Instead, the book is about colonialism, its economic and psychosocial legacy, and the destruction of a country by the growing commodification of life, expressed in part through corruption but also through growing social hierarchies, the desire to be like the coloniser, and the impotence of a coup d'etat focused in curing the system by purging it of personalities instead of the structural determinants of the social, moral, political, and economic decay of the country.
First, in the desire to worship European and modern commodities such as cars, washing machines, and other electronic gadgets; the urge to consume and act as the coloniser by drinking bottled drinks; the broadcast of messages about buying and selling--all this while trying to appear 'African' through dress, but also empty in talk about Africanism.
Throughout the book, we learn how the coloniser segregated Sekondi-Takoradi as a city, reserving the best and flourishing part to the Whites with the Bungalow culture pitched on the hills of the city where there was an abundance and even waste in terms of fruits that hanged but never touched by Black people who had to make do with unripened fruits in a culture of 'servants', 'security guards', and racism/hierarchies.
The person sounds true; pan African, knowing that power really lies with the people and hence not pretending to speak like the coloniser.
Decolonizing Methodologies was not written with us in mind, however, and Smith makes no concessions to potential coloniser readers, not even `post-colonialists': "the fashion of post-colonialism [may have] become a strategy for reinscribing or reauthorizing the privileges of non-indigenous academics" (p 24).
So would it not be a more significant contribution to coloniser-indigenous reconciliation if our coloniser identities were made explicit while making such an attempt?
The decolonisation of our methodologies will require a lot more than commitment from coloniser researchers.