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.