There are moments in life you can’t rehearse for—moments that demand you stand taller than your comfort zone, your résumé, and your carefully laid plans.
For me, becoming Nkosuohene—Chief of Development—of Nyame Bekyere, Ghana, was one of those moments. And it changed everything.
I didn’t come to Ghana looking for a throne, a title, or a headline. I came seeking connection—connection to my ancestors, my history, my purpose. What I found was more than a welcome. I was received as kin. And with that welcome came a charge: to build.
Not just buildings, but systems. Not just programs, but people. Not just for today, but for generations yet to come.
The Call Beneath the Title
In a time when traditional titles are sometimes handed out too easily or misused, I take mine seriously. Being Nana One is not a vanity project—it is a responsibility rooted in centuries of tradition, trust, and accountability. My enstoolment wasn’t ceremonial—it was a covenant.
This is why I speak out against the exploitation of African culture and the rise of “fake” chiefs and queen mothers. Titles should never be souvenirs for visitors—they are sacred trusts between a leader and their people.
My role is not to wear the regalia for photo opportunities. It is to build infrastructure, create opportunity, and preserve dignity. It is to work in partnership with elders, empower the youth, and protect the integrity of our cultural institutions.
Development With a Pulse
Too often, “development” in Africa is defined by outsiders—measured in currency and concrete. My definition is different. Development is measured in cultural preservation, in wellness, in dignity.
It’s a young person learning a skill that gives them purpose and income. Its elders who see their traditions honored, not erased. It’s diasporans returning home and finding a place they can belong without exploitation or false promises.
I’ve worked to make that definition a reality—whether through The Adinkra Group’s cultural programs, helping over 2,000 diasporans successfully relocate, or building the Nyame Bekyere Community Center as a hub for growth and connection.
The Hard Truths of Repatriation
Coming home to Africa isn’t a fairy tale. There are real challenges—land scams, corruption, cultural misunderstandings, and bureaucratic roadblocks. I don’t sugarcoat these realities because I believe in preparing people for success, not selling them dreams.
Repatriation requires humility, respect, and a willingness to learn as much as you contribute. It’s about building with the community, not on top of it. That is the only path to a future where the African diaspora is not just visiting Africa, but reintegrating into African society with honor and reciprocity.
Why I Build
When people ask what drives me, the answer is simple: the goal is healing. Personal healing. Ancestral healing. Community healing.
My work is not charity—it is kinship. It’s the labor of legacy. It’s the belief that our liberation is a group project, and that when one of us rises, we all rise.
I use everything I’ve learned—every lesson, every experience, every skill—to build not only for Nyame Bekyere, but for my people everywhere. This is more than a development project—it’s a bridge. A bridge between the African continent and its diaspora. A bridge between history and the future.
A Message to Those Who Will Listen
If you are a leader, policymaker, philanthropist, educator, or visionary—hear me clearly: the African diaspora is coming home. Not as tourists. Not as investors alone. But as a family, ready to contribute, ready to integrate, ready to heal.
The question is—will we be ready to receive them in a way that honors our traditions and builds a sustainable future?
My life’s work is to ensure the answer is yes.
And I am ready to share that vision with the world—in rooms where decisions are made, on stages where minds can be moved, and in communities ready to take action.
Because this journey is not mine alone—it is ours. And the time is now.
