A REJUVENATING ENCOUNTER WITH THE AKUMERSU WATER FALL

 A REJUVENATING ENCOUNTER WITH THE AKUMERSU WATER FALL

A closer view of the waterfall

The untarred road meandered through Brepaw, Feefe, Konkoney and ushered us into the peasant community of Akumersu in the Upper Manya Krobo District of the Eastern Region. In that hamlet is a ‘virgin’ waterfall which is wasting away in a nearby bush.

The ‘vuuuuum’ sound which emanated from the revved engines of our chain of vehicles attracted the attention of the natives. The old folks peeped from their windows or doorways and flashed cheerful/friendly grins in our direction as if to assure us of the wonderful hospitality the locals have come to be noted for. The kids had their own way of welcoming us; they beamed with smiles, leapt in excitement and waved at the convoy.   

Gradually, our vehicles processed and snaked through the community before we finally emerged on an outcrop, a rocky surface broad enough to sit hundreds of tourists. There was a brief picnic and moment of socialization to shake off the fatigue and weariness arising out of the long travel.

Then the real expedition began. A few steps away from the picnic center and before us laid an alluring verd, a broad expanse of grassland that ate gently into the horizon, overlooked by an azure sky. The lay of the surrounding was a sight to behold, folks.

The verd/grassland that eats gently into the horizon

Steadily, we went through the underwoods and down the gentle slope, some on wobbling feet which threatened to give up, forcing the thought of a retreat into their minds. I must confess that even me, I came tumbling twice even before we got to the destination.

Water flowing in an incredible volume off a steep crag, overhanged by lovely creeping plants and rocky formations in stratas

Halfway through the journey and we could hear the gushing, splashing, effusive and squirting sound of the waterfall in the valley. It was so inviting. It made the urge to soldier on for the discovery of the hidden treasure irresistible. The more we descended and inched closer to the sound (the waterfall), the more refreshing the misty waft and breeze that embraced us. 

One striking scene that greeted us as we made the descent was this beautiful canopy of indigenous forest trees in the enclave – sparsely pierced by streaks of light - which appeared to be sheltering the water body. Air-master butterflies of varied shades could be seen performing gymnastics on the leaves which swayed mildly in the direction of the winds. The birds did not miss the occasion; they hopped on the branches and chirped (like the Hamonious Chorale group of singers) as if they wanted to leave us with an inerasable impression. The trees did their own too; they dispensed into our nostrils an unending and revitalizing breeze that kept our lungs bellowing and supplying oxygen to our bodies.   

Down there at the Waterfall was the real deal, water flowing in an incredible volume off a steep crag, overhanged by lovely creeping plants and rocky formations in stratas. Once down the rugged cliff, the water stagnates (collects) briefly under the rocky-overhang to form a sizeable pool before gliding gracefully downstream while caressing and fondling the boulders and trees in its track.

Awwwww, the place was so airy and humid like an air-conditioned room, the wind sprinkling droplets of water in all directions. In all sincerity, I didn’t want to return. Ever since I was introduced to hiking (life in the jungle) and was sucked into the magic and adventure that come with it, I have never come face to face with a sight as mystifying and soothing as the Akumersu fall.

Indeed, a world without the greens and the enchanting scenes that nature offers – like this fall - will be a world sapped of all colours, a world that offers no sense of escapism.

What a thrilling and rejuvenating encounter with nature.

I shall return !!!

THE WOUND J.J. RAWLINGS INFLICTED ON MY LEGS

 THE WOUND J.J. RAWLINGS INFLICTED ON MY LEGS

I don’t remember the year but I remember I was in basic school. We had just closed from school and boys were idling in the neighbourhood.

The day had largely been uneventful and we were yearning for an escapade to end the day with so when words went round that J.J. had flown an HARUGONTA (helicopter) to town and landed on the Lasi park at Odumase-Krobo, our happiness was boundless.

Ei, J.J? And guess what, the news spread like a gas-fueled inferno. Human traffic soon started moving in one direction; the young and old swarmed in excitement to the park to catch a glimpse of ‘Junior Jesus’. The name was that simple, J.J, yes J.J., not Jerry John Rawlings, it was just J.J.

In that news, I found a compelling reason to evade the house chores that were waiting for my attention. I was scheduled to pound fufu for the family’s consumption and I was looking for a way to ‘balance from the system’ so I joined the boys, we quickly hatched a plan and took flight.

