Obama

On November 4th I was on my way to Malawi. It was time to go and check on the projects I left behind and after a few difficult months in limbo, I was more than ready for a reunion friends and family there. Unfortunately Clement was in the midst of exams so he will stay in Kumasi. I promised to return with edibles and stories. In order to register as a nurse in Ghana I must take an exam. The exam is only offered in June and December and when I bought my ticket they did not yet have a set date in December. After I bought my ticket they set the date for December 3^rd, so in the end Clement and I could have traveled together.

I spent the night of the 4th in Accra with friends. Thoughts of the US election consumed me but even late in the evening, coverage of the US elections was minimal. Though the pre-US-election frenzy was not equal to that in the States, for months Africa had been emotionally participating in the US campaign process. Streets vendors sold homemade pamphlets on Obama and his family and people every where discussed what Obama’s election would mean for the continent and whether it was truly possible. The night of the 4th I only lightly skimmed the surface of sleep then around 4am I heard someone switch on TV. Relieved, I jumped out of bed and rushed to a chair in the den. We heard McCain’s speech and then moments later Obama‘s acceptance speech. A friend called and said people were dancing in the streets in New Hampshire. My cousin in New York wrote an email saying people on his block were chanting, “Si, se puede.” As I began my journey, to the airport in Accra then to Nairobi then to Lilongwe, every television along the way was tuned to the coverage of the US election results. People kept asking if I was an American, if I voted, and if I voted for Obama. Each yes was met with cheers and handshakes. I don’t remember ever feeling this way. I guess for the first time I was beginning to believe in the American dream; recognizing with awe and pride the reality of dramatic peaceful transformation of a country in the span of a single lifetime. My mother, my aunts and uncles lived under Jim Crow, my older cousin desegregated their high schools, and now we have a black president. Hope and change don’t sound like mere slogans but forces that have been working their way up to the surface and are beginning to bubble.