“You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?”
– Kahlil Gibran

It was an early morning in 1997 and my siblings and I were woken up to prepare for school. Only this time, it wasn’t my mum who woke us up. It was my dad. “Where’s mummy?” we asked. “Not feeling well,” came the response. “Hurry up or you’ll be late for school”. The weeks that followed would be the first time I saw my mum cry and the only time I remember her going days without her usual cheery, pepsodent perfect, white smile. It was the year Mma Sana, my mum’s eldest sister, passed on.

It’s been 17 years since. I realized that in December last year while talking to a friend who was going through similar. I also realized that besides a few photos and captions, I’ve never actually written about her, this woman who influenced me so. As my friend put it:

“I feel like there are all these amazing Ghanaian, African women out there, quietly awesome. But we don’t put them out there so all the kids have when they have to think of great Ghanaian women is Yaa Asantewaa”.

He invited me to join him in changing that. I thought about it, started, held off, and now here we are.