Ghanaian poet born and raised in Takoradi, Ghana. He holds a Bachelor of Education (Arts) in English with History from the University of Cape Coast, where he also served as a Teaching Assistant in the Department of English. His poetry draws on personal experiences and extends to explore themes such as postcolonial memory, intergenerational trauma, religion, gender, etc.
His works have appeared or are forthcoming in notable journals, including Kalahari Review, Rigorous, Spillwords Press, Literary Yard, and All Poetry. His poems, “Echoes of the chain” and “Meditation on the coast” first published in Rigorous, have appeared in the maiden edition of the Ghana Poetry Festival Anthology. He was a finalist for the 2025 Adinkra Poetry Prize and a fellow of the Spring Writers Fellowship (9th Cohort).
Homecoming – Ancestors Answer Me Anthology
“Now I’ve been free, I know what a dreadful
condition slavery is.
I have seen hundreds of escaped slaves, but I never
saw one who was willing to go back and be a
slave.”
— Harriet Tubman, Abolitionist and Activist.
I.
darkness crept on the clouds; the sun sank behind the sea. night had already fallen, and fear
shot up in my face. but for the first time, it wasn’t fear of on which ship my body might be
hung
or the plantation I would trek in those rusted-iron chains the morrow. it wasn’t fear of
waking to see another brother’s blood soak the fields or whispering prayers to bury
another daughter, torn and raped. it wasn’t fear of fighting to see another sunrise
or whose lifeless son would be tossed off the ship.
it was…
It was just fear of the dark.
II.
the moon began to fade. the sun stretched and broke through the heavy white clouds,
uncovered, and sat on the Atlantic Ocean.
first, nodded to the waters, “good morning,” spreading its light across the waves,
then stepped gently to the shore, touched me with its golden rays,
and mirrored my melanin skin, the inheritance from those who came before me.
I stood between sea and sky, a shadow facing the horizon,
ready to go home,
to Elmina.
III.
I wrote my name, Mandela, on a beach in Baltimore, then the waves came,
calm yet loud.
I could hear the reverberations of her happiness.
I could hear her miming the songs of the balafon and djembe, from whence she came.
she washed my feet and carried my name. my face beamed,
as if the sun had risen in it.
at last, she’s taking me home,
she’s taking me
to Elmina.
