A HOME IN A DREAM

My Dream

When I was young I used to live in a place called Dixcove, a place full of hills, forests and the sea. It is located in Africa, Ghana to be precise in the Western Region. I used to love that place and even now I do. It was the cleanest place I knew although not anymore (I know this because my visit there a few years back as an adult left me in disappointment). My parents shipped us to the capital city when I was thirteen years old. I remember been happy because I was finally leaving a small town to a big city; the capital city to be precise. As a child I thought all my wish will come through with this move but I realized it was just a dream as I grew up.
My live in Accra, was quite okay to some standard. Nothing really changed except it was bigger and brighter with so much noise but in comparison to my little town I would have preferred that place more to the city.
My parents never ever considered our opinions on any decision they made, they just assumed we would be okay with it. Heck back then children were not allowed to have opinions. As I grew up, I understood my mother in a sense. She just wanted my father to be around his children considering me and my siblings only saw him once every month. Frankly, I never understood what was the big deal not seeing my father on regular basis but that did not apply for my brothers. I was the only girl in the family including my two brothers. My mother tried her best to turn me to a typical good girl who knows her place but I was never one. To me, what a woman can do a man could also do it; this was in terms of house chores. My father made it look like it was a woman's job but I was not having it.
I guess if we had stayed in our small town I would have adopted to that but they choose to send me to the city.
As time went on, I went to senior high school and was at a boarding house. My mother the goodie two shoes she was decided to send for my cousin to come stay with us while I was away. In her opinion we had enough space to share. I hated that, since I was not informed of it. I thought I was old enough to be added in decision making but I guess to my parents I was still a child. Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate my cousin I just hated that my space will be encroached upon. For your information, we lived in a chamber and hall house with a small pouch. Basically a big room with a small room attach and an even smaller pouch attached where we do all the cooking which eventually gets back into "my room". My parents lived in the big room while I stayed with my brothers in the smaller one and with the addition of my male cousin made me angry. I mean how do you expect a teenage girl to share a room with three boys.
As I said, my parents did not understand where my complaints were coming from. To them, me sharing a room with the boys was no problem.
I really hated my life as a teenage and to make it worst, my school mates kept talking about how they had their own rooms to themselves at home. I knew not all of them were telling the truth, but some genuinely did. I remember at one time, all I wanted was to get married early so I could live in my husband's home but the thought of child birth scared me out of it.
I love my parents but all I wanted was to live in my small town where I had enough space to my self and we had a separate kitchen. I used to dream a lot about my hometown and I remember always staying there in comfort and peace with no noise and less garbage although more now but still better than the city.
Even now that I am adult of twenty-eight, my dream is earn enough money and build a house there preferably a house on a hill. I know some will call it silly but not everyone wants to live in a place where you hardly know your neighbor. This dream of my reminds me of a story I once read "Why I live Where I live" by Harry Crews.
My home is not where I found myself but where I choose to settle myself. To me a peaceful environment is all I need.