Kobena Ampofo performing ‘Bonsam Din’ during the VUKA residency at Theatre Passe Muraille, Toronto
This story came to us through a special correspondence from Toronto. It was shared by Kobena Ampofo, who performed the piece, titled "Bonsam Din," as a culmination of their time in the VUKA residency hosted at Theatre Passe Muraille. As they explained it to us, the play was about a very simple but powerful topic: a name — the name “Kweku.”
Now, if you are from Ghana or familiar with Akan culture, you will know that names like Kwaku are not just ordinary names. They are day-names. Kweku is given to a boy born on a Wednesday.
But it is more than just a birth day label. In many African traditions, your name is connected to your character. It is believed that the day you were born may influence your personality and how you live your life.
So, carrying a name like Kweku comes with responsibility. It means you are expected to live in a way that brings honour to the name and also connects you to others who have held or will hold that name.
According to the actor who shared the experience with us, the storyteller in the play was none other than Kweku Ananse — the famous Ghanaian trickster spider.
In the performance, Ananse told the story of a pastor in the diaspora who also had the name Kweku. At first, the pastor was respected and had many followers.
But suddenly, things took a turn during one sermon. Instead of bringing honour to the name Kweku, the pastor’s behaviour caused the prominent holders of the name to take note. His actions did not reflect the values that the name was supposed to stand for.
How could someone who carried such a respected name act this way?
According to the story, the situation became so serious that something had to be done. One of these prominent elders, Kweku Bonsam — a powerful ancestral spirit often translated as the Christian devil — appeared in the story to punish the pastor. In many African belief systems, spirits and ancestors are often seen as guardians of culture and morality. They are believed to watch over the living and sometimes intervene when things go wrong.
In this case, the ancestral spirit stepped in to discipline the pastor for disgracing their shared name. Kobena told us that the audience laughed when the dramatic moment unfolded on stage. The idea of an ancestral spirit showing up in Toronto to correct a pastor was both surprising and entertaining.
But behind the laughter was an important lesson:
Moving to another country does not mean you leave behind your identity, your culture, or your responsibilities. You may live in Canada, the USA, or Europe — but your name and where you come from still matter. The story made me think deeply about young immigrants growing up abroad. Sometimes, when people move to a new country, they feel pressure to fit in. They may change how they speak, dress, or even how they behave. In trying to adapt, they may slowly forget the values and traditions that shaped them. But the question is: At what point do we begin to lose ourselves?
For teenagers especially, this can be very confusing. You may be trying to fit in at school while also holding on to the expectations of your family and culture. You may feel caught between two worlds — one at home and one outside. The story of Kweku reminds us that it is possible to adapt without forgetting who we are. Immigration may change where we live. But it should not change the responsibility that comes with our identity, our names, and our heritage.
