Circa 1990, this was the average Ghanaian kid — full of zest and creativity. Innovators, even before they learned to speak an international language. We had the world at our feet — making fleets of cars with milk tins from the bin behind our compound houses, designing our very own kite-drone-aeroplanes, moving board games onto the ground — our creativity was boundless.
We had the freedom to dream and the courage to believe in our dreams. How else would we have the guts to command flying planes to go and bring us the latest toys and actually wait expectantly for them? My friend, Kofi’s dream was to be a brain doctor and open the biggest hospital Ghana had ever seen. Amma Vicentia wanted to be a teacher and write stories that had Ananse and his children in them; she didn’t understand why we, in Ghana had to be reading about Peter and Jane and their family. Anim wanted to fly out to space and finally get close enough to count the stars.
Good times, back then. In our uni days, we morphed into this:
And by the time we were ‘ready’ for the working world, we had lost all our ingenuity. Our dreams had died. Through the course of our education, we’re gradually indoctrinated to think small. Our scope shrinks from being larger than life to being ‘sufficient unto the day’. Our goal switches from taking over the world to making enough cash to put food on the table.
After graduation, any wild dream is instantly killed by a side glare from your mother. “You better stop all this dream nonsense and get yourself a job!” Subconsciously, dreamers are morphed into survivors, waiting for the next paycheck (if you’re lucky enough to score a job, that is). We’ve left pieces of our broken dreams in classrooms, lecture halls, and on the streets( a surprising amount of trekking is involved in the job search, I tell you ). Codetrain gives people back the freedom to dream and is committed to helping those dreams come true.