Yet when I am in America, I am nothing except African.
Who, in Texas, Tennesse, cares whether you are a Nubian or a Libyan; Omotswana or Omotsikere?
You all look and sound the same... and carry the same illness. Thats what, they say.
If I am in Europe, I am first an African - then I am Ghanaian second.
Europeans tend to appreciate the subtle differences among people from my continent.
And when I am in another African country - I am Ghanaian-African.
I like to express my Africanness through the uniqueness of being Ghanaian.
But at home, I am Ghanaian first, and then I am Ewe.
I am sustained by the Ewe blood. But I cannot present that in a vial to the immigration desk at Boryspol, Kiev.
"Паспорт Пожалуйста.!" - "Passport please!"
My full lips speak eloquently enough of my equatorial ancestry: of my place in the tropical sun; of what and who I am.
But for the avoidance of doubt, I shall say it one more time:
I am African; I am Ghanaian; I am Ewe and I am human.