we go do
The Black Star is freedom. Lying beside the sea. Rooted in the tropics, rich in spirit, It works diligently.
It wears a patterned cloth. Cocoa skin, sun-kissed. A wrap tied around its head, Above tight curls and twists.
It sings in celebration. A nation small yet bold. Its air heavy with heat and aroma, As it rests on a bed of gold.
The Black Star is independence. Playing ball just for fun. It’ll take you down and show you ‘round, Then dance when it’s scored and won.
Ghana’s national soccer team is named after the lone star at the center of the flag—the Black Star of Africa. More than a symbol of freedom, the Black Star stands for African unity. Over time, it has come to represent both the country and its beloved soccer team.
‘06
Back in 2006, being Ghanaian American wasn’t exactly cool. This was before Black Panther, before Wakanda. Most people couldn’t find Ghana on a map, and didn’t care to. Ghana was just “somewhere in Africa,” and that was enough for them.
That summer, Ghana made its debut in the FIFA World Cup. When most people think of the 2006 tournament in Germany, they remember Zinedine Zidane’s infamous headbutt in the final—but there were other storylines, ones that faded before the spotlight of the finals. One of those stories was the Black Stars: an underestimated, overlooked African team playing in its first World Cup, advancing to the Round of 16 after defeating the United States in the group stage.
It was surreal—an honor to watch my family’s homeland shine on the world’s biggest stage. Even my mom got into it when the Black Stars played, and she’s not much of a sports fan. We felt immense pride in the team and in Ghana. I needed that then. It gave me confidence in my heritage and reminded me that the beauty of Ghana and its people could be celebrated through sport.
Live in Kumasi
Three years later, my family took a trip to Ghana. It was my second visit, and as an eighth grader, I wasn’t thrilled about missing three weeks of school. I worried about falling behind and missing out with friends. But our parents promised it would be an experience we couldn’t get in a classroom. That became the trip’s theme—and they were right.
One of the most memorable moments of that trip was attending our first Ghana soccer match in Kumasi—the country’s second-largest city and the capital of the Ashanti Region, where my family is from. Ghana was set to face Benin in a World Cup qualifier for the 2010 tournament in South Africa. While we were in Accra, we often heard radio emcees in my dad’s truck hyping the upcoming match. Commercials replayed a catchy summer 2006 anthem, “Straight to the Top,” dedicated to the Black Stars and their World Cup run.
After dinner, my uncle picked up my dad, my brother, and me from my mom’s childhood home in South Suntreso, a neighborhood northwest of Kumasi. Since it was a night game, the heat had eased, but the streets were busy. Traffic picked up near the stadium, but my uncle managed to snag a spot in a small lot just a five-minute walk away. We walked past a lively row of vendors selling jerseys, shakers, horns, bracelets—anything Black Stars or Ghana-themed. Once inside the stadium gates, we headed straight to our seats.
Agya Koo
Baba Yara Sports Stadium was nearly full. My brother and I stood out as the youngest ones in our section. We didn’t see any other kids around. The match seemed like an adults-only event, so it was a privilege to be there. The conditions were perfect for a game, and we had a clear view of the field.
Our section was buzzing when we arrived. Many people stood on their feet, sharing last-minute analyses and predictions. Some were excited and in high spirits; others seemed tense, aware of the World Cup stakes. Suddenly, a commotion started in the rows below us.
A man in a purple button-up and gold-rimmed glasses ran down the front row of our section, giving double high-fives to fans in rapid succession. Some in his entourage followed behind at a slower pace. Loud cheers and laughter broke out around us.
“Eh! Agya Koo!” A woman exclaimed behind me.
My brother and I furrowed our brows, exchanging bewildered glances. I called out to my dad a few times, but he couldn’t hear me over the ruckus. He was laughing along with the rest of the crowd. When I finally caught his attention, I asked, “Who was that guy?”
“Oh! You don’t know, Agya Koo?” he asked in disbelief. I sighed impatiently.
