I will Miss You Mum

Kyrɛ mase, Agya kyre mase,….

Mentume ntiase, Ɛyɛ me sum asem

Kyrɛ mase, Agya kyrɛ mase

These are lyrics from one of my mum’s favorite songs. A song performed by Prof Kofi Abraham, one of her favorite Ghanaian gospel artistes. Indeed, I cannot understand and only God can explain why this has to befall me now.

It was past midnight getting to dawn in the U.S while it was past midday getting to the evening in Ghana on that fateful December 12. Gertie had sent me a text message that our mother had been rushed to the hospital and Oforiwaa was with her and everything was being done to make sure she was fine. Alas, when her call came again, I thought it was going to be that she was ok and had been discharged from the hospital, No!!, it was the bad news. Our mother was no more. Indeed, I cannot understand, only God can explain.

Maa, as we affectionately called her, was everything to us. Right from our births, she trained us in the way of the Lord. She lived and walked in the biblical word that, “train up a child in the way he should go and when he’s old, he would not depart from it.” Right from Hohoe, where we spent a chunk of our teenage lives through Tetrem and later to Mampong, Maa always made sure we held our dawn prayers. This has become a part of our family traditions. Maa will always ask us to pray before we eat, drink and even before we go out from the house. She always prayed with us especially before we travel. Her constant fasting and prayers for us have kept us safe and sound.

My mum with my daughter Etornam Abena Amoakoa

Not only that, but she taught us to love the Lord and the things of the Lord. She was a Sunday school teacher, cell group leader and would later become a presbytress, an evangelist and a lay preacher. No wonder my sisters  Oforiwaa, Gertie and I found ourselves in the choir at the Great Commission Church back in the days at Hohoe and later Kumasi, Accra and Mampong. Gertie later became an award winning Sunday school teacher. Our dad always joked that our mum would want to greet everybody after church including the empty chairs and instruments before coming back home. Such was the love our mum had for the Lord. She told us to join any bible believing church where there was no GCCI. I am sure there will be friends at the funerals who would be there not because of anything but because we attend a church other than GCCI. She indeed trained us in the way of the Lord. This, we have also taken up and doing same with our children.

Maa, made sure we had the best of education. Even when our daddy lost his job and it was tough, our mother took it upon herself not only to educate us but to send us to the best schools. All of us attended private school at the time with their expensive school fees, Maa made sure she paid our fees. During the time in Hohoe, Happy Home Preparatory School was the best and most expensive private school. We all attended Happy Home. She singlehandedly saw to it that we had the best of secondary education even if she had to take loans. We all attended boarding schools and not only that but some of the best schools in the country. I attended Kumasi High School and my siblings attended Mawuli School. I remember vividly when she had to use part of her pension gratuity to pay for my admission fees at the Ghana Institute of Journalism. Today, we have education and are all doing well in our respective fields, thanks to our mum’s resolve to see us have the best of education.

My mum with three of her grandchildren, Afriyie, Edem and Ohemaa

She was very responsible making sure we never went hungry. Maa will go borrowing just to make sure we had food to eat or we had enough provisions to send to school. I remember those days when she would bring food from the kitchen of Hohoe E.P Secondary School (HEPSS) where she taught for almost two decades. I also recall when she brought home, food from her students’ practicals. She taught Home Economics and foods and nutrition was part of the courses that students had to cook.

I remember those days when we watched soccer games together. She knew the names of most of the players and it was fun watching games with her. I am a Chelsea fan and she, a Manchester United fan. She would call me especially on Mondays or Tuesdays either to tease me if Chelsea lost or to give excuses if United lost. We both loved Kotoko so it would all be praise for the team or consolation if the team either won or lost. No wonder her favorite television program was Sports Highlights on GTV. She was an all rounder. 

Maa made sure we were happy in our marriages. She told us, if she didn’t enjoy her marriage to the fullest, we had to. Maa supported us in diverse ways during our weddings. She signed Nana Yaw, Oforiwaa and my marriage certificates when we got married and had planned Gertie’s marriage with her and the husband. She actually proposed they did it in Christmas but she never lived to be a part of that. She was a friend to our spouses and a wonderful grandmother to our children. She witnessed the birth of all our children and bathed each and every single one of them spending at least three months with all of her grandchildren after birth. She had a strong bond with our children. They certainly will miss her. She always bought cookies and candies for our kids. She always pampered them. Who will do these things for them again? Indeed most people say you over pampered Edem, No you didn’t it was because you always wanted to do things you couldn’t for us for him.

