Precious was the pride of her family and the star of her town. Brilliant, determined, and full of dreams, she had always stood out. When she received the opportunity to study in Russia, the entire community celebrated. It was a moment of honor — a daughter of the land was going abroad to further her studies.
Life in the former capital of the former Soviet Union was not easy: the language difference and an exposure to a totally different culture made Precious overwhelmed but She was resilient. She battled the cold, culture shock, and loneliness with a brave heart. At the university, her grace, intellect, and confidence drew people to her. Lecturers praised her. Students admired her. Some wanted to be her; others wanted to be with her. Precious soon became a name that carried weight in academic and social circles.
Yet, even amidst admiration and countless opportunities to stay abroad, Precious made a decision many couldn’t understand, she wanted to return home to Ghana. “I want to contribute to my country,” she said with pride. She imagined herself lecturing at a top university, leading change, inspiring the next generation. It was during a time when Ghana had elected their new president Nana Addo who called on Ghanaians abroad to come home so they build Ghana together.
But Ghana did not welcome her with open arms.
Applications turned to rejections. Promises became silence. Former admirers disappeared. Family members who once boasted of her success began to avoid her calls. The woman who once stood on stages in London was now sitting in a small compound house, eating once a day, ashamed to step out.
Whispers followed her name. Some said she thought she was better than others. Others said she had failed. A few mocked her fall from grace. Precious, once admired, was now alone — abandoned, ridiculed, forgotten.
One rainy night, she sat by her window, tears falling as freely as the rain. She whispered an old poem her nursery teacher taught her :
“When I was a poor man, my family didn’t know me,
When I was a rich man, my family wrote a letter,
Go and tell my family ,
Still I am a poor man.”
Seven years passed.
Through perseverance, prayer, and relentless effort, Precious finally secured a job with an international organization working in Accra. Her brilliance shone again. Promotions followed. Awards came. Her story, once whispered in mockery, was now spoken with admiration.
Suddenly, old “friends” resurfaced. Family began to visit. Those who once abandoned her now called her sister, cousin, friend. Everyone wanted to be associated with her success.
One evening, as she sat in her glass-walled office overlooking the city, sipping tea in silence, she looked at her reflection and smiled — not with joy, but with the weary understanding of life.
She whispered to herself, “Is this the nature of men?”
