Theme: FUCK BUDDIES

25.04.2021

I haven’t had sex in 2 months and it’s getting to me.

Having great sex here in Ghana will be poignant for me I feel.

I haven’t quite arrived until I have.

I feel.

But curiously, I haven’t fancied anyone yet.

I’ve had a lot of interest, I’m the new flavour in town, a white girl, so it’s obvious.

Lol, the other night I watched a funny movie on TNT Africa.

“Undercover Brother”

Austin Powers in black.

There was a scene where a white agent (Denise Richards) defected. And all the black brothers were fantasising about her.

Apparently it’s a thing.

A black obsession.

And I’m refusing to give into that.

I’m not a thing.

And as I said I haven’t fancied anyone.

The black Ghana dude aesthetics on Instagram is delicious, however, the reality is somewhat different.

Like all reality.

And I am also not used to the aesthetics, being a white girl.

Ghana guys are all short for one thing.

Which doesn’t make most very manly.

But they are not feminine either because their bodies are tight.

Dense.

Muscular in an anatomical study way.

Quite a few (the well off ones) unfortunately have potbellies due to rich food and not enough ‘hard labour’ aka exercise.

Like the Major I mentioned in one of my earlier posts.

We went for a date.

But he’s cute and a good kisser.

Jovial and sorted.

I like him a lot.

But he is married.

Hmmm …

But he’s a high ranking officer and could be very handy if I ever need a reference.

In Ghana it’s all about who you know.

There is only one guy I really fancy but he is one of my brothers’ childhood friends.

So this is not good.

He is sexy and intelligent and we hung out on the beach the other day, discussing the divine power of humanity and being in the moment.

Woke.

He would be a perfect guy to loose my Africa virginity to but I don’t think it will go down very well.

My brother’s are cool but I also might loose them over this.

I dunno.

Maybe not.

Also, they are all connected and amongst the group of them, they will talk.

I’m sure of it.

Should I ask my brothers for permission?

Is that something to do?

Not sure.

What is better: your sister to have sex with someone you know or with someone you don’t know?

Is ignorance or transparency bliss?

I wonder.

I want him.

So whatever happens will be the right thing to happen.

He is so hot.

We were singing along to a Tracy Chapman song together the other day in the car ffs.

Not Fast Car, the other one.

And he is not married.

And a good kisser.

Damn.

I don’t want a boyfriend.

I want a FWB.

Perpetually being on a third date.

Absolute freedom to do whatever I want to do with beautiful intense moments of deeply connecting to male energy.

It will unlock my true potential.

I know it.

Speaking of …

I joined my stepmom to church this morning.

And as I sat there, the pastor was talking about the ‘Father’s House’ and security.

And I started crying.

I realised the violent episode with my dad two nights ago had shaken me more than I thought.

It’s interesting that my dad built a big wall around the house and we have a guard dog in order to keep us safe but his crazy physical anger explosions are danger from within.

Although he apologised, I feel uneasy because his outburst came totally out of the blue so it might happen again.

Any time.

Any place.

But I don’t want to live in fear around him.

Fear of the potential of the next anger explosion.

No walking on eggshells.

It would be emotionally unsustainable.

So this morning I was actually really worried.

I had thought that by connecting to my dad, I would find true safety.

Having been brought up without a dad has had consequences.

Safety issues I explained in my earlier diary entries.

I thought that being with my dad means no harm would come to me while he’s there.

It never occurred to me that he could represent the very harm I was seeking protection from.

I trusted him and that trust was betrayed.

However, this morning’s sermon was on pointe:

It reminded me that I’m always protected, father or not father.

Because of the Father.

Overarching and powerful.

Nothing can touch me.

I’m not a particularly religious person.

Just some remnants from my upbringing.

But it makes sense.

A sense of peace.

At ease.

So I completely let go of fear.

Relief.

Went to the beach again today.

And bumped into a guy I was hanging out in Asseke with the other night.

Black Cedis.

He’s cute.

And switched on.

He was the one who bought me juice.

(Coincidences don’t exist)

And I was really happy to see him.

So we chatted.

And I also randomly bumped into a guy who happens to work in Immigrations and who offered to help me.

He said we met before.

When I arrived in Takoradi, he said.

Yeh, right, whatever.

But then I am literally the only ‘white’ girl I have seen since I arrived in Takoradi, so it could very well be he remembered me.

I am obvious.

Things are clicking into place.

Have been talking for about a week to everyone about finding ways to stay in Ghana.

And this guy shows up.

Asked my mum if she would call immigration for me and talk to someone about what steps in need to take and what kind of documentation.

She said she didn’t have any credit on her phone, so things stopped there.

(Things to do: get a Ghana phone to make calls from)

And tonight when I returned home from the beach and I told her about that I met this guy who could help me, suddenly she was a wealth of information.

Said one of my brothers knows people in immigration.

Said that one of the members of her church works in immigration too we could chat to.

Crazy.

I wonder …

Is it a thing here to state a wish/need and if there is no answer or progress to just pretend to walk away or say that you found someone else to help you out and the initial person will jump into gear?

Is it connected to the inherent cultural ‘haggle at the market’ vibe?

Pretending you don’t need that person and they jump to make sure you do the deal with them?

I have a feeling that that’s the case.

My step mom suggested that processing any kind of legal document takes ages here in Ghana and that my remaining 6 weeks will not be enough.

I don’t want to get into a situation where I need to leave but can’t because my passport is lost in the system.

I was so convinced that I would make it work to stay because I know it’s where I need_want to be, so the first moment she told me that, I was disappointed.

But then the thought of seeing my best friends again back in Amsterdam and maybe visiting my daughter in the UK before heading out here again, was actually very nice to think.

Maybe it’s the same.

Ha, maybe I need to play hard to get with Ghana, too?

Pretending to walk away and then come back into her open arms?

Ha, that would indeed be interesting.

Any official application process here can be sped up if you throw enough money at it.

Pay an overprice.

But I refuse to.

Ghana, if you want me, then show me some love.

I’m happy to stay but equally happy to walk away.

I want Ghana price, not tourist price.

I know my value.

So make love to me.

I know I will.

Make love.

To you.

And you will not know what hit you.