Our mother also had a wonderful relationship with our friends. She was a mother to our friends as well. She shared in their victories as well as problems. She was in constant touch with them, calling them and making sure they were ok. Indeed, she called one of my childhood friends, Joel just a week before her death and they spoke for more than forty five minutes. Such was the bond our mum had with our friends. My friend and brother Kofi Sah was a close confidant of my mother. Eugene, Maxwell, Kwabena Ansah, Kwame Sarfo, Bob, Brother and my other friends have indeed lost a mother. Who will cook for them when they visit Mampong? Who will advise them when they have problems?

My mum with my other siblings, Nana Yaw, Oforiwaa, Gertie and me

One thing that she always emphasized on was for us her children to be united. She made sure we always came together to spend Christmas. This became a family tradition. I remember the wonderful cakes and other pastries she used to bake during our traditional family Christmas get-togethers. The food and the Christmas carols and the wonderful times we spent together as a family. One thing is for sure, things will never be the same again. Maa, you held us together and we promise to remain united. Our fervent desire and prayer had always been for our mother to live long and enjoy the fruits of her labour. But God knows best.

 In the few weeks before her death, anytime she called me, she emphasized that I always read my bible and pray. My wife was supposed to send the kids to Mampong for vacation. They had planned everything and had spoken on Tuesday then she died on Thursday. It is still sad to believe she is gone. Who am I to question God? I take consolation in the fact that you have gone to a better place; a place where you can pray and intervene for us better.

You always asked me to always sing a song I used to lead the choir sing back in Hohoe, “He will not let me fall”; it is a song I will always sing when things are good or bad. It was one of your favorite songs and you gave me presents anytime I led this song. I now understand why you loved this song. Good bye mum fare thee well I know He will indeed not let me fall.

I look up to the mountains; to hills I turn my eyes,

Who will come to help me? Can I find a place to hide?

 The Lord is there to help me and He will not let me fall,

He will not let me fall; he will not let me fall.

 He’s never weary and he will not let me fall

                                 

Happy Belated Birthday and a Happy Valentine’s Day Mum

My mum would have turned 70 on Tuesday February 11. She died exactly two months to her 70^th birthday. Prior to her death, all her children had special plans for her. I remember discussing having a party for her once with my brother last year. Apparently, he was bringing his wife to join him in Canada and so we had to forgo that idea. I also remember us discussing bringing her to Canada for a surprise visit and we were thinking of how to raise funds for this surprise. Indeed we had discussed this exactly a week before she died. I had planned to tell him when he called again that I would contribute some amount to her trip because she would have passed through my place. (He was to call me on the day my mum died)

 I had also discussed a lot of ideas of surprise events for my mum with my sisters and my wife. But as fate will have it, she never lived to see these surprises. Instead, all the resources are being gathered to give her a befitting burial. I guess we should have done all these before she died perhaps when she was 65, 60 or maybe just every birthday. But who are we to blame the master of the universe who has his own reasons. This has taught me to do whatever I have to do to help anybody today. Tomorrow may never come and “Had I known” is always the language of the fool.

My mum and I, 1994.

All my life, only four people have taken my birthday seriously and have over the years showed a lot of concern on my birthday. Top on the list is my mum the other three are my two sisters and my wife. Growing up, my mum always had something special for me on my birthday. I remember her baking cake, bread or even preparing a special dish on my birthday. During my days there was nothing like taking someone out and even if there was, there was no "decent" place then in Hohoe where I grew up. I’m sure my mum wouldn’t even have the financial wherewithal to take me out on my birthday even if there was. In spite of all these, she always remembered my birthday. During my days in Kumasi High School, she didn’t visit me that regularly but on the few occasions she came, she timed her visits to coincide with my birthday. My mum has wished me a happy birthday every birthday of my life as far as I can remember. So have my two sisters and my wife since we started dating and subsequently married.

