This Kente Cloth belonged to my dad. It’s over 80 years old and travelled in his trunk when he made the journey from Ghana to the UK. Each handwoven Kente cloth is unique to a family and their history. It’s part of the cultural tradition of the Asante people and only worn on special occasions.
This annotated poem (written and translated from the Twi language by Nanahene Djan) resonates with me when I think of what this cloth represents for both my family and for me as a second generation individual:
Father loves his kente threads
Monday through to Saturday he sits behind his kente loom
And with love, patience and wisdom he weaves his Kente threads
On Sunday, he sits
He sits down quietly and admires how beautiful his Kente turned out
Each string has a role it plays in the Kente
It has what is says about the Kente
It has its part it tells in Kente’s story
Green is the end, whatever we plant, whatever we begin will grow and show its leaves, its fruits, its end.
Black is peace, in the morning we wake up weary, we walk through the afternoon with troubles but in the night, the darkness clears all worry from our minds
Blue is belief, no matter what happens to you or where you are, if you look up you will see the sky – you know that God lives up above
Yellow is purity, its exactly like gold, its sweet to the eyes and even the fingers know its scent. Nothing can contaminate it.
White is home, all that is in my soul I write onto a piece of paper, and when I do I can rest because I know the words of my soul are at home.
Blog by Megan El-Frensawi
