thanks to Adwoa Nketia who kept her (1974) photo safe. I'm the little one in the second row, standing between the teacher in the black dress and the head mistress in the middle.On the morning of my Common Entrance Examination 1n 1974, my dad strapped his watch on my wrist and wished me well. I cannot remember in which hall the exam was held but I think it was in an Accra school, perhaps Christ the King. I can still remember the black strap and the face of the watch that he continued to wear for many years.
My dad was old fashioned, the kind of man who wore age and wisdom graciously. He was a good storyteller, converting every day activities of meetings, conferences and travel into highly descriptive and engaging stories of wit, plot and resolution. Just like many daughters, nobody impressed me more than my dad.
After Common Entrance, there was nothing much to do except to wait for results. In Morning Star School, our headmistress, Mrs. Siriboe decided to expose us to Ghanaian Cultural Dance taught by practitioners from the University of Ghana. I remember those afternoons learning Adowa and Kpanlogo. Later on I performed Adowa in our class rendition of an Ananse story adapted for stage. Apart from performing for our school and parents, we also performed the play at the Accra Arts Centre in competition with other schools.
I can still remember our teacher, Mrs. Fabin directing me to put more vehemence in my words, "If that Okyeame ever comes back, which is highly improbable, almost impossible, Executioner!!..."
I guess I was not angry enough and so I lost the part of Ananse to Kwame Binfo.
Another afternoon in the week was filled with Good News Club activities. The rest of the afternoons, I played rounders with my friends or read more Enid Blyton books. Someone introduced me to Mills and Boon books.
My uncle gave me a notebook, a reject from his stationery printing press and then I had the idea to write my father's biography. I proceeded to interview him every evening and then I wrote. I filled many pages, night after night. And when I was done I gave him my notes in my not so beautiful handwriting to read.
My dad was thrilled. He showed my work to his best friend, Professor L.H. Ofosu-Appiah, whom we affectionately called, "Negro Uncle." I think that the subject of the Trans Atlantic Slave Trade was important to him, and along the way someone gave him the name 'Negro-Uncle.'
Professor Ofosu Appiah, had published several Ghanaian biographies and some works in translation from original Greek classics into Twi, a major Ghanaian language. My Negro-Uncle, gave me my first author signed book, in recognition of my effort. It was a biography, "The Life of Lieutenant General Emmanuel Kwasi Kotoka," which I read at least twice. In the inside cover he had written something like, "From one author to another." I have long lost the book but I can't help thinking just how thoughtful he was to recognize and affirm a small effort by a child.
My dad was old fashioned, the kind of man who wore age and wisdom graciously. He was a good storyteller, converting every day activities of meetings, conferences and travel into highly descriptive and engaging stories of wit, plot and resolution. Just like many daughters, nobody impressed me more than my dad.
After Common Entrance, there was nothing much to do except to wait for results. In Morning Star School, our headmistress, Mrs. Siriboe decided to expose us to Ghanaian Cultural Dance taught by practitioners from the University of Ghana. I remember those afternoons learning Adowa and Kpanlogo. Later on I performed Adowa in our class rendition of an Ananse story adapted for stage. Apart from performing for our school and parents, we also performed the play at the Accra Arts Centre in competition with other schools.
I can still remember our teacher, Mrs. Fabin directing me to put more vehemence in my words, "If that Okyeame ever comes back, which is highly improbable, almost impossible, Executioner!!..."
I guess I was not angry enough and so I lost the part of Ananse to Kwame Binfo.
Another afternoon in the week was filled with Good News Club activities. The rest of the afternoons, I played rounders with my friends or read more Enid Blyton books. Someone introduced me to Mills and Boon books.
My uncle gave me a notebook, a reject from his stationery printing press and then I had the idea to write my father's biography. I proceeded to interview him every evening and then I wrote. I filled many pages, night after night. And when I was done I gave him my notes in my not so beautiful handwriting to read.
My dad was thrilled. He showed my work to his best friend, Professor L.H. Ofosu-Appiah, whom we affectionately called, "Negro Uncle." I think that the subject of the Trans Atlantic Slave Trade was important to him, and along the way someone gave him the name 'Negro-Uncle.'
Professor Ofosu Appiah, had published several Ghanaian biographies and some works in translation from original Greek classics into Twi, a major Ghanaian language. My Negro-Uncle, gave me my first author signed book, in recognition of my effort. It was a biography, "The Life of Lieutenant General Emmanuel Kwasi Kotoka," which I read at least twice. In the inside cover he had written something like, "From one author to another." I have long lost the book but I can't help thinking just how thoughtful he was to recognize and affirm a small effort by a child.