For some reasons which I don’t understand, I always forgot hers and so my sisters always called me to remind me to wish my mum a happy birthday. Last year, her birthday was in my plans but I remember my sisters and my wife had to call me early in the morning to remind me. I had an assignment at the White House so was very busy. I managed to call her around 5 pm EST  which was around 11 pm GMT. She was happy and told me she knew I was going to call her. After wishing her a happy birthday, our conversation ended up with her wishing me well and more blessings than I wished her.

My mum also wished all my siblings a happy birthday and gave them special treats in her own right. She always reminded me to call my siblings to wish them well on their birthdays. She kept the birthdays of almost all the people who stayed with her and other family members. She made birthdays simply enjoyable.

My mum and I on my graduation day, 2007

Growing up, we never placed so much value on Valentine’s Day. It was in Kumasi High School that I learnt to wish my mother a happy Val’s Day. I will talk about that one day. Ever since, I have always called my mum to wish her. Last year, when I called, she said she was expecting me to wish her and that I was the only person who makes her feel the spirit behind Valentine’s Day.  I felt proud.  I could not call her on her birthday and I can’t wish her a happy Valentine’s Day but all I can say is that, in spite of her financial difficulties at the time, she made our birthdays wonderful. We couldn’t make hers special as we planned. Just when we thought we were going to make this year a year to remember for her, she left.

Happy Belated Birthday Maa!!! Happy Valentine’s Day Mum!!! I know you are reading this with a smile. Just as you made my birthdays special I have learnt to do whatever I have to do now to make other people's days

special. I don’t have to be rich to make people happy. Thanks for all you’ve done.

Happy 70^th Anniversary.

My Mum, Marriage, Family and Friends

One thing my mum always wished for her children was a happy marriage. My mum got her marriage registered in 1974 at the Registrar General's Office in Accra. My dad had done the traditional rites two years earlier. She had four of us, boy, a girl, another girl and me in that order. She lost two children in between the first. My mum’s marriage was not a happy one. She once told me she has never enjoyed marriage like some of our pastors did. She was telling me of how she admired how one of her spiritual fathers, Rev. JFK Mensah was talking about his wife.

My dad was not the ideal husband one would ever be proud of as a wife. But my mum

 made her marriage such that, most people were surprised how she survived it. In their first few years of marriage, a child my dad had with another woman long before he married my mum had been brought to the house because the child’s mother had decided she was not going to look after him again. Any wife in my mum’s shoes would have refused to look after a child she was never aware of or even left the marriage but my mum never did that. She took care of the child through his basic education right to the university. Today, he is doing very well in his field of endeavor. He was not the only one my mum took care of.  She also took care of children of other family members. Most of the people my mum took care of were members of my dad’s family.

My dad and mum as they formalized their marriage in 1974

Today, most of them are doing well in their respective fields. They were mostly children of my dad’s siblings who stayed with her and attended school or had to be put into a profession all through my mum’s efforts. At a family meeting one of these beneficiaries who is a cousin boldly said my mum never took care of her, but it is a well known fact that she did. When I told my mum, she only told me not to worry but that she was happy my cousin was doing well and that was what mattered most to her. She was not too worried about the level of ingratitude showed by this cousin or others she singlehandedly looked after. She was rather happy they were doing well. Of course some of them always thanked her for taking care of them during their stay with her. Sometimes, I tell myself, if my mum had not looked after these people especially the “ungrateful ones” and had left them to their fate, maybe, she would have had enough energy and resources to take care of us her children. But she “always left everything” to God.

My mum also had an excellent relationship with other members of my dad’s family. Not only them but other people from my dad’s hometown, such was the relationship that, till her death, wherever she was, my dad’s family members always came to visit her. I am sure most of them will also be at her funeral not because of my dad but because of the personal relationship she had with them. Another interesting thing was that, she also learnt and spoke the native Avatime language fluently. I will dwell on my mum’s linguistics prowess in subsequent articles.

During the hard times, my mum never complained and always advised us never to discuss our marital issues with anyone. Determined to see us succeed in marriage, my mum made sure she was part of planning our weddings and marriage ceremonies. She sponsored my big brother and sister’s weddings and also prepared the pastries served at the weddings. Yes, that was how far my mum went to make sure we had a happy marriage. During my wedding at Akuafo Hall at the University of Ghana in 2010, my mum asked her friend to prepare pastries because she didn’t have the time to prepare them herself. We didn’t plan to include pastries during refreshment. So if you enjoyed pastries at my wedding, my mum sponsored it.