The prospect of seeing J.J. and his HARUGONTA filled us with so much energy that we sprinted at top speed and yet we didn’t run out of steam even after running for several minutes.

Then we encountered a hurdle; there was this short retaining wall erected across the ‘lungu lungu’ footpath - that meandered through the neighbourhood. It was meant to keep erosion in check.

The first two boys ahead of me scaled the wall with cheeky ease and that gave me a false impression that I could do so at the same speed as they did, so I hopped, stepped and jumped but I ended up miscalculating the height of the wall and the distance from where I jumped. I paid dearly, folks.

The wall scraped my shin and scooped a sizable flesh on my left leg. Jesus Christ of Nazareth ! The pain was damn excruciating. Tears welled in my eyes and rolled down my cheek unbidden. Blood trickled down my foot and left it drenched in no time.

PWe applied our knowledge of local medicine, fetched some acheampong leaves and rubbed it on the wounds to help stop the blood from flowing and yes it did but the wounds became more obvious. Then a dilemma set in, to go watch J.J. or retrace myself back home. 

My friends dragged me along like a wounded soldier, but as should be expected, the incident tamed us and managed to suppress our zeal/enthusiasm. We were no longer as boisterous and spirited as before. Now instead of running, we walked. The other boys walked slowly so that the ‘wounded soldier’ could keep pace with them.

What was more painful? By the time we got to the park, J.J. had flown his HARUGONTA back to Accra and the crowd was dispersing with varied tales on the lips of the people. You should listen to the interesting stories from the ‘early worms’ who arrived early enough to meet the MAGICIAN called J.J.  We cursed our stars and hurled a good dose of the curse at J.J. in absentia.

Because I ran away from pounding the fufu, I dreaded telling old girl about the wounds so I hid it under my trousers for weeks until they festered.

Old girl later discovered the wounds and applied the right remedy to heal them after a marathon of painful treatment sessions, but the scars refused to go, they are on my leg till date.

Oh J.J !!

#JJRawlings #JJ #Rawlings #RIPRAWLINGS #RIPJJRawlings #RawlingsGoesHome

Ny3 hii si n3 I pue ny3 toli p3.

Hahahahaaaa, I ml3 ny3  kpa yumu

NB: First published Wednesday 27th January 2021

DIPO AND KLAMA ARE NOT THE SAME

 DIPO AND KLAMA ARE NOT THE SAME

This year, I drew closer to the Kloyosipklemi festival of the chiefs and people of Yilo Krobo. I made sure I was in town around that period and participated in some of the activities including the pilgrimage to the ancestral home, the Krobo Mountain. I was also at the grand durbar on the invitation of Nene Amoatey Akpatsu Azza VI, Divisional Chief of Nyewer.

Folks, I was awed by a lot of things especially at the durbar, the most enchanting was the klama performance. I was busy savouring the moment; the nice tune; the rich, poetic and historical lyrics and feeding my eyes with the dazzling beauty of the nubile ‘girls’ performing the klama dance when snippets of a conversation between some lads seated next to me hit my eardrum.

My attention shifted to them momentarily. It was obvious from the line of argument that one of them didn’t know the difference between dipo and klama. To one of the guys, once he saw the ladies dressed as they did (in beads, cloths, headgear and dangling loin cloths), and dancing, they were performing dipo.

Nothing was more surprising than the confidence with which the dude was advertising his ignorance about the subject matter. I wasn’t invited to join the conversation so I turned my attention back to the refreshing sight the event was offering me and I made sure I had a single-minded focus on the dancers from that point.

One of the dancers noticed I was keenly interested in what they were doing so she flashed a cheerful grin in my direction and I also winked in acknowledgement. You see your life, you want me to tell you more about that, right? It’s pure ‘toli’, so let’s get back to the essence of this post, the difference between dipo and klama.

Dipo is a whole rite involving different rituals while klama is simply a cultural or folk dance. Let me offer a more detailed explanation.

DIPO: Dipo is a nubility rite - of ancient renown - performed by some of the the Dangme speaking tribes of this beautiful country of ours called Ghana. It involves a  chain of rituals performed for nubile girls with the belief that through the rite, the girls transition into adulthood and obtain ‘full status’ in the tribal community. (Definition partly stolen from Hugo Huber’s book, The Krobo).

Fact is, dipo has come to be associated more with my people, Krobos, than any of the other Dangme tribes. The whole rite has however been greatly impacted by Christianity, formal education, modernity and other socio-economic factors to the extent that the fear and reverence it evoked in the past have waned considerably.

