Lately, i have felt a restlessness in my spirit. Don't get me wrong. My spirit is fed just by being here. By being useful, by being surrounded by family, surrounded by the love, surrounded by my Father God. But still, I can not be still. I am restless inside.I haven't quite put my finger on it yet, but i sense that a lot has to do with what the Abba Father desires to do with my heart. An answer in of itself to prayers asked.

Before I came to Ghana, I was well aware of the nature of work i had chosen to do. I knew it will affect me. S-P-I-R-I-T-U-A-L-LY. I prayed for strength to endure, heart eyes to see, the capacity to love, to help heal and for protection from the forces that i know abound to thwart the work of the Good seeking to triumph over evil. I prayed and I requested that I be prayed for. I was moved to be baptized and to publicly commit myself to allowing my Creator to transform the wretched, helpless and weak human that I am to what, in His love, He sees me to be. I prayed that He will go from being my Savior to becoming My lord and My love. I knew that without Him, I would be ineffective. Yes, i would come, gather data, analyze, write up a pretty darn good thesis and probably even present at an international conference or two. But this was not my intention. I was not without a Cause and I desired to be an instrument of Grace. Without being a vessel i would be nothing more than an empty barrel.. and here we have a saying "empty barrels make the most noise".

Before i took flight from the cold Canadian winter, I was frightened. On a multitude of levels, for a multitude of reasons. I saw the desire of the Abba to radically change my life and direction. I knew instinctively that this would hurt and as he started the process, hurt it did. But in order for him to form out of nothing, something, i needed to be willing to be unnaturally spiritually malleable. I was conscious of this, but you know and then you KNOW.. know what i mean? I had to count my everything as loss, in order to gain the Christ, and it hurt. But with the Abba's help and loving presence, count i did.

And now here I am, sitting on my bed at 4 a.m., listening to the cock crowing and the sounds of the ever present waves crashing on the shores of Osu-La Beach. Today is the day of the first full solar eclipse in eons (countdown 5 hours and 16 minutes ) and its no surprise that i cant sleep as i now ponder my spiritual journey thus far.

Yesterday, i was privileged (in a different way than my last entry), to be allowed into yet another world. This time it was the world of young female sex workers who willingly shared with me the heart-wrenching stories that have come to characterize their life's journeys. I can still hear their barely audible voices in my head, as i was led through lives filled with loss, pain and suffering. In no uncertain terms i learned through first hand accounts, the "short and long-term impact of childhood sexual abuse on individual health and the health of the community". Believe me when i tell you that each one of the stories i was privileged to hear, would break the coldest human heart.

Se-lah (not her real name), a 20 year old dark quintessential African beauty of mixed Malian and Ghanaian heritage, hugged a teddy bear as she recounted to me, her repeated experiences with "forced sex" which began at the tender age of 12. Unable to look me in the eye she stared out towards the ocean as she told me of how it came to be that she now lives a waking nightmare. My heart broke and broke and broke for her heart, which i could see and hear was broken. Had been broken. Over and over and over again. I marveled at her resiliency. Here she was standing tall, still able to dream of a better live and fighting, fighting to the breath, to keep the dream alive.

Crucify me if you must, but i couldn't help but ask my Loving Abba; Why? Why is this story repeated more times and in more places, than the grains of sand on this beach which i stand? For every bear hugging Se-lah, there are millions more whose stories remain untold. Millions whose hearts remain heavy and burdened. Millions whose Voices will NEVER be heard.

Being the well-trained qualitative researcher that i am, i turned to Se-lah and asked her the question on my mind. Why Se-lah do you think this happens?? She replied " Hmmm, I think its because the men, they see us and they think we have no value".
I repeat this question to all the other girls..
Esther's (not her real name) response: " Because omu pese omu be see ye life- because they want to ruin our lives.
Elizabeth's response: " Ebia omua ti se ye wo tooknown ntia- maybe because they feel like we are too big for our britches.." and so it went.. on and on with the other girls i spoke to. The details different, but the stories and reasons given, essentially the same.

