Reem wrote this poem on her return from Platform2, volunteering in Ghana:

Dear Tapa Amanya,

Maakye? Ete sen?

Well I already know that you’re fine.

I would love to bask in the false imagery of feeling me ho ye pa pa pa then!!!

But I cannot, so would rather numb my sorrow with palm wine!

It only seems like yesterday that I once marked your paprika complexioned soil with my loving footprints;
footprints that explored your depths, worshipping the collage of various vibrant green dyes exploding from your earth;

earth that conceived and nurtured the smoothest, cocoa coated bodies who welcomed me with open arms as we joyfully exchanged cultures;
culture that exploded with insatiable colours down to the finest detail garnished on the kente cloth modelled by mothers and wise grandmothers carrying offspring on their backs;
backs unbreakable, leathery hands, flesh bared with muscles as he chopped down the roots that cultivated civilisation and placed them on his head;

the head that she balanced cassava, yam and fruits on with which she tenderly raised;
yes raised were their palms as they sang out and journeyed through the sound waves of the drums to a spiritual paradise owned in the warm recesses of God’s embrace;
yes an embrace I held for you Tapa Amanya, for I yearn for the irritating bleating of the goats and sheep whilst I teach the spawn of our evolving generation.

The beating of the drums from the youthful hands in sinc with the clapping, singing and dancing;

whilst chalk to blackboard doth generate the seeds of knowledge that blossoms into brighter futures.

Exquisite, sweet fruits of Ghana, Banku with Okro stew, Jollof rice, return to me

Hiplife, Highlife, Reggae, Mapuka surge through my body as I wine to your penetrating bass

Children run to me once more and slap my hand as you shout ‘Obroni’
‘Obroni Coco’, ‘Abrafo’, ‘Obibini’, whichever way you desire it, taking sanctuary in my ear drums as an endless echoe, but now

I can almost hear the pounding of fufu
I can almost feel the pounding of your love
I can almost experience the pounding of your tropical heat, but
fear not for I am near

and I do believe that I shall persevere
to see you once more again my dear

yours sincerely,

Ama Serwaa