We live in a generation of disobedient children, far removed from the values that shaped us. Those of us born between 1940 and 1970 in Ghana are truly blessed.
We are the generation that grew up with respect, simplicity, and joy, a time when life was pure and love was enough. We are living proof of what it means to be raised with discipline and gratitude.
As children, we played and rode rented bicycles without helmets, yet we were safe and happy. We played Oware, Ampe, Kwaakwaa (hide and seek), Asosor, Tumatu, and skipping rope without thinking about television, video, or computer games.
After school, when we attended classes twice a day, we played until dusk, not locked indoors watching television. Our friends were real, not virtual. We laughed, argued, and shared moments face‑to‑face, not through screens.
When we felt thirsty, we drank tap or stream water. Bottled water didn’t exist, yet we never suffered from Ebola or meningitis. We shared juice and sweets with friends without fear of illness.
We were content after eating fufu, kokonte, etsew, and ampesi, Ghanaian dishes that nourished both body and soul. Fried rice and “foes chicken” were luxuries reserved for Christmas, New Year, or Easter.
On those days, we proudly walked around with chicken legs and wings in hand, showing everyone we had eaten rice. We roamed barefoot, kicking balls made of rags, and nothing happened to our feet.
We didn’t need health supplements to stay strong. We made our own toys, and though our parents weren’t rich, they gave us something far more valuable, love. They were proud to see us around them.
Today, many parents chase money and status, forgetting that their children need presence more than wealth. We didn’t express emotions through emoticons or social media.
We didn’t have DVDs, PlayStations, or computers, but we had genuine friendships and heartfelt communication. We visited friends unannounced, shared meals, and felt welcome.
Love was near, and our hearts were full. We didn’t need insurance policies or artificial spiritual comfort because our communities gave us real support.
Our photographs may have been in black and white, but the memories they hold are full of colour. We are unique, the last generation that listened to our parents and the first that must listen to our children.
We are the bridge between two worlds, and we carry the wisdom of both. I am proud to belong to that noble generation, the generation of obedience, respect, and love.