Yesterday was your birthday.
Nana Kwame Nkrumah. The original Nana One.
I wanted to be in Nkroful this year, to honor you in the place where it all began. But I wasn’t able to make it — and for that, I apologize. Not just on my own behalf, but on behalf of all of us who say we are your children, your legacy, your people.
We owe you more.
Your life, your vision, your sacrifice, your commitment to Africa and African people — it laid the foundation for everything we now call repatriation, renaissance, revolution. It was your words and your example that lit the fire in so many of us to return. To rebuild. To reimagine what Africa could be, and who we could be in it.
For me personally, it was Neo-Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism that shifted my trajectory. That book disrupted me. It forced me to reframe the systems I was navigating. It helped me name the subtle ways oppression cloaks itself in diplomacy, contracts, policies, and partnerships. And it pushed me to step forward more intentionally, more strategically.
Even deeper than that — learning that you leaned on traditional African spirituality as part of your leadership grounded me in a way no textbook ever could. You reminded us that building a liberated Africa is not just a political or economic task — it’s a spiritual one. That liberation is both seen and unseen. Physical and metaphysical.
And so, with all of that — we must ask ourselves, truthfully:
Are we building something worthy of your name?
The storyline — the moral appeal — for why Ghana and other African nations should create direct pathways to citizenship, streamline land access, or offer us favorable business incentives is based on the belief that we, the Diaspora, bring a level of excellence, education, experience, and exposure that can help transform the continent.
We are supposed to be a catalyst.
A game-changer.
A force of renaissance and renewal.
But when we arrive, settle, and live like scattered ships without a shared destination — without unified strategy, without systems of accountability — what exactly are we building?
Too often, ego takes the seat instead of excellence.
Personality over performance.
Familiarity over skill.
Gossip over guidance.
And what should have been a movement… becomes a moment.
And the moment passes.
We must ask:
Are we truly extending your dream, Nana?
Are we walking in the values you modeled — courage, sacrifice, discipline, vision?
If not — what exactly are we doing here?
Because the sacred work of repatriation is not a trend. It’s not a hustle. It’s not just about relocating. It’s about transforming. Organizing. Uplifting. Building institutions — not just businesses. Structuring our lives in ways that honor the continent, not just consume it.
We don’t get to throw your name around if we’re not doing the work to live in alignment with what you stood for. And that work means showing up with consistency, not chaos. With clarity, not confusion. With excellence, not entitlement.
We can’t just bring ourselves and think that’s enough.
We must bring value.
Value that is visible. Measurable. Scalable.
Value rooted in respect for the local culture and people, but that also challenges mediocrity wherever it lives — even in us.
And part of that value has to come from how we work with each other. We say we believe in Pan-Africanism, but too many of us struggle to support anyone who doesn’t move the way we move, speak the way we speak, or shine the way we want to shine.
If someone is more equipped, more experienced, more ready — we must put them in the seat. Let them lead. And support them fiercely, without envy or sabotage. That is how we win. That is how we build.
We have to stop measuring ourselves against each other and instead measure ourselves against the mission.
That’s the metric.
That’s the mirror.
So Nana… I’m still here. I haven’t given up. But I won’t lie — this is hard work. It’s spiritual warfare. It’s psychological warfare. It’s economic warfare. And sometimes the resistance doesn’t just come from the outside — it comes from within our own ranks.
That’s why I need your help.
I need you to keep working from the ancestral realm.
To help guide me. To protect me.
To give me the clarity and strength to stay on course.
To keep my ego in check and my heart pure.
To help me navigate the distractions, the disappointments, the delays — and still move with power and purpose.
I want you to know that everything I’ve poured into Ghana — from the Year of Return to the development of Nyame Bekyere, to the Triangle Offense Policy, to the Adinkra Group and our repatriation work — it’s my offering.
It’s my attempt to be a worthy continuation of the dream you sacrificed so much for.
Happy Birthday, Nana.
We see you.
We need you.
And I pray that we rise to honor you in action, not just in word.
We’re still in the fight.
And I’m not done yet.