It was then that i came to this realization. There is a conspiracy. A conspiracy to keep this world shrouded in darkness. A conspiracy to break the human spirit. A conspiracy to break the heart of God. To take the children (suffer little children to come onto me) his most precious ones, and beat the godly spirit out of them...leaving them lifeless and hopeless grrrrrr...
At that moment as if to interrupt the darkness of my thoughts with some much needed light, Se-lah laughs and it is literally music to my ears. I turn and see see the twinkle in her eyes. Her hidden child takes over and in that brief instance she lights up my world!! Ahhhhhhh!!! There is yet hope. In this dark dark dark place, there is yet hope. The eyes of my heart sees this and i know that he laugh is ordained by the Abba, to encourage her spirit and show me that there is yet hope.

But oh, how his heart must break.

Imagine you believed in a God. Imagine that you ascribe to him as having created all things. Imagine we humans are created in the likeness of this God. Imagine then, how finely tuned this Supreme Being's perceptions must be.. afterall it was through him/she/it that we came to be able to perceive our world. If i can smell a pretty flower and delight in its sight and scent with my limited ability, Imagine how heightened his experience of that same flower must be? In my mind's eye, i see sensory organs bursting into song!! Exquisitely delighted by the individual molecules stimulating every available receptor causing the mind and senses to erupt in rapturous joy at the feeling inherent in the sensory knowledge of a simple flower.. Yes! indeed!

Now imagine how a Being present in this heightened state of awareness must feel at the sight and thought of darling Se-lah and her friends all over the world. Imagine the pain, the outrage, the sadness, the heart-break, at witnessing on a global scale, the repeated mutilation of the child-spirit.. Yes, it is too big for my imagination too.

It is thoughts like these that find home in my mind and heart. So now, i guess you see somewhat the reason my spirit is so restless. Abba Father, Why? It is only natural that i return to this question... I hear no voices, no great thunderous revelations but i know that for every question like this there is an answer. My Faith in his goodness and love assures me that there is a reason. A pretty darn good one too. And because I believe I leave this question at his altar and turn my mind to the bigger and more relevant question for me, Abba Father how? How precious Daddy, do you choose to use to me in this? To reflect some of your light into this darkness? Please show me how. Please.

My spirit is restless and wants to know how and with what. It yearns to be equipped with the tools, the know-how and the Godly love necessary to work with you as you heal your children, one by one. Maybe the answer to this is simple and right under my nose. Too simple for my over-analytical mind and over-intellectualized heart to see. I am here ready, willing and through you, able. And if it is true that the answer is here, right under my very nose, then this i pray; Strip me of my barnacles and my veils. Strip me, so that i then can see, listen and in your Grace and Love, Do.

Wow! What am i doing here?! Even better question, how did i get here? I mean, who actually let little 'ole me in here??? No, not into Ghana, silly, despite my Ghanaian heritage i paid the 80$ visa for that. I mean into this meeting of "key community stake-holders" strategizing on how to initiate a holistic sectorial response to the challenges of child protection in Ghana. No doubt about it, I have a huge interest, one might even call it a strong passion, for the topic under discussion, child protection.... those who know me know that at every available opportunity (sometimes even the inopportune ones) i actively advocate for the rights of a child; especially his/her right to be heard.

Hmmm.... I guess thats how i slipped through the door into this air-conditioned room in the luxurious Labadi beach hotel along the aforementioned beach road. Thats how come I find myself with an invitation from the Ministry of Women and Children's Affairs (MOWAC) to take part in this laudable initiative. Well, i will just sit here quietly and listen. Truth be told I am slightly intimidated by the bigwigs sitting at this here table. So i will just sit here quietly and listen. Besides, I haven't been in Ghana for 8 long years and even though it didn't take long at all for me to get into the swing of things and to get my Ghanaian accent back in full effect, my mother tells me that one doesn't have to listen too close to hear the traces of Canada in my voice. So I, the self-appointed paladin of the voiceless will keep quiet. Yes, I will keep quite and listen.

