Homeward by Bassey Ikpi brought back memories from the first time I went to Ghana (2004). When I first arrived, I told a few people that my name was Gillean (Gil-lea-en) and people questioned whether both my parents were Ghanaian because my name to them seemed foreign and difficult for a Ghanaian person to give to their child. To make it easier for everyone, I decided to tell everyone my Akan name ‘Ama Pokuaa’. But once people heard my accent and found out that I was Australian, they insisted on trying to pronounce my English name. I ended up with many variations of my name ‘Gideon’, ‘Gidon’, ‘Gilen’, ‘Gil-lyn’, my own Grandma had her own variation. I could tell she struggled with the ‘lean’ part but she always had the ‘G’ going on and always made effort of trying to say it.
Before I met my Grandmother, I knew that she didn’t speak English. I was ready for my watered down Akan with my Australian accent to kick in. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to brush up my Akan. But my grandmother seemed more fascinated with the foreign language (English) which I spoke with my Mum. Everyone else seemed fascinated with it as well. They would watch in amazement at the speed I spoke, the slang I used and the way my Mum would respond to me. No one wanted to hear all the Akan I had built up inside me. It got to a stage where we had children outside our living room window trying to listen to the things I would say. I would shoo them away and they would run laughing, trying to repeat what I was saying and then arguing over who was saying it better.
Good Times!
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