It must have been the 4th or 11th of October, 1986 – it was a Saturday. A bright dry day. My big brother Ntiako and I set off from Kotobabi in Accra for Cape Coast, Ghana. A l-o-n-g journey! The last time I had travelled that far from Accra was to my hometown, but we used the sleeper (overnight) train and went straight to Tarkwa, from where we continued the journey to Wasa Akropong.<\/p>\n
I recollect the climb of the vehicle up this steep road up a hill. The driver had to turn to the left and to the right, to avoid the potholes, simultaneously ensuring that the journey is not in reverse, towards a gaping valley behind us.<\/p>\n
We get off at a little ’roundabout’, by the pantry and directly opposite that is the house which became my abode, Kwesi Plange. I recall my brother handing me over to the first senior we met, his name: Stagger. He automatically became my \u2018school father\u2019. Stagger had bloodshot eyes.<\/p>\n
After registration, I am left with Stagger who takes me through the common room downstairs, up the stairs to the top floor and to his cubicle directly opposite the end of the stairs, in K Plange. All my stuff end up in his cubicle, and the edible ones in his alimentary canal. Story for another day.<\/p>\n
Surrounded by seniors, from Form 2 to Sixth form especially those in Forms two and five, respectively. Nkansah, Ananey, Moshie Dayan, Torjah, M Bashah, Crazy Pozo, Bibish, Babash… ‘What is the alphabetical construction of your human dignity?’ Ebei, what question is this? Never met it in my Common Entrance exams, under Verbal. Never. Repeated. No idea. ‘Stupid boy, how did you pass your exams and come here?’ ‘OK, what is your name?’ Aaaa! ‘My name is Nana Awere Damoah.’<\/p>\n
Hey, son of Rev. Father Damoah? No. Yes. No. Yes.<\/p>\n
Carried my trunk on my head and singing:<\/p>\n
Father Damoah ei Hey!
\nFather Damoah ei Hey!
\nFather Damoah ei
\nFather Damoah ei
\nFather Damoah ei
\nW\u2019adi sika ewie a (He has embezzled funds)
\nOdi Bible akata so! (He has covered his misdeed with his Bible)<\/p>\n
Welcome to my first day at Ghana National College (Ghanacoll), Osagyefo’s own school.<\/p>\n
Secondary school was an interesting phase of my life; I see that phase as a \u2018make-or-break\u2019 stage in the life of a teenager. I saw lives being transformed, and I also observed young lives slide down the pit of destruction. You do know education is a leveller and the boarding school concept in Ghanaian secondary schools was the greatest leveller of all. Children of the rich and poor, lowly and highly placed, different tribes \u2013 all being bullied in form one, all eating the same lousy food in the dining halls, all sleeping in the dark when the lights went off almost on cue during rainy days, beds shifted to one side of the halls to escape the waters that the wind blew through the windows with gaping holes where louvers blades used to be. We learnt about various cultures of Ghana, we gained knowledge about the attributes of people brought up in various cities of Ghana. For example, you could trust the Takoradi guy to have loads of funny stories up his sleeves, stories which usually ended with the phrase \u201c…and he died soon after that!\u201d Such stories were called lata<\/em>, literally meaning lies, but translated as fictional stories. You also learnt that these guys fight with their heads, in a style known as butting. So, during an argument with a T\u2019adi guy, when he gets angry and threatens to butt you, you better take him serious and make your escape; more strategically, keep a distance away from his head!<\/p>\n The history of Ghana National College fascinated me as well. Its establishment was linked intricately with the history of the independence struggle of Ghana. It was the first school that the first President of Ghana, Osagyefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, established. This was in 1948, with the seed money coming from his pocket. Note that this was nine years before Ghana\u2019s independence and the change of the name of the country from the Gold Coast, to Ghana. Thus, it will be fair to say that Osagyefo, in naming my school, was prophesying the name of the nation he led out of colonialism. Maybe that explains why the motto of the school and its crest are so biased towards patriotism and afrocentrism, two virtues which were drummed into our coconut heads.<\/p>\n The motto of the school is Pro Patria<\/em>, for the sake of the fatherland. The motto taught us to think as John F. Kennedy instructed: to ask not what our country can do for us, but what we can do for our country. Indeed, linked to our school emblem, we were taught not to only think country but continent.