Heaven On Earth

“Far across the Atlantic ocean lies a land filled with riches beyond your wildest imagination. People believe it to be the second heaven. Heaven on earth is what they call it. The buildings are made out of glass that glitters like a thousand suns. The streets are made of gold and the air as clear as crystals. The waters are as sweet as milk and honey. The rivers are as pure a young virgin. It holds all manner of lights that could make a blind man see and blind him a second time.”
These were the words of the town’s tale bearer Akim as all the children gathered around him during the many black out night to listen. Electricity was not dependable in Ghana. Black-outs are not uncommon and five black-outs a day is not an exaggeration. Listening to Akim was like sleeping to sweet fairy tale stories only that there was hope of living this fairy tale.
Akim continued “some have sworn that, even if their feet could just touch the soil of this land then death is allowed to whisk them away because they have seen an honorable sight.” Akim had never been to this land but knows everything about it. He was the go to person if you need to know anything about the United States. He claimed to have many of relatives as residents of this land. He often showed us post cards and gadgets sent to him from them. The post cards were true testimonies of the lights that run across this great nation. It was as though long ropes of lights run across the floor of every block, street and avenue. Of course, as an electricity and technology deprived people, we were quickly moved by our sight.

Perhaps Akim was not the only news bearer as this was the hottest topic for many citizens of my country Ghana. Day and night you would come across many people like Akim. They were fathers, mother, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles friends etc. They would find time to tell you everything they knew about this land.
It was like a contagious disease that everyone was catching. It was everyone’s hopes, dream, aspiration and ambition.
My uncle once told me, “Nothing ever stinks there.” He came closer and asked me, “You know why?”
In astonishment I said, “No uncle, tell me why it never stinks there?”
He answered, “Because every day helicopters fly across the air and spray into the atmosphere expensive perfumes so that nothing could smell.” I was amazed so I asked, “Not even shit stinks uncle?”
He said, “no, not even shit.” At this point I bursted into laughter, “I don’t believe you,” I said.
***
It is said that the grass is not always greener on the other side, but I say experience is the best teacher. It is better that I tasted of its glory for myself, so I prayed and longed for my family and I to be blessed with the opportunity to be in that land. I will never forget the words of my father as he waved goodbye “I will come back for you.” Oh boy did I wait for it; it was like counting the stars. There was never an end. In due season my dream came into existence. I was prepared to be blown away as I boarded the airplane for the first time to the great land called America.
The cold wind swooshed across my face and blew me off my feet as I stepped out into the cold autumn morning of November 23,2003. It was nothing like my imaginations. The stories were severe exaggeration of the real thing. It's like making a murderer look like God. Well, I was speechless and it seem like brightness of the morning was just making things worse. It was echoing the nightmare of my reality. I saw everything clearly: dirt look like dirt, roaches like roaches, shit like shit. Nothing was polished. It was like staring death in the face.
Yes, some buildings were made out of glass, but there was nothing glittering about them. At least not on Valentine Avenue in the Bronx where I resided. The waters were no virgins but they were not as bad as the waters in Ghana. The waters in Ghana were as dirty as a prostitute but the waters in America were more like whores. My father’s apartment building was like a mouse trap and it smelled like a dead rat. The one bedroom space my father called a home was like a pathetic joke. It was good for only ten steps.
It was a fancy thing to able to say that you Dad lived in the United States. I remembered the countless days I bragged to my classmates about my Dad living in the United States. I imagined and told that that he lived in tall building all by himself and I just could not wait experience how it feels to lie in a jacuzzi. I would acquire both friends and enemies just by giving elaborate description of my imagined condition of dad’s living. Recalling these moments grieved me because my dad worked as a home health aid twelve hours a day seven days a week. He was always on the get go. He left home at 6am and came back at 10pm. Despite all this hard work, he could only afford a one bedroom for my brother, sister and I. We were all truly disappointed.
Now the grass was looking greener on the side I had just left. Our house in Ghana finally looks like the mansion that it is. I missed my big bedroom with my custom made king size bed. I missed the food. Sadly, I actually missed the blackout night when we would gather listen to Akim. I wished it stayed that way, sweet stories.
Within hours in my fairytale land I was home sick. I told my dad “I want to go back, take me back. They were all lies.”
My dad said, “Not entirely, this is just the worse part. I will take you to Times Square, and your will see heaven.”
I hate to say it, but my dad was right. Times Square at night time was the closest thing to the stories I heard and post cards I had seen. It was truly beautiful. I was like a child at the circus. My neck was tired of supporting my head to behold this remarkable sight. But I still couldn’t stop looking up. Yes, the buildings were mountains high and there was light everywhere. It’s not like a thousand suns but it’s close. It was like there were TV screens everywhere. Akim forgot to mention that. I was finally blown away by the billboard and motion picture. That is one thing the cameraman could not capture. You have to see it for yourself. Everything made sense at this point. Heaven and hell is what you make it. You can make hell a heaven and heaven a hell. It all lies in the mind.