A cocoa farmer? A herbalist?
How perception shapes identity
One afternoon I met Mr. Acheampong. On his shoulder hung his old black music box, playing highlife at a low volume. Here’s a sample:
I greeted him as we crossed paths. ‘You went to do some rounds?’ I asked. ‘Well, as you can see.’
The sun scorched as we walked home together. We started talking about the heat, then about cocoa. Then he said, ‘You know, many people don’t know I’m a cocoa farmer.’
‘What? Really?’
‘They only know me as a herbalist.’
His comment stopped me in my tracks. I’ve always known Mr. Acheampong as a cocoa farmer. How could anyone see him differently?
The old man’s drying mat is right in front of my house. I see it every day. I’ve been to his farm, and together, we’ve spent several hours chatting while sorting his drying cocoa beans.
Many mornings I’d look out my office window just in time to see him ride away to the farm. And in the evenings, just in time to see him return, sometimes with a load of cocoa beans, sometimes with a small sack of palm fruits, sometimes, just his machete. Mr. Acheampong is indeed a cocoa farmer.
However, it turns out that’s only my perspective.
For many people in the Asamankese township, he is Onyame Ken (God First), the herbalist who, for over 20 years, has roamed their neighborhood selling his balm. Even when they don’t see him, the upbeat rhythm of classic highlife from his music box signals his presence. For these people, the old man - my cocoa farmer - is a herbalist.
Now that I’m thinking about this, there’s one more reason the townsfolk connect the old man with herbal medicine, and not cocoa farming: we live on the outskirts of Asamankese, so his farming activities are visible only to me and our neighbors. The people in town only see him when he goes to sell his balm.
One word comes to mind: frequency.
We define people by what we most often see them do. It’s a convenient shortcut. So, when it emerges that they’re something totally different, we’re surprised. Wait, how did I miss that?
And how fascinating! You’re the CEO of a giant multinational. You lead thousands around the globe. Your presence makes people shake. Yet, when you return home, park the car, and walk through that door, you’re Mum! Is that you?
Stories like Mr. Acheampong’s remind me that no single role can define a person. Cocoa farmers, herbalists, parents, CEOs - who they are depends on what we choose to see.
Perhaps, it’s time we looked closer.
Thank you for reading this piece. If you loved it, share it with a dear one today.
Credits🙏: Mr. Acheampong answered my questions. and gave great feedback. created a space for me to get feedback, thank you!
...amazing little story here and excellent message...we know so little about each other's stories...everyone we pass on the street is their own encyclopedia...the addition of the music was excellent too - awesome song...that boombox is so dope...
Love how this piece developed, nice work Benjamin! Great insight that we are more than our first impression to people. Also loved seeing the pictures, really helps bring it to life!