Last night when I ventured out in the pitch black to collect
my name bracelets from Koby’s mate, who should be waiting in the beer garden
for me than the Reggae muso with the bountiful dreadlocks?
In some cosmic coincidence, Kingdom (yes that’s his name)
just bumped into me! We walk together to the corner and who should we bump into
(another miracle!) but his musician friend Wonder Boy (yes, that’s his name!)
Actually I think the boys are calling and texting each other
with tip-offs as to my movements and ambush me, in a very nice way of course!
Another BFO (Blinding Flash of the Obvious) handsome young
Kingdom was not chatting me up for my voluptuous body after all! He sees in me
a potential UK promoter and publicist for their band!
If Kingdom is shy and mysterious, Wonder Boy is not reticent
in launching into the hard sell on his group of African drummers and dancers.
I’m intrigued and, after collecting my bracelets, the three of us wander back
to the beer garden for an impromptu business meeting.
The group of three drummers and two dancers (and sometimes
Wonder Boy’s sister also dances) is called African Dance Theatre. The talented
performers, who’ve been playing since childhood, are a sensation at festivals
and gigs up and down Cape Coast with shows that include dramatic fire tricks
and acrobatics. And the dynamic team also teach workshops in drumming, dancing
and singing to school students and adults.
Like musicians everywhere they yearn to be discovered and
get that elusive lucky break. The boys have been praying night and day for
years for someone to come along. And you guessed it! I am the answer to their
prayers, Heaven sent, direct delivery! Divine Appointment!
I am instantly hired as their International Manager and
adopted as Mummy yet again! My mind is racing with ideas. This unexpected
discovery, as an accidental talent scout, has triggered my latent fantasy of
being a promoter! My networking instinct kicks in, as I mentally list all the
people I know who could help the guys in a grand cross-cultural collaboration!
This is crazy and a little bit MAD, but Making A Difference
often means suspending common sense and going with the flow. I say goodnight to
the boys with a plan to meet them on the beach bright and early for a photo
shoot.
So here I am at 8 am in the beer garden, slightly
dumbstruck, with camera in hand and the boys show up, Kingdom and Wonder Boy
and three others; Antonio, Patrick and Joseph, all with stunning physiques,
dazzling smiles and heads exploding with thick black dreadlocks!
Just as planned, we hit the beach with the rising sun in
perfect position and the boys strut their stuff, performing with power and
passion for the camera. I effortlessly snap the most remarkably beautiful shots
and take some footage of the boys drumming, singing and dancing. It is an
enthralling spectacle that brings tourists and locals running to watch.
Our spontaneous photo shoot is surreal and could not be
better if carefully planned and stage-managed! These talented guys really are
naturals! They could take the world by storm!
Over a big breakfast, they enthuse about their dreams and
ambitions to extend beyond Ghana. I am fast getting caught up in their vision
of global success!
The excited boys tell me how the newly elected US President
Obama came to town in 2009 in the biggest event that’s even happened on the
Cape Coast; how everyone across Ghana converged, celebrating with parades and
festivals, how powerful jets blew the roofs off shacks, security soldiers
swarmed the streets and how Ghana’s President, the village Queen Mothers and
King Fathers and all the local chiefs laid on the pomp and ceremony and even
built a ‘palace’ for the glamorous couple to stay.
The euphoric celebrations I suspect were not so much
adulation for Barrack personally as rejoicing for the inspiring example that a
once-disadvantaged black man could rise to a position of greatness through “the
audacity of hope.”
All five smiling boys escort me along Obama Street, tracing
the famous route, embracing the spirit of possibility, as they direct me to the
depot and put me on a bus for Accra. I give them motherly hugs, heavy with a
serious sense of responsibility that I am now carrying the hopes and dreams of
these young performers.
I’m travelling on a big bus today, not a 15-seat tro tro,
but it’s just as cramped as the wide-shouldered man next to me is solid as a
rock and not giving an inch! I sit hunched for two and half hours and finally,
bone weary and scruffy, end up at the fancy, air-conditioned Paloma Hotel.
No prizes for guessing what comes next: the hot shower,
washing my hair, the lashings of skin cream and I’m civilised again. I spot a
veggie burger on the Room Service menu. How did I miss that last time?
Now I am coming down the earth, not so much crash landing,
as floating on a parachute, as I reflect on the whirlwind two days at Cape
Coast. Apparently I am now the Manager of the African Dance Theatre!
If you happen to be bored and stuck in a rut, might I
suggest a trip to Africa! Your life will never be dull again!
And what a Manager you make! Please get them to beat their drums over here in London!
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