Back in 2016 I started writing a book; a historical thriller that takes its readers from the 1700’s in Ghana to the abolition of slavery in Suriname, to racist exploits by politicians in 2015.

In the book I concocted the tale of two brothers, one of them a towering, fearless giant whose razorsharp dangerous machete was always at the ready to defend his little brother.

I named him Ebo.

I enjoyed bringing this warrior to life, this imposing giant, to the extent that I feared that I had overdrawn him.

And then two weeks ago I ran into a lifelike statute of him that stands guard outside the Denkyra castle near Cape Coast in Ghana.

Did I mention that in my book he is Denkyra?

I made him up.

You can’t make this up!

I am 8 centimeters shy of 2 meters tall and I am not a puny skinny man with air in his testicles, but this man, if he were alive, would have dwarfed me. He would’ve eaten his lunch from atop my dome. He towered over me and I felt strangely safe near him..

I was like “that’s him!”

And assured because the image I had concocted of him was not overdrawn after all.

He exists, I thought, as I marveled at his statue.

The book has been finished for like 98 percent for over three years now, but I never published it.

I wasn’t ready yet

I’m ready now

Time to finish that book