"When Cultures Collide: Asante Meets Eswatini – And It’s Kind of Magical"
A few years ago, I stumbled into something I never saw coming—an unexpected friendship with a Swati guy named Musa during a cultural exchange in Accra. I was just there to cover the event for a blog (okay, and get some free kelewele), but I left with a whole new perspective on how culture isn't a wall—it’s a bridge.
I remember him wearing this beautifully embroidered traditional Eswatini attire—rich reds and bold patterns I’d never seen up close before. I joked that he looked like royalty.
He smiled and said, “In my country, this is how kings dress. And in yours?”
Without thinking, I said, “Same. Except… our kente speaks louder.”
We laughed. But looking back? That moment stuck with me.
-I didn’t expect two worlds to feel so familiar
Last weekend, I attended an event where the Asante and Eswatini cultures converged—and honestly, it was more than just dance and drums. There was this undercurrent of something real. Like, deep down, we’re more connected than we think.
You’d hear the sound of the fontomfrom drums one minute, and the next, you’re swaying to the rhythm of Swati royal praise songs. It didn’t clash—it blended. Like a mixtape you didn’t know you needed.
Even the chiefs and dignitaries, draped in layers of symbolism and history, greeted each other not as foreigners—but as reflections. There was something powerful about that. (And okay yes, the fashion was insane—in a good way. I’m talking kente meets leopard print vibes.)
-“Wait… your people do that too?”
At some point, someone asked if the Asante golden stool had a spiritual twin in Eswatini tradition. A Swati elder explained their “Ludzidzini Royal Village”—a sacred ground like the Manhyia Palace. I sat there thinking, Wait, so we're both rooted in royalty, storytelling, and symbolism?
And it hit me: We’ve been siloed for so long by borders drawn by people who didn’t understand us. But our stories? Our rituals? Our respect for ancestors? They mirror each other in ways that make you wonder what else we’ve been missing.
-In my experience, cultural exchange isn’t about performance
It’s not just about the photos or the speeches. It’s about the little moments.
Like sharing food (yes, jollof and emahewu do not taste alike—but they slap in different ways).
Or watching a Swati girl try to wrap kente for the first time and saying, “I think I need an engineering degree for this.”
It’s laughter, curiosity, and that quiet realization that our roots might run deeper together than apart.
-So, what’s next?
I’m not totally sure. But I do know this: if more of us got the chance to witness cultural exchanges like this, we’d stop seeing each other as strangers and start seeing each other as long-lost cousins.
And maybe—just maybe—the future of Africa isn’t about choosing between tradition and progress…
But building something powerful out of both.
What if we stopped waiting for cultural unity to happen at state events—and started living it in everyday life?
Think about it. What could we build if we truly celebrated not just our differences—but our surprising similarities too?
blogpay
Total Comments: 0