Returning home: Navigating re-entry shock in Ghana – by Benedicta Ekua Arthur
Back from Germany to Ghana after Phase 1 of the ASA Academia project #1107 in 2025
Some readers may remember me from last year. My name is Benedicta Ekua Arthur, a kindergarten teacher of English in Ghana who had the privilege to stay at the University of Education Karlsruhe in Germany for 3 months last year on the ASA Academia project in Karlsruhe #1104.
The shock of coming home
Coming back to Ghana after staying in Germany is not just about returning to my beloved country. It is also an emotional and cultural journey. I had the shock of my life. I sensed the shock waves reached their peak in a bitter flavor. I find myself romanticizing about the things which once infuriated me, the difficult climate, hauling water, the noise, etc. I talked about the “chaos” of Cape Coast, the power outages which would not occur in Karlsruhe. I felt the shock of withdrawal after leaving the life that I had left behind in Germany. The shock proves my development and versatility. Although it is hard, successfully navigating it makes me a more enriched individual in both cultures.
The chaos is not something that hinders my life. It is actually what I will use to reconstruct my life. I am breathing, listening, and starting a new life in me. Let me walk you through my journey.
Language: When your tongue feels alien
My tongue feels alien to me now switching between two major languages thus Fante and German. Switching happens automatically without thinking.
I insert a politely considered “Entschuldigung” (“excuse me” in German) into a packed taxi. Then I quickly change to “Mepa wo kyɛw” (please, in Twi/Fante) when I want to board.
I say “genau” instead of “exactly.” The precision of my German mind translates into precise words.
But here, I need to communicate relations, not precision. This happened at work and at the university as well. Even when talking to friends. I am caught between two linguistic worlds. I remember one early morning on my way to work greetings someone “Guten Morgen” instead of “Good Morning”. Again, I asked a colleague “wir geht es dir?” and we all burst into laughter.
Infrastructure: The daily reality of water
In Germany, I had the ritual of simply turning a knob. Instantly, clean hot or cold water appeared. It was that simple.
Here in Ghana, water becomes a central daily task. Its availability dictates your schedule. You need planning. You need physical effort. You need storage.
The shock is not just in the fetching. It is in the mental load of securing a basic resource. This is something Germany’s infrastructure made completely abstract.
I had to reframe this chore. I now see it as a tangible, physical connection to a vital element. I invested in large storage containers. I bought a serious water filter. Most importantly, I accepted the “time tax”. This chore steals minutes or hours from my day, every single day.
Pedagogy: Bridging two educational worlds
As a kindergarten teacher, I returned with German values: Child-led play. Abundant resources. Structured freedom. The local reality is different. There are fewer materials. There are demands for more output of work. Before accepting the shock, I interrogated the pedagogy. I questioned the teaching resources. I told myself to bridge the two cultures.
I look for small, gentle ways to integrate best practices. More creative play. Inclusive circles. All within the existing framework. I work with what I have.
Sound: From “Ruhe” to relentless rhythm
I left behind a culture that venerates quietness. Germany’s “Ruhe” (quiet/peace) is sacred there.
Now, Ghana’s relentless, vibrant soundscape surrounds me. The buzz of generators. The call of street vendors. Booming music from passing cars and funerals. The constant hum of dense community life. The sensory overload in the first weeks was real. It was exhausting.
I told myself my nervous system will adapt. What feels like an assault will slowly become background texture. Until then, I created my own sanctuaries. Earplugs for sleep. Trips to the beaches for serene moments. Small pockets of peace.
Time: Trading the German clock for Ghana “Man Time”
The German clock was so precise. Reliable. Dictatorial. That is over now.
Instead, it is “Ghana Man Time.” This is a public, relational understanding of time. It is reinforced by brutal, unpredictable, spontaneous events.
I gave in to the beat. I plotted to be inefficient. If I have one serious meeting, I do not plan anything else for that day. I always carry a book or a laptop when waiting. I get work done. I get reading done.
Professional environments call for more time-consciousness than social ones. The stress of the ticking clock is replaced by the stress of spontaneous events and changing agendas. It is just a different kind of stress.
Environment: Confronting the waste crisis
Germany has an engineered waste separation system. It works like clockwork.
Here, I see plastic bags entwined in bushes. They line the roads. They litter the beaches. Random waste-strewn spots everywhere. The smell of burning waste fills the air.
This was an insult to me personally. The environmental stress became an emotional burden. It weighed heaviest on me and my two other ASA fellows.
I had to act. I reduced my waste production drastically. I reuse containers. I say no to plastic bags. I locate proper spots for disposal. This helps lessen the stress.
There is an environmental program in my community. We conduct a clean-up activity every last Saturday of every month in our immediate surroundings. I always take part.
But I also accepted the systemic scale of the problem. I cannot fix it alone. I can only manage my own contribution. I can only manage my emotional response to it.
Transportation: Democratic chaos
This is arguably the starkest daily shock.
I gave up Germany’s seamless, integrated public transport network. Trams and trains kept to a regular beat there. Everything was predictable.
Now, I have a system of individual negotiation. The options are the democratic chaos of Tro Tro (shared minibus), taxi, or Pragya (Rickshaw).
I had to learn the routes. The fares. The shouts for any of the transport options. It is a daily education.
There are convenient but expensive ride-hailing apps like Bolt and Yango. I use them when I must. But mostly, I navigate the chaos.
Conclusion: From comparison to merging
The healing began when I stopped comparing. I started merging instead.
I apply my German discipline to my own projects. Restarting my small business in thrift, chats with my ASA stipendiary fellows Eli and Emmanuel. A schedule I maintain for myself and myself alone.
I am learning to safeguard my pockets of stillness. I wake each morning at dawn. I take in the quiet Beulah street before the heat and pressure of the day start.
Bit by bit, Cape Coast itself starts to become my therapy. The ocean teaches me to learn flexibility in the face of hardness. Everything seemed so familiar and, at the same time, so remotely far away, and I struggled to find my ground. It was the ocean that became my friend. I would sit on the shore and listen to the beat of the waves to calm my racing thoughts. The rhythm of the tide’s ebb and flow was like my own journey of release and return. It showed me that after the crashing wave comes the calm. In its enormity, I found a place to breathe, to think, and to slowly, gently, reconnect with home. The ocean did not take away the confusion but showed me how to come back, wave by wave.
Eli, Emmanuel and I spoke more about our experiences in Germany. It brought so much joy. Sharing our stories healed me so much. Now I am a better me. Not more German. Not less Ghanaian. Just more whole.
Text by Benedicta Ekua Arthur
Photos by Benedicta Ekua Arthur, Emmanuel Agyapong & Shakiratu Ibrahim
Photo of Communal Labour in Cape Coast by Municipal Assembly
You must be logged in to post a comment.