20.17.20.22

Dear B,

Hi. It’s me - your older self - sitting here in 2024, trying to reach back across the years to talk to you. I know it feels strange, but I want you to imagine that I’m sitting right in front of you, just as you are now, at 14. And I want you to really hear what I’m about to say because this isn’t easy for me to tell, it took me weeks to be able to do this.

I see you. You’re that bright-eyed girl who just aced the  BECE , and you’re beaming with pride. You’ve won that CAMFED scholarship to Senior High School, and right now, it feels like the whole world is at your feet. You’re dreaming big, imagining how your life will unfold - university by 17, a degree by 20, a future full of promise, you feel unstoppable, ready to take on the world.

But B, as much as I wish I could let you live in that dream, I have to tell you the truth. Life isn’t going to follow the script you’ve penned so carefully . From where I sit now, I see the twists and turns that are coming, and they are not what you expect. I am here to tell you that the journey ahead is going to be hard - much harder than you can imagine right now. And I’m writing this with tears in my eyes because I know how much it’s going to hurt you.

Take note, when you turn 17, you’re going to finish Senior High School just like you planned. But after that, everything will change. Instead of stepping onto a university campus as you dreamed, you are going to find yourself at home, feeling completely alone with your thoughts and your disappointments. You will watch as your friends move forward, enrolling in universities and training schools, while you’re left behind. It’s going to feel like the world is moving forward without you, like you’re stuck in a place where dreams go to die.

I can see you sitting there, trying to make sense of it all, wondering where it went wrong. The money that was supposed to send you to university won’t be there. The support you were counting on will evaporate, and with it, the future you had envisioned. And I can feel the pain that’s going to hit you - the kind that makes you want to scream, makes you want to hide from everyone and everything.

In those moments, the walls of your home will close in on you. The house that once felt safe will become a prison, filled with the echoes of, “Why can’t you be like them?” You will hear it over and over again, as comparisons are thrown at you like knives, each one cutting deeper than the last. And you will start to believe them. You will start to think that maybe, just maybe, you are a failure.

I need you to know B, that this pain will be real, and it  will be so overwhelming that you will do anything to escape it. You will take on work that no one should have to endure, especially not someone with your health. You will stand at Dukes Filling Station at Santa Maria, serving fuel, the toxic fumes burning your lungs with every breath. It is during this time that you will learn that you are iron deficient, you have anemia and asthma —conditions that make every day a struggle to get out of bed, to keep going, to breathe. But you will push through it all because staying at home, enduring the constant reminders of what you haven’t achieved from mom, feels even worse.

There will be days when the exhaustion is so great that you will want to disappear, to erase yourself from a world that seems determined to crush you. I remember, one night you will search, “How to lose memory temporarily ,” into Google, hoping to find a way to forget the pain, to start over. The absurd answers —"Hit your head against a wall until you pass out"—will seem strangely tempting in your darkest moments. But you won’t do it. Something inside you, even then, that won’t let you give up completely

But those dark days will not end quickly. They will stretch on, and the weight of it all will push you to the brink. In 2020, just when you think there might be a glimmer of hope, it will be dashed. You will receive an admission to UPSA to study Public Relations , and for a moment you’ll think, “This is it, my chance to turn things around.” But when you call Dad, nervous and excited , his response will shatter that hope into a thousand pieces. He will tell you he doesn’t have the money, that you’ll have to wait until Efe, your stepsister finishes university.

You will try to reason with him, to explain how much this means to you, but then he will say something that will feel like a punch to the guts “if you can’t wait, go and find money elsewhere. I’m not going to pay three thousand and something cedis for you to go to school.”

You will hang up the phone, your hands trembling, your heart in your throat, tears streaming down your face, a torrent of grief and anger and frustration that you can’t stop. You will cry for the dreams that seem to be slipping away, for the support that was supposed to be there but wasn’t, for the feeling that you are alone in a world that doesn’t care. You will say to yourself, “I am the brilliant one, I have been obedient and respectful,why must I wait for 4 years before I can further my education ?, why must it be me?”

