Accra’s vibrant streets pulsed with life, but my heart remained numb. I had
witnessed too many friends succumb to the whims of love, only to emerge
scarred and battered. Kofi, my childhood friend, was the latest casualty. His
divorce had left him shattered, struggling to rebuild.
As I sat with Kofi at the busy Oxford Street café, sipping on a cold Star beer, his
words echoed in my mind: “I thought marriage was forever, but forever came
and went.” His story reinforced my resolve: I would never make the same
mistake.
“I can make many stupid mistakes,” I often said to myself, “but not that of
getting married.” The thought of spending my life working hard, only for
someone to swoop in and claim half of everything, was unbearable. No, I was
convinced – love was a risk I would not take.
Little did I know, fate had other plans.
Ghana’s cultural landscape, with its rich traditions and modern twists, would
soon test my convictions. The vibrant markets, bustling streets, and warm
smiles of Accra’s residents would become the backdrop for my own journey of
self-discovery.
In this city, where ancient customs and contemporary aspirations collided, I
would confront the complexities of love, heartbreak, and personal growth. And,
just perhaps, I would learn that love’s bitter pill was worth swallowing.