One of my 2010 New Year’s resolutions was to resign from my job and find a new one. By the end of February – after staying home for two months – I fulfilled this pledge! On my first day at my new job, as protocol demanded, Human Resources sent an inter-office e-mail to notify others of the “newcomer.” Among the respondents who welcomed me was a lady with a full Ghanaian name – Ama Adjei-Mpiani. Ama worked at the company’s Virginia location; every so often, she would inquire via e-mail as to how things were with me. Ever elated for an acquaintance with productive women of Ghanaian descent, I looked forward to my eventual get-together with Ama.


After my three-month probationary period, Ama suggested that we meet for lunch one day. But since she works at the Arlington, VA, office and I in Bethesda, MD, getting together for a one-hour lunch would be impossible, so I suggested a dinner get-together instead. Ama and I finally met in mid-August. Though, we had only exchanged e-mails and spoken on the phone briefly, our encounter did not feel awkward; rather, it felt more like two long-lost friends reconnecting. Ama was jovial, witty, and could hold a decent conversation!


During the course of the evening, I queried: “Ama, how’s your hubby?” “Oh, who the hell knows,” Ama impishly replied. Taken aback by her response, I continued: “Don’t tell me you are legally married but emotionally divorced.” “No, I am divorced in every sense!” Ama enthused. I then quipped: “Well, don’t you sound too heartbroken now, you hear?” Ama chuckled and emphasized that she was glad her “debacle” of a marriage was over. I then asked the obvious: “Why are you still wearing that wedding ring then?” Ama explained that she wore the wedding ring for many reasons, and I anticipated hearing all of them.


However, Ama did not reveal her rationales for still adorning the ring, but rather delved into details of her now-defunct union. Much like any relationship, Ama and her former spouse had their joys and problems, and they always devised a solution for the latter. But one problem was ever present – her in-laws’ financial demands on her husband! Per Ama, this is what ultimately dealt their marriage the coup de grace! Ama lamented that her ex-husband could not say “no” to his extended family in Ghana and that, at times, the man would send money to his relatives before he would pay the couple’s mortgage bill.


“Well, caring for our extended kin makes us uniquely African – family is important to us,” I stated. Surprised, Ama asked: “So you condone the habit of opportunistic and lazy individuals siphoning someone else’s hard-earned money?” “You are being overly simplistic, don’t you think?” I replied rhetorically. A heated debate then ensued! Ama contended that Ghanaians who reside outside of Mother Ghana ought to concentrate on their financial obligations in their respective host countries. And they should cease habitually sending money home in an attempt to impress Ghanaian society at large.


I countered that those based overseas transfer funds to relatives for the purpose of helping their communities, and not necessarily to impress other Ghanaians. Ama then added that abroad-based Ghanaians, who neglect their financial responsibilities and rather oblige demands from their relatives, are only seeking vainglory: “We must focus on our lives in this land [U.S.A.] and not elsewhere!” Ama exclaimed. To which I responded: “Sending money home is part of the immigrant experience – a tradition, if you will. Our parents did it, we have come of age to partake in the tradition and, someday, our children will continue it.”


Unconvinced, Ama declared: “I see; basically, we should fulfill frivolous financial requests under the guise of tradition?” “No, far from that,” I defended. “I concur that helping family in Ghana should not be done in a manner that will negate our ability to honor our financial obligations in this country. Of course, if a relative calls to request an iPad, a designer bag, or money for other ostentatious items, said kin’s request should be dismissed outright. But if it pertains to school, tuition, medical needs, or things of that nature then, surely, we can help,” I emphasized.


