboards on the road and feeling it so curious that there were Africans on the billboards-who else would be there! There were advertisements for Pilsener beer.

It was love at first sight. I almost instantaneously fell in love with Africa . In spite of the din of traffic and the rich smells, there was something gentle and innocent about the people on the billboards-and on the street, most of whom were walking. And there was something light and friendly about the atmosphere.

At the British Council I remember gazing at the greenery-the huge leaves of the banana trees.

We were ‘orientated’ by some officials from the Ministry of Education at Winneba Teacher Training College. All I can remember of this was the friendliness of the Ghanaians and how they so much wanted to teach us how to dance!

I think I got sick pretty much right away: serious stomach cramps right form the start.


I also remember that my future  roommate in the small village of Wa in the bush-said virtually nothing to me-which irritated me. In retrospect, I think he wanted to make friends with the others before they departed to all parts of the country. Probably a good move. I also remember meeting L for the first time. She was the French Canadian volunteer who would be at Wa. She too avoided me like the plague. It wasn’t a very auspicious start as far as my companionship in Wa was concerned!

 I was hopeless with women anyway-painfully shy–and covered it up with a kind of passive-aggressive, resentful ' bluster', which I figured passed for  'manly' in my teens and twenties,  and which quite understandably, failed to have the desired effect of charming  the girls.

I never have never been able to convince myself that anyone could have been more insecure than I was at that age of 22. Basically, I was terrified of all women although my head often told me that women  were more nervous than me-but this knowledge did not  stop me from quaking in my boots in the presence of many females. L was  very pretty in a tomboyish way. Prettiness and beauty in a female have always intimidated me.

When we reached Wa after a two day journey by bus, A and I rolled up at the school. Of course our bungalow was not ready for us, and we had to clean it on our hands and knees.

The very first night was one to remember: I went to the switch on the wall to put off the light.  As I turned round to look at the bed so I could make my way to it after putting off the light I glanced down and there it was..large as life, sure enough, the proverbial African scorpion making it’s way towards the bed from the wall! I was transfixed with terror. I shouted for A who was equally hopeless and in panic. We searched for something to squash it with and we couldn’t find anything –eventually I got a tin with an elevated bottom and this only just managed to successfully squash the intruder! Of course we were the intruders and we were disturbing it!

I remember the first staff meeting was at 9 .A.M. the following day.

I remember splashing my way through the rain and  mud to reach the staffroom on time-a very silly thing to do in Africa. All the Ghanaian teachers,  quite sensibly waited until the rain had finished–only a white man would run thru the puddles   to be on time!

I remember being  ‘appointed’ Head of science in that very first meeting. I was also told I would be teaching O level Chemistry then - not biology! I hadn’t a clue about the chemistry but I had my old book from Campbell ‘Clynes and Williams’ and I had one week to prepare a course. I started from the beginning with the structure of the atom – which I think I did with all five classes! I managed to keep a couple of days ahead of my O level class all year-and no-one was any the wiser! My students did very well and I learned a very valuable lesson early in my professional life, namely that I could do just about anything if I was  asked.

The Laboratory was really little more than a old room–more like a garage room with two long benches . There were three Bunsen Burners which worked. Each was attached to a gas cylinder under the bench. There were no sinks. Just a bucket of water and assorted pieces of glassware –a few test tubes and beakers etc. Very few chemicals –but there huge vat-like bottles of concentrated Sulphuric acid, Sodium, Potassium and Phosphorous! There were two memorable Lab assistants, both obliging, but with very  modest skills.

The students were wonderful. I loved them. They were so friendly and appreciative of the work I did with them. I remember after about six weeks of teaching General Science students., two of them came to my bungalow and and said...

‘Master, would you be able to give us extra classes in the evening?’

I said

‘Ok’ . So, at 7 pm I turned up, and all thirty eight of them were sitting there!

A few days later I asked my star student Adams Adamu what he would like to do when he left WASECO. He said

‘I would like to go to New York Sir!’

‘Ok, I said , and if you can’t go to New York ?’

‘London, sir!’.

I took a deep breath.

“And if you can’t make it to London?

“Accra sir!”

Accra was the capital of Ghana-600 miles away from Wa.

This brief conversation gave me much food for thought. I realized that what I was doing was helping to depopulate a very poor part of rural Ghana of its most able and intelligent youth. I was helping to send them to New York - or at least Accra –how idealistic was that!

