Page 87 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge
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OBRUNI IN GHANA 85
children jump and clap, singing traditional songs, or cluster around a small television set in a store window.
But there is no more time to remember now. They've cleared us for landing. I can see the patchwork quilt below expanding into a monopoly board of lights and toy houses. Five minutes until my transition solidifies. Whether I liked it one moment, or the next, I never actually had a choice. I’ve come home at last. Wish me luck.