Now, views over its relevance and justifications for its continuous performance are quite mixed. I must say that throughout its changing phases, dipo has aroused debates and generated diverse opinions and controversies which have led to various forms of (usually) skewed analysis and interpretations by different schools of thought. To cut it short, dipo is a whole rite involving a set of rituals.

KLAMA: Klama, on the other hand, is an indigenous dance of Krobo origin, performed mainly at festive occasions - such as during the performance of dipo rites, marriage ceremonies - and rarely at somber events such as funerals of traditional priests, and chiefs.

The klama rhythm or sound is composed of beats from a set of drums, gong and a casaba of gourd or beaded gourd, known locally as fau.

The dance move is characterized by a slow graceful, rhythmic body movement and the shuffling of feet. Typically, the left arm is raised horizontally a little above the waist level, and the wrist is wriggled mildly in tune with the beat while the right arm, which points to the ground swings gently in conformity.

Simply put, klama is a cultural/folk dance and not a ritual or rite.

Click this link for a typical klama rendition: https://youtu.be/j4ZzuCIx7AM. I remember recording and uploading this video about five years ago during an event at the Roman Catholic Parish, Agormanya.

So nobody will begrudge you if you say klama and dipo move hand in hand, but note that they are NOT the same. 

My 2 by 4 explanation. You can add on for purposes of education, folks.

NB: First published Saturday 19th December, 2020

MRS. JEAN A. MENSAH MUST HEAR THIS

 

MRS. JEAN A. MENSAH MUST HEAR THIS

I think you have done well up to this point. You are about reaching the finishing line.

I have, however, made some observations and I feel like sharing with you to aid you round up in grand style and to guide your approach to these kind of exercises, going forward.

I. THE 24 HOUR DECLARATION PROMISE:

The rule of thumb is that in managing people's expectations, particularly during exercises such as these elections, you UNDER-PROMISE and aim at OVER-DELIVERING.

When you came out with the promise to complete the rigorous collation and verification work and declare the result within 24 hours after the end of polls, I was sceptical.

I told myself you were grossly underestimating the work at hand and making no room for eventualities that were sure to be recorded, anyway.

Several hours after failing to meet your self-imposed deadline, you came citing rains, delay in the transmission of results from the some constituencies and the extension of polls in other areas as the reasons for the delay. You ended up boxing yourself into such a tight corner. Going forward, please learn to under-promise and over deliver.

ii. SPEAKING OFF THE CUFF

You spoke off the cuff during your midnight address to the media yesterday during which you listed those inexcusable excuses for the delay in meeting the declaration deadline.

Speaking extemporaneously in an overly charged situation like this is perilous. It creates an unnecessary room for mispronunciation.

Yesterday, you sounded repetitious and made some of us feel jittery because we were dreading a slip. You see, sometimes when you speak off the cuff heh, the understanding can vary from the intended meaning in a way that will surprise you and this is not a good time for such an adventure because any mispronunciation or slip could have rippling effects that will be difficult to manage. That is more the reason (why) you don't even take that needless risk in the first place.

The next time you return to our screens with an address or the ultimate declaration, please stick to a script with carefully measured and thoroughly considered words, no time for excesses; go straight to the points.

"Brevity, they say, is the soul of wit', in other words, being brief is the essence of intelligence.

Be guided accordingly, Madam chair.

NB: First published on Wednesday 9th December 2020

THE NPP SHOWED THE WAY IN 2012

 

THE NPP SHOWED THE WAY IN 2012

After the 2012 Presidential and Parliamentary elections, the NPP had reasons to believe that the presidential figures which were declared in favour of the NDC were massaged and tempered with.

The NPP could have chosen to use other means to contest the result or resist what, in the estimation of the party's leaders - was a stolen verdict.

The leaders did some intelligent reasoning and reflection and decided to head for the court to challenge the outcome of the elections. The process was rigorous and tiring but the most painful part of the issue was that the plaintiff (the NPP) lost the case miserably. The party disagreed with the court's decision but it respected it and went back to the drawing board to restrategise for the next elections.

The party's decision saved us from going down the road of disintegration; candidate Nana Addo and the leaders of the party conducted themselves in a way that went a long way to endear the party to many. That was a very good example set by the NPP.

Now we are experiencing a similar trend with respect to the outcome of the 2020 elections, except that this time, it is the reverse. NPP is in power and the NDC in opposition. The latter is raising issues about the figures and what it is describing as overt and covert actions by the government to subvert the will of the people.

