If you had asked me 16 years ago, when I first came to Ghana, if I would ever return, let alone live here, I would’ve laughed. Standing at the bow of the ship at first sunlight as we pulled into the port in Takoradi as part of my Semester at Sea study abroad in 2010, I had no idea the future that lay ahead.

Fast forward to 2026, and it’s now been 3 years of living full time in a small, rural village in Ghana, West Africa. As with anywhere, it has its ups and downs, its positives and negatives. There are good days and bad days. There are days without electricity or water, and there are days with an abundance of nature at your doorstep.

Living here hasn’t come without it’s learning moments, and there are 3 things I’ve embraced after 3 years of living in Ghana.

‘Uncontrollable’ is a fact of life

So often, we work with undertones of trying to control things. It’s what we’re taught at early ages – if you can control your surroundings, you’re safe and secure. So it’s no wonder we as a human race try to control as much as possible (even if we don’t realize it)!

Here, uncontrollable is a fact of life. It’s the response that will make or break a person. So much can go “wrong,” whether a blown tire, wifi crashing, or an inconvenient rainstorm making roads impassable. If you let it, these quickly compound each other to create an unsustainable and ultimately exhausting mindset – the feeling of things being “out of control”.

Instead, embrace it as a fact of life. Flip the mindset. If we control our reaction, that’s still security, knowing that inconveniences, big or small, won’t throw us off course.

What has happened is done. What matters most is, now what?

The beauty is in the little things

There’s not much where I live. In this tiny village along the banks of the Volta River, somewhere near the town of Akosombo, a single dirt path bisects the area and a dilapidated road (to put it nicely) runs through. There are a few shops providing the essentials, a drinking spot, a data top-up stand, and Joyce, our trusted ‘fruit lady’. Everything has its purpose, and together, it creates a routine.

It can be boring if we let it. It’s a far cry from the comforts we’re used to, but as I sit here typing and reflecting, I can hear the symphony of bird calls in the trees outside my home. It can feel mind-numbing to live the same day, walk the same path, eat the same food, and greet the same people. But that has made it more important to pause and notice the little things.

Sit and listen to the sounds around, whether the football announcer across the river yelling into his microphone, the distant drumbeats from church services on Sundays, the fish jumping in the river, or the Harmattan winds rustling the leaves in the trees.

On the surface, this is a small and isolated community, one that’s so close yet so far–reaching, the next town by boat or a bumpy drive, neither of which is reliable. But there is so much more here, so many more layers than meet the eye. To truly embrace it means to slow down and see it for what it is.

When I’ve spent some time away out in the chaotic world, it feels good to come home to an environment where everything has its place and purpose.

We are nothing without each other

I’m sure if you ask my family and closest friends, they will confirm that I’m stubborn, independent, and introverted – obnoxiously so. It’s been an often uncomfortable and anxious journey to realize just how much I need the people around me to survive the day-to-day.

In my worst moments while living here, there is someone there to pick up the pieces. One late evening after making an airport run in Accra, I turned a corner, and my car dropped to the pavement. Yes, you read that right – dropped to the pavement. My front tire had fallen off and rolled away.

Before I could even comprehend what was happening, I was surrounded by a crowd of people asking for the car jack and spare, while another ran off into the darkness to go retrieve the runway tire. My own racing pitstop in the middle of the street.

Within thirty minutes, the new tire was filled, attached, and we were on our way. There was no expectation from my new friends other than to make sure we were ok. They witnessed an incident and acted out of a sense of humanity, not personal gain.

What I’ve come to learn in Ghana is that these people are everywhere. They are the moto drivers that sit on the corner that I drive by without a glance. The fruit vendors that line the streets make a few sales a day that no one greets. The farmers trekking to and from the busy markets.

So often people tell me that there’s not much in Accra and they can’t quite figure the place out. It’s become increasingly clear over the years that it’s because Ghana hasn’t reflected the high rises, luxury apartments, and fine dining. The essence of Ghana lives in the people.

It’s hard to believe it’s been 16 years of Aya and 3 years of living here full-time, but it’s an experience I’ll never be able to replace. Each day comes with new challenges and learning moments, and where this journey is leading to, I’m not sure. In the meantime, stop, pause, and notice something new.

Medase, thank you for supporting Aya in our mission to provide equitable access to quality education in rural Ghana!

– Chris