I did a lot of soul searching and decided I was enjoying life too much to resign. So, I did not resign in disgust. I remember the names of all the others in that group....Kwesi Basambe Tongo, Winniyah Seidu Nabor, and Bakaweri BVC. at the time I thought they were the most wonderful group of young people I had ever met.

I loved the teaching in spite of the blistering heat.

Alphonsus Asumah The Head Prefect was perfect gentleman, and at 24, two  years older than I was. After class he would walk me to my bungalow holding me by the hand. I had a bicycle which he sometimes borrowed. He used the most quaint form of English

‘Master, I came to your bungalow and met your absence’. The politeness, the respect.

It was a boarding school and on Saturday evenings the students would set up dancing sessions using their wooden xylophones and dancing away in the dust to entertain themselves. I was in heaven-transported by the romance of the scene.

The staff were from all over Ghana. Some young-some older.

There was Mr. S , the Head, who seemed to be quite efficient but was not popular  by the  missionaries who regarded him as an ambitious wheeler dealer.

The Deputy, the benign Mr Kwankwari  had a permanent but forced grin on his face. He was a man of the world and knew that I was just a transient creature who would pass through. (something I didn’t know because  I was so full of my own self-importance). He was friendly, like all Ghanaians, but I think a little taken aback by the arrogance of the white volunteers. We had assembly every morning at 7 outside around the flagpole and we would sing the national anthem. I didn’t of course as I thought such things were ‘divisive’. Nationalism for me–as a child of the seventies, was a redundant and dangerous concept. I remember Mr. Kwankwari asking me one day very politely

“Why don’t you sing the anthem?

I think he was rather bemused by my attitude –I don’t blame him.

There were some younger Ghanaian staff from the South and a few older ones with families from the north. There was Mr. I-the agriculture teacher and another other ‘agric’ teacher whose little boy died of drinking kerosene by mistake. There was also Mr B the Bible studies teacher who was very strict and short tempered.

There was Mr. P  the English teacher who was very friendly. Mr P  later became a member of parliament and is now Speaker of the House

But perhaps the person I got to know best was John D, the Physics teacher.

John was a small and gentle Ghanaian man from Takoradi. I used to go and chat to him in his house. His wife was living in Takoradi on the coast. At Christmas, he invited me to stay with him in Takoradi. I had a great time. On the way back I took Nick W (another volunteer) with me to Wa. We got on well together. He was a qualified doctor who wanted to be an administrator without doing any doctoring. He had a great sense of humour. He stayed with me in Wa for a while. That was the last I ever saw of him.

John was a very gentle fellow. I had a dog called ‘Tofa’ – and she really was a cracker of a bush dog. I grew attached to her of course. Well, Tofa and my friendship with John came to a tragic end.

Midway thru the second year John’s wife died giving birth to their first baby. In Ghana, the funeral expenses are enormous and poor John didn’t have the money. He borrowed about ten dollars off me and then I think he was embarrassed to ask for more. So what did he do? He arranged for ‘Tofa’ to be kidnapped and sold to be eaten in the local village!

I only found this out a few days before I left Wa forever, after my two year stay.. It was very embarrassing, John couldn’t look me in the eye for the last few days. It was so sad.

The Volunteers were an interesting group. There was J  and R in a village one hour away,  Jirapa. Both English. J was a great type-a really energetic, practical but easy going female with a great sense of humour. She actually came to visit me in Ireland after I had returned there. I used to go to Jirapa and stay there for a break from Wa. (and Allen.!) Ralph was a dour Liverpudlian with a sense of humour which appealed to me. We used to amuse ourselves and everyone else by mimicking the local accents

‘Eeh! We Ghanaians - we are Sooo corrupt!’

Polly W was also in Jirapa –she was a Londoner –and Heather E, from Toronto, with her 5 year old daughter was also in Jirapa.

My own two companions were each very interesting in very different ways: A, my housemate in the first year was a  misfit-I can’t imagine anyone less suited to being a volunteer. He was very prim and proper and I think he disapproved of his uncouth, 'Irish' housemate –but he was too polite to say so. He never really relaxed and enjoyed Ghana.