My mum, me and my wife on our engagement day 25th March 2010

She also signed the marriage certificates at all our weddings except my sister Gertie’s.  Indeed, she had planned Gertie’s wedding with her and suggested to her to push the ceremony to Christmas only for her to die two weeks before the time. She wished us well in our marriage so much that she was very close to our spouses. Indeed, our spouses will attest to the fact that, not all mother-in-laws will have a relationship like our mum had with them. My mum spent at least two months with all her grandchildren when they were born bathing them and making sure their mothers were very fine before she left. My mum had eleven grandchildren.

Today, we are all happy in our marriages and we hope it continues like this till the end. After all, in her difficult marriage, she lived the Christian marital principle “for better, for worse” and stayed till death parted them. She also had an excellent relationship with our children- her grandchildren. She loved them and they loved her. She had special names for all of them. For example, she called my daughter Etornam Abena Amoakoa whom I named after her “Mommie” a name most people now call my daughter.

As indicated elsewhere, my dad did not live up to his duties as a father and a husband satisfactorily perhaps due to his early retirement from government work. It was my mum who took care of us and the other family members who stayed with us. She had friends who were well connected. I stated in my last article how I got to Kumasi High School. I remember I was suffering from a skin problem in the early 90s. One of my mum’s closest confidants and a business man in Hohoe, Mr. John Kwabena Adom, saw my situation and took me to Rabito Clinic in Osu, Accra. Rabito clinic remains one of the best and most expensive clinics when it comes to issues of dermatology. All the money my mum had then was 20,000 cedis now 2 cedis. The man spent more than 100,000 cedis now 10 cedis. In the early 90s, that was a fortune. Wofa as I called Mr Adom, never took any money from me but made sure my mum took me for check up until I was okay.

Wofa also took me to John Teye Memorial School to write the entrance exams because of my music talents. The school was noted for its musical prowess in the days. I was on the waiting list for a long time and we had to abandon the idea in the end. Another of my mum’s friends Mrs Joyce Adom also took me as a son sponsoring all my pre-secondary school classes and all my secondary school vacation classes from first year to final year. Not only that, her son Joshua became my brother. Till today, people still think I’m her last born son. Other friends of my mum like the Dzimega family of Hohoe also took me as a son and people also think I am the last of the Dzimega children. My mum’s other friends also helped my other siblings one way or the other. Yes such was the strength and influence of my mum’s friendship.

My mum signing my marriage certificate on 27th March 2010

In my previous article, I wrote about how my mum took my friends as sons. She was always in constant touch with them. People see my friend and brother Kofi Sah who lived close to my mum in Mampong as my mum’s son and rightly so because she took him as such and he also took her as a mother. They both knew each other’s movement because they were in constant communication. My mum called one of my childhood best friends Joel, a week before she died and they spoke for more than forty five minutes. Yes, that was my mum. There was no day that my mum would call and wouldn’t ask of at least three of my friends or would not tell me about one or two of my siblings’ friends. I dare say she took our friendships with our friends even more seriously than ourselves.

I am happy she left us with friends we can depend on and call parents any day. I am happy she made us choose some of the most responsible friends. My mum’s choice of friends helped me to make friends who always had and continue to have positive influence on my life. She taught me that, once you help someone, forget whether the person shows appreciation or not. She taught me to be a responsible father and husband. She helped me to understand that, if she didn’t enjoy her marriage, I should enjoy mine and make my wife happy.

Thanks mum; I promise to continue being a responsible father and a good husband.  Rest in Peace.

My Mum on KUHIS Day

Today is the 29th of January, a day set aside by my 2001 year group of Kumasi High School mates as KUHIS Day. It was established to commemorate our journey to Toronto Desert as we call our Alma mater. It started last year and on this day, every alumni is supposed to wear something KUHIS on this day. All old boys are known as Mmrantiɛ (It means Gentlemen in the local Twi language). So as an Abrantiɛ on this day, I dedicate my KUHIS Day to the memory of my late mum, Kate Afia Amoakoah Ameh.

