Page 13 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge

OBRUNI IN GHANA 11
“Kukuwa? Wo fre Kukuwa?” I grow weary of the game quickly, having played it dozens of times since I arrived in this country.
Fortunately, my friend provides me with a distraction. He has been telling his family that I have a wonderful singing voice and now everyone is clamoring for a selection. Blushing, I try to think of something that won’t offend them. Most people in this area are devoutly Christian with adamant political and social opinions on a range of thus far uncomfortable topics for me. So I am wary of the 1970’s hippie protest song repertoire that served as my childhood vocal education.
The best I can come up with is “Amazing Grace”. I pick a key and launch into it, all out. I only know the first verse, but they make me sing it again and again. Laughing and clapping, they sing with me in a joyful, off-tune way. Someone drags drums up from the back of the garage. My friend and his elder brother start up a lively syncopation. I do a small version of some American dancing from my seat; the laughter is louder yet, as the 6-yr-old