He wasn’t popular with the locals. I remember one night he got fed up with the noise in the next bungalow. It was classic. Africans live with noise-chickens, voices ,radios punctuate the darkness at night. It is never quiet. I used to put cotton wool in my ears.

But one night A couldn’t stand it any longer –and he went across to the bungalow and asked them to turn off the radio! He was never forgiven for doing that!

I loved the frendliness of people, and I trusted them in a way couldn't trust the Irish or the English. I  would even deliberately leave the door of the bungalow open when I went out ! I was tempting fate! It was almost as if I was determined that this was going to be  paradise, and in paradise there were no locked doors. It was of course a stupid and irresponsible act, which Allen quite rightly took exception to. He didn't want his belongings stolen! This attitude of tempting fate has persisted with me. It is  almost as if I wanted to force the world to be a paradise, the way that I wanted it to be! This anecdote gives you an idea of how idealistic I was.

Very soon after my arrival in Wa I got sick of course. In fact I think I was sick before I even arrived in Wa! I would get these awful stomach cramps –gripes-and have to take to my bed in a sweat for a whole day. The next day I would go back to work although not fully recovered.

As the months wore on the attacks became longer and more severe. The missionaries thought it was amoebic dysentery and they recommended a vicious drug called 'Flagyl'. I took three a day–after eating. They almost made me dizzy –and I was nauseas. But they did no good at all and the attacks kept coming.

One day I had cycled down to the mission to see Mick G who was training to be a catholic priest. After a coffee I told him I wasn’t  feeling well and off I went to the toilet.

The next thing I remember is being pulled off the floor and out of the toilet by Mick with my pants still around my ankles. He was laughing!

I had fainted with the pain of the cramps.

Anyway, I decided to go to the south again for the long summer break.

On my way back,  I called in with Nigel R at the British council–my boss. Nigel took one look at me and said

’My God, Donald, you look awful what is wrong with you?’

I said ‘What do you mean? I feel ok!"

But I had lost a lot of weight and Nigel immediately spotted it and sent me home to London to the Hospital for Tropical Diseases.

He made me go back to Accra to make the arrangements immediately. I sent a telegram to Mum saying I was 'thinking' of going home for a visit. I did not say I was sick.

Meantime my mother had written to me to say that my eldest brother was getting married in August.

I replied immediately by telegram asking her to reply 'instantly' informing me of the date so that I could attend the wedding and coincide with my trip home to hospital in London.

The photographs are proof of my attendance at the wedding-even if I was a bit thin!

In those days there was no fax or e-mail . I had not spoken to my parents by phone in over a year. It was too expensive in those days.There was no e-mail, Facebook, Messenger or text messaging!


I spent almost two weeks in London in the hospital for Tropical diseases while they did test after test. Eventually, they said they thought it was ‘Giardiasis’

"It is quite common" they said "even here in England!"!! I was a little deflated...thinking I had some exotic tropical disease!

'The difference is you have a massive dose of it and it has damaged the absorption by the villi in your intestine'

‘What shall I do ?’ I said.

They told me to go to Belfast and take twelve ‘Flagyl’ after breakfast and go to bed!!! (the same drug I had been taking in Ghana all year). I was to repeat this for three days in a row. These were the same pills I had been taking in Ghana all year. This I did –and I never looked back!

It was great to get some home-made raspberry Jam and Mum’s cooking! At the end of August I went back form Belfast to the London hospital for a check-up. I was fine.

But just before I left they announced that a blood test showed that I had (subclinical) Hepatitis!

My God! I was devastated. Hepatitis was serious.

The curious thing was that I felt fine. Day after day went by and I still felt fine. I was really anxious to get back to Ghana. I phoned Dilys N –an English Doctor who had been in Jirapa. She told me that in London they were probably just holding me in order to carry out experimental tests and that I should discharge myself-if I felt ok. So, I did just that, and walked into VSO headquarters in London and asked them to book me a ticket to Accra.

In a few days I was back in Wa again. When I arrived there, a new volunteer, Rod T had moved into the old house I had been sharing with A.

I had asked for my own house in the second year.

Rod was not a happy chappy. He was miffed that I had allowed Alphonsus Asumah to borrow my bicycle over the summer break. The bicycle was not available for Rod – he registered his displeasure in no uncertain terms with me!

Almost immediately he became sick and within twelve weeks he was back in England. Officially, it was thyroid trouble. But I never saw much of him, and don’t know what the real story was.

