by Hailey Lee

After refereeing a children’s soccer match for hours under the scorching African sun, my Ghanaian friend Matthew and I sprawled out on the cool concrete steps of the Challenging Heights school building, sipping from pineapple juice boxes.

“This reminds me of childhood,” I chuckled. “During elementary school, my mum put a Mott’s apple juice box in my lunch bag every day. By fifth grade, I was so sick of them.”

Matthew, a year younger than me, took a sip of juice. “This definitely brings me back, too. I got pineapple juice boxes as Christmas presents.”

Silence.

How could a juice box be considered such a luxury?

During my four week volunteer trip to Challenging Heights School in Winneba, Ghana, interactions, such as this, opened my eyes to the omnipresence of poverty and child labor in one of the most peaceful countries in Africa.

As a young human rights advocate, I had always been concerned with the issue of human trafficking. I knew Ghana was a hotbed for child labor, particularly in the fishing industry, but until now, I had only focused on domestic human trafficking issues.[1]

In the summer of 2010, Richard Lui, my journalism mentor, asked me to co-host a speaker event at Wellesley College featuring James Kofi Annan, founder of Challenging Heights, a school that rescues and rehabilitates child laborers. Richard Lui had recently visited Ghana to do a special CNN feature on James Kofi Annan and his work at Challenging Heights. Upon returning to the States, Richard was so touched by Kofi Annan’s efforts, that he was determined to continue spreading the story of Challenging Heights.

The childhood of James Kofi Annan mirrors that of the Challenging Heights students. After his parents sold him at age six to a fisherman, James was enslaved in the Lake Volta fishing industry for nearly a decade, until he escaped his master at the age of thirteen. James Kofi Annan worked hard to provide himself an education, until he became a bank manager at Barclays, one of the largest banks in Ghana. He used his success to establish Challenging Heights, fully determined to rescue and educate fellow trafficked child laborers and ensure the welfare of at-risk children.[2] 

James Kofi Annan with Hailey Lee, Summer 2011. Photo Credit: Hailey Lee

If a former child slave like James Kofi Annan managed to educate himself and become successful, it was without a doubt that someone like me — a college student with all the resources I wanted at my fingertips — could be successful as well. No longer could I stand idle as I witnessed or learned of social injustices around the world. Kofi Annan’s story was my call to arms.

Hailey Lee with students at Challenging Heights School, Winneba, Ghana, Summer 2011. Photo Credit: Hailey Lee

In early July 2011, I arrived at Challenging Heights, galvanized by the intention of making a difference in the lives of hundreds of children. Challenging Heights was a safe haven for more than 400 at-risk and rescued child laborers. Some students had never attended school in their lives and others had never learned to read and write. Some were orphans and some knew not of the term “family,” for their own parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles had sold them into slavery.

Initially, I was easily affected by the poverty I witnessed. Every day, on my way to and from the school, I would navigate the maze of trash-filled streets and makeshift vendors in Winneba. I would shudder at the sight of smiling children in rags — if any clothes at all — running up to me, hands outstretched, oblivious that an ocean away there were children just like them enjoying hot dogs and clean water from drinking fountains.

One morning, the school social workers and I visited the home of Abena, a recently rescued girl. There was no “Welcome” mat to greet us at the entrance; in fact, there was no door at all. A tattered piece of cloth was the only element separating the home from the sewer-lined streets beyond.

“I want to go to school, like my friends,” whispered Abena.

Sitting cross-legged on the dusty concrete floor of her one room house, Abena looked from her grandmother, who was her babysitter, to the social worker, searching for an answer.

“You must talk to your parents, Abena,” the social worker responded. “It costs 20 cedis a semester to attend Challenging Heights. But there are plenty of nearby public schools as well.”[3]

Three days later, Abena and her new friends were braiding my hair during recess in the Challenging Heights schoolyard.

Photo Credit: Hailey Lee

During my days at Challenging Heights, it seemed that everything I owned was fascinating to the children, from an energy bar to hand sanitizer. These were items that I generally took for granted, but for them, instant access to an energy boost or cleanliness in a bottle was a novelty.