On January 29th 1999, my mum and my sister brought me to Kumasi High School to start senior secondary education. My admission to Kumasi High School was by luck even though it was my first choice school. Let me explain this. Back in the junior secondary school, students are made to choose three senior secondary schools they wish to attend in order of preference. After passing the Basic Education Certificate Exams (BECE), the schools write to you offering admission.  Most students don’t get their first choice schools because other students would have performed better.

As it turned out, I didn't perform well much to my surprise. I had aggregate 15. The best aggregate or grade should be aggregate 6 or better. Don’t get this twisted; I was one of the best students in junior secondary school. In 1996, I was adjudged the best student at the junior secondary level in the whole of the Hohoe District. The school had faith in ten of us to do better in the BECE; the best performer had aggregate 14. My school’s performance was just bad in 1998. We still don’t understand.

Kumasi High School had topped the senior secondary school exams in the whole of Ashanti Region in 1998 and so most JSS students had chosen Kumasi High School as their first choice school. My mum had just moved on transfer to teach in the Ashanti Region after more than twenty-three years of teaching in the Volta Region that was the reason why I had to choose a school in the Ashanti Region. As a very good student, I had to choose the best and it was Kumasi High School. But with these grades, there was no way I was going to get to the Toronto Desert.

My mum had just started teaching at Tetrem Secondary School in the Ashanti Region. Luckily for her, the assistant headmaster who was a very good friend of my mum was an Abrantiɛ. Not only was he an Abrantiɛ but an influential one. The long and short of this is that, with my grades, I got admission to Kumasi High School, thanks to my mum’s friend. He was Richard.

So on that fateful 29^th January, my mum, my sister Gertie and I set off for the first day of three years of excitement I will never regret. I used an old trunk my mum used back in her days at training college. Gertie had also gained to Asanteman Secondary School on transfer from the Volta Region. My dad was not working and was on a meager retirement benefit. So the burden was on my mum. My mum’s priority was the school fees and so I didn’t get the luxury of getting new items. The only new items were one pair of used black shoes, brown sandals, one black belt and one brown belt. My mum couldn’t afford white shirts and so my dad had to part with two white shirts. My mum couldn’t afford hiring a taxi so we had to pick a tro-tro from Dichemso to Roman Hill then to High School junction and then to the gates of High School. I had to carry my trunk on my head and sister also had to carry my chop box.

From l, standing Eugene, Collins, Fred, Kwame, Mawell, Akyena, Ice T,
Pobih, Fred, Slombo. From l, squating, Kwame N, Banahene, Totally
Pupulampu, Asantehene, my mates back in class, 2000.

Back in the days, immediately a new student arrived, there were seniors at the gate and they will shout “Ebi aba oooo!!!!!” meaning, “another one has arrived.” Immediately we arrived, one senior, Dennis Kusi whose nick name was KKD approached us and assured my mum of his help. KKD took us through all the formalities of registration. Luckily, I found myself in the same house as him- Osei Bonsu house also known as House 2. KKD made me feel very comfortable and to settle. He was very influential and used his influence to make sure that I didn’t provide a cutlass and hoe as was the requirement. We couldn’t afford to buy. I never took shito (specially made stew) to school until once in second year. KKD gave me to Daniel Agyekum as school father. Agyekum was a good school father but KKD was the god father. That was how come I settled in House 2.

Back in House 2, I was in room 14 with Kwabena Boateng, Otis Addai Dua, Prince Afriyie Boateng aka NBA, Obed Agyema, Kwaku Ahenkan and other second year guys like Barrow, Big Daddy Kay, the late Toxic and the rest. I later moved to the common room with Kwabena, Kwaku and went on to the prefects’ room with Kwabena in final year. Kwabena was my roommate from first year to final year.

