70: “I can’t imagine how exhausting..”

In 2015, as part of the government’s international citizens service I went to volunteer as a team leader on a project in Burkina Faso. My host siblings and their friends were fascinated by the fact that I have hairy arms and that you can put a brush through my hair. I also found myself being stroked on the arms/back/face by strangers when I was walking in the streets or in the local marketplace. My host mum told me it was because pale skin is associated with money and therefore thought to be lucky. I found it funny when the children did it – until one found out that my skin goes pink if you pinch it hard and then they all wanted to try it – but disconcerting when adults did it. I was only there for a short time before there was a coup and I was transferred to a role in Ghana. Sidenote: the first time I had a Black friend was when I went to university, so I will have been 19. (Out of the c. 2,000 students at my secondary school, just one was Black.) We bonded over a shared love of art and French. I remember thinking her skin was so beautiful and flawless, unlike mine with all its imperfections and blemishes. I also thought her hair was fascinating – it could just hold any shape she wanted it to whereas mine was always so flat. I hope to goodness I never asked if I could touch it, I’m racking my brain and I can’t remember either way and am too embarrassed to ask just in case. I met a wonderful man while working in Ghana and we stayed together once I left the country. He was Ghanaian and long distance was tough. I visited him several times afterwards and had no trouble getting tourist visas for the trips – all I needed was my passport, some passport photos and the right amount of money. In 2017 my sister was getting married and I naturally wanted him to be there. His first tourist visa application contained his wedding invite, along with an invitation letter from me and my parents, proof that he had a job in Ghana, a letter from his boss saying he was allowed to take leave for the trip and his return flight details. This was refused on the grounds that the Home Office didn’t see why he would return to Ghana following the wedding, with no right to appeal. His second visa application included all of the above, proof that he also rented a house in Ghana which had over a year paid on the rent, bank statements showing that he had money, bank statements from my parents showing that they had money enough to cover anything that might go wrong. This was also refused for the same reasons plus the fact that he had a refused visa to his name. I did some research and used my savings to hire a lawyer with expertise in the area. Under his guidance, my partner’s next application contained all of the above, plus character references from people that knew him, statements from people that knew both of us to say we were a genuine couple, photographs of us together and photographs of me with his family members, print outs of our Facebook messenger conversations, a cost of living breakdown showing how his salary doesn’t look like much in GBP but actually goes far and allows him to save every month, and – most insultingly – a letter written as though from my parents promising that if at any point they became unaware of my partner’s whereabouts they would report it to the local police. All for a tourist visa to attend his girlfriend’s sister’s wedding. This time it was approved. The whole process left me disgusted and ashamed of my country, and also offended that they think a life in Ghana would not be worth returning to. But mostly I felt powerless, to get my partner over for the wedding I had to engage with this hostile environment system, and write awful things like my parents would report my partner to the police is necessary as though its a reasonable thing to assume that might be needed etc. And even though he came over and it was wonderful, they had still won overall, because I'd put all my energy and savings into it and had no fight left. And that's after just a few months struggling against the tide, I can't imagine how exhausting battling your whole life must be.