My mum, kente, Me, and the African Prince in Dubai.

As I stepped into the grand ballroom of the Crowne Plaza hotel in Dubai, I felt a surge of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. I had been selected as a delegate for the Global Peace Summit, and today was the much-anticipated cultural day.

The African Prince in Dubai

The organizers had urged all delegates to don traditional cultural attire that represented their country. As an African and a Ghanaian, I knew that the kente cloth was the epitome of traditional African attire. But four days before my trip to Dubai, I was still in Cape Coast, trying to finalize a few things I needed for the summit.

That’s when my mother, Maa, insisted that I wear kente. “Maa, that would be too expensive and out of my budget,” I protested. But she persisted, eventually convincing me by saying she would pay for it.

And so, on a Thursday afternoon, we set off to the market in search of kente. My mother led the way, and I followed her, feeling like a pre-senior high schooler again, shopping for school stuff with my mum. We went from store to store, inquiring about prices, and the feeling was so nostalgic.

My mum and I out shopping in Cape Coast

The sense of adventure, good cheer and the renewed energy as we went from store to store, it made me smile and my heart glad.

Finally, we found a boutique owned by a Pentecost church member. After exchanging pleasantries and the usual chit-chat, my mum informed her that we needed kente for her son. At first, the boutique owner assumed it was for my traditional marriage, but after veiled attempts at explaining, she understood that it was not for my wedding day.

We bought the kente and then set off to find a “super tailor” who sewed kente cloth for men to wear traditionally. Up to that point, I did not know that cloth worn traditionally by men had to be sewn first. We arrived at the tailor’s shop, and he promised to deliver the cloth the next day.

The following day, we went back to pick up the cloth, but first, we had to buy lace cloth for the jumper and some African beads. We found a seller with the ones we wanted and proceeded to the tailor. He had done a great job, but I was still fumbling with how to wear it properly.

The super tailor teaching me how to wear the cloth

My mum insisted that I needed the proper shorts (togas as they call it) for wearing my kente cloth, as well as royal slippers. If it was up to me, I was going to wear my black Polo Ralph Lauren summer shorts underneath and then my brown leather slippers but my mum said no.

We set off on another adventure to find the right velvet cloth for the togas, and then went to another “super tailor” who assured us of next day delivery.

The royal slippers were still pending, I was still in two minds about it, I still had to buy gifts for exchanging with delegates from the other countries, I still had to hold on to some cash for touring Dubai plus I had paid for the kente (couldn’t let my mum pay for it).

My mum was still on the lookout for the perfect royal slippers. After much searching, she found a vendor with quality wears and, in between WhatsApp video calls and regular phone calls, I chose a beautiful black and gold slipper.

My kente, slippers, togas and gold ornaments

Finally, on the day of the cultural event, I arrived at the ballroom looking like an African Prince, kente in tow, royal slippers on, beads, gold chain, gold wristlet, and my whole six-foot one-inch stature taking each step with an air of Royalty and authority.

The African Prince had arrived in Dubai

The onlookers were in awe as I turned heads, and hotel guests and passersby stood watching with gaping mouths and eyes full of admiration. The African Prince had arrived in Dubai, looking impeccable, dashing, and stunning. In Fanti culture, I am greeted as “ahenewaa” because I come from a long line of royal goldsmiths on my father’s side. And on this day, I truly felt like a prince, thanks to my mother’s unwavering determination to ensure that I looked my best.

The Prince arrives