Yet only two weeks later in my time at Challenging Heights, I caught myself accepting impoverishment as the new norm. Seeing four-year-old Elizabeth walk around Challenging Heights barefoot was nothing new. She was hardly the only one missing shoes. I found myself becoming selective in what I chose to witness and experience. I chose not to acknowledge the dilapidated, rusted buildings throughout Winneba. I chose not to acknowledge the begging children on the streets, asking, “Please madam, I need water. Give me money for water,” remembering that often, parents put their children up to this. I chose not to acknowledge the tattered state of the children’s uniforms at Challenging Heights.

Why?

As a mere individual, I felt that there was nothing in my power to alleviate these injustices single-handedly. This was my first time in a developing country, and the initial exposure to Ghana left me vulnerable to the unfamiliar surroundings. But in two weeks, I had already managed to build a fort around myself — a thicker skin.

But was that all it took for me to become accustomed to the poverty around me? Two weeks? I was so ashamed of how I felt; I never dared to discuss this with other volunteers.

On the other hand, however, the poison of passivity that had paralyzed me eventually forced me to take a moment to reflect on the widespread desensitization throughout the world. One goal that I had in coming to Ghana was to use my experience to spread awareness back home in the United States by invoking debates and writing newspaper columns. But I didn’t want to report in the hackneyed manner of countless mainstream news stations, whose coverage of African poverty is reduced to nothing but abstract misery. Many people see the proverbial footage of starving children, dilapidated mud shacks and dirt roads lined with open sewers, but these stories struggle to make lasting impressions on Westerners with desensitized attitudes. They merely shake their heads and go back to sipping their morning coffee.

It’s critically important to continue spreading awareness about the social injustices and inequality in Africa, yet these archetypal stories and images of Africa fail to recognize the positive aspects of the continent. Rather, it was Matthew’s reminiscence of his juice box Christmases, James Kofi Annan’s journey of survival and success, and Abena’s fervent yearning to learn that won over my heart. When journalists feature personal tales, successes, and dreams, their reporting will be more effective in relaying the larger issues of poverty and human trafficking.

In fact, Western journalists can also learn a thing or two about poverty reporting from the Ghanaian way of life. In Ghana, the bond of community allows many people to confront difficulties with smiling faces. Often a stranger is greeted as “brother” or “sister” and Christian values such as charity and compassion ring true in daily life. The encouraging outlook of the Ghanaians that I met — young and old — made a longer-lasting impact on me than the dilapidated streets and rag tag children. I will never forget the optimism and resilience of the rescued children at Challenging Heights. Nor will I ever lose respect for the dedication and passion of the workers at the school. Even on the streets, nobody was ever too busy to wave, chat, or invite you to share a meal. I certainly felt more welcome as an outsider in Winneba, Ghana than I did strolling in my own hometown of Edina, Minnesota.

Open Air Market, Winneba, Ghana, Summer 2011. Photo Credit: Hailey Lee

Back home, I now even find it natural to greet strangers cheerily, hoping to brighten a person’s day with a smile — just like the Ghanaians did every day for me. If journalists can fuse their reporting with the uplifting, positive attitude of Ghanaians, rather than using clichéd fatalism, their audience will be far more inspired to take action.

On my last day at Challenging Heights, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I was abandoning the school children and the new friends I had come to love and respect. After bonding for a month, just when these children had come to trust and open up to volunteers like me, it was already time to leave. I realized this was not the first time for these children; it was a bittersweet cycle of volunteers swooping in to “save the day” and then leaving once their work was done. This seemed unfair to the children, only enforcing their belief that there was nobody in their lives to depend on for stable mentorship.

“When will you come back? Will we see you after summer break?”

I didn’t want to leave.

In retrospect, I gained more from the Ghanaians I met than I have been able to give back to them. Now I channel the fight against child trafficking in Ghana to a new battlefront: the United States. Now back home, I actively share the stories of James Kofi Annan and my Challenging Heights friends, hoping to spread the call to arms. I am rattling the chains of modern-day slavery with a determined smile upon my face.[4]

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Sources

Acheampong, Elvis Akwasi. “The Canker Of Child Labor In Ghana, A Cause For Concern.” GhanaWeb. Nov. 2010. <http://www.modernghana.com/news/303880/1/the-canker-of-child-labor-in-ghana-a-cause-for-con.html>. Accessed 29 July 2012.

United States Department of Labor, 2010 Findings on the Worst Forms of Child Labor – Ghana, 3 October 2011. <http://www.unhcr.org/refworld/docid/4e8c397d1c.html>.

Accessed 29 July 2012.