My mother always complains about how younger generations (read: Millennials - myself included) are so obsessed with Facebook albums, lengthy Instagram feeds and Flickr accounts that we forget to appreciate tangible photos. The kind that one retrieves from the photo shop once the dial on the disposable camera is all wound out. The kind that one digs out during seasonal period for all of the family to pore over. I recently made a large order of hard copy photographs, and spent most of my evening flicking through them with my mum - laughing at poses and furrowing brows trying to re-piece the names of people and places looking back at us.
Today marked the 57th anniversary of Ghana's independence. I recognise and treasure the significance of this day, although the hefty gap since my last visit to my country of origin may suggest otherwise to the outsider looking in. I have translucent memories of my time there, but somehow I know that the spirit of my home from home manifests itself within me, somewhere between my Debussy repertoire and unabashed love for British hymns.
It is so important to remember the past; whether positive or negative, I believe that all things of the past have the capability of explaining our present. 57 years ago today, Ghana officially became the first African country to become independent from colonial rule. My only hope is that I can look up from the gadgets and apps, and take the time to reflect conscientiously what is most definitely an invaluable fragment of my own cultural past.