Bɛ flɛ’m Kofi.

In a canoe on River Nzi

The moon paints my reflection on water top.

Something under water watches me.

Its eyes, yellow, its hair, red, its mouth, full of water.

I steady my oar and return its gaze.

Ɛzi mi ɔ?

Bɛ flɛ’m Kofi.

A current smashes into my canoe, spilling me into a grave,

I walk through darkness, feet crunching bones.

Something opens its mouth to swallow me.

Its mouth wide, its teeth large, its eyes full of maggots.

I dive into its mouth head first.

Ɛzi mi ɔ?

Bɛ flɛ’m Kofi.

I am spit out on the shores of Axim

Rain beats me into submission till I am swept back to sea.

I am fish in a net trudged across the ocean floor, 

Slapped against sand till I am battered cod

I walk barefoot till water turns to vines,

I amble through trees under moonlight,

Singing my mother’s song,

Something whispers in the wind.

I whisper back.

Bɛ flɛ’m Kofi.

I arrive at the entrance of a cave.

My shadow dances on the stone walls.

I feel the heat of engulfing flames.

I ran toward it and emerge from the ashes, untouched.

In the distance,

An old man sits in front of a house made of mud.

I approach,

Eyes wide, heart light, feet steady.

Ɛzi mi ɔ? 

Bɛ flɛ’o Kofi, he answers.