We chorused loudly to Heavy D’s nineties hit. The place was buzzing, drinks were flowing, there was a lot of shouting and dancing, and food was in abundance. I was on the dance floor, dancing my heart out. A short while later, all my friends gathered around me and cheered me on, “Go Bonsu!” “Go Bonsu!” “Go Bonsu!” The atmosphere was electric. I had organized this party for over two hundred people to mark my going abroad; after all, that seemed to be the tradition in my family. My first brother had finished his O-levels and traveled abroad that same year to join the military, the same with my second “Now that we’ve found love, what are we gonna do with it?” “Now that we’ve found love, what are we gonna do with it?” “After O’s – Somewhere there is a party going on” older brother. Naturally, this was the pattern, so I convinced my mother to allowme to hold a goingaway party. That was in June. By July, I was still in Ghana. Ei. Sometime around mid-July, I asked my mother, “When would I be leaving Ghana?” “Talk to your dad,” she said, so I asked my dad. “What is the rush?” He asked. In my head, the rush was, “I just had a going-away party in June, and I’m still in Ghana.” Sometime in August, friends started asking, “When are you leaving Ghana?” We were in September, and I was still hanging around Ghana, with no plan or schedule, which meant I couldn’t frequent town too often. I felt like going to hide in my father’s wardrobe. In late September, I asked my mum again about my travel plans, and she replied, “You had the going-away party, so you should have your travel plans.” At that moment, I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. Eish! Eventually, in October of that year, my mum informed me that I would be traveling with her to London for a few days, after which I would head to Germany. How relieved I was! You would think that I had learned my lesson! Instead of sitting down quietly, I asked my mom if I could organize a mini-party before I left. Looking at me and shaking her head in disbelief, she said sarcastically, “Talk to your dad.” At that point, I knew the mini-going away party wasn’t happening. I finally left Ghana at the end of October 1991. 12 The Birthday Journal
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