Published by Mavrik, 20o6, 288 pages

One way to really know a country is through its people. Alba Kunadu Sumprim’s parents are Ghanaian, but she was born and raised in London. She had decided to move back to Ghana, thinking that as a Ghanaian, she would fit into the way of life. But it’s never really that simple.

Sumprim in Ghana is an insider but also an outsider, as anyone who returns to country of origin after having lived away will find. You understand the culture but you can also see it from the perspective of an outsider. This gives a unique glimpse into a country.

This book grew from a column she wrote for The Daily Dispatch in Accra, after she shared her stories about living in Ghana with a friend who insisted she wrote them down. The book is satirical, laugh-out funny in parts and full of an exasperated affection for her country and its people—and illustrated with cartoons drawn by the author.

One of the things that exasperates her is that many Ghanaians refuse to believe that she is from the country, insisting she is Senegalese, Malian, Ivoirian, Liberian, Zimbabwean—anything but Ghanaian. Two waiters spend a long time trying to persuade her she’s from another African country. Why?, she asks. Because she doesn’t look Ghanaian. What do Ghanaian women look like? They don’t wear her hair like her, her skin colour is different—maybe she is Senegalese?—and her accent is different (well, yes, she grew up in the UK).

She has a wicked streak that I warmed to. She goes with a friend to a restaurant to eat her favourite food, ampesi and palaver sauce (boiled yam and plantain with spinach stew) with tuna and boiled egg.  She finds the last plate has been taken—by the gentleman at the next table. Seeing her disappointment, he asks her to join him. “You’re invited”, he beams. Sumprim immediately hands the waitress a plate for her to collect half the man’s food. Everyone freezes in shock. “You’re invited” is merely a politesse—it is not supposed to be taken seriously. What you are supposed to do is say “thank you”, smile, and move on. Sumprim was perfectly aware of this when she held out her plate.

There are several things she writes about that sound familiar—I’ve come across these attitudes in India. I guess people aren’t that different, after all! Some of the stories of annoying men who don’t understand the meaning of “no” will be familiar to women across the globe.

This is a fun book, perfect for dipping into. And I love the image at the beginning of the book—it’s a stylized drawing of a crocodile, a symbol of adaptability, which is what helps Ghanaians get through life. “It encourages us to adapt to changing conditions, particularly those which appear difficult and out of our control.” Again, a universal thought.

This review first appeared on Women on the Road.