I was in ecstasy on my first visit to Ghana last April — I was on the same flight as military strongman turned ex-President Jerry Rawlings. Ten years out of power, he still cuts a dashing figure. Now a comfortably ensconced senior statesman, for me, like so many around the world, he represented a recent incarnation of the spirit of pan-African self-determination, writes Kojo Parris.
The earliest memory I have of interacting with a Homeless Talk vendor is one of fear-laced irritation. Rosebank’s snarled traffic was sufficiently irritating — I did not need this moral dilemma on my otherwise spotless conscience. All my years of “free Mandela” rallies and cups of vile coffee at leftist university seminars counted for naught in the face of this infernal person.