Homesickness (the word that does not exist)
by amara_osei · 24 June 2026 · Biography & Memoir
Amara compares the German word Heimweh with the Twi word ɔhaw — pain versus burden. An essay-poem about living in a foreign language.
There is no word for homesickness in Twi.
I only understood this when my fellow student Laura asked if I sometimes had it, and I nodded even though I wasn't sure whether it was true, because I didn't know what she meant. I knew the word. I knew it from books, from songs, from the German course at the University of Accra where our teacher taught us German grammar and sometimes a little bit of Germany. But knowing is not understanding.
In Vienna there are streets named after generals. I live near one of them. Every morning when I walk to university I read this name and think: this man occupied countries I know from school. I don't say this to anyone. It would make the conversation complicated and I've only been here eight months and my German isn't good enough for complicated conversations yet.
My grandmother in Accra still calls Vienna Europe. She says: how is it in Europe. I say: cold. That is the most honest answer I can give in the thirty seconds of phone time I can afford.
In Twi you say ɔhaw for longing, approximately. It also means worry, also burden, also the weight you carry when someone important to you is far away. It is broader than homesickness. It encompasses more.
The word Heimweh contains the word Weh. Pain. In German, longing for home is a pain. In Twi it is a burden you carry. I find the burden more honest. A pain passes. A burden stays. That feels truer.
Laura asked if I had homesickness and I nodded. What I meant was: I am carrying something. Ask me in a year.
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