Friendship and Life’s Riddles

From the dusty landscapes of my native Ghana to the sprawling metropolises of Australia, I have traversed continents, surmounting innumerable challenges to attain the enviable position of a Ph.D. holder. It has been an arduous journey, lasting not just the four years of academic pursuit, but spanning over a decade, since the day I found myself catapulted into a visual arts programme courtesy of an overly zealous ICT system.

My story is a testament to triumph over adversity, a classic narrative of defying the odds. By sheer determination and hard work, I ascended into the league of those adorned with the prestigious title of “Doctor,” a rarefied echelon of intellectual prowess, perhaps an even more exclusive fraternity given my journey started from Ghana, only to culminate in the distant land of Australia.

I’m at an interesting point in my life now. People are starting to ask me if I have kids and they wouldn’t be shocked if I did, a question whose gravity I barely had time to consider until recently. As I navigate this newfound territory, I find myself frequently in discourse with old friends and schoolmates whose lives haven’t unfolded as one would expect in the conventionally defined paradigm of success.

Am I to give advice, I wonder? Am I to tell them of the hurdles I’ve overcome, the late nights, the countless revisions, the fear of failure that I’ve managed to stave off time and again to reach this point in my life? The question is not whether I can, but rather, whether I should. Should I dictate the route to success, or do I maintain my longstanding belief that each person must find their path?

Am I to give advice, I wonder? Am I to tell them of the hurdles I’ve overcome, the late nights, the countless revisions, the fear of failure that I’ve managed to stave off time and again to reach this point in my life?

It is indeed a complex dilemma. Despite my accomplishments, and despite the fact that I’ve achieved more than most with the scant opportunities presented to me, I grapple with the thought of stepping into a mentor’s shoes.

Experience has taught me that gratitude is not always a guaranteed response to benevolence. Instances of friends, their circumstances far more favourable than mine, who take offence when immediate assistance is not forthcoming, have been a perplexing revelation. One cannot always be the saviour, and perhaps this realisation is part of the journey of growth.

Culturally, the switch from Ghana to Australia presented an intriguing challenge. The contrast in the cultural nuances of personal and professional interactions was, to say the least, a culture shock. One cannot ignore the reticence of Australians in the corporate and academic world compared to the more communal approach in Ghana.

However, even with all these introspections, the question remains: What does the future hold? How do I navigate the terrains of life post-PhD? The truth is, there’s no definitive answer. I can only continue to live authentically, to learn, and to grow, carving my path with the wisdom accumulated over the years, and perhaps along the way, provide some guidance to those who seek it, when the moment feels right. Life is indeed a journey, not a sprint, and each stride we take gets us one step closer to our destination.