No one can kidnap your beliefs, if you believe them with every bone of your body. No one can shackle your will, Kofi.

My brother, Kwasi, was murdered too, I say, realizing that this is the first time I have thought of him, on the ship. He was planning to go to the town of Bonwire to study kente weaving. If he had left, he would still be here.

I am very sorry, Kofi.

It happened right in front of me. And they left him for dead. I do not want to forget him.

The healers say that Ayiye welcomes ancestors home, magnifies our precious memories, and brings peace to us.

Well, he did not get Ayiye, so there can be no peace.

Then let us have our funeral.

That is not possible.

Oh, but it is.

I do not understand.

We do not need the body to honor the spirit of a man.

…

Let us celebrate Kwasi, Owu, my unnamed child, and all the decent men, here, now.

But how?

With a praise song.

What will we say?

Let us call their memories to each other now. Then we will speak whatever it is that we feel, yes?

Yes.

A PRAISE SONG

for

He who is firstborn son of Addo and Efe

He who is powerful Asante birthed by Mensah

He who is noble brother with righteous heart

He who is sleek in body

He who is tall and beautiful

He who is gifted with cunning and grace

He who is magnificent doer

and cistern of bravery

lantern of wit

and clarion of joy

He who is dreamer of reds and gold

black jewel of my parents’ pride.

Loud talker and joker,

best friend to all, but especially to me.

Kwasi, Brother Kwasi, how I miss you,

once river of great strength,

where you flow now

there is no end,

and this fight is not over.

This is a praise song for

He who is kindred soul

He who walks with gentle swagger

He who carries me in his arms like water

He who is protector, now humbly watching over

He who is innocent child

He who not long sprang from my loins.

Radiant son.

Though I have eyes, I am blinded

by a vision that no longer sees you

Two souls that stand guard

Where are your faces my loves?

They say that those who loved you

return to you in dreams.

Each nightfall I will look for you

climb the highest mountains

search every shadow on Earth.

Where you roam now

there are no hunters

and good deeds are the currency.

I am better because of you,

richer in purpose

and praise.

Hail to you

Owu and Two Fish

the decent men

bold like fire

your embers lighting

our way

This is a praise song

for hammerers of hope

carving a life of good

for the strong men

who will keep coming

for the departed

for the beautiful ones

For the beautiful ones yet unborn