They Call Me Abena: How Ghana and Rwanda Changed Everything
- Tiffany Brown
- 3 hours ago
- 3 min read
I've always believed that travel changes you. But some trips don't just change you—they rename you.
Last November, I boarded a plane with a group of pastors and World Vision, headed for Ghana and Rwanda. As a videographer, I've learned that my camera is more than a tool—it's a passport into people's stories. I thought I was going to document a journey. I had no idea the journey would document itself onto me.
A New Name
In Ghana, I received a gift I never expected: a new name. Abena.
In Ghanaian tradition, names carry the weight of identity, of belonging. When they called me Abena, something shifted. I wasn't just a visitor with a camera anymore. I was welcomed in—claimed, in a way. There's no lens wide enough to capture what that feels like, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying.
Standing Inside History
Both Ghana and Rwanda carry histories that demand to be felt, not just learned.
In Ghana, I walked through a history that stretches back centuries—rich, complex, painful, and proud all at once. Standing in places where history actually happened is different from reading about it. The air is heavier. The silence says more than any textbook ever could.
In Rwanda, I met a survivor whose story left me speechless—and as someone who tells stories for a living, that doesn't happen often. Her testimony was phenomenal, a portrait of resilience I couldn't have scripted if I tried. Rwanda itself is a testament to what healing can look like: a country that walked through unimaginable darkness and chose, deliberately, to rebuild. I kept my camera rolling, but honestly? Some moments I just had to put it down and be present.
The Moment She Chose Me
Here's the part I still can't talk about without tearing up.
World Vision hosts something called a Chosen party—and it flips the traditional sponsorship model on its head. Instead of sponsors picking a child from a photo, the children do the choosing. They walk through photos of potential sponsors and pick the person they want in their corner.
I watched a little girl choose me.
Me. Out of all those photos, she picked mine. I became her sponsor that day, but the word "sponsor" feels too small for what happened. I spent time with her and her grandmother, and every minute made it harder to leave. I'm not exaggerating when I say I wanted to bring her home with me. My heart genuinely tried to negotiate it.
Instead, I get something lasting: a relationship. Letters, updates, prayers, and the knowledge that across the ocean, there's a little girl whose story is now woven into mine—because she chose it to be.
Why I'll Never Travel Without a Camera
People sometimes ask if filming while traveling keeps me from being present. I've found the opposite. My camera makes me pay attention. It forces me to notice the light on a grandmother's face, the joy at a celebration, the quiet dignity of a survivor telling her truth. Videography has taught me to look for the story in everything—and travel keeps handing me stories worth telling.
But Ghana and Rwanda taught me something new: knowing when to press record, and when to simply witness. The best moments from that trip aren't all on a memory card. Some of them are just in me now.
Life-Changing Isn't a Cliché
I've used the phrase "life-changing" loosely before. I won't anymore.
Life-changing is being renamed Abena in Ghana. It's sitting with a genocide survivor and hearing hope in her voice. It's a little girl's hand in yours after she picked you out of a sea of faces. It's realizing that the world is both bigger and smaller than you thought—bigger in its stories, smaller in how quickly strangers become family.
I went to Africa to capture footage. I came home carrying something no camera could hold.
And I'm already dreaming about where the next story will take me.
Interested in learning more about child sponsorship through World Vision's Chosen program? It might just change your life too.
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