My Ex’s Ex Wants To Go On Holiday With Me

My ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend wants to bring their son to Ghana in 2020 and she wants me and my family to tag along.

I know what you’re thinking. “What in the whypipo world is this mayonnaise nonsense?” Well, let me assure you: All the players in this ball are Black – unquestionably and unapologetically so. I have to admit; moments like this cause me to question and interrogate standards of Blackness. Am I falling short of them for even entertaining such a notion? How deep into the venn diagram of things Black people don’t do does this idea fall into? I won’t know until I find out.

Oh? You thought I was going to pass up on this opportunity? Think again. I am utterly intrigued and this plot demands a thorough investigation.

I’m sure you are wondering how far back this relationship goes. This guy, Marcus*, was my very first boyfriend ever. We dated at 13 and 15, respectively. He was one of those ‘energetic’ kids who was dropped off in Accra for a holiday and not collected for another two years. I considered him the love of my life. (And why not? The paper fortune teller said that I would marry him and that we would have 12 kids, one named Aaliyah and another named Elijah.) What happened in reality couldn’t be more divergent. Two years later, a ticket arrived for him and he was shipped off back to the States and I was left devastated and alone in Accra with only our dozen phantom offspring to keep me company. The details of the next 20 plus years of our separation are immaterial. What’s important now is the insanity that confronts us now: His ex-girlfriend and mother of his son wants not only to meet me, but to spend evenings eating roasted plantain, drinking Vita Malt and going on road trips from one Ghanaian mausoleum to the next.


The most obvious – and cynical – reason I can come up with is that she is looking for an experienced (and trustworthy) guide to take her around Accra. Well, have I got news for her! I haven’t visited the country in six years, and even when I did live there, I was the quintessential dadabee. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere if it wasn’t in a private car or a taxi that my dad had hailed for me. Depending on me to get her around Accra efficiently is like depending on your seamstress to finish your Ankara dress before Christmas.

And then there’s the eccentric side of me that believes – I mean truly in my gut – that this mystery woman wishes to enter into a sister-wife relationship with me; one where we can bond over our one-time fierce love for this man. I suspect that she, like I, still holds a flame for Marcus (I’ve already had that conversation with my husband) and perhaps this is her way of reaching out to someone who’s… been there? I really don’t know. I’m so confused.

So here are my questions to you, Adventurers: 

  1. On a scale of one to Souljah Boy screaming “Tyga”, how weird is this enterprise?
  2. Do we go on this double date with our families, and if we do, what are the potential risks?
  3. Have you ever heard of a scenario like this? Because I’ll confess, this is totally new ground for me.

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