My dad told me Agya Koo was a Ghanaian movie star and comedian who had appeared in dozens of films. He said I’d probably seen him in one of the Ghanaian movies my mom watched at home. Apparently, the stars were out for this game. Shortly after Agya Koo’s grand entrance, the pre-match ceremony began.
Homeland
“God Bless Our Homeland Ghana,” the national anthem, played after Benin’s anthem. It was my first time hearing it in Ghana, and it sounded like a hymn. As the anthem filled the stadium, many sang the lyrics in Akan, others in English. The words resonated deeply, reflecting the spirit of Ghana and the hope symbolized by the Black Star:
“The cause of freedom and of right.”
“A nation strong in unity.”
“Black star of hope and honor.”
Each line echoed a powerful message of what the Black Star symbolizes for Ghanaians. When the song ended, the crowd roared—sending a chill up my spine. The Black Stars and Benin’s team shook hands and took their places on the pitch. It was time for kickoff.
First Minute
The energy was electric at kickoff. Entire sections of the stadium sang in rhythm with clacking bells and tribal drums. Trumpeting horns reminded me of the Ghanaian gospel songs we played at home. Ghanaian flags waved and swayed in the warm evening air. I spotted a woman holding a sign that read, “God is Ghanaian.” We looked around, soaking in the vibrant atmosphere of the match.
The Black Stars wore their classic all-white home uniforms, while Benin donned yellow. Stephen Appiah, captain of the Black Stars, stood at center field with the ball at his feet and hands on his hips. The referee blew a loud whistle, and we were off in Kumasi.
The Black Stars opened the match with an interesting tactic—Samuel Inkoom, typically a right-sided defender, played on the left, while John Paintsil remained in his usual position on the right. At midfield, Appiah received his first touch, dribbling forward and carving out space for an attack. He evaded a defender before passing to Eric Addo on the back line. Addo gathered himself and lobbed the ball deep downfield as the Black Stars pushed forward.
Sulley Muntari, a rising international star playing for a top club in Milan, brought down the long pass on the left flank with one touch. The crowd rose, and the volume started to crescendo. Muntari cut outside, using his speed and quickness to glide past the Beninese defender. He spotted the Black Stars’ strikers making runs and whipped a sharp cross into the box—an early chance at goal.
Prince Tagoe split two defenders and leapt, his right leg outstretched like a hurdler, to meet Muntari’s cross. He struck it cleanly, driving the ball low into the bottom-left corner. It happened so fast, the Benin keeper had no chance. The Black Stars were up 1–0.
With less than a minute on the clock, Ghana was on the board. The stadium erupted. It was a beautiful goal—still the fastest I’ve ever seen live. We clapped, jumped, and screamed with joy.
“Goal! Tagoe!” My dad yelled, stretching out the long “O” in each word. The men in front of us smiled from ear to ear, high-fiving everyone in their vicinity. The crowd began chanting.
“Black Stars, we go do! Black Stars, do or die!”
My brother and I cheered and chanted with everyone around us. Amid the celebration, I glanced back and saw my uncle standing a row behind—stoic, his hands raised high. Though we celebrated differently, everyone shared the same pride that evening.
Do or Die
The Black Stars went on to win the match 1–0 and ultimately qualified for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, where they made another historic run. In the quarterfinals, Ghana faced Uruguay and came within a penalty kick of becoming the first African nation to reach a World Cup semifinal—a feat Morocco finally achieved at the 2022 World Cup in Qatar.
The 2026 World Cup will mark the 20th anniversary of Ghana’s first appearance on soccer’s biggest stage. Supporters still chant “We go do!”—and when the World Cup is on the line, they add, “Do or die!” As the Black Stars push to qualify for their fifth tournament, this time in America, I’m anticipating new memories of cheering and celebrating our family’s homeland once again. Twenty years later, a new generation stands ready to cheer, believe, and carry the Black Star higher than ever before.
