As a child, I remember Akua used to carry you on her back as a child.
She never left home without you.
You became her companion.
Her cherished one.
With your flat head and small eyes,
you would look at her with an expressionless stare.
A wave of depth went through the lines that lead from the dents of your cheeks to the tiny of your nose.
Your lips, the shape of uncle Kwaku’s canoe, were always shut tight; dead Silence, yes, Silence of the dead.
Great listeners, yes, a great listener Silence was.
Akua would intricately place you in the middle of her back and with mama’s ntomapa, tie you in a knot.
I must say, you really did know how to make Akua look beyond her age.
Osii woy3 neba.
Mother of fertility. Bringer of joy to Akua.
Akua did well to bathe you as a child, and now you have bathed her with many children.
Your sun-disk head always did well to tell us of your wisdom.
And your tinny breast never refused to remind us of your womanhood and grace.
Your long and skinny wooden legs did pay homage to our mother,
In supplication, your hands extend warm blessings to mankind.
Akua woay3 adi3.
Akua wahw3 womma so.
Akuaba, the child of mother nature.
You have made many a child happy.
And in their happiness, you have blessed them with many a child.
Today Akua ne Ba is being named.
Oh what a glorious day it is because AkuaBa kept her say.