TRENT Magazine/Trent Voices Interview: Anita Erskine '99

The June 2021 edition of TRENT Magazine featured a cover story/interview with Trent alumna and Ghanaian media star, Anita Erskine '99. We’re pleased to offer the full extended interview in podcast format.

Anita Erskine is ranked one of the Top 100 Most Influential Women in Africa, one of the Top 100 Most Inspirational Women in Ghana, and one of the most inspirational Ghanaian public figures. She’s also a Trent University alumna. Wearing a host of hats, Ms. Erskine is a strategic communications specialist, broadcast journalist, television producer and host. This diversity has cemented her reputation as one of the most versatile communication professionals from West Africa.

In 2020, Ms. Erskine joined the Africa Netpreneur Prize Initiative as both host and advisor. She’s also lent her voice and personality to numerous social impact projects due to her unwavering belief in the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals’ mantra of not leaving anyone behind. Ms. Erskine was born in Jerusalem and grew up in Ghana. She joined TRENT Magazine for an interview from Ghana.

TRENT Magazine: What drew a young Ghanaian woman to a small university in Peterborough, Ontario?

Anita Erskine: You know, failure has a powerful way of setting us on the path that the universe wants us to follow. In 1997, I knew that I wanted to pursue my education in broadcasting, in journalism, that sort of thing. I had to take a two-year break after high school, but I got into a fabulous internship program with a local TV station called Metro TV. Now, because Metro was really powerful at the time, and had great internet, I had the opportunity to research, research, research. But I talk about failure because the first three universities I applied for, I will not mention them, didn’t accept me because I didn’t have the best high school grades. And then I happened on Trent University. Not to say Trent accepted me even though I didn’t have good high school grades, but Trent asked a question about who I wanted to be. This was the first time a university had asked me a question about who and what I wanted to be. And I answered the question in my application, and it turned my life around. Even in that moment, when I didn’t know if I would be accepted or not, I knew that this university had something to offer.

Plus, Peterborough was far, far, far away from the city of Toronto. I had family in Toronto, and I wanted independence. I really wanted to be by myself, on my own, in a place where I would discover myself. So, when the letter came in, Trent University accepting me, I didn’t even think twice. I didn’t even wait for the two or three other universities that needed to get back to me. I just knew, and I said to my parents, “Peterborough.” And they said, “What, where?” I said, “Peterborough, it’s somewhere in…” “But how will we find you, my dear?” And I said, “Mom, Dad, you will find me when you’re looking for me, but I’m off to Peterborough.” And, as they say, the rest is history.

TM: You told me that getting ready for this interview felt like the first time you got on the Greyhound bus to go to Peterborough and Trent University. Tell us a little about that Greyhound bus experience, and then what you found when you got off the bus.

AE: I had done a bit of travelling, but never on my way to a place far, far away; and on my way to a place that I didn’t know. It looked great in pictures and brochures, but it was a place that I completely had no clue of. But that experience, it was an hour and a half of me thinking and dreaming what my life would become. I was on my way to a place that was really different from where I’d grown up. I was on my way to a place where I had no family, no friends. But, in my heart, I felt that this would give me an opportunity to mold my future.

I wanted to break every boundary in front of me. I wanted to be a global icon. I wanted to be this great person who could teach her own life lessons. I remember telling myself, on that bus, that, if in four years, I didn’t come to feeling that Trent University had prepared me for this life that I have now, that I would immediately apply to another university and continue my life from there.
And then I thought: “What if I go to this place and it’s literally only Caucasians. What do I do? What if there are no Ghanaians? What if there are no Africans? What if the people don’t like me? What if this is a big mistake I’ve made?”

But I can assure you that the “what ifs” were way fewer than the excitement about what I was going to get out of it—what I hoped to get out of it. So, it wasn’t all fear. It was a very positive excitement. An extremely powerful anxiety. And my intuition just kept kicking in to say: “You are going to the right place.”

TM: Coming from Ghana, you must have seen the university, and the community that houses it, through very different eyes than most students. Describe your perceptions of Trent, and your Trent experience.

