The aggressive style played in Ghana was not just about skill – it was about resilience and endurance. Getting tackled on rough ground meant picking yourself up, dusting yourself off and carrying on.
Every Sunday, I played football on the beach – though I would often be late because there was absolutely no way either of my uncles would allow me to stay home instead of attending church.
Those services felt like they lasted forever. But it was also a testament to Ghana as a God-fearing nation, where faith is deeply embedded in everyday life.
The first 18 months were the hardest. I resented the restrictions, the chores, the discipline.
I even tried stealing my passport to fly back to London, but my mother was ahead of me and had hidden it well. There was no escape.
My only choice was to adapt. Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing Ghana as a prison and started seeing it as happy home.
I know of a few others like me who were sent back to Ghana by their parents living in London.
Michael Adom was 17 when he arrived in Accra for school in the 1990s, describing his experience as “bittersweet”. He stayed until he was 23 and now lives back in London working as a probation officer.
His main complaint was the loneliness – he missed his family and friends. There were times of anger about his situation and the complications of feeling misunderstood.
This largely stemmed from the fact that his parents had not taught him or his siblings any of the local languages when growing up in London.
“I didn’t understand Ga. I didn’t understand Twi. I didn’t understand Pidgin,” the 49-year-old tells me.
This made him feel vulnerable for his first two-and-a-half years – and, he says, liable to being fleeced, for example, by those increasing prices because he seemed foreign.
“Anywhere I went, I had to make sure I went with somebody else,” he says.
But he ended up becoming fluent in Twi and, overall, he believes the positives outweighed the negatives: “It made me a man.
“My Ghana experience matured me and changed me for the better, by helping me to identify with who I am, as a Ghanaian, and cemented my understanding of my culture, background and family history.”