Flowers at a park in Toronto, Canada. (c) 2023 Dunlevy Publishing
Today is Mother’s Day in Canada. I have no idea which other countries celebrate this on this day. I do know that South Korea also has Children’s Day. As we reflect on and appreciate our dear mothers for giving us life, I think I must also thank Mother Africa.
Mother Africa is the cradle of mankind. Mother Africa is the home to most of my dear ancestors. She is home to my people who were forcibly taken from her and mistreated and enslaved in the Americas.
Mama Africa is home to my culture and true identity. She is home to my Mende ancestors. She is home to my Akan ancestors. She is home to my Igbo ancestors. She is home to my Bini ancestors. She is home to my Esan ancestors. She is home to my Yoruba ancestors.
Mama Africa is home to the vast majority of my ancestors. I am a hybrid human being. I celebrate all of my ancestries, including my various non-African ones. I am a product of not only the horrors of slavery, but the will and triumph of Africans who endured that hell yet survived.
Let is take this time out to give thanks to our mothers – biological and geographical.
Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/action-activity-adult-athlete-262506/
This African World Cup… hmmm…. I have always dreamed of a day when an African country wins the World Cup. Unfortunately, it did not happen this year.
I was born in Canada to parents from Jamaica, West Indies. Our African family roots trace back to what is now known as Sierra Leone, Ghana, and Nigeria. Our European roots trace back mainly to Wales and England.
Growing up in Toronto, Canada, I was exposed to a lot of different cultures. I was a hockey kid. Always loved the game and always will. One evening while riding the subway with my Mom, I noticed that a lot of people were cheering and waving flags. I asked one of the people why they were cheering. They told me it was for Italy in the World Cup. They went on to explain what the World Cup is. I started chanting “Viva Italia” along with the others. That evening, a fan was born.
As a huge fan of hockey, I could not see the appeal of football (soccer in Canada and the USA). I, like many others, complained, what kind of game is this where the score is 1-0? This sentiment remained with me until my university days.
One day, I found myself checking out a “soccer” game on television. I started to focus on the players’ athleticism. The fancy footwork, the passes, the plays, etc. It was then that I finally realized why they call this “The Beautiful Game”. The fact that the scoring was so rare meant that each goal has a far greater significance and is a cause for celebration. That day was the day that I fell in love with the game of football, commonly known as soccer in North America.
Speaking of “soccer”, why is it that only Canada and the United States use that term (to my knowledge). I suppose it may have something to do with the fact that these two countries are the only ones with an entirely different sport called football. Since I became a fan of global football (soccer), I have referred to the North American games as Canadian Football (CFL) and American Football (NFL).
Naturally, being born and raised in Canada, I should cheer for my home country. This year was the first, since I have been a fan, that Canada was actually in the tournament. I usually cheer for several teams, each having their own reason for my support.
Italy: The Italian fans introduced me to the World Cup. I have had a great time working and socializing with Italian people my whole life. I am forever grateful for the Italians introducing me to the game. The passion they display for the sport is enough to make anyone want to become a fan.
Canada: My home country. The place of my birth. A place where I have lived a good life. Why would I not cheer for my country? I consider myself a patriotic person. I have a Canadian flag on the wall in my condo. I have a flag at my desk at work. I sing the anthem before watching games at the bar. I was even zoomed in on Sportsnet while singing the anthem during a Toronto Maple Leafs hockey game.
I always wondered why Canada was not a world power in football. We have people from all over the world living here. In fact, football is the fastest-growing sport in the nation. I feel that eventually, Canada will become a great football nation… if we invest in more indoor facilities due to the climate.
Portugal: During university, while working for a student newspaper, I was assigned to cover the Portuguese community during the World Cup.
One afternoon, I decided to visit a bar in Little Portugal in order to get a feel for the community. I took the bus down to Ossington and Dundas where I had spotted a sports bar during a prior trip. As I walked towards the bar, I could see a few burly-looking guys hanging out in front of the venue. I almost immediately thought:
Am you sure you wanna go here? This looks like a rough place.
I walked up to the bar and went inside. I took a seat at the bar and started fiddling with my smartphone. The bartender introduced himself to me. He was also the owner. I ordered a pint of beer and then resumed writing on my smartphone.
