“When they remember me in March”

Every March, they remember me. They bring out my colours: red, gold, and green. They pin the Black Star over their hearts. They post my flag on social media and type, “Happy Ghana Month.” I watch quietly. I am Ghana, and March is when my children speak my name the loudest. They wear kente with pride. They cook waakye and fufu with excitement. They play high life in taxis and blast patriotic songs from loudspeakers. In schools across Accra and beyond, children rehearse poems about freedom and unity. For a moment, I feel young again. I remember 1957 when Hope ran through my veins like electricity. When Kwame Nkrumah declared me free and the world watched in admiration. Back then, March was not just a celebration. It was a promise. But Ghana Month is different now. Now, it feels like a reunion. Some of my children celebrate me loudly in March, yet complain about me in April. They praise my culture, yet doubt my potential. They sing my anthem, yet they dream of leaving my shores. And I do not blame them. I see the graduate who can not find work. I see the mother adjusting food portions because prices have risen again. I see the young man refreshing visa application pages late at night. I feel their frustration because when they struggle, I struggle. Yet Ghana Month also shows me something beautiful. It shows me that despite everything, my children still love me. They choose local fabrics. They speak Twi, Ga, Ewe, and Fante with pride. They tell my stories again. They teach their little ones where they come from. Even in criticism, there is connection. You see, Ghana Month is not just about parades or speeches. It is about identity. It is about asking difficult questions: Who am I becoming? Am I living up to the fire placed in me at birth? Are my leaders protecting me? Are my children building me? I am no longer the newborn of 1957. I am older now, wiser, tested, and imperfect. I carry scars of economic hardship and political battles. But I also carry resilience. In March, when my flag flies higher, I do not only want a celebration. I want commitment. Love me in your actions, not only your captions. Support me in your choices, not only your outfits. Build me with integrity, not only speeches. Because Ghana Month is not just about remembering who I was. It is about deciding who I will become. And that choice, my dear children, is yours.