Even before the referee (EC) blows the whistle, the NDC is out there acting in a way that flies in the face of good conduct, inciting supporters, raising tension and anxiety and undermining the sanctity of the ongoing process even while failing to hinge its argument on solid and incontestable facts and figures.

Why wont you wait for the official declaration by the EC to inform your next action. And if you want your people and party supporters to literally run amok in the name of victory celebration, it is only prudent that you release your biological children and family people to lead the procession, after all they stand to benefit even more.

Taflats3, ny3 bu kaa obi3 l3 e f) noko maji?

The NPP showed the way in 2012, and you can't act otherwise.

NB: First published on Tuesday 8th December 2020

AH JOHN DRAMANI MAHAMA !

 

AH JOHN DRAMANI MAHAMA !

Dear H.E John D. Mahama and Hon. Johnson Asiedu Nketia, you just indicated in your address to the media that you will RESIST it should the EC try subverting the will or verdict of the people.

You stated emphatically the number of parliamentary seats your party has won - which puts you in the majority - but you didn't sound emphatic, confident and convincing about the Presidential figures and facts.

What I find more intriguing is your call to your fanatical party supporters to go out and start celebrating ahead of EC's official declaration.

I honestly want to see your children, yes your biological children, leading this jubilation on the street.

Please release your children onto the street to show the way and to prove that you mean what you are calling for.

NB: First published on Tuesday 8th December 2020 

HON. KENNEDY AGYAPONG, YOU DIDN’T MEAN YOUR PROMISE TO THE KROBO PEOPLE?

As the Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo led government’s first term reign draws to a close, the urge to write to and remind Hon. Kennedy Agyapong about a promise he made my people (Krobos) in the heat of the 2016 election campaign has become irresistible.

was in the studio of KW Radio - a local radio station that once operated from Kpong – on the invitation of a colleague journalist, Omanba Kodwo Boafo, who was the regular host for a programme named Board Issues which aired on Saturdays. I went there as a panelist to discuss a topic I don’t readily remember now. It must have been about either the terrible road network in the area or the Akuse boundary dispute between my people and our Shai Osudoku brothers.

Everything was set for us to go on air when information trickled in that Hon. Kennedy Ohene Agyapong, MP for Assin North Constituency, and his entourage had arrived at the station and he badly needed to go on air ahead of a procession/float planned for the next day. Whatever discussion went on between his team and the management of the radio station, I wasn’t privy to. What I remember is that our programme was called off and the slot was offered to Honourable.

Before we could say jack, Hon. Agyapong literally burst into the studio overflowing with confidence and a rare aura. He was trailed by some fanatically spirited party supporters including my own brother, Robert Tetteyfio-Adjase. The hitherto dull atmosphere in the studio got electrified, as should be expected. Party slogans soon filled the air and the studio instantly assumed a red, white and blue colour; Hon. Agyapong was cheered, glorified and if you like hallowed by his youthful aides who kept whooping with laughter and waving and flaunting party paraphernalia with admirable zest and zeal.

I don’t want to say Hon. Agyapong was carried away by the ‘fans’; what I recall is that he became liberal with his promises in a way that subtly suggested that they were impulsively made. I took interest in one of the promises because it offered some hope to the teeming youth and skilled but idle hands in the area.

The Krobo area is noted for the production of mangoes in commercial quantities and Hon. Agyapong reiterated this innumerable times and added that he was saddened and equally fascinated by the sheer number of women traders wearily trading mangoes - at the subsistence level - along the shoulders of the roads. He promised my people a mango factory to create employment and reduce the level of waste that was being experienced by the mango farmers in the area.

He tied the establishment of the factory to votes. All my people needed to do, as per his promise, was to vote for Nana Akuffo Addo to enable him win power and the setting up of the factory was a done deal. I was awed but I was still cautiously optimistic. The thunderous applause from his enthusiastic aides that greeted his proclamation threatened to collapse the storey building housing the radio station. They sang his praise, callers sang his praise too and in a manner that gave the impression that his promise had injected a huge dose of optimism into the people.

These were his words (said partly in twi and translated), “…if you like, vote for Nana Akufo Addo, I will put a mango factory in this three constituencies, challenge me, write it down, we need leaders with vision…” And he cited an example of a similar factory he established with 13 million dollars at Assin Fosu, Assin Nyankomase to be precise.