Another guy at the bar started speaking to me in Portuguese. For some reason, I responded in Spanish and told him that I did not speak Portuguese. He then switched to English and asked what I was doing sitting there fiddling with the phone.
I told him I was there to learn about the community for my school newspaper. He was pleased and started a conversation with me. All the other guys turned out to be really nice. I was able to quickly become a regular.
I knew I was a regular when I would not go for a few days and upon my return, people would question me out of concern. They really did take me in like a long-lost son. I will never forget that summer in Portugal Village, Toronto.
Jamaica: The Reggae Boyz represent the beautiful land of my parents’ birth. How can I not support my team? Irie!
Toronto has a large Jamaican community. The Jamaican people are a fiercely proud people similar to the Italians in terms of pride and loyalty to their friends. Watching football, or any sport for that manner, with Jamaicans is always an exciting experience.
Ghana: Part of my ancestry is of the Akan ethnicity. I can trace my roots back to the Ashanti and Fante peoples, both of the Akan nation in Ghana. I always cheer on the Black Stars!
Sierra Leone: I can trace part of my ancestry to the Mende people of Sierra Leone. The SLFA have yet to qualify for the World Cup, but when they do, I can assure they they will have my support.
Wales: This year I discovered that part of my heritage is from the Welsh people of Wales. Wales is part of the United Kingdom. This year, Wales qualified for the first time since the 1950s!
England: I always knew I had English roots, so I always cheer on the team… although they haven’t won since before my time. Somehow everyone takes them seriously and considers them a major contender.
Japan: I have a lot of ties to Japan. Although I do not trace any ancestry to this beautiful nation, I have deep connections to the people of Japan. I travel there often and their hospitality is tops.
South Korea: Again, although I do not trace any of my roots to South Korea, I have been considered an honorary Korean by my many Korean friends in Canada and Korea. Fun fact: Korean is my second language.
Nigeria: The Super Eagles! The vast majority of my roots are from Nigeria! I consider myself a Yoruba man with Esan, Bini, and Igbo heritage along with Akan (Ghana) and Mende (Sierra Leone). I think that Nigeria should win the World Cup one of these days. The locals are so passionate about The Beautiful Game.
I have been researching my ancestral makeup even more since I received the results from my first DNA test one month ago. I thought that everything would end once I received the results. I was wrong. While the results answered a lot of questions, they left me with even more.
I had gone on to run several more tests in addition to reading several books and academic research papers. Everything points to Yoruba making up the biggest part of me. Now it is time to embrace my heritage.
I decided to get a Yoruba name. There are several articles and sites about naming Yoruba babies. The names tend to have beautiful meanings. Choosing one was not difficult for me. But I also needed a last name.
None of those sites or articles were for last names. It was not so easy for me to find a last name. I went to one of the Nigerian forums and asked for assistance. The guys were nice and welcoming. One guy suggested a name that I really like. The meaning, when combined with my first name, tells my story.
Ogooluwa Omobowole
This name can be translated as “By God’s glory, the child has returned home.” This adequately describes my long search for my ethnic roots which were stolen from my ancestors. Growing up only knowing that my African side “came from West Africa” left me feeling empty. I had no trouble learning about my non-African roots, but the African roots remained shrouded in mystery.
West Africa is a huge place. There are close to 400-million people residing in West Africa. Just over a decade ago, I had learned that the majority of Africans brought to Jamaica during the Transatlantic Slave Trade were from present-day Ghana and Nigeria. That narrowed things down a bit. But Nigeria and Ghana combine for a population of over 247-million people spread over more than 250 ethnic groups.
My years of research have finally paid off. Thanks to historians and advances in technology, I now know that I am mostly of Yoruba heritage. I also share roots with the Akan from Ghana, Igbo and Edo (Bini), from Nigeria, and Mende from Sierra Leone among others. Of this ethnic potpourri, Yoruba makes up the largest portion of my being by far.
Now that I can trace my roots down to ethnicities, I feel like I have finally found my home. I may not have returned home physically yet, but spiritually, I have returned home. My next plan is a trip to Nigeria! As a matter of fact, since Yorubaland spans 3 nations, I should plan a trip to Nigeria, Benin, and Togo!