AE: Trent taught me more about Africa than I had learnt about Africa when I lived on the continent. When I walked into the Trent International Program office, I saw and met people from Kenya, from Tanzania, from Zimbabwe, from South Africa, from Egypt, from Morocco. It was just so beautifully colourful. Two or three days after getting to Trent, I walked into that office and saw people who were just like me, on a very similar path—a path of “lonely discovery” —where you’re discovering yourself, but you’re also on your own. And forging powerful alliances. I was blown away by the beautiful Africans, from a plethora of countries, that I came to know. Today, many of them are my good friends. I was given the experience of their culture, through food, through music, through conversation. And this was all happening on this very interesting Trent campus. I didn’t know much about Kenya. I learned about Kenya from Trent. I didn’t know much about the southern part of Africa, because when you say South Africa, you think of one country. I discovered that the southern part of Africa is all these wonderful smaller, smaller countries.

I don’t even think that I saw Trent as a place that had a majority of Caucasian students. I didn’t see that because [for me] it just became a wonderful community of different people. Even people from Canada were themselves so diverse, from Europeans to Americans, I could go on, and on, and on. And I was so blown away by this melting pot of cultures and traditions. So, Trent became home. And you know that thought of wanting to go global that I had on the bus? I felt like, “Ah! This is why I’m here!” You cannot go global if you don’t understand people, their cultures, their languages and their characteristics. This is what Trent gave to me.

TM: You are now one of the 100 Most Influential Women in Africa, a renowned television producer, host, journalist and social and political advocate. There are a lot of steps in between being a Trent cultural studies grad and a household name across the continent. What were some of the early roles that got you started?

AE: I had been at Trent for almost three years. I knew and I felt there was something more I needed to do. The power of exploration is such that you cannot come all the way from Africa to North America and not discover yourself, not discover your place, not discover the country. I did know that what I wanted to do was related to diversity. It was related to the culture of my people. It was related to this emerging, and really huge, global emergence of Africa. It was 2001; I didn’t know that, down the line, that I’d be doing what I do. But I got on a Greyhound once again and headed to Toronto, where I had applied for an internship with Canada’s first urban, 100% Black-owned radio station, Flow 93.5, owned by Milestone Radio, with Denham Jolly as the CEO.
Flow was a place where I had to unlearn all of the things that I thought I wanted to be, and learn all of the things that I needed to be. At Flow, I learned how to be a voice for the voiceless. I learned how to prioritize my dreams and ambitions. I learned how to not be so worried, and to not be overly conscious of my Blackness. At the same time, I learned how to be proud of who I was, a 100% African global citizen in the making, who would use her voice to teach people about, not just the African people, but about the power of resilience. I learned all of this at Flow as a young intern, because the whole institution, Milestone Radio, was built on the opportunity to be a first—just as Milestone was the first to be 100% Black-owned. And not just to grab onto that position, but to also use that position to inspire many more cultures, many more people, to be first at whatever it is they were doing. Radio, as we’re doing it now, has the power of educating. Radio goes miles, and miles, and miles. It has a power of reaching people in corners of the earth that sometimes, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t know us, wouldn’t hear us. And that would be my first gig.

I walked into this radio station of as a person of colour—as an African person of colour wanting to break through the North American market. Today, when I look back at it, I think: “Girl, what were you thinking? You were only 20, 21? Like, please. I mean, join the line.” But at the time, I was, like, “Yo! I’m here from Peterborough! Peterborough has taught me how to be pan-African, man! I’m going to use this radio station and tell the entire world about Africa.” I learned a lot about myself all over again, because there were challenges. It was a new space. Toronto was very different from Peterborough.
Peterborough was so easy, so small. At every corner of the street, you met a friend. On every bus, you saw your pal. In every supermarket, you saw your girlfriend. But Toronto was this big, big city; and I had to rediscover myself. I had to convince myself that this really was what the world looked like. It’s big. It’s huge. You can be lost in it. That one first gig taught me the power of resilience, and taught me the importance of my voice and what I could use it for. I ended up learning how to apply it to my future goal.

TM: Looking back at some of the television programming that you’ve been part of, Sheroes of Our Time, Making of a Mogul, Pamper Your Mum—and your work with Anita Erskine Media and with other organizations—there’s this pattern of trying to showcase, empower and advocate for girls and women. Where does that passion come from?

