For my mentors and former schoolmates, my earning a scholarship to study abroad was well-deserved due to what they describe as a dedication to academic excellence, experience and activism as both a student leader and a journalist. But for me, coming to West Virginia University from Ghana, West Africa, was an escape from threats to my life because of my profession.
I utilized the platforms I worked for during that time to report on issues like flooding, inadequate educational and road infrastructure, and the challenges faced by the disabled and underprivileged; however, it was a feature article I wrote, which was meant to bring attention to serial ritual killings in my hometown, that invited threats to my own life from anonymous contacts and caused unease for my family. These unnatural killings were not only shocking, but scary due to the frequency at which they happened and the ritual of mutiliation of various body parts. These bizarre events killed nightlife and forced a once bustling community to its early bed impacting economic activities at night.
I worked for one of the leading media outlets in Ghana, and the day my article was published, it went viral. Families of victims and many others who read it reached out to thank me for bringing these atrocities to national attention.
At first, my family supported the move, but as the article gained more attention, they grew concerned. ‘‘You don’t know these killers, but they know you and our family because your picture is in the article. Please stay out of it. They can send someone to find you where you are,” an aunt said to me over the phone.
My family feared that I was endangering not only myself, but also them. I panicked when my dad, who has always supported every step I took, said to me, “you should not have used your picture. The title of the article with your picture on it gets everyone worried when they come across the story.”
Despite my family’s warnings and concerns expressed over the issue, I acknowledged the risks of my profession, and I could not run away from it because I have declared war against these killers already. I needed to remind myself of why I wrote the article and the need to press on until some results were achieved. As a young African, I already embodied the Mountaineer spirit before I arrived at WVU. I held the belief that insecurity anywhere was insecurity everywhere, so I took it upon myself to fight for my people.
My posts and interviews with radio stations in Ghana’s Savannah Region positioned me in direct opposition to these unknown killers, and I knew I had to remain fearless. This sign of bravery, a legacy from my ancestor, Ndewura Jakpa Sulemana, a warrior who conquered vast lands in both ancient and modern Ghana.
I had already started a fight, and going back was not an option. I had inspired other like-minded individuals in and outside Bole to join the cause. Through our Facebook campaign with the hashtag #StopBoleKillingsNow, we made sure our voices were heard.
Our efforts paid off. Other stakeholders joined the call and scheduled for a peaceful demonstration. After almost a week of social media activism, the Ghana Police Service, for the first time, issued a statement on the issue and deployed intelligence officers to the community to protect lives and property. I felt fulfilled to have inspired a community to rise and seek the protection of its fundamental rights. If the country roads ever lead me home one day, I hope to return to my homeland. I pray that when I do, I’ll find my people safe and my community thriving once again.
I’ve always been a product of God’s mercy and the benevolence of many. Every step of my life, including my education, profession and leaving Ghana for WVU was supported by many, mostly strangers. I want to be a blessing to humanity in my own small way, too. So, I hope to support brilliant but underprivileged students in my community through the Biawurbi Cares Foundation, an NGO I plan to establish in the coming years.
From West Africa to Morgantown, West Virginia, felt like stepping into a different world, one filled with tranquility, new faces and experiences that would shape my journey as a graduate
student. Back home, I had heard stories about the quiet charm of small American towns, but nothing prepared me for the genuine warmth and peacefulness that has greeted me here. The peace that fills the air in Morgantown is a quiet embrace and the gentle, unhurried pace of this town was a welcome contrast from where I came from. Even the the town’s busiest corners seemed to hold onto a sense of calm that’s rare and quite nostalgic.
The most remarkable aspect of Morgantown is its people. Upon my arrival, my supervisor at WVU Magazine met me with lots of gifts each day of my day at work as a welcome gesture. These acts of kindness set the tone of the hospitality I will receive here. On campus, my colleagues and supervisors were eager to know more about me, my culture and the life I had left in Ghana. Conversations with colleagues at work and in school turned into curious stories over coffee, with laughter and genuine curiosity about each other’s lives. Everyone I meet has been willing to answer my questions and give me directions; even small acts like someone holding the door open with a friendly smile, remind me how welcoming this place was.
Adjusting to the food is one of the most interesting parts of my transition. Back home, my diet was rich with familiar flavors of jollof rice, fufu (a smooth, dough-like food made from pounded boiled yam or cassava and plantains), banku (made from fermented corn and cassava dough, cooked together to form a sticky sour dough eaten with soups, stews or pepper sauce), tuo zaafi (a commonly eaten dish in northern Ghana which is made from corn or millet flour cooked into a thick porridge) and spicy stews.
So, my first meal in Morgantown was, let’s say, a surprise from my boss at work. I had ordered
a simple burger with tomato soup. The flavors, however, were different and milder than what I am used to. I started trying different dishes at events and each dish has told a story of its own, helping me understand the American culture even more. For the weather, it's a story for another day.
The lifestyle here is refreshing and has taught me the beauty of balance. Back home, life sometimes felt like a race, with everyone always moving quickly and each day packed with obligations. Here, I am learning the importance of taking moments to enjoy life. WVU and Morgantown have become places where my West African roots blend with a new American home. As I walk through this town, each step is both a reminder of where I came from and a promise of the journey that lies ahead.
Zakariah Issah is the Graduate Service Assistant for WVU Magazine.