As my people will put it, ‘Mau n3 be kaa Anago no )’, Nana Addo won the elections. Hon. Teddy Bee, the Parliamentary candidate for Lower Manya, the constituency in which Hon. Agyapong made the promise, also came very close to snatching the seat from the NDC for the very first time. His performance was dreamlike; he reduced what used to be a yawning gap from several thousands to just a little over 300 vote difference, and he did it in a manner that appeared magical for political analysts. To say he unsettled his opponent, Hon. Okletey Terlabie, would be an understatement.

Four years down the line, long after Nana Addo was voted into power and even as the President’s first term draws to a close, the first block for this factory is yet to be molded and conveyed to site. Well, me I don’t know of any acquired land for this purpose, I don’t know of any ongoing project to that effect. I don’t know of any difficulty he has encountered in his bid to set up this factory; all I know is that the promise hasn’t materialized and it doesn’t look like Hon. Agyapong is taking it serious.

Hon. Kennedy Agyapong is noted for walking his talk, he is noted as a man who cares more about keeping his promises and is famous for his inimitable acts of kindness and philanthropy. We all know his liquidity status and can say with an appreciable level of confidence that he can, on his own, marshal resources and raise this factory in record time if indeed he means his promise. That aside, he is well placed in the NPP and the current government and so his ability to pull strings to actualize the promise using state resources is also not in doubt. 

One thing is certain; Hon. Agyapong doesn’t like to be challenged but I am throwing him this challenge to prove to the people of Krobo that he wasn’t taking us for granted when he made what seems to be a promise made on the spur of the moment.

Folks, please tell Hon. that he has an image to redeem, as far as this promise and the Krobo people are concerned.

 NB: First published on Wednesday 2nd December, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE GJA AWARD, MY CATEGORY AND THE STORY BEHIND IT

 

Some have been wondering and others have been asking about the category of award I won on Saturday at the Ghana Journalists’ Association awards.

The category was TRANSPORT AND ROAD SAFETY (PRINT) and the story that won the award was about the preventable accidents that continue to occur in the infamous Asitey curve - located on the Odumase-Oterkpolu road - the resultant fatalities and injuries.

The story was done in partnership with a colleague, Seth J. Bokpe. Our first attempt at telling the story about the disturbing trend was in 2009, eleven solid years ago. I remember we did an extensive investigation into the phenomenon. The two of us had to travel all the way to Koforidua to engage the then Regional Manager of the Ghana Highways Authority. We got the story published in the Daily Graphic newspaper and expected that it would jerk the duty bearers out of their slumber to remedy the situation.

Several years down the line, the situation remained same and more terrible accidents were recorded in rapid succession at the same spot – in the curve located at the end of a steep escarpment.

Between 15^th and 18^th June 2019 alone, there have been three reported accidents, resulting in 10 deaths and injuries to about 63 people. The above statistics include seven deaths and more than 50 injured members of the St. Barbara Catholic Church in Akosombo who were on a return trip from a funeral. A few days after that ghastly accident at the spot, another accident nearby killed three persons. On June 18, a tipper truck went off the road and ended up in the drain to the right of the curve.

In October 2018, a science teacher of the Mangoase Senior High School died at this same spot when the bus on which he and some 56 students were travelling reportedly failed its brake and crashed into the valley.

In this story that won the award, we traced the phenomenon to twenty years back and shared scary statistics including research findings and recommendations on how the recurring crashes could be averted or at least reduced.

We also looked for some of the surviving but maimed victims of the numerous crashes who recounted their ordeal and ‘miserable’ life after the accidents. One of such people was Madam Dede Kosi from Kodjonya whose right leg was amputated as a result of an accident at the same spot 22 years ago.

Madam Kosi who presently uses a prosthetic leg, owned and operated a flourishing business at the time. She was transporting her wares together with some of her colleague traders when they came crashing, an event that threw her life and those of her dependents into disarray. Some of the victims ‘checked out of life’; she was lucky to have survived but she lost a leg. Her business and aspirations came tumbling as a result.

It will interest you to know that not even the Ghana Police Service or the Municipal Assembly could readily produce data on the repeated accidents. That is how serious the situation is. The authorities have absolutely no data to inform their decision on what to. It makes you understand why the situation remains same, because you simply cannot appreciate the severity of the issue without any meaningful data. Anytime accidents occurred at the spot, the authorities went there to transport victims and cleared wreckage/debris at the place apparently in readiness for the next crash. Can you imagine?