AE: That passion comes from having only a Plan A. In my life I’ve always said, “I will never be a teacher. I will never be a doctor. I will never be a nurse. I will never be a lawyer. I will only ever be this person that you’re speaking to right now. I will only ever be this person that the world is beginning to discover right now. I’ll only ever be this person that people will listen to, and hope that her authenticity and her originality can inspire.” And I remember having my first child in 2008. Before that, I had started on my career path and was really happy. I had split my life between Toronto and Accra. I was six months in Toronto, or maybe eight months in Toronto, and four months in Accra, discovering Ghana all over again. In 2008, I had to pause because I was pregnant with my daughter. I didn’t know what to do, because I had been, from the age of 14, on this tangent of wanting to break through. At 20, I knew. I was in Toronto and knew what I wanted to do. At 24, I was still in Toronto. I was getting to where I wanted to be. Then, in 2008, I came to Ghana, fell pregnant with my daughter, and realized that, for the first time, I was not in control of what my body was doing. And I didn’t know how I would be accepted. I had these TV shows, including one major TV show at the time, on Pan-African TV. But I didn’t know, as a woman, how I would be accepted, because the norm was to hide in your pregnancy. Not necessarily hide, literally, but to take it easy. But I didn’t want to take it easy, because regardless of how I felt physically, or emotionally, or mentally, I knew there was work to be done.

The difficulties in that time of my life, having my daughter, then having my son, then having to figure out my cross-continental or my pan-continental life, taught me that, if I was going through this, then surely other women were going through it too. If I felt that the company, where I was working at the time, was spitting me out because I just couldn’t keep up with the eight hours—and I definitely couldn’t keep up with the overtime—then a lot of women were going through the same thing. I felt that, even during maternity leave, so many opportunities were literally flying above my head, like a helicopter. I could see them, I could feel them, I could hear them, but I just didn’t have the encouragement to approach them because I was a mother, and the expectations were that I needed that time off. It was so frustrating. I just kept feeling that, at every single turn, there was a very important lesson that I was learning about being a woman; a very important lesson the world was teaching me about not being able to embrace the nature of being a woman. It was very annoying, very frustrating, and very dehumanizing. I remember coming back from maternity leave after I had my son, and saying to myself: “Never, ever, will I let something that is supposed to be celebrated and embraced make me feel like half the human being that the good Lord has created me to be.” And I asked: “So, Anita, what are you going to do? Are you just going to lament? Are you going to be angry at this? Are you going to be mentioning this at every interview about how some opportunity was taken away from you? Or are you going to use your wisdom—tap into that wisdom—and turn your platforms into educational platforms?” And that’s where it began.

From Making of a Mogul, which celebrates the real hustle of entrepreneurs on the continent (which is my story); to Pamper Your Mum, which reaches out to women in marginalized parts of the continent to encourage them out of the situation they find themselves in (which is my story); to Sheroes of Our Time, about women who have finally been able to figure out that powerfully dotted line that needs to be beautifully stitched together to take them to their ultimate destinations (which is my story), I realized that I was going to use every single one of my platforms, every single one of them, to celebrate one aspect of women. Girls’ education comes into play because I realized that, without the power of education, our girls have no idea how extraordinary they are. Which is why, even though I celebrate women, and I create shows that celebrate women, and I’m sure that I use my voice to celebrate and encourage women, there’s also the importance for me to talk about our girls. Because our girls are us in a few years. We must ensure that they become, not just like us, but even better than us.

It’s also important because there are so many areas on this wonderful continent where girls do not have access to education. So that’s the other side of my focus: to ensure that we understand. I help the world understand how imperative it is for girls to be encouraged to live their dreams through education.

TM: What does sustainable development in Ghana mean to you? And what do you think it means for the country that houses you?

AE: Sustainable development is a very crucial conversation for us, because, beyond being this very promising continent, we are also a hugely globally-accepted emerging market. Let’s just take a couple of goals, for example; we’re spoiled for choice, as there are 17 goals [in the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals]. My focus is goal number four, quality education, and goal number five, gender equality. These are not just goals for Ghana, or goals for West Africa. They are goals for the world. And goals for the world also mean that, as we are on this side of the world, this emerging market, we’re able to tap into what the world deems an absolute necessity. We’re able to tap into what the world deems an urgency. And it goes beyond just being able to say, “Hey, you know what? We’ve got programs and projects that are inspired by the sustainable goals.” It goes into reaching out to the Americas, reaching out to Europe, reaching out to Asia to ask about the common issues that we all have, the common issues that our women are facing. How can we help each other to help our women advance? How can we help each other to ensure that our governments prioritize education, but also prioritize education for girls? It means that we are able to fight a global battle that also helps us to advance ourselves. It also means that beyond fighting the global battle, or beyond being able to tap into what the world is setting as a goal, that we are also able to learn. We are also able to borrow ideas. We’re also able to lean into developed countries and how they’ve done what we want to try to do. We can learn from each other.