Then dining hall prefect, Aryeetey handing over to me in 2000

In the classroom, I found myself in the General Arts class. Popularly known as Arts2, we were the rowdiest, loudest and most stubborn right from the first year to the final year. We had some of the brightest students. For the three years that we were in school the first five best students in English Language exams were students from my class and I was one of the students. Our only problem was mathematics and science. I’ll leave that for another day. We were very united and loved each other. We had mates like, Eugene Quarcoe, Kwabena Pobih, Totally, Kofi Sah, Maxwell Appiah, Friki Tal and other wonderful guys. We had cliques; there was Friki Tal and the boys, Sisqo and his boys. Eugene Quarcoe became the guy who gave most of the nick names. You rejected his given nick name at your own peril. Yes, such was the influence of Kabila, a nickname we gave him in class because of his big head. I later found myself in his clique with people like Kosovo, a name Kabila gave, Root prof, Kwame Sarfo, Maxwell Appiah and a few others. We have taken our friendship to another level and now we find ourselves more like brothers than friends.

It was hard paying my school fees and that of my sister. My mother therefore came to meet then headmaster, Samuel Mensah whose nickname was Gadhaffi(whose sons have also become my brothers). Mr. Mensah told my mum not to ever worry about my school fees again because he understood her plight. And so I was one of the few students who paid fees at his convenience. Till her death, she always praised and spoke good things about Mr. Mensah and indeed he was one of the people who gave my mum some respite in terms of finances.

I completed Kumasi High school without owing the school thanks to the arrangement between my mum and then headmaster. My mum encouraged me to stand for the position of dining hall prefect when I declared my intentions. She was everything for me during my days at the desert. She didn’t visit that frequently but always asked of my friends. It was therefore no surprise when she immediately became close to my friends and they took her as a mother till her death. She told me, she was happy I attended the school and completed in spite of all the problems. I also didn’t disgrace her, I did very well in the final exams, and I have very responsible friends she took as sons.

On this day, I celebrate my mum for making friends with her assistant headmaster who gave me admission. If my mum were to be very unfriendly and didn’t show respect to him, I wouldn’t have attended Kumasi High school. If she hadn’t taken that initiative to go and see the headmaster, I would have been the laughing stalk of the school. Till today, none of my friends knew this. I am who I am because of the training I got from Kumasi High school. I don’t regret attending this school and I thank my mum for sending me there. I celebrate her because she could have easily told me to attend her school.   

Rest in Peace mum, I will always remember the conversations we always had about my school. You were very interested in giving me the education I want. On KUHIS Day, I salute you. Thanks for making me an Abrantiɛ.

Celebrating my mum

It's been a while since I wrote on this blog
This is because, i have been busy with my other two blogs.
But I have decided to be more active on this blog from hence.
For the next few weeks, my posts will be about my mum.
Yes, my mum. I lost my mum on December 12 last year.
It has been tough for me and my siblings but I think I should celebrate
her rather than mourn her.
My late mum was called Kate Afia Amoakoa Ameh nee Addi.
Most people knew as Mama Kate.
She taught for thirty three years. Her career spanned four of the ten regions in Ghana.
She taught in the Greater Accra, Eastern, Volta and Ashanti regions.
She began at the Ashanti region and ended at the Ashanti region but spent more than
twenty three years in the Volta Region.
I will be writing more on her in the days to come.
I will miss her but I know she's in a good place.

From busy New York to D.C., the ghost town

We visit the Apollo Theater in Harlem after dinner.

The excitement that generated in the newsroom when our boss gave us our tickets for our trip to New York was one that cannot be explained. For some of my colleagues, it was a homecoming and for others, a dream trip come true.
It was the College Media Association Spring National Convention. Our boss had sorted our everything from transport, hotel accommodation, conference registration and, of course, per diem.

It was one of the coolest train rides for me that Saturday as I Facebooked, Tweeted and listened to some very good highlife music from Kojo Antwi, Kwabena Kwabena and Youssour N’dour on my laptop. There was wifi access for the three-hour trip, thanks to Amtrak. We arrived in the afternoon, and after checking in our hotel room, we toured the city.
My colleague, Matt Nelson, and I ended up at the 9/11 Memorial site. For me, it was a humbling experience to see this, and I shed tears. I watched the 9/11 attacks almost 12 years ago on CNN in a friend’s house, and my visit to the site coincided with his birthday. I will never forget the experience.