Listen to my elders share their experiences, knowledge and wisdom. Listen as they devise detailed, extensive, sustainable strategies to deal with the MANIFOLD challenges that confront child protection efforts in Ghana. Given the cross-cutting nature of this issue, it is no wonder the diversity of the folks and sectors represented here today. On the "high table" we have of course the big money people with the big government people. UNICEF and the Deputy Minister for MOWAC. Not to be left out are the other big International Shakers in child welfare and protection; ILO, IOM, UNFPA and UNESCO. Then we have the civil society groups, the other . Governmental organizations and the highly impassioned NGO's; First there is the dedicated but severly underfunded Department of Social Welfare, The Attorney Generals Office, The Domestic Violence and Victim Support unit , Ministry of health, Ministry of Education, Police services, Birth Registrations, Immigration, National Children's Commission, NGO Coalition on the Rights of a child, The Ghana AIDS Commisssion.... many other like minded organizations ....and lil ole me!

Don't get me wrong, I am not in this room because i don't have anything to contribute and I like to sit and watch grown ups discuss children's issues. Far from it. My research interests aside, i am also spearheading a newly formed not-for-profit organization, Voices of the Voiceless, that seeks amongst other things to advocate the inclusion of the Voices of Children in discussions of this very nature. Given this, i don't know how long i can be true to my socializition and act like the "respectful" (a term used very loosely here), friendly, QUIET child that my mother tried so very very hard to raise me to be.. though truth be told i suspect she was secretly pleased when i spoke up growing up, heck sometimes she even facilitated it!.. but i digress.. I really dont know how long i can sit at this table without contributing to this discussion. Whoa, hold on a minute, Now the conversation has switched to an animated discussion on "the interests of the child".

What are the interests of the children? Heck back track even, Why are we here in the first place? What is Child Protection? What issues should be broupgh under this expansive umbrella, bearing in mind that we are here to adopt a more holistic and cohesive approach to this fragmented issue..

I clear my throat and mentally release my conscious hold on my tongue...."Ummm, Excuse me", I say in my best Ghanaian accent. "If i may be so bold as to suggest something. If I may be allowed to humbly add my two cents, I think that we stand to do ourselves, our institutions and most importantly our children a huge disservice by sitting in this room, far removed from the child we seek to protect, deciding like we experience their day-to day realities in todays world, what is really in their best interests. We barely even have any "data" to work with!!!!!. I am afraid that by virtue of the fact that there is NO Child at this table we are reinforcing the evil that we all rightly condemn, even going so far as to unconsciously( i hope) restrict them from exercising their rights enshrined in the International Convention on the Rights of a Child. Specifically Article 12 which states "Parties shall assure to the child who is capable of forming his or her own views the right to express those views freely in all matters affecting the child, the views of the child being given due weight in accordance with the age and maturity of the child" and Article 13 "The child shall have the right to freedom of expression; this right shall include freedom to seek, receive and impart information and ideas of all kinds, regardless of frontiers, either orally, in writing or in print, in the form of art, or through any other media of the child's choice". We must allow them to exercise these rights especially at this forum as their emic perspective will provide us with a more comprehensive and detailed picture of the issues they face.

If i may be even bolder to suggest further, the advantages of doing this far outweighs the disadvantages. It is no secret that Ghana was proudly the first country to ratify this convention which shows her unabashed support and concern for children. Please. Let us not work against ourselves by making policy decisions without giving them a seat at the table. Granted we are all from organizations that sincerely have "the best interests of the child" at heart and work tirelessly on a daily basis to ensure that our children are provided with the best possible nurturing environment for their development into responsible citizens. If i may humbly suggest, it is this core value we all believe in and work towards that should prompt us to consider their inclusion and indeed their right to be here and add their voices to this conversation; not by proxy but by self.. This, my elders, is my humble two cents... "

After i finish my little impassioned yet controlled and respectful "outburst" i retreat back into my head and am confronted with the question once again. What exactly am i doing here? I remember now! I am here to advocate that my seat be given to the child.

