As a solo traveller, I’ve had the privilege of soaking up the beauty of this land we call home, and the rich, diverse histories of Africa. I’ve marvelled at the majestic Mosi-oa-Tunya Falls straddling Zambia and Zimbabwe, walked through the solemn corridors of Ghana’s slave dungeons where countless souls were held before being shipped off into the abyss of the Americas, I’ve floated in the pristine blue waters of the Red Sea off the Egyptian coast. In Malawi, walking alongside the descendants of Zwangendaba Jele, I felt the weight of their 200-year history, having become native settlers.

During my travels, I’ve encountered remarkable individuals who’ve shared their stories, laughter, and sometimes, even their hearts. In this post, I’ll reflect on my experiences with dating while travelling – the exhilarating highs, the awkward moments, and the unexpected lessons I’ve learned along the way. While I’ll be sharing my thoughts, I respect the privacy of those involved, as their stories are not mine alone. For that reason, I’ll only be sharing redacted encounters.

Loving in Ghana: The First Encounter

Ghana holds a special place in my heart – it’s where my love for Africa first deepened. My first trip outside South Africa was to this beautifully imperious nation, and I felt a profound sense of anticipation. My fascination with Ghana was ignited in 2002 when I met the renowned poet, Professor Atukwei Okai, in Durban. At 20 years old, his words stirred something within me, sparking a desire to explore the heart of Africa, a journey that has shaped my identity ever since.

Before my departure, I had been chatting with a Ghanaian man I met on Instagram. He was a content creator and tour guide, and we quickly discovered shared interests. As my trip approached, he sent me a list of items he wanted from South Africa—T-shirts and lotion, among other things. I was happy to oblige, as it felt like a small but meaningful gesture. He also promised to reimburse me, though I think you can guess how that story ends.

When I arrived in Accra, he was waiting for me with a taxi, which caught me off guard. I had expected him to greet me in his own car, as he had mentioned. To my surprise, the taxi wasn’t ready, and we had to walk around, haggling for a ride. Side note: I have no problem with taking a taxi, I just didn’t understand why he lied about coming to pick me up in his car. Though this was an early red flag, I shrugged it off. It turned out he didn’t own his own car. I still don’t understand wht he lied about this because it didn’t matter to me. I digress.

I had booked an Airbnb in Kokrobite, and when I asked him how far it was, he assured me it was close. However, the journey took over an hour and twenty minutes, much longer than anticipated, and I couldn’t help but regret not having looked into the logistics more thoroughly. Perhaps I depended on his knowledge of the city a bit too much. Lesson learned.

Upon arriving at Kokrobite Beach, my initial frustration melted away. Krokobite itself might have been the reason for this. We arrived before sunset when the sky was playing with a few colours. There were oranges, purples, reds as the sun was getting ready to retire. This was my first time out outside of South Africa and Krokobite is a small town that sits on the Altlantic Ocean. Everything felt magical.

We decided to spend the night at the Airbnb and return to Accra the following morning, where I would join a group tour. That night I had a wonderful chat with the Airbnb host who was more than happy to share some of his thoughts on the political history of Ghana.

Things had started a bit awkwardly with my handsome Ghanaian friend but I quickly warmed up to him. He was a striking man, tall and well-built, with flawless skin and a warm, infectious smile. His round face always seemed to exude a friendly countenance. I was immediately drawn to his easygoing nature.

We shared light-hearted conversations over dinner, taking selfies and laughing together. However, I quickly realised that while he was pleasant company, there was little depth to our connection. Our conversations, though easy, never moved beyond the surface, and I found myself longing for more meaningful engagement. I had finally made it to my favourite country in the world. I needed more. I had questions that needed fuller, informed answers. He couldn’t offer me deeper answers

I’d love to delve deeper into this encounter, but I might have to charge for that content! All in all, we didn’t see each other again after that day, and it was a mutual decision. He covered the taxi fare from Accra to Kokrobite, and I footed the bill for the shopping I had brought from South Africa. In the end, it turned out we were only compatible over text; face-to-face, things fell flat. I regret nothing. This was a great first attempt at getting me out of my shell

I returned to South Africa still single – perhaps even more so than before!

The Second Encounter: Another Ghanaian Man

A few years later, I found myself back in Ghana for work. During this visit, I was wandering through the Chale Wote Street Festival, admiring the temporary murals in James Town, Accra, when a towering man approached me with a confident “Hey”. The conversation was brief but memorable.

“Who are you with?” he asked in a deep voice, which matched his tall demeanour just perfectly. 

“I’m alone,” I replied, with a softness that felt foreign to me. Who was this version of me? At this point, I had been single for a few years. I wasn’t just looking for connection; I was open to meeting new people in my favourite country, uninhibited by fear. He was bold, perhaps a bit overbearing, but in a way that made me feel intrigued rather than unsafe. In hindsight, I think I needed that kind of approach to draw me out of my introverted shell.

“Come walk with me and my friends,” he said, gently taking my hand before I could think of a reason to decline. We ended up at a pop-up bar, where he bought me a drink and introduced me to his friends. Within minutes, they too felt like old companions—at least for the next few hours.

Over the next few days, we went on several dates. He was attentive, caring, and strikingly handsome – tall and regal, as you’d expect from a West African god. At nearly 1.9 metres, with a well-groomed beard, he carried himself with a quiet confidence.

He stayed in touch often during my stay in Ghana, and even after I left, his communication remained constant, until it fizzled out as those things do.

Meeting him was a beautiful experience. We shared meals, laughs, and plenty of unforgettable moments. We walked Oxford Street in Accra, shared moments in cozy cafés, danced the nights away in packed clubs as one does in Accra.

Meeting these two men gave me unique and meaningful experiences, each in their own way. Both were good men—kind, respectful, and thoughtful. My first encounter, though brief and somewhat awkward, revealed a man who, despite our short-lived connection, was genuine and kind-hearted. A few years later, during another trip to Ghana, I met someone whose confidence and warmth left a lasting impression, and our time together was filled with memorable moments. Though neither connection developed into something long-term, both experiences reminded me of the beauty of human connection and the kindness I’ve encountered throughout my travels across Africa.

And honestly, if these two are anything to go by, West African men really know how to make a girl feel special!

Stay tuned for more reflections on my travels across Africa – each story a testament to the lessons I’ve learned and the magic of human connection in all its forms.