Phil G, my old buddy form Trinity College Dublin, visited at some stage-I can’t remember when exactly. I don’t think he was that impressed really. Phil had been a good friend in TCD but he had changed and become quite hardened to life–a side of him which I grew to dislike.


Louise  L was something else. She was, like many Canadian and Australian females independent, to a fault.. I found her very difficult to deal with at first. She seemed like the stereotypical aggressive, cold, white female who terrified me. She made me quake in my boots.I had always found white women cold and unapproachable

but, after a few weeks a strange thing happened. Determined to forge some sort of relationship with her as  the only other white person in the school (apart from Alistair),  I called on Louise in her bungalow one night - and to my complete surprise she welcomedme and invited me in.

 Having broken the ice I was astounded to find her to be really quite personable. I used to pass her bungalow on my way home from school in the evenings every night, and so it was easy for me to call in on her. Soon, I began to feel attracted to her and feel it was mutual. I got into the habit of calling in on her  in the evenings as I knew  she enjoyed my visits. I could tell. She had beautiful blue eyes and sensual lips and  was very intelligent,and talkative. We talked and talked  about anything and everything under the sun.  Within a few weeks  I was beginning to have really  serious feelings of attraction which I had never had before,.It was so exciting, and yet somehow I could not bring myself to make 'the first move' to take the relationship to the next level. I didn't really know even what that really meant. In those days I started telling myself. 'Come on, you are expected to take her to bed!'  I think that is what she expected and wanted, but I just  I didn't know what to do!

In retrospect, she clearly expected me to take her to bed. After all, this was the seventies, and that's what men and women did at 23, and very much earlier in most cases. I was a late developer and  a virgin (as was she ) and neither of us had the remotest  how to proceed. We both became frustrated.  I  fantasised about her all the time, but I just didn't know how to proceed. I was so angry with myself.

Unfortunately, although she was a confident woman in many respects, in matters of the heart (and the 'bed') she was as inexperienced as I was!  She wasn't confident enough to make the first move either.

Maybe this is just a rationalsiation for my own ineptitude,  but until then, I had  always told myself   that sex before marriage was a risky thing - if the couple didn’t intend to marry. Marry? Of course, I couldn't even  look after myself, let alone a partner, much less  a child!  I was still a boy. What would happen to the child if she became pregnant?

This sounds ludicrously old fashioned now, but at the time it made sense to me.  I had no idea how to use condoms and besides, where could i get one in Wa??  And  I  had never had the courage to ask anyone, even my male friends, about that sort of thing. There was no internet in those days and we had been taught nothing at school or at home. Mum and Dad were too embarrassed by the subject and  looked the other way when that type of subject would pop up in in conversation. In fact, they made pretty damn sure that it didn't pop up in conversation!  I had 2 brothers who were much older than me and wouldn't talk to their 'kid brother' about such things either. I had no sisters and had been to a boys only school.  I was clueless. Perhaps this was a   major reason I had run away form my own culture-a culture with which I have never been at ease ( a feeling which persists, even to this day).A psychologist might say it was no surprise I was in a remote village in Africa. Here I was locked up with this attractive woman who was attracted to me. I was  excited and scared to be madly in love with this beautiful person.  and yet I didn't know what to do. It was maddening.


I suppose nowadays I think  sex is ok for the unpartnered, as long as you are careful. women know how to protect themselves and men too. These days, women are more independent of men financially and, ifnecessary, they can bring up a child on their own, if that is what they want. I know many women who even choose to do this rather than live with a partner. But in those days that was a very difficult thing to do!  Both of us were too embarrassed to discuss any of thee issues.


Both of us were so powerfully attracted to each other–it seemed so natural for us to go to bed with each other, but I wouldn’t make the move, and subsequent events showed that she expected me to do that.

Sexual frustration entered into the relationship and it was hell for me,and probably for us both.

Louise  had a very, very  soft side to her. Although her natural voice was quite strident, when she relaxed, it changed , and  her voice became soft and seductive. For me, with some women, it is just a few words ,or a look which  enslaves me for ever. I was soon enslaved by louise. In my opinion, men may be more powerful physically but women have much  more psychological and emotional power over men, for me anyway. .One look,or a few words in the right tone,  and I am a slave for life. Its just not fair! I was soon truly smitten. She was very astute, articulate and and happy to talk to me about any topic under the sun.

