A voyage through traditions: Whispers of the future

By NELLY DELA MENSAH
As Ayikailey placed the last of the groceries on the kitchen counter, Addae reached for a ripe mango from the bag and handed it to her.
She smiled, knowing he had picked it just for her—he always remembered the little things.
She leaned against the counter, cradling her belly. “She’s moving a lot today,” she murmured.
Addae stepped closer, resting his palm gently over her belly.
A moment passed before a small, fluttering kick met his hand.
His lips parted in awe, just as they had the first time he felt their child move.

Honoring heritage
“This reminds me of something,” he said, his voice thoughtful.
He pulled out a small, worn pendant from his pocket—a simple wooden carving of an Adinkra symbol, Eban, meaning safety and security.
He ran his fingers over it before handing it to her.
“My grandmother gave this to me on the day of my outdooring ceremony.
She told me that it would remind me where I come from, no matter where life takes me. I want to give it to our daughter when she is born.”
Ayikailey traced the smooth surface of the pendant, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“But Addae…what if she isn’t a girl?” she teased, lifting her gaze to meet his.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Even if it’s a boy, the meaning doesn’t change. Our child will know where they come from.”
Preparing for the journey
She smiled, moved by his certainty and by the way he honored tradition.
“Then we must make sure we prepare adequately for the journey—to go to your hometown for the ceremony.”
Addae nodded, his arm slipping around her waist.
“Yes. It is important. Our child must be welcomed into this world the right way.”
Ayikailey pressed the pendant to her heart, silently promising that, no matter what, their child would grow up knowing she was deeply loved—by her family here and the ancestors who came before them.
She let out a soft sigh, her fingers still tracing the contours of the pendant.
She had no doubt in her heart—this child was a girl.
She could already see her: a bright-eyed, spirited little one with an unstoppable curiosity, the kind of child who would be wise beyond her years.
She imagined her daughter growing into a strong, intelligent young woman, rooted in tradition yet unafraid to carve her own path.
There was something unshakable about the feeling, as though the ancestors themselves whispered it into her soul.
“She will be a force, Addae,” Ayikailey murmured, her voice brimming with certainty.
“She will be bold like my mother, wise like your grandmother, and kind like you.
She will honor the ways of our people, but she will also dream beyond them. I just know it.”
She looked up at her husband, her eyes shining. “And we will guide her every step of the way.”