<\/p>\n It was our French master, Nana Akomea, who doubled up as our General Paper lecturer in Sixth form, who brought my attention to the symbolism of the school emblem and taught us a great lesson out of it. We were in Upper Six then and I can\u2019t quite recollect the exact topic he was treating then. The Ghanacoll emblem consist of the map of Africa, with the map or outline of Ghana highlighted in gold, and the sun shining its rays from the north eastern part of the emblem (the top right); the rays spreading all over Africa, affecting the continent with its warmth, glow, influence. Mr. Akomea explained that we were being trained to be like that sun, to go out there and affect the continent with our talent, our skills, our energy, our all. We were to be the beacon of hope for our nation and continent, to bring the needed development and advancement to Africa. That lesson was etched indelibly on my mind.<\/p>\n My cardinal belief is that it is the natives of the land that till the land best, with passion and meaning. The advanced nations of this world built their countries by the sweat of their indigenes. It will even be fair to acknowledge that the economies of some of these nations were built with African resources \u2013 human, material, et cetera. This point is captured better in Kobby Parker\u2019s submission in Gate X of my book Through the Gates of Thoughts. Africans owe it a duty to build this continent themselves. The Bible talks about loving our neighbour as ourselves but not more than ourselves. Our elders say that if a member of your family eats your food, he leaves some because he thinks of the rest of the family.<\/em><\/p>\n Come to Africa and help! Wherever you may be in the world, there is something you can give back to the continent that gave you a name and an identity, at least. For most Africans, we got more. We got educated almost freely up to university level; we got trained with the taxpayers\u2019 hard-earned money. Helping build the continent may not necessarily mean living on the continent; if that happens, the better, I think. But, there is always something you can do to give back. Some skilled Africans in the Diaspora come home periodically to run clinics, make donations to schools, colleges, hospitals; many send remittance to family and friends back home to help support our budgets, etc. Don\u2019t sever your umbilical cord. Ultimately, plan to return home to help build our land.<\/p>\n It is only by our hands that we can build this continent to the standard that we envy and admire in the advanced countries. According to my Zimbabwean friend Panganai Chatapura, \u201cthe evidence of what we can do as Africans is there in abundance, especially if you consider the contribution we made (and continue to make) in the development of the developed world. If only we could do 10% of what we did\/do [for the developed world] for our beloved land, we will surpass those lands. One of the problems we have is what Benjamin Burombo, a Zimbabwean nationalist, said: \u2018Each time I want to fight for African rights, I use only one hand \u2013 because the other hand is busy trying to keep away Africans who are fighting me.\u2019 We need to complement each other for the sake of Mother Africa.\u201d It has been said that in a typical African country of two PhD holders, one is the President and the other is in exile! That aberration must stop. We must demonstrate that the land is big enough to accommodate more than one wise person. We need all hands, heads and hearts on deck, dedicated and focused on the renaissance of Africa and its development.<\/p>\n The time to build the future for our children is now, to give them a head start. Donald Morgan intimated that \u201cwe pay for the mistakes of our ancestors, and it seems only fair that they should leave us the money to pay with.\u201d In the same vein, if our descendants will enjoy the fruit of our labour, the time to do the planting is now.<\/p>\n May we then be able to sing with Rudyard Kipling:<\/p>\n Land of our birth, we pledge to thee,<\/em> Land of our birth, our faith, our pride,<\/em> \nCome to Africa and help! Pro Patria!<\/p>\n By: Nana Awere Damoah <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It must have been the 4th or 11th of October, 1986 – it was a Saturday. A bright dry day. My big brother Ntiako and I set off from Kotobabi in Accra for Cape Coast, Ghana. A l-o-n-g journey! The last time I had travelled that far from Accra was to my hometown, but we […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14,"featured_media":26417,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[8],"yoast_head":"\n
\nOur love and toil in the years to be;<\/em>
\nWhen we are grown, and take our place,<\/em>
\nAs men and women with our race\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n
\nFor whose dear sake our fathers died;<\/em>
\nO Motherland, we pledge to thee,<\/em>
\nHead, heart and hand through the years to be<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAuthor, I Speak of Ghana<\/p>\n