Ama then glared at me and uttered: “Perhaps, had you been involved with a man who constantly sent money to Ghana, you would understand.” “Let me tell you a story: The man I spent most of my adult life with departed the shores of Ghana at the tender age of eight. Throughout the years, his parents took him to Ghana only a handful of times. But, as a grown man, though he barely knew his extended kinfolk in Ghana, the man had no qualms about sending them money when they asked. I was very proud of him for that!” I noted. “Living in the United States for so long, the man was completely immersed in American culture – rendering his ‘Ghanaianess’ hard to detect. But his inherent inclination to cater to family in Ghana proved to me that, underneath all the Americanisms, lay a heart of a genuine African King!” I praised. “Your ex-beau sent money to relatives in Ghana he had little knowledge of, to overcompensate for losing his sense of Ghanaian heritage,” Ama theorized. “Now, you are just being preposterous,” I shot back.


The contentious debate raged unabated for quite a while, neither of us budging our stance. However, Ama eventually gave me a shocker – apparently, some Ghanaian (and African) women have added a new method of screening prospective life partners. According to Ama, some African ladies will not deign to date African men whose parents reside in the Motherland, exception being if said parents were affluent. The rationale is that wealthy parents in Africa rarely request money from their offspring domiciled abroad, and they tend to block extended relatives from “pestering” the former’s progenies for money.


Stunned, I stated: “I sincerely hope your claims are urban legends!” “No, these are facts,” Ama said. “This is clearly a myth; do you actually know of any such African women?” I asked. “It is not a myth, some African young ladies subscribe to this method of screening and most of my friends are no exception. They prefer African men whose parents reside abroad as well, are affluent in Africa, or are among the dearly departed,” Ama elaborated. Though I (obviously) did not personally know the women Ama spoke of, my indignation and discontent toward them became palpable.


Sooner than Ama and I had bid adieu in the restaurant’s parking lot, I called my cousin, Konadu, who resides in the Tri-State area with her spouse. Konadu is a devout Christian – or “Chrife” – as is known in Ghanaian circles. For reasons too lengthy to list, I have long deemed Konadu as a “voice of reason.” I relayed Ama’s friends’ method of screening to Konadu and awaited her to say: “Don’t mind them,” as she is fond of saying, and dismiss them as Westernized African women who do not know the value of family. But, to my dismay, Konadu replied, “Well, one cannot blame the ladies for not wanting to get entangled with men whose relatives are ‘vampires.’” “Huh? Et tu, Konadu?” I whispered in utter disbelief.


Much like Ama, Konadu lamented about her in-laws! Konadu’s husband built a house in Kumasi for his mom a couple of years ago. But because the mom is content with living in her small hometown and not in a metropolis, her two sons – Kwasi and Yaw – have moved into the house with their respective wives and children. Apparently, the brothers inundate Konadu’s better half with requests for money – to pay utility bills or buy items for their mom. Should Konadu’s husband deny his brothers’ requests, Yaw, in particular, would leave voice messages that his brother was selfish! It infuriates Konadu that her brothers-in-law expect her husband to pay for the former’s utilities; and she suspects that her mother-in-law does not need the items that the duo asks money for. To Konadu, the pair uses their mom as a tool to extort money. Konadu declared that if she had to do it over, she would definitely choose a man whose parents were no more!


In the decade that Konadu’s husband brought her to America, this was the first time that I heard her express irateness about him or his family. Konadu concluded that she had saved the voice messages of her brothers-in-law and would play the audio the next time I visited – to help me understand her fury. “Incidentally, when will you visit us?” Konadu inquired. I do not recall whether I replied her query; all I know is that I had to get off the phone lest I rammed into the vehicle in front of me. For Konadu’s reaction and views on the matter had scattered my brains and subsequently impaired my senses.


When I got home, I took to my laptop and “pounded” away at the keyboard to ask my fellow African women this question: Ladies, has it come to this? Are we now rejecting African men on the premise that their extended relatives back home might have a need to ask them for money? As an African woman, have you or would you end a relationship on this basis? Of course, we’d also like to hear from our African Kings: Has your woman left you, or threatened to leave you, due to your extended family’s financial demands?


Lola, Washington, DC