Surprisingly, in spite of all this  unresolved sexual  frustration and tension, we developed a very strong  relationship over  the next year. It was heaven and it was hell.

On St Patrick’s day 1976 (in our second year)  I remember being invited to the Catholic mission by Father Eugene for a beer. We had music and Louise and I danced. That was the closest we ever got to each other physically. I drank one bottle of ‘Star’ beer and my constitution was so weak (with the giardiasis) that I became drunk and suddenly felt violently ill. I staggered off into the night and found the steps of the chapel an appropriate place to throw up. Somehow, I found my way back to a car to get a ride home. I don’t think Father Eugene was impressed. nor did he approve of the friendship. He visited Louise (a catholic) regularly after that-probably to warn her about me!

In the second year she started to come to my bungalow for lunch after school. She some times didn’t leave till mid-afternoon. I felt so emotionally  close to her. She was a true soul-mate! My first true female soulmate. In spite of our problems, I felt confident in myself and in her feelings for me. My masculinity was affirmed.

 But she was a woman too, and sadly for both of us, it all ended very badly. A few weeks before we were due to leave Wa, quite unexpectedly, she decided to sleep with the PE/ Maths  teacher...Jones Netty.

Jones was  a very congenial, charmimg guy with a great body. Of course, he was attractive

I suppose Louise decided that  she was going to lose her virginity.I never did find out from her how or why it happened

I don't know how I found out. I did notice them hanging out together in the evenings in her bungalow. One evening, as I was passing her bungalow, I heard Jones 'booming' voice inside through the louvered windows.They were in bed and I could hear them from outside through the louvered windows.

 Louise had stopped coming for lunch and when I heard them through the window,  the penny finally dropped.

Jones was a great character and I bear him no ill-will at all. He  was an affable fellow.loise was a very attractive white woman.  Nature took it’s course and she slept with him.

 But I was crushed. My pain was indescribable. I had absolutely no idea that she would even contemplate sleeping with Jones. I'm sure she did it without realsing how it  would make me feel. After all, I had  had my chances, so many of them, hadn't I.?

but,it seemed to me the ugliest of   betrayals. It was an atrocity. This was my first  experience of the  raging power of passion. It was excrutiatingly painful,  and I was uncontrollably  angry. I can't describe the rage..I was emotionally eviscerated.  To make matters worse, Jones  was such a nice guy and I liked him!

Anyway, when I found out I  reacted very badly and confronted her with angry accusations and recriminations. I did and I said unthinkable things that I should not have said and done. They are best left unsaid. I am not proud of them.

I think I only really realized then what an ugly and violent temper I really had. I was 23. Thankfully, there was only three weeks to go till we left Wa for ever

Louise never spoke to me again except, surprisingly to ask me for a photograph  a few days before we left. I obliged with a feeling of emptiness.

A year or so later in Ireland, I wrote to her and she did reply to say she had 'recovered'  from it  all by staying on her Uncles farm in Quebec.She wanted to forget  about it all. Women are so much more practical then I am in these matters. They can just cut themselves off when they want to from a relationship. I can't do that. I couldn't forget her and I never will. I can understand why she cut me off.

So, it all ended in tears. I was glad to leave in the end-what with Louise, John D and Tofa, I was really ready to go anywhere.I couldn't have survived another week

I met Mick G, the priest, years later in Dublin when he was ordained.

A few years after that he left the priesthood and married!

He was a good looking fellow. Louise  used to say he was wasted as a priest!

Some of the trips south were memorable. Getting up at 3.a.m. in the morning to walk to Wa bus station in order to queue for a ticket to Kumasi. Then the long ride to Kumasi on the big SETRA buses –East German made. Then the trip to Accra..

I remember sleeping one night on a bench in the bus station in Kumasi and then getting up to go to the ticket office at 5. A.M. Although the crush was indescribable, it was exciting-and the Ghanains were invariably a delight to be with. I never had even one moment of anxiety in my two years in Ghana.

Towards the end I began to think of what I would do next. It was amazing-in those days there was no concern about unemployment. As it happened Phil G talked to his boss at King’s .Hospital School Dublin to offer me a job. It was as simple as that!

Everything was so simple in those days! So, when I got home in 1977 I already had a job!