Who Am I?

Undoubtedly, most people will opt for childhood moment rather than adulthood time when they get to judge which stage in life is more exciting. Childhood time is a very interesting one because you get to be naïve and act crazily and still live happily since you care less where and how the next meal would come from. In as much as this time is a fun period for learning, it is also a very important stage in life for a person to create and define who he or she is and who he or she will be. In short, childhood period is a moment for molding ones identity.

Growing up as a child in a place with people from different ethnic backgrounds, I had the chance to hear and taste different languages. My mum spoke Dagaare and Ga with me whilst my Dad communicated with me in English and Dagaare. My Siblings and I responded to my mum in Ga and to my dad in both Ga and English. Conversation among friends and neighbors were in Twi (the dominant language around) and Ga. Once in a while, I tried my luck on some Ewe from some lessons I received from some Voltarian friends. At this stage of my life, I became the typical African who is naturally multilingual. Despite my multilingual achievement, did I really get the identity I wanted? I doubt I did.

The answer to the question above sounded irrelevant in my ears till I travelled to the Northern part of Ghana for the first time in my life. It all happened when I completed my Junior Secondary School and my parents finally decided to send me to Nandom in the Upper West Region. Nandom Kokoligu is the place of my ancestors and that is my father’s village and my village as well whether I like it or not. I was born and bred in Accra and for reasons best known to my parents, they decided to wait that long before taking us to their hometown. I believe there are numerous stories like mine and in some worse cases, the children became adults and never had the chance in life to know where they came from. Well, the long and short of my story was that I was sent to my village for the first time at age 14. Although I was happy to have been there, I felt extremely sad because communication between me and the people who were supposed to be my blood was difficult. In my own village, I was seen as different instead of being seen as one of them. Ironically, I was proudly labeled a Northerner back in the South. This was the point I began asking myself, who am I? Today I also ask you, who are you? Are you also like me or your children are like me? Back in the village am seen as different and back in the south am seen a northerner.

Years have moved on and I have tried in my own way to get the identity I wanted but funny enough, my life as a teacher has exposed me to many cases of Ghanaian children with confused identity just like me. Mine was better; at least I understood and spoke a little of my language. The situation now is worse. I have seen numerous students born and bred in Ghana with names like Nhyira, Adofo, Quartei, and Osei who do not understand any local language except the Queen’s language (English). Whenever the local language is spoken to them, all they do is to stare at you like you were the one who betrayed Jesus Christ. Monolingualism is a part of us now and the greatest sufferer is our local languages. Surprisingly, most parents usually from well to do homes have endorsed this phenomenon of language and so speaking the local language to their children at home is a No No. I wonder what such parents intend to achieve with this. What kind of identity do they want to curve for their children?

I vowed not to mention our system of education as a factor for this trend but I will take back my words and address it as such. Personally, I think our system of education has over the years succeeded in convincing and persuading students to Love their mothers and Hate their tongue. In most private schools, information that first greets you is ‘Do not speak Vernacular.’ Vernacular here is the local language and a violation of this attracts serious punishment. Let’s take a look at another scenario.

A student goes for his WAEC results and sees English 1 and Ga/Twi 5. He becomes excited and not bordered. The same student gets English 5, and Ga/Twi 1, all hell breaks loose because he has FAILED. Well, that is the reality of the situation; our very system of education fights against what gives us identity when it’s supposed to be incorporated in the system like its policy states.

If there is anything I will forget from my lesson in JSS, it will not be the definition of MATTER and CULTURE. Culture is the way of life our people live. So today, what can we say is our culture? Hmmm, the answer is simple. Culture now is the way our children do not understand the language of their mothers and proudly speak English because is the mark of a good student. Culture has become staying with your nuclear family and forgetting about where you come from. Culture is painting everything from our village demonic and satanic. Very Funny! Our culture is ours and our language is culture.

Eric Ziem Bibiebome

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