I have spent more than half of my life in the United States of America all the while fearing losing myself, my story, my identity, perhaps my soul. Establishing the Witness Tree Institute, and listening to it rise like the thrill one feels playing a new minted LP for the first time, fills me with gratitude.
Tete, leading the WTIG cohort through the Kakum National Park canopies
I have always had Ghana in my heart, and like the prodigal son, I have returned time and time again. My love for Ghana is not about flags or a play with patriotism and posturing. It is about my identity and the complicated identities of my children and grandchildren. It is about the booming “Akwaaba” of Kwashie Kuwor, Eric’ Awauh’s eloquent embrace of witnessing, Kofi Antonio’s warm cadence, Sena Atsuga’s smoothness and grace, Elizabeth Aikins’ assuring touch on my elbow saying “your sister is here,” Oforiwaa’s passionate singing, my wife’s warm smile as she says, “ Wow, we’ve been married for 37 years!” my late parents shadows, Nii Ntwaako’s welcoming breakfast gifts, the welcome of friends asking “Have you arrived yet?” Pash’s brief look of seriousness saying, “ Mo! Well done!”
Tete’s wife, Liz holding a coconut at Kakum Park
It is these which have sustained me, my joys guided by my ancestral proverbs, the laughter of my siblings, the sorrows of the insides of Elmina, the soft reproach of my grandmother, and the mysterious emptiness left by a grandfather I didn’t meet, the still pulsing love of my parents, oh, and the losses and and losses on which my faith stands.
All these years, almost 40 years in Massachusetts, I have learned well, how to straddle two worlds, and watched my children, born from the imprint of Ghana and the melody of the USA, like little learning bears, straddle both worlds too.
View of the seashore from Cape Coast Castle
So with gratitude for those unchained and a heart that never stopped longing, I claim you again, my birthplace. I claim you today and for awhile, old friend. Will you claim me? Freya Manfred’s poem keeps running in my head since I arrived a few days ago to your shores. Old friend. Will you claim me too?
The 2021 WTIG cohort at Cape Coast Castle
Old Friends
Old friends are a steady spring rain,
or late summer sunshine edging into fall,
or frosted leaves along a snowy path—
a voice for all seasons saying, I know you.
The older I grow, the more I fear I'll lose my old friends,
as if too many years have scrolled by
since the day we sprang forth, seeking each other.
Old friend, I knew you before we met.
I saw you at the window of my soul—
I heard you in the steady millstone of my heart
grinding grain for our daily bread.
You are sedimentary, rock-solid cousin earth,
where I stand firmly, astonished by your grace and truth.
And gratitude comes to me and says:
"Tell me anything and I will listen.
Ask me anything, and I will answer you."
–Tete