Dansoman on a Sunday afternoon.
The streets where Ba Shia began
When I started creating “Ba Shia,” I thought I was just making art. But as I worked, I realized the art was also shaping me.
In the Ga language, “Ba Shia” means “come home.” It can be as simple as returning to your family or as deep as reconnecting with your roots or finding a part of yourself you thought was lost.
My journey with “Ba Shia” began when I returned to my parents’ home in Dansoman after living away for four years. Coming back was difficult. I was dealing with the weight of leaving the religious community I grew up in, the loss of a business I had worked hard to build, and the end of a long-term relationship.
To cope, I started taking long walks through the neighborhood. I took photos, capturing what had changed and what remained the same. Some buildings were renovated, while others still stood with the same cracks in their walls that I remembered from childhood. People I knew had moved away, but some were still around, greeting me with my old nickname.
These walks became the foundation of “Ba Shia.” The project grew with me as I explored other neighborhoods across Ghana, each one adding its own rhythm, sound, and perspective to the story.
Throughout this process, I was searching for a feeling of home—not just a physical place to live, but a sense of belonging. I sometimes found it in the smell of salt from the sea, the calls of market sellers, or even in my own work, as I cut and joined images until they felt like memories I had lived before.
My art often blends what I know with what I imagine. I mix old photographs with new ideas, seawater with stardust, and everyday life with future possibilities. Each piece is a conversation between the past and the future.
Ultimately, “Ba Shia” is not just my story; it’s for anyone who has left home, returned, or found a sense of belonging in an unexpected place.
When I invite you to “Ba Shia,” I’m inviting you to reflect on your own homecoming.
