When the site postings were released, I was both nervous and excited to see where I would serve.  The name Kojokrom sounded simple yet unfamiliar. On deployment day, as we turned off from the Komenda Sehwi junction and drove for about thirty minutes along a quiet, winding road, I couldn’t help wondering, “Where exactly are we going?”

The journey felt long and deep into the countryside, but the lush greenery and fresh air made it worth it. It was peaceful, almost as if nature itself was welcoming me to a new beginning. That sense of peace grew even stronger when we finally arrived. The smiles, laughter, and warmth of the people made me feel instantly at home.

Kojokrom is a small, quiet community surrounded by cocoa, cassava, and plantain farms: simple, but full of life and potential. My host family received me with open arms. I met Auntie Ekuwa frying gari with her daughter, Maame Yaa, while my host father, Daa Kofi Ghana, later surprised me with a small but meaningful gift: a radio loaded with old highlife songs by Nana Ampadu and others.  As the music played, I felt connected again to home, to culture, to memory. My cluster mate, Elia, joined me, and together we sang and laughed until midnight.

A few days later, I was formally introduced to the community. I spoke briefly about why I was there; to listen, to learn, and to work with them to identify their strengths and develop income-generating activities. Their response was warm and full of hope.

One day after heavy rain, I witnessed something that would stay with me. Many community members had dried cocoa and pepper for sale, but the sudden downpour soaked everything. I could feel their disappointment, yet my host father simply said in Fante, “We go again tomorrow.”  That quiet resilience taught me what strength really looks like, the will to begin again, no matter what.

Now, my days are filled with connection. I spend evenings helping children with homework and sharing stories. The people of Kojokrom are hardworking, united, and deeply grounded in hope.

Kojokrom is teaching me that development doesn’t come from outside. It grows from within, from people, their ideas, and their determination to rise again. Every day here reminds me that this journey is not just about service; it is about becoming.