Ghana must go, Taye Selasi

 

There are many ways of going, dying is one of them. Kweku Sai, father of four decides to leave his family. The book opens with his death, he dies alone in a house he built in Ghana, in the midst of a bed of flowers that reminded him of his first wife (Folasáde), just like on the cover of the Finnish translation that I read. He dies of a broken heart, or in medical terms, a heart attack. Finally feeling and gripped of the past catching up with him, the realization of having left his love and his children 16 years ago and hence having become estranged from them.

Taye Selasi's debut novel was published in 2013, the same year when I chose to settle down with a Ghanian man who later much like Kweku Sai, decided to leave. Until I read this novel, I have to admit, I was unaware and innocent to knowing that an African father leaving his children and spouse is an archetype: in other words a typical example. His four children Olu, Taiwo, Kehinde and Sadie grew up and became successful in their academic pursuits. Olu, like his father, became a surgeon and met Ling, the love of his life. When Olu finally is invited to Lings fathers house, the elderly Chinese man starts cracking some wisdoms upon his future son in law: 

"I never understood the problems of Africa. The greed of leaders, diseases and civil wars. Dying in malaria in the 21th century, constant violence and rape, mutilation of genitalia. Small children and nuns cutting throats' with machetes, those girls in Congo, that piece on Sudan? When I was a young man in China i presumed that it's a matter of ignorance or intellectual incapacity, maybe inferiority. Needless to say, I was wrong, as I later discovered. When I came here (to USA) I realized I was wrong. Fair game! But the backwardness is still strong, and why so? Even though African men are so smart, as we have come to learn. And women too, don't get me wrong, I'm not sexist. But why is the place still so backwards? I ask. Do you know what I think? Respect for family is missing. Fathers don't respect their children or wife. That Olu that I knew , Oluwaleikun Abayomi- he had two bastard children plus another tree children by his wife. Unbeatable intellect but no moral spine. That is why you have child-soldiers and rape. How can you respect another mans daughters and sons, when you don't even respect your own?...I assume that your father left your mother to raise you alone?" 

Thus spoke Ling Weis father (freely translated into English from the Finnish novel p. 154) Touché! I've wallowed for more than a decade by my own interest and at times by compulsive curiosity on topics relating to the West African part of this world, and I must say, in no fictive work have I ever read a more factual insight on the topic of families in diaspora, a finer way of saying, alone mothers. Wangari Maathai, may she rest in Peace, a former eco activist in the Eastern Africa I vividly remember saying that "Women are the backbone of Africa" but I'd dare to say, this more than rightly applies to women everywhere. 

Ghana must Go, is a term that relates to the expelling of near two million undocumented Ghanaian refuges from Nigeria in the 1980's. But in Taye's novel, it's a more dynamic concept, it relates to the urgent need to go, to leave ones country. The parents, Kweku and Folasáde had both known migration before they formed their family as expats in USA, a country where it's exceptionally hard to fit in, as an African person, lest one assumes the Afro American culture. Leaving or making a hurried exit might also apply to the dramatic choice to leave ones family and migrate back to Ghana. For a grounded and rational man, for a morally right man, such a choice should not exist. In my own Finnish culture, there's a saying "Women and children first" even though this admittedly has become a hazy concept to a majority of men in my culture, originally, abandoning fatherly responsibilities is a social tabu. 

When the children and Fola returned to Ghana since the fathers passing, the twins Taiwo and Kehinde sat in a taxi and where asked of the driver about their family origin. The driver asked where in Ghana their dad was from (precise origin being of great importance), Kehinde answered "I don't know" to the amazement of the driver. Taiwo, at this, began laughing uncontrollably which seemed ill suited according to the driver. But only those who have been impacted and felt the pain a family goes trough upon a spouse and father leaving, or abandoning his own, can know, that abandonment especially by a father is a sort of death. The death of hope, security and trust in the one person that was supposed to be an immovable rock, a place of refuge for many. The actual death of Kweku Sai didn't grieve his children as he was already dead to them since the moment he pulled out of the driveway and drove away for the final time. There i learned a nuance, the children's grief was different than Folas. They grieved the wounds that his leaving had caused while Fola grieved her lover, and her friend, the one she had now finally lost. 

In the end, when they all gathered in Ghana for the funeral, there was two interesting events that wrap up the story. Olu, who had fought the ideas presented by Ling Weis father, embraces them as true. He comes to conflict with his self image and breaks down crying, letting out the steam and anger finally, being released from it. Olu cries out when speaking to Ling "I know what dad was. He was that man. He was the stereotype. The African dad who abandons his children. I never wanted others to see us that way...I hate him because he was an African man. I hate him because he hurt my mother, I hate him because he left and because he died. I hate him because he died alone." Ling then tries to comfort him by saying that maybe Kweku tried his best, and maybe all he did was what he could do. But for those who know the pain, dismiss that as such surface things that people would say, something soothing that is rather quite salty on open wounds. 

When Folasáde arrives at the house that Kweku built she meets Kwekus second wife, Ama, now a widow. The small details of the original house, like the K and F carved into the gate handles, reveals to Fola that Kweku thought of her and missed her, yet he had left her. Ama answered the gate, she was described early on in the book as a quiet, submissive woman, almost as a non-person "with a voice that innocently awaited orders" whereas Fola, upon introducing herself to the new widow "sounded like a river, and riverbed, flowing, a voice that doesn't wait for orders but kindly gives them." Fola is described as a warrior,  a river woman, carrying a bosom full of those very flowers that Kweku had planted in the garden where he died. Man! There's some deep symbolism there, a man who didn't make it further than the garden. God's instructions where clear in Geneis 3, he was to provide for his family, more than money, love, security, a Christlike shelter, he was to be her home, her steadfast place, a place where they would together bring up their children. 

On the last pages I scribbled some notes in ink: Kweku died of a broken heart. What broke his heart was to leave his family, it took 16 years for the realization to catch up with him. Why did he leave, was it pride, fear of failure or was it truth that finally broke him?  

Many unanswered questions, just like in real life. This was a sad but good book. I think Taye Selasi, is very very smart and insightful. Here's a link to Wikipedia, if you want to know more about the author Taye Selasi

My literary trips to Africa have now come to a halt for a while, it's Victober, but I've taken a one way ticket to France and started Bojour Tristesse today, yes, yes, the ruffled hems of Victorian dresses await me still. I have decided that I still wish to complete Wildfell Hall by end of this month. Many happy readings to you, dear imaginary reader of this blog a happy and vividly colorful autumn to you.