And so folks, this is but a gist of the story behind the award. It’s more of a recognition of the effort that goes into the stories I do at leisure. Journalism has been my dream but I found myself doing something else soon after school. For now, it’s more of a past time.

Click the link below and read the award winning story in detail.

If you meet my friend, no, brother, Seth J. Bokpe, somewhere, give him a hug, he is such a skillful writer. His works and how he goes about them make journalism so inviting. 

 

PICTURES:

Pic 1: Seth and I in a pose shortly after receiving the award

Pic 2: A short of the infamous Asitey curve

Pic 3: One of the many vehicles that crashed at in the curve

Pic 4: Madam Dede Kosi, one of the survivors of the many crashes. Her right leg was amputated after her accident in the curve

Pic 5: Award winners from the Graphic Communications Group in a pose with Information Minister, Hon. Kojo Oppong Nkrumah

6. ‘Opana” showcasing the award

DONALD GWIRA, AN ANGEL IN HUMAN FORM

 DONALD GWIRA, AN ANGEL IN HUMAN FORM

Many who have monitored my education and, if you like, career, keep wondering why I ‘betrayed’ my first love’, journalism, and veered into something else soon after graduating from the Ghana Institute of Journalism (GIJ).  Till date, a lot these people who knew about my level of obsession with journalism keep asking what could be keeping me away from the career I was so passionate about, growing up.

That is another story to be told. Today, I simply want to tell you about some really refreshing experiences that have come to convince me beyond doubt that angels exist in human form right here on earth. If you haven’t encountered any, I have.

In 2009, I had a golden opportunity to join the corporate communications department of Zain Telecommunications Ghana (which later transformed into Airtel Ghana); my job title was PR Coordinator and I was mainly in charge of Media Relations - a role I really fancied at the time.

The people I met in there and the interesting learning experiences I went through have been the most compelling set of factors that influenced what I still consider a prudent switch from journalism (my first love) to Public Relations.

Mr. Donald Gwira was one of the bosses I was privileged to work with. He joined the company as the head of the Communications Department around the time I was wrapping up my stint with the firm and so we parted company just around the time our paths crossed. I don’t remember working with (or under) him for more than three months – I had to go and I left. He knew very little about me so I didn’t really expect him to do me any favour.

Unbeknown to me, this man had spotted something in me and took special interest in my career. It was a pleasant surprise when I had a call from one of the breweries to come for assessment for the role of a communications officer, based on Donald’s recommendation. Guess what, I missed that big opportunity narrowly because of some basic errors in the script I produced during the written assessment. 'The thing pain me oooo'.

In my estimation, I had embarrassed him and shredded the confidence he had in me but he proved me wrong and drew even closer. The relationship grew stronger; Donald will not stop pampering me like his own son. He kept showing me the way to the top of the PR profession and throwing more offers at me.

Toward the mid of 2018, I had just resigned from my job due to ill-health and was shuttling between hospitals fiercely fighting my way back to good health. I was gradually mending but there was no immediate plan to return to full time employment. Then the call came from one of these finance companies that someone had strongly recommended me for the position of a Corporate Communications Manager. I couldn’t escape the conclusion that Donald was architect behind the move. A call to him would later confirm that.  

Despite that fact that I was trapped in an ailing body, I was hesitant giving him excuses so I prayed about it and consulted a few friends including 'that boy' called Paa Kwesi Forson to pick their brain on my dilemma – to go or not to go, given the challenges at hand. They were all like ‘go”, don’t allow the sickness to hold you down.  

I attended two interviews; saying they were grueling will be an understatement, but I came top of the candidates and had my offer letter waiting for the agreed date to start work in a new environment and a new sector that promised to be challenging and equally rewarding.

While I was relishing the prospect, I had yet another call from a leading brand in the media space and the news was that someone had recommended me to take up the role of CSR Manager. I attended that interview too. In essence, I had these two opportunities to choose from. I settled for the former, after thorough consideration and took up the Corporate Communications Manager role in May 2018.

You won’t believe that Donald drove, on many occasions, to my office to see how I was faring and offer some tips to enable me excel in the role. I can go on and on and on.  

I think Donald believes in me more than I do myself. When you have people like this around you, you can only reach for the skies. It is this belief in me that makes me feel like I can be (and will be) the next UN Secretary General from Ghana. I have started working on that dream, and bigger ones.

Folks, do convey gratitude to Donald, and remember to tell him I said I will make him proud one day.