its 6 a.m, monday morning and i am sitting here at my computer sweating! i just run along the beach road, on the world map this is the ghanaian section of the west african coast along the gulf of guinea. It is a very busy road even at 5 in the am. They say here that Osu, my hood, never sleeps. Its true. But if Osu never sleeps, me thinks it is becasuse folks travelling across the country and indeed across the sub-region along said beach road, like to stop and hang out in the hood. That plus the fact that Osu just never sleeps ! ;-)

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. Maybe its cos i am 6 deep into my research, but i've been thinking. About this continent, about development, socialization, HIV/AIDS, the girl-child, the boy-child, Foreign Aid, the Domestic Vioelnce bill still sitting in parliment, democracy... the whole gamut. I love it here. At the risk of sounding corny, i feel an almost visceral connection to this place. Its like a lil' girl who has got you wrapped around her lil' finger so tighlty you find yourself doing everything in your power for her to be safe, to feel loved, to be nurtured and heard, to make sure she grows into the strong,multi-dimensional dazzling woman you see ever so clearly in her twinkling, trusting, laughing eyes. I feel the same way about this place. I want to protect the land, the people, the animals( and yes we still have 'em), its reputation, its future..True to my Mandigo warrior tribe roots, I want to fight fiercely with all i have got for the independence of our continent, its growth, its maturity, its peace. I see this place in its stark, startling, breath halting beauty and I swear my hearts sings. if you were here you'd love it too... and be viscerally angered by what is clearly, the continous raping and pillaging that continues to exist despite our years old "liberation" from our colonizers. This raping of the people. Your people. My people. In the same breath, almost at the same instance, you would be proud to see the strides made in spite of this, proud to hear the voices of the so called down trodden booming out loud, singing their way through their sorrows. In my eyes, seemingly smiling cheekily at the devil, daring him to come out and play in the scorching hot African sun.

It is indeed a place of great juxtapositions. Where a man in a million dollar suit, wearing Italian made shoes can be found squatting on the streetside eating food fried in a coalpot with his fingers and smacking his lips cos it tastes so DARN good. Its a place where one finds mud huts amidst first class roads and high tech hospitals. Where church and vodoo knows no distinction; Where English, Twi, Ga and Fanti are spoken all in the same sentence like it was one language.

Yea, over here, we exist in a world unto itself. A world where people ARE surviving on less than a dollar a day and yet dying because centuries old rivers are bearing the hallmark of new world development. Choked with refuse, sewage and depleted of its life giving force, old man river is killing instead of feeding. A world where the difference between life and death for some is the bite of a tiny female anopheles mosquito. And yet in this very same world are endless possibilites unmatched even by those in the great U S of A, the famed land of opportunity. In Africa we boast of natural resources beyond the wild west's wildest dreams. Human capital that rivals that of china and Determination, sheer naked, get the f**k out of my way determination, that literally leaks out of the pores of the masses.

I have heard it said before that we are a pessimistic people. I beg to differ. Over here survival is by sheer force of will. The rich man in his mansion got there by as much force of will as the kenkey seller at labone junction. Circumstances alone separate them. So here, to honor of the god within us all, we call each other boss. The driver calls his employee boss, the millionaire calls the cigarette seller boss. We see that in each other. Applaud it in each other. encourage it in each other.

Like i said i have been thinking. and talking. to a lot of people. After all that is really why i am here, to talk to people. In research its called data analysis. I like to call it engaging the masses, specifically on the topic of childhood sexual abuse. It pains me to see that despite the invisible cords that causes us to fight and die for each other we have also perfected the art of hurting one another. It pains me to realize that our highly prized culture and our socialization processes puts the most vulnerable in our society at risk.. for anything and everything. In this case at risk for sexual abuse. Sadly, the naked truth is this : The socialization of children reinforces gender and power inequalities inherent in our society. Cultural norms of child acquiescence to adult instruction inform this socialization process. The much lauded "it takes a village to raise a child" adage and its coresponding reality leaves our children vulnerable. This is further compounded by the taboo that says we dont talk about sex with our children (i say we dont have sex with our children).. Result? The child esp. the girl-child is rendered vulnerable to sexual abuse....

