Inside Ghana's Bustling Art, Music and Fashion Scene
Earlier this year, a woman named Jossa Johansson posted a photo of her and a young African girl sharing presumably a departing hug. The major issue with the photo is the tone-deaf caption underneath. "Dear child, you inspire me," Johansson begins. "You inspire me to be the best person I can be to everyone around me, even my enemies. Because I would never even want this for my worst enemy. I am sorry to tell you that there is a very small chance that we are ever gonna meet again. In two years you are going to meet a grown up man that you have never met, you two are going to have a child, and if you're lucky he's gonna stay with you, but he will probably leave you alone with your child in your small home made of mud and tree's. You will probably sell your body to someone else to make money for your child. Dear child, keep safe."
I really can’t with the white savior syndrome. Not only is it toxic but it continues the false narrative that the entire continent of Africa is in a state of despair. This is exactly why T’Challa and ‘em wanted to hide Wakanda from us. Ahead, a recap of my trip to the continent — without the poverty porn.
Ama Kwakye Co.1/8What I remember most about my arriving in Accra, was the sound of warmth. I know that sounds weird, but hear me out. I had been traveling for over fourteen hours between delays and layovers and honestly the last thing I wanted to do was deal with extreme heat. But to my pleasant surprise I was met with the beats of traditional drums; and every airport employee greeting groups of tourist and locals alike with “welcome home.” I never felt more home in my life. The city was bustling with people, taxis (trying to overcharge tourists, but I wasn’t having it), and street vendors selling immediate necessities like Fango Frozen Yogurt and bottled water.
Like a true New Yorker, I navigated the busy streets with my two full-sized suitcases and backpack in tow. The energy and warmth in the airport spilled out into the streets as a handful of people offered to help me with my things while I tried to find a taxi. An older woman stuck her hand out to stop a taxi and negotiate pricing in her native tongue on my behalf. After she was finally able to get me and all my belongings into a taxi, she closed the car door, waited until I was all snuggled in, and said “see you later, little sister.” I was finally home.
Sunglasses, Nrodae Eyewear, dress, These Pink Lips, fanny pack, Vanity Life NYC, earringsm Beads Byaree, shoes Michael Kors2/8A short ride later, I arrived at The Movenpick Ambassador Hotel, a modern-day paradise in the heart of the Accra. The staff made me feel like a true princess as soon as I arrived. I was greeted with a glass of fresh-squeezed pineapple juice and genuine inquiries about how my flight and ride had been. I had already done my research on the hotel to find that it wasn’t your average touristy attraction. Not to mention boss babe and fellow Ghanaian Bozoma St. John, bestie in my head Yvonne Orji, and everyone’s bae Kofi Siriboe were all staying at the same hotel. For heaven's sake, the Queen of Denmark had just checked out before I got there.
sunglasses, Beads Byaree, swimsuit and coverup, BFYNE3/8From the intricately designed pool, to the the luxurious spas, I could see why everyone loves this hotel. In work mode per usual, I would stop the staff during breakfast to learn more about their lives in Ghana. I'd often ask them what they thought of Americans and the consensus was always the same. They were disappointed that West Africa was consistently painted in a constant state of despair. “We are not a never-ending feed the children commercial,” the concierge told me one morning.
dress, Ron David, pants, Chnobz4/8Can we just be done with that narrative already? There's poverty all over the world but often the media makes a point to portray all African nations as destitute. Not only is Ghana a far cry from a feed the children commercial, but it is actually a pretty spectacular place to visit — starting with the arts.
sunglasses, NRODA, dress, Queen E. Collection5/8If you haven’t already noticed West African influences in our fashion, beauty, and music scenes (consider the explosion of Afrobeats, for example), you must be living under a rock.
Something felt very voyeuristic about taking photos of and with people at the markets but I snagged all the shea butter, fabric, and printed totes my heart desired. From the bold kente print to the delicate ways in which lace is incorporated into everyday looks, I was in awe of each and every street style outfit.
jumpsuit, Rikki, belt, OTT Dubai, fanny pack, Dior, stole, Life Of G.O.D.S., necklace, Lola Ade6/8Even if I never left the hotel, I could get lost in the history of both the building and its rich art. One could easily mistake each corridor for a traveling exhibition in the Whitney Museum. The hotel’s designers worked closely with local artist to create one-of-a-kind paintings, decor, and instillations that were unique to each floor.
Getty Images7/8Though it was tempting to relax in the comfy lounge chairs by the pool all day, I ventured out to the city instead. The memory I'll treasure most came on my last day when we went on to Cape Cost or The Point of No Return, one of the places across the West African sea border where slaves were captured and shipped like cargo to The Americas and Europe. I don’t think the chipped paint and red dust from the floor will ever leave my memory. And I am oddly and proudly OK with that. It’s as if I had wrinkled time.
coat, OTT Dubai, jeans, ADW, heels, Christian Louboutin8/8From that emotional moment to the bustling art, music and fashion scenes, my experience in Ghana was so rich and memorable. I hope recaps like this — and not just the endless poverty porn — inspires you to travel home.
