Playing With Colors ~ Part 2
When I told my mother about the tacky white dolls and showed her pictures of the toy shelves in two of the most prominent department stores, she was dismayed. She couldn't believe anyone thought it wise to sell them to an African market, and even worse that any Black mother and father could be moved to purchase them. I hadn't seen black dolls until this past February and they were priced ridiculously high. Due to rarity and import tax dolls that wouldn't even make it to the shelves in Target sold for about 80 Cedis which is roughly 30 USD, so even if a mother wanted to buy a black doll for her daughter the majority cannot afford to.
While I was completing my semester in Ghana, my mother and a colleague from work organized “All Dolled Up” A 'Doll-Raiser' to collect Black Dolls to be distributed in Ghana. I was initially blown away by the idea and the commitment the women of my city showed in supporting their children across the Diaspora. I wanted to do more, I had drafted a proposal for summer writing workshops and other empowerment ventures but doll distribution was so tangible and personal that I was surprised I had not thought of it before. In total close to 100 dolls were collected. My mother joined me in Ghana with a suitcase full of black dolls of all shapes and sizes, there were princesses and fairies, business women and cloth baby dolls. My mother and I also picked up an array of soccer balls to supplement the dolls and make sure young kings (and queens who did not want dolls) did not leave empty handed.
We set out on a Saturday morning with two “Ghana-must-Go” bags in the trunk of tax and road 2 hours outside of Kumasi to Senchi and Okaikrom, two villages located near Effiduase in the Ashanti region. Prince Kwame Owusu, a coordinator for my study abroad program accompanied us and helped guide us through the process. At both villages we followed custom, meeting with elders and queen mothers, pouring libation, stating our purpose. The presence of toys caused much excitement. I will admit to being hot and overwhelmed. Kwame's face lit up as he handed out the dolls, my mother remarked that he was almost more excited than I appeared. There was one doll I had grown fond of through the sorting and I was crushed to see her so quickly thrown to the ground when the little girl who received her saw another doll she preferred, but the happiness on the faces of the women and children of the community that quickly overshadowed my thoughts of the neglected doll.
When we arrived in Okaikrom, the village I had lived in, I went to find the girls who had kept me company during my two week stay. I got so caught up in my sentimental reunions that I delayed the actual doll distribution. My girls were so shocked to see the toys. They smiled and laughed and cheered. Their hands rose hesitantly towards mine when I presented them with their dolls. I had left the village in a fury of tears a mumbled goodbyes, many of them thought I would never return but here I was with my mother and bag full of toys that looked like something they had not had many chances to see, themselves.
After akpeteshie libations, hugs, and photos, a chorus of “God Bless You” sang us out of the village. The lump in my throat reminded me that I was again leaving home. When I looked out the window of the taxi I saw a girl, who was resistant to embrace me when I arrived, perhaps because she felt some sense of betrayal when I first left with the group. I was stunned at her dissent from the rallying of her peers around me and my mother, partly because I had come expecting the love I had felt those two weeks as a resident .Ego aside I had genuinely sought her out for a gift, but she didn’t receive it and as I saw her standing there wearing sadness where her sister wore joy, I was reminded that my work was not done. Sure, I had given toys and created some happiness but there was still a more than subtle disconnect between the dolls and their meaning.
The girls deserved a workshop. A productive space to affirm their beauty and self-worth. The dolls are symbolic of this but I did not have the time our means to fill the gap between symbolism and lived experience. But I will return, with more dolls time and resources. With the help of Ohemaa Writes and affiliated Sister-Queens, I hope to promote the holistic empowerment of Ghanaian girls in an academic and cultural context unbiased by Eurocentric standards.