Something else been bugging me... Ghana doesnt have a high incidence of HIV/AIDS. A VERY GOOD THING. It is less than 7 % and laudable strides are being made to educate the masses to reduce the rate of new infections. However, how is that at a rally for sexual abuse we are still tooting the "abstinence" party line? How can we ask our children to abstain from sex when 1 out of 3 of them are subject to non-consensual sex at least once in thier lifetime, often at their first sexual experience? The inherent irony of this never fails to grate on my nerves and churn my insides. People i've been talking on this issue advocate sex and rights education, as well as a community-wide examination of the socialization process of Ghanaian children. Dont get it twisted, we love our culture. But, we also realize that somethings have to change. Because today we live in a very different world from yesterday. The consolation (if you can call it that) is this: Socialization is dynamic and so potentially reversible. This is what gives us hope. As the Ga proverb goes "Fio fio adedon fee ni eke ye gbee tue" loosely translated; consistently nibbling, the fly ate the dog's ear.

This Morning at 5 a.m. i woke up before my alarm. I was excited. These days i am too excited to really sleep ;-) I had a run date. I have been running twice a week in the morning since i got here. Today my very good friend was running with me. I put on my gear, plugged in my ipod, turned it to my favorite new song, Africa Unite by none other than my lil' brother and got to running. In 20 minutes i was at the meeting point and from there we ran down the Ringway, the Accra equivalent of Yonge street. A runners Paradise. As you feet hit the pavement in rhythmic bliss you can feel the breeze coming off the ocean just behind you. If you ever needed incentive to run, this is it. You keep on without a care in the world, and if anyone dared to look close enough they would probably see you smiling. I definitely was.

You can say i live in the city. Osu is the heart of Accra, at least i like to think so. We call the major Osu strip Oxford street, a well deserved name i might add. All the major stores have offices on this strip and there is a whole whack of fast food joints, restaurants and shops on our oxford street. Back in the day, all the hot clubs were in this district too. Yea, Osu, my 'hood. ;-)

After running down the Ringway, we turn into Labone, what used to be one of the posh-est residential area; run past morning star an equally posh primary school into the very new estates. Labone, referred to as L.A. Bone by the very thug conscious Ghanaian youth is now home to the new and hottest educational facility in town, Asheshi University. Its a four year college with an organizational and academic structure just like the North American Colleges. It just graduated it's first set of students and everyone is convinced that it is the beginning of an Ivy League culture here in Accra.

We continue running. We go past G's house, CIDA's offices, Ashiatey's crib, L. A. Bone secondary School, Hinlone restaurant and finally turn into my friends neighborhood.

Accra sure is beautiful in the wee hours of the morning. The sounds of an Accra morning are extremely distinct even to my rusty ears. I can hear the Hausa coco sellers plying their wares, house helps sweeping the yards, see drivers washing their cars, runners like me panting but keeping on, folks bike riding furiously to where i can only imagine and and street hawkers getting ready for another day in the hustle. As we say over here, God bless our homeland Ghana, indeed.

After a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, i get a ride back home. AJ, my nephew, hears me ring the bell at the gate and meets me at the front door. He was drinking his Milo, chasing last night sleep away by vigorously rubbing his eyes with a half smile on his face... "hahaha AJ, i woke up before you" i laugh at him, he smiles that wicked grin that lets me know he is well aware that i went out without him, and walks into the kitchen. A few minutes later, i understand the smile; He has been in my room and hidden my keys and cell phone. I wouldn't have expected less from a 3 year old child who can read upside down, work just about any gadget he touches and insists on listening to his radio program in the morning.

I get him ready for school, lakaa ( Ga for butter him up) him a bit with a chocolate bar, which he promptly pockets "to share with his friends at school" , retrieve my keys and phone form their hiding place and leave the house to drop him off with my mother's driver ( she refuses to let me drive). After i drop AJ off, who barely looks at me as he waves good bye and clutches the hand off a younger crying friend to lead him to class, i make my way to my yoga class...

At Pippa's ( my gym) i lay down on my yoga mat, take a deep breathe and coax myself into a blissful state of relaxation which by the way isnt hard to do. I know my day is going to be packed with meetings and more meetings and i intend on being ready and alert for them.