At Times Square

Then my friend and colleague Selase Kove gave me a tour of his school, the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, after which we went to a Ghanaian restaurant. There, I enjoyed some Ghanaian wakye and took some banku and tilapia to enjoy in my hotel room.
The conference started on Sunday, and I enjoyed some sessions. The showcase on Design: From Page 1 to the Digital Space with CNN’s Kyle Ellis was a masterpiece. Sunday’s keynote session with NBC’s Willie Geist was very instructive and interesting. I really learned a lot and will carry most of the things I learned into my career. I made a few friends as well.
My colleagues and I also had a nice evening in Times Square. Another interesting moment was our dinner at Sylvia’s Queen of Soul Food Restaurant in Harlem where fried chicken and shrimp and grits were popular orders.

The trip to Columbia to meet the dean of student affairs with my colleagues, Amer Taleb, Ian Kullgren and Jasmine Aguilera also made me hungrier to go to Columbia to do graduate studies in journalism.

Inside the World Room @ Columbia Journalism School

The pizza Matt introduced me to and the walk past the New York Times building at night summed up one of the nicest experiences.
Alas, our days at New York were over, and we had to head back to D.C. Kojo Antwi, as usual, kept me company until the end of the trip.
One thing I was told when I was coming to D.C. was that it was a very busy place with a lot of people who go about their duties mostly in suits. From our first day until we boarded the train back to D.C., New York looked choked, congested and busy.

When we waited in the Metro tunnel at Union Station after getting off the train, I felt a vast different between the two cities, and then I concluded:  D.C. is a ghost town compared to New York.



http://shfwire.com/busy-new-york-dc-ghost-town
 

From Rosa Parks’s statue to NPF’s dinner dance

My colleagues and me at the National Press Foundation Dinner.

Wednesday was one of the busiest days at the bureau for my colleagues and me.
Some of us had one event or the other to attend; others had an interview or two to do while others had to complete their stories.
I had to attend the unveiling of a nine-foot tall bronze statue of Rosa Parks at Statuary Hall, in the Capitol.
Parks’s refusal to give up a seat for a white man on a bus in Montgomery, Ala. in 1955 sparked a bus boycott for a year and later resulted in the abolition of the segregation law. Parks has been credited as the mother of modern day civil rights advocacy.
 This event brought President Barack Obama and congressional leaders together and they paid
 glowing tribute to a woman whose single action more than half a century ago has affected U.S. history. It was refreshing to see her family members from across the U.S. at the Capitol gracing the occasion.
It was also a delight to see civil rights advocate, the Rev. Jesse Jackson, at the event. I was glad when he granted me an interview and spoke of the life of Parks.
The event taught me a lesson that any action we take whether good or bad could have impact on generations so many years later.

Inside the auditorium where the NPF dinner took place

By the time I came back, most of my colleagues were busily getting their stories done early enough to be ready for the 30^th annual National Press Foundation dinner and awards. By 6:30 p.m., we were all done for the day and were headed for one of the NPF’s flagship programs for the year.
The event brought together some of the heavy weights of the U.S. media and rewarded journalists who had distinguished themselves in the year under review.
As a Ghanaian, two of the awards caught my attention most. First of all, the award for best Excellence in Online Journalism Award won by The Wall Street Journal will be something Gary Al Smith, former editor of my school’s newspaper “Communicator” will be happy about. He has always advocated for a category at the Ghana Journalists Awards for a category solely for online journalists.
Another award was the W.M. Kiplinger Award for Distinguished Contributions to Journalism which was won by Frank Deford, who writes for NPR, HBO and Sports Illustrated. Deford reminds me of veteran sports journalist Kwabena Yeboah. Yeboah is arguably Ghana’s best sports journalist. I pray he gets duly recognized for his contribution to Ghana’s sports journalism just like Deford.

With my colleague Amy Slanchick

All the award winners either mentioned or dedicated their awards to their colleagues in the newsroom. This taught me that, no matter how good a journalist is, he still needs the help of others. I learned the essence of unity and team building.

With good drinks at the pre-dinner reception and a very good meal at the dinner and a wonderful post-dinner party, my colleagues and I had a lot of fun, met new people but were sad it was over so soon. We were challenged and inspired by the stories of the award winners and encouraged ourselves to work hard. Who knows, some of us if not all could be back at NPF’s awards dinner, not as mere participants but as award winners.

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