What Is Your Father's Name?

That's what the tall ebony complected man asked me. He spoke in a language called Twi (pronounced tree). I had to answer in English because my limited vocabulary did not permit me to speak in his native tongue. I had to say that I didn't know. That I was from the United States, and that all I knew is that Someone Somewhere came from Africa. The words bu as they escaped my mouth. It felt like the spotlight was on us, our conversation. Today was the first time that I actually felt lost, and unaware of myself. Why is it that I do not know where I come from. What is my father's name. To say Craig would be erroneous. He looked at me and told me that I looked like a Ghanaian, he said I had  the skin color and the shape of my nose was a dead giveaway. I'm not sure how accurate he was but it was nice to have a home for a brief moment in time. I almost felt embarrassed that I didn't know my people. Here in Ghana, your name and clan is everything. It determines everything from your last name to the language you speak at home, even your inheritance. It is filled with such rich tradition that I long to be apart of. That's why I changed my name to Akosua ( Aah-co-See-ah). It's based on the day I was born, Sunday. Most girls have a name such as this as the middle name. All of this makes me really want to trace my family's history. I understand that it won't be a hundred percent accurate because of the unfortunate circumstances that African slaves were placed under. Families were separated, languages were lost, and somewhere down the line the blood of white slave masters was mixed in. But it would be nice to a have a general idea, so I don't have to falsely claim an identity. Its nice to pic a place on the map and decide that I want "pretend" that I am descended from any particular place. But that's just to compensate for the fact that I have no idea at all.

That's all for now,
AJ