In those moments, you will feel small. You will feel invisible, like your dreams don’t matter, like you don’t matter. And you will want to disappear, to hide from a world that has done nothing but hurt you. The house will become an unbearable place, filled with the constant reminders of what you haven’t done, of who you haven’t become. You will avoid people, retreating into yourself, and lose yourself in your phone, where you can pretend that everything is okay . You will become an island, isolated from the rest of the world, lost in your own pain.

But, B, this is not where your story will end. The darkness will not last forever. You will not be defined by these years, by the pain, by the failures. You are so much more than that. You are stronger than you know, and this strength will carry you through even the darkest nights.

In 2023, you’re going to get another chance. you get into BlueCrest University, and this time , things will be different. It won’t be easy - you’ll struggle to find the money, because the money you saved from your previous jobs won’t be enough because by that time you’d have used most of them for medications and treatment , you’ll cry, you’ll beg God to make this possible, you’ll look for scholarships and you’ll be waitlisted, you’ll go to your families and it will not yield any fruits, you will cry, you’ll hate yourself for being alive for so long to witness this the second time.

But you’ll fight for it. And you’ll make it happen. You’ll get into that school, you will not just be another student—you will be someone others look up to. You will excel in your studies, topping your class, earning A’s not just because you’re smart, but because you’ve fought for every single one of them. You will hold leadership positions, and the school will come to rely on you to manage their social media because they see in you the brilliance that you once struggled to see in yourself.

I’m not saying it will be easy. You will still struggle to pay your fees, still have days when the weight of it all feels too much to bear. But this time, you will carry that weight with a grace and strength that will surprise even you. And as you walk across that campus, head held high, you will know that every hardship, every moment of doubt, was worth it. Because you didn’t just survive—you thrived.

I wish someone could have been there to tell me these things, to hold me in those dark moments and tell me that everything will be okay. But since I didn’t get anyone, i’m using this opportunity to tell you now. I’m here, reaching back across the years , to say what I wish someone had said to me when I was 14.

So, B, please remember this as you step into 2017 :

1. It’s okay to stumble, fall and be at a pause:  Life is not a straight line, and you will trip along the way. Life is like an orchestra, there’s always an intermission, that pause-that short rest period the musicians and conductors get after playing so long does not make them weak, it does not make them lose the feel of being able to play, that intermission does not take away their skill , that intermission allows them to stretch their legs, to rethink, to come back even stronger. So every time you feel like there’s a pause in your life, remember you’re in an orchestra, and you have been given the time to go and reflect , the time to relax so that every time you get back up, you will be stronger than before. Your stumbles are not failures—they are lessons, and they will make you into the person you are meant to be. Intermissions , breaks, pauses, doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

2. You are not defined by others’ opinions: The world will try to tell you who you are, but only you can decide that. You are more than the labels, the comparisons, the judgments. You are you, and that is enough.

3. Pain is temporary: The darkness may seem overwhelming now, but it will not last forever. Beyond it lies a light that is so much brighter because of what you’ve been through.

4. Your journey is your own: Don’t compare yourself to others. Their successes, their paths, are not yours to follow. You are carving out a path that is uniquely yours, and it will lead you to places you never imagined.

5. Keep your heart open: Even when it feels like the world has closed its doors on you, keep your heart open. There is still so much love, so much joy, waiting for you. Don’t shut it out because of the pain you’ve experienced.

6. Believe in your worth: You are valuable, not because of what you achieve, but because of who you are. Your worth is inherent, and it can never be taken away by circumstances or the opinions of others.

7. Never ever, in any point forget God. I know, you’ll wonder why there’s God and yet you’re struggling, but always remember Jeremiah 29:11-14  - never forget that verse, let it be inscribed in you, use it, remind God of His thoughts about you. B, never forget God.

As you stand at the beginning of this journey, i want you to know that the future is yours. It may not be the future you imagined, but it is bright, and it is full of promise. You will make it through this. You will come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more resilient. And when you do, you will look back on these years, not with regret, but with a deep understanding of just how far you’ve come.

So keep going, B. keep believing in yourself, and know that you are not alone. I’m here, waiting for you on the other side, and I’m so, so proud of who you will become.

With all the love, strength, and hope I can give,

The Older You.