On April 1, 2026, I received one of the shortest phone calls of my career. “Adobea, do you have a passport?” I said yes. The call ended.

No explanation, no details, just curiosity hanging in the air. My mind started racing. Was I travelling? Where to? For what? I even let my imagination wander to Dubai, maybe with the NSMQ team. But reality soon set in.

Later that day, I got my answer: Dakar, Senegal. I had been selected to cover the Dakar International Forum on Peace and Security in Africa, a major annual event that brings together leaders and security experts from across the continent. JoyNews had been invited, and I was going.

Excitement kicked in immediately, but so did nerves. This would be my first time travelling by air

The Journey Begins

On April 19, I set off from Accra, escorted to the airport by my mum and sister. After navigating my way through Kotoka International Airport and making it to the boarding gate, reality finally sank in: I was really doing this.

With the help of a flight attendant, I found my seat and settled in. It wasn’t a direct flight; we made a stop in Lomé first.

That was my first real encounter with a fully French-speaking environment.

From the signage to the announcements to the casual conversations around me, everything was in French. It was a bit overwhelming at first, but I managed. I went through transit procedures and waited for the next flight.

An hour later, boarding was announced, in French first, then English. That pattern would become very familiar.

After nearly four hours in the air, we landed at Aéroport International Blaise Diagne in Dakar. And once again, French everywhere.

Finding My Feet in Dakar

Thankfully, I wasn’t completely lost. My basic French became my lifeline.

At the airport, I met the team assigned to receive us. We exchanged pleasantries in French, and then I politely asked if they could switch to English where possible. That became my survival strategy, start in French, then ease into English.

It worked more often than I expected. Many people could speak at least a little English, enough to meet me halfway.

From the airport, we were transported by bus to the hotel. At reception, the same pattern repeated, French first, then a smooth transition to English.

After checking in, I headed to my room, settled in, and then went down for dinner. First things first, I had to let my people back home know I had arrived safely.

Then came my first real cultural shock. The sockets. Two-pin plugs. Everywhere. All my devices? Three-pin.

I paused for a second, then quickly called reception. Again, French first, then English. I explained my situation, and within minutes, a staff member brought me an adapter. Problem solved. Small win.

Another adjustment was the weather. Dakar was cooler than I expected, and hot water quickly became my best friend.

Work Mode: On

The next morning, it was back to business.

After breakfast, we boarded a bus to the conference centre. Coordination was smooth, thanks to a dedicated WhatsApp group that kept everyone informed.

At the forum itself, language remained the biggest hurdle, but also the most interesting part of the experience.

Most interactions started in French. If you understood, great. If not, people made an effort to switch to English. It was a constant dance between two languages.

Inside the main auditorium, English-speaking participants were given headsets for live translation, because many of the speakers delivered their presentations in French.

Despite the language barrier, the work didn’t slow down.

I filed ledes to the JoyNews newsroom, joined live Zoom links when called upon, and reported in real time from the event. It was intense, fast-paced, and honestly, exhausting, but that’s the job.

On the second day, I put together a full wrap for the prime news bulletin, capturing the key moments of the forum. It felt like a proper finish line after two demanding days.

The Unexpected Challenges

If language was one challenge, internet connectivity was another.

Wi-Fi was only available at the hotel and the conference venue. The moment we stepped out or got on the bus, I was offline.

Data roaming didn’t work for me, no matter how many times I tried. Eventually, I gave up and learned to work around it.

It wasn’t ideal, especially as a journalist who relies heavily on real-time updates, but it forced me to adapt quickly.

What I Took Away

Beyond the assignments, the deadlines, and the logistics, one lesson stood out clearly. Being bilingual is not a luxury; it’s an advantage.

My basic French didn’t just help me survive, it helped me connect, navigate, and do my job effectively in a completely different environment.

And that’s a lesson I’m taking seriously.

Because next time, I don’t just want to cope.

I want to belong.