Alba Kunadu Sumprim was born in London. She has been writing for as long as she can remember and regularly flips through, with a wry smile, the stacks of notebooks that contain what can only be described as the melodrama of her teenage years. She graduated from the Cuban film school and earns her living writing screenplays, television programmes and a weekly social commentary column in The Daily Dispatch newspaper. She lives in Accra, where she is regularly accused of being Senegalese, Malian, Ivorian, Liberian or Zimbabwean, in fact, any other nationality but Ghanaian. She is adamant that she is just as Ghanaian as any other . . . though imported.

  • A Place of Beautiful Nonsense

    The Imported Ghanaian, after much hair tearing out, bashing her head against the cultural walls that keep shifting, got with the plan and figured out the survivors guide for those who want to stay. Not for the faint hearted, as usual she does it with much humour and a dab of acid.
  • The Imported Ghanaian

    With her rose tinted glasses firmly in place, the Imported Ghanaian deluded herself, believing that she could simply waltz into Kotoka International Airport with a grin like the winning ticket in the national lottery, and the band would strike up whilst the jubilant nation screamed, “Akwaaba-o, akwaaba, our sister has returned back to us.” She returned home thinking she was as Ghanaian as any other and that she would fit in snugly with the skills of a chameleon. The reality proved otherwise as she plunged headfirst into the endurance test of living in Ghana, where nothing is ever what it seems. Layer by layer, as if peeling an onion, each ‘coming back home’ cultural reality weaves her through a world where you can never be too sure, where an invitation is not exactly an invitation, where you have to die to find out how popular you are, and where being a Ghanaian and being Ghanaian are often two opposing concepts.

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