Helmet of Heritage: Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah on Identity, Legacy, and Purpose

The heat in Tamale that afternoon was thick—the kind that seems to hum beneath your skin. At Red Clay Art Studio, where sculptures jut from the earth like memories made solid, the energy on set felt electric. Dust rose under careful steps; fabrics shifted in the breeze. In the heart of this, framed by tradition and intent, stood Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah: NFL linebacker, son of Ghanaian soil, and a man who wears his many identities like armor—not to hide, but to reveal. Born in Virginia to parents deeply rooted in Ghanaian heritage, Jeremiah’s rise in American football was meteoric. But even as accolades stacked up—Notre Dame standout, Cleveland Browns star—what set him apart was not just his athleticism, but his unwavering commitment to something deeper: purpose. “I’m not just here to play a game,” he once shared. “I’m here to build, to restore, to protect the greater beyond myself.”

This cover shoot, titled Helmet of Heritage, was no mere fashion statement. It was an ode to that mission—a visual symphony of culture, spirit, and reflection. And for Jeremiah, it became another chapter in a lifelong dialogue between where he comes from and where he’s going.

As the cameras clicked, Jeremiah’s posture was steady, intentional. Each piece of regalia—Black Akan Kente draped across his shoulders, the ceremonial umbrella shading him—was chosen not for its aesthetic alone, but for its story.

Listen to the Guzangs playlist on Apple Music, selected by Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah, for the full vibe while you read.​​

“I see the helmet. I see our heritage. A powerful juxtaposition,” he says. “Both are worn, both are weighty, and both are meant to protect. But just as they shield, they can also harm. Neither is about hiding, yet you can’t see the true face of either until it is willingly revealed.”

For him, the helmet is more than a piece of equipment. It’s a metaphor for the complex interplay of identity—what is shown, what is safeguarded, what must be chosen every day. “The helmet becomes symbolic… not of a heritage left behind, but of one that lives now, one that you must choose to wear.”

Success on the field demands precision. Off the field, he approaches heritage with equal rigor. He speaks of legacy not as a burden but as a responsibility—one that requires discernment. “I was taught that to honor those who came before me out of blind obeisance is like paddling a river with no oar.”

There is wisdom in knowing that not all inherited ways serve the present. “We must examine what allowed our ancestors to rise, and what led them to fall. What was functional, and what was dysfunctional. We’re called to know the past, but not be trapped by it.”

It’s this balance—respect for history with an eye to progress—that fuels both his game and his vision for life. “We’re called to uplift ourselves in ways that benefit not just us, but our teams, our communities, our nations, and our people, both on and off the field.” In a world where words can be twisted, Jeremiah lets what he wears speak its own truth. On this shoot, his Black Akan Kente commanded attention—not flashy, but full of meaning. “Traditionally worn at funerals, Black in our tradition carries the depth of the ancestors, the presence of spirit, and the maturity that comes with understanding the concept of death,” he explains. “We understand that Black is not the last color; it is the first. Thus, it speaks to death as the first stage of life, not the last.”

For Koramoah, fashion isn’t trend-chasing. It’s a translation. “Expression sometimes is through words; other times without. Fashion is that expressive language without—one that everyone speaks, even if not everyone understands it the same way.” And when that expression is rooted in culture, it becomes, in his words, “a testimony—of the vision, of the people, of the purpose.”

Not everything about that day was planned. Midway through the shoot, an unscripted gesture turned symbolic. “There was a moment when we invited one of the crew members into the shoot. We dressed him in Kente, gave him the traditional umbrella, and let him step into the frame. The symbolism wasn’t lost on anyone. He came in wearing what he knew—his camera, his job, his passion. Yet there was more demand for him. We all have roles—some of us, many. But when the time comes, we must become what the moment needs.” It was a reminder: identity isn’t static. It is an invitation—a call to rise when duty summons. Koramoah’s intensity is palpable, on and off the field. Asked where his fire comes from, his answer is immediate: “Allah. And the awareness that every breath is borrowed.” This sense of borrowed time shapes how he moves, how he thinks, how he hopes to be seen. “When people look at this cover, I hope they see themselves. A reminder that we’re not just here to exist—we’re here to build, to restore, to protect the greater beyond ourselves. I hope they see duty calling.” And when the cleats are hung up, what legacy will remain? “I want people to see me as a principle. A flawed, upright man—on a road to correct his wrongs, moving toward the mark we all seek: to perfect ourselves. That is it.”

Among the teachings that ground him is one parable he carries close: the story of a king who wore a golden mask to impress his people. He wore it so often that he forgot his own face—and so did they. When he died, they mourned the mask, not the man. “That story reminds me, especially in my field, to never perform for the world so much that I forget who I am,” Jeremiah shares. “People adapt to whatever you give them. If you give them a mask, they’ll love and cling to that mask. But true legacy demands authenticity. Becoming someone worth remembering means being real—even when it’s unpopular.” If he could speak across time to that young boy—before Notre Dame, before the NFL—Jeremiah’s counsel would be both urgent and tender. “Go now. Don’t wait. Move now. Discipline isn’t punishment, it’s preparation. Don’t be too casual with your responsibilities. There’s an urgency you must claim.” And perhaps his most profound advice: “Zeal with no direction is like the river with no banks—rushing wild, but never reaching a destination.”

Asked to sum up this cover, this moment, this mission, Jeremiah offers one word: “Nkrabea”. “A negotiated, assigned path and manner by which a soul leaves the Creator to fulfill its purpose in the physical world.” In Tamale’s heat, beneath RedClay’s sculptures, surrounded by cloth, color, and history, Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah offered a vision larger than sport, larger than self. His words, like his presence, remind us that identity is not static—it is a constant act of becoming. And in this Helmet of Heritage cover, Koramoah invites us all to wear our own with intention, courage, and truth.

Listen to the Guzangs playlist on Apple Music, selected by Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah.

  PRODUCTION CREDITS Talent : Jeremiah Owusu-Koramoah Editor/Creative Director : Ekow Barnes Styled by Lafalaise Dion Grooming by Antoinette Kwofie Photography by Gideon Boadi Photo Assistant : Daniel Kwame Mawuena Gomadonku Post Production : Deon Studioss Fashion Video by : Henry Akrong / Package Studios Video Assist : Derrick Addo Producer : Gamel Baba Apalayine Production Assistant : Samuel Ampomah Production Set Design Curation : Joel Gyamera at Redclay Studios Production Runners : Neindow David , Amponsah Amos Asamoah Service Production Company by : WB Group Transport Logistics : Ayisi Wheels As seen Jeremiah is wearing designs by : Spencer Badu , Chiip ‘O’ Neal , L’artisane, Kente Gentlemen , Lafalaise Dion , Niam 311, Smock Afriq. Mules by : The Blocc , Maison Dosso We  extend  our sincere gratitude to Redclay Studio for their generous welcome. Special thanks to Ibrahim Mahama and his wife, Khadija Mahama, as well as to Selom and Benjamin for their invaluable support .