Oko and Akweley behind their special table set up for them during the Twins Festival of the Ga people (A tribe located in the Greater Accra Region of Ghana). The table has the horns of the goat specially killed for them for the celebration, a bottle of local alcohol and eggs. Under the table is a bowl which contains specific leaves soaked in water which is later used to cleanse the twins to symbolise fresh birth and renewal of their spirits and more good luck.

The twins Festival precedes the Homowo celebrations. Twins are considered special and a sign of good luck in every home.

Photography by Ofoe Amegavie, 2014

The book I happen to have been reading for the past few days is Maya Angelou’s ‘All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes’. Accounts of her stay in Ghana. I skipped to the last page to read her farewell. It’s like a last farewell.. "A few days later at Accra’s airport I was surrounded by family and friends. Guy stood, looking like a young Lord of summer, straight, sure among his Ghanaian companions. Kwesi Brew, T.D. Baafoo and their wives were there to bid me farewell. Efua Sutherland and her children, Nana’s brood of six, Grace Nuamah and other colleagues from Legon, Sheikhali and Mamali, and some Nigerian acquaintances ed through the crowd. Julian hugged me, “Be strong, girl. Be very strong.” Nana’s car appeared on the tarmac, and coming through a private door he joined the well-wishers. I drank with each party, and gave and received generous embraces, but I was not so sad departing Ghana. Many years earlier I, or rather someone very like me and certainly related to me, had been taken from Africa by force. This second leave-taking would not be so onerous, for now I knew my people had never completely left Africa. We had sung it in our blues, shouted it in our gospel and danced the continent in our breakdowns. As we carried it to Philadelphia, Boston and Birmingham we had changed it’s colour, modified it’s rhythms, yet it was Africa which rode in the bulges of our high calves, shook in our protruding behinds and crackled in our wide open laughter. I could nearly hear the old ones chuckling.-Maya Angelou 
Rest In Peace

The book I happen to have been reading for the past few days is Maya Angelou’s ‘All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes’. Accounts of her stay in Ghana. I skipped to the last page to read her farewell. It’s like a last farewell.. 

"A few days later at Accra’s airport I was surrounded by family and friends. Guy stood, looking like a young Lord of summer, straight, sure among his Ghanaian companions. Kwesi Brew, T.D. Baafoo and their wives were there to bid me farewell. Efua Sutherland and her children, Nana’s brood of six, Grace Nuamah and other colleagues from Legon, Sheikhali and Mamali, and some Nigerian acquaintances ed through the crowd. Julian hugged me, “Be strong, girl. Be very strong.” Nana’s car appeared on the tarmac, and coming through a private door he joined the well-wishers. I drank with each party, and gave and received generous embraces, but I was not so sad departing Ghana. 

Many years earlier I, or rather someone very like me and certainly related to me, had been taken from Africa by force. This second leave-taking would not be so onerous, for now I knew my people had never completely left Africa. We had sung it in our blues, shouted it in our gospel and danced the continent in our breakdowns. As we carried it to Philadelphia, Boston and Birmingham we had changed it’s colour, modified it’s rhythms, yet it was Africa which rode in the bulges of our high calves, shook in our protruding behinds and crackled in our wide open laughter. 

I could nearly hear the old ones chuckling.
-Maya Angelou 

Rest In Peace