I have to take two minutes to really say a big congratulations to the Canadian High Commission in Ghana, because there are so many projects that the Canadian High Commission is spearheading around these Sustainable Development Goals, particularly gender equality and quality education. As you can see, even though I’m far away from Canada right now, I’m still very much at home.

TM: How does Trent continue to inform and to guide you as you do your work, a continent away?

AE: In cultural studies, we learned the art of opening our minds. In 1999, Professor Sean Kane—I remember that class like it was yesterday—walked into the auditorium and said: “Just open your mind. Just open your mind! Unlearn all the learned!” And I said, “Who is this fine man speaking great things into my ear?” At Trent, the individual classes taught me about focus. That’s where I want to take it from, because, you see, it’s not all in isolation. It’s all really, very much stitched together.

Trent is a big fabric of very, very different experiences for me, all stitched together. It’s a beautiful quilt. In terms of my classes, I had professors who allowed us to speak the truth about our fears. They didn’t necessarily single out the Africans, but they were really conscious that, for some of us, this whole Trent and Peterborough experience was really new. And they were so eager to help us feel at home by allowing us to kind of mold the place into what we saw as ideal for us.

And I remember Prof. Sean Kane. He said, “Listen. Tell the story of Africa with pride.” So, all my assignments were about one particular African experience or another; and you would see his eyes beam whenever I had to submit an essay. He would read it and it felt like I was taking him on a whole different experience. I was taking him travelling. How and what that did for me? It sowed pride. It enhanced the pride. It highlighted the pride. And it made me feel that, under no circumstance, must I feel ashamed to come from a part of the world that many feel is underdeveloped.

What Trent also taught me was that, if I wanted to be great, I needed to stand up and stand out. You can never be great by folding your arms, acknowledging something with a nod, and then shrugging your shoulders and saying: “Well that’s not my problem. That’s someone else’s problem.” Trent taught me the power of speaking up, regardless of what it was. And it didn’t only have to do with speaking up to my African friends, or about Africa. No, about anything. Nothing was ever hidden.

At Trent, I remember walking into the Bata Library—this was in my first semester—and just looking at this big library; and one of the librarians, or one of the students working in the library, walking up to me and saying, “So, what are you trying to discover today?” And you know what? I remember all of this because, today, when I walk into a big place, and it feels huge, I hear such voices. “Anita, what do you want to discover today?” When I’m given an opportunity, very much like what you’re giving me today, to talk about who I am, who I’ve become, I think about Prof. Kane telling me that, “You don’t have to try to tell anybody else’s story. Tell yours. Tell yours. It will make sense, and it will teach somebody about who you are.”

Trent gave me the real foundation. Listen, I sowed some major seeds at Trent. I sowed a seed of passion at Trent. I sowed a seed of vision at Trent. Even my part-time jobs as a telemarketer, telling people about the Trent Alumni Association. Today, when I get emails from them, I think: “Oh my God! What a life! This used to be me!” There we so many different lessons that urged me to be bold, urged me to stand up, and urged me to run—like how I used to run for the Trent bus—urged me to run, run after what I truly believed in.

Before I came to Trent, I knew I wanted to be something great. But, for four years at Trent, I learned that it’s not just about knowing that you want to do something great, it’s about working towards it. It’s about getting people to listen. It’s about nurturing your dreams, not just as words, but as a reality, as something for people to believe in. It’s about being so proud of who you are, and where you’re coming from, that you can stand in front of a class of 20, 30, 40 people and take them on a mental journey of who you are, where you come from, what you eat, and where you’re going. I’m covered by this quilt wherever I go. And it doesn’t matter about what point in my life I am at, what I’m doing, which country I’m in: there’s this very important third skin. I call it the Trent skin. The third skin that is all around me; that I use, not just to cover myself, and protect myself, but when I stand up, stand straight, be bold, and tell the world: “This is what I believe in. And I do hope that what I believe in also helps you believe in what you believe.” That’s what Trent did for me.