
By Fiifi NETTEY
It was a quiet Tuesday morning—July 8, 2025. I arrived at the office a bit late, around 9:30 a.m., my mind was adrift in nostalgia. Just as I settled in, a voice rang out: “Raxzo! Raxzo!” I looked up in disbelief—and there he was: Bright Lamptey, better known as Shammy, my brother from another mother.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he said with a wide grin. I was speechless. We embraced tightly—the kind of hug that dissolves years in an instant. Outside, another surprise awaited: his entire family, including familiar faces I hadn’t seen in decades. It was a heartfelt reunion. We laughed, hugged again and caught up as if no time had passed at all. That moment rekindled the brotherhood we had built over the years. Conversation flowed effortlessly, memories, updates and reflections came pouring out like pages of an unfinished story finally being read aloud.
His wife, Inga, a German who last visited Ghana 16 years ago, was especially sentimental. Though this trip was prompted by an emergency, she was eager to reconnect with the places that had once meant so much to her.
The following day, they stopped by the office again. Inga’s eyes lit up as she recalled our old routines—how we never missed our weekly banku rendezvous at El Greengo, our spirited Friday nights dancing at Container Bar across from Papaye in Osu, and the soulful live traditional music at Byeworld. Her laughter echoed the joy of those times.
We reminisced about our occasional Sunday swims at Labadi Beach, the lively nights at Rose of Sharon – a tucked-away pub on Tip-Toe Lane, and our beloved Heavys Pub in Awudome Estate, where the music never stopped. And, of course, the unforgettable fufu at Heavy Do Chop Bar in Kokomlemle.
Sundays in Kokomlemle were sacred for another reason: banku with fresh pepper, fish and okro stew at a favourite corner chop bar. Duncan’s Pub was our usual Saturday afternoon hangout, where we caught up on everything from politics to football. Those simple rituals had become the threads of our bond—sturdy, comforting and timeless.
We also recalled our road trips—each one a chapter in our shared adventure. There was our memorable journey to Hohoe in the Volta Region, the breathtaking sight of Wli Waterfalls and our hike to the caves of Kpando. We remembered our occasional visits to the White Sands Beach at Gomoa Fetteh and the cultural nights at the Goethe-Institut, where we mingled with expatriates and shared Ghanaian traditions.
Some of those places are now gone—swallowed by development or faded by time. Yet, the memories remain intact, vivid and alive in our hearts.
Inga was impressed by how much Accra had transformed—the improved road networks, the growing infrastructure and the modern look of Terminal 2 at Kotoka International Airport. She delighted in the Ghanaian dishes she had longed for and smiled as she soaked in the familiar sun, though she noticed it was gentler than before. “Climate change,” she observed. “It’s happening everywhere.”
That day reminded me of something profound: true friendship survives distance, time and change. Places may vanish. People may drift. But the laughter, the love and the shared memories—they live on, stronger and more cherished with each passing year.
>>>The writer is a media consultant
The post Memories from afar… appeared first on The Business & Financial Times.
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