40 Plus

Posted in Uncategorized on June 4, 2018 by kola

Inasmuch as I don’t want this article to be an upgrade of an earlier article I wrote about My Life At 40, I still cant help that writing the article in my head has a lot of similarities but let’s see how this will turn out in the end.

So yeah you guessed right and thankfully its another milestone. Yeah! My birth date is today and as usual I’m on a social media blackout and I wonder if WordPress will count as a social media site. I do this every year so I get to appreciate better the people around me who have helped get me to where I am now. After the blackout I get back to a myriad of messages I have to respond to and a whole lot of well wishes.

Thank God for friends because I always thank God for the amazing crop of friends that are my real wealth and I don’t take even one of them for granted.

Furthermore the blackout also gives me time to be reflective on where my life is headed and also quiet time with God and nature to rekindle the bond and thank God Almighty for His grace and mercy so far.

Oluwa osheey!!!

Last time I wrote about the growing trends amongst my age mates noticeably a bald head, greying beards and a pot belly and swore I won’t join the fray. I’m sorry to disappoint that I haven’t joined the fray though I have almost dabbled in it by growing a slight pot belly, which I’m working on killing, the bald head is a package deal and the grey beard too I’m trying but my beard never seems to grow fast enough before my weekly head shave.

It’s interesting how a lot of people despite complaining about the economy are still growing by the day and still throwing lavish parties to cater for the tastes and whims of party revelers who’d just turn their backs and gossip about you (just some though). Those people will hear their “gwee” in via morning (in Paapaa’s voice)

It’s also sad that good causes are not really encouraged but men will rather put money in asses than invest in assets.

What a pity (in Funny Face voice)

At 40 I was happy with my life mostly but still lacked stuff that made me complete. Don’t ask me what

I was living for others and I was happy just being me.

But at times it hit me that I wasn’t complete and when I compared myself to my colleagues and see how I lagged behind in material things but I was happy. Family had my back and I was on top of my game in almost every aspect.

Not to say I’m not happy now but in pursuit of happiness and to be at par I realized I’ve lost some of the self worth I had. It’s not too visible but yes I’ve become more boring and less friendly ignoring people and being offhandish seemingly to people who I used to care about. What was at first a reconciliatory nature has become a callous attitude to cutting people off. Keep asking myself why it’s so and if its an attribute to growing older.

So when I told a couple of boys I play basketball with my age they screamed and it felt pretty good. It reiterated my maxim that you’re as old as you feel and sometimes I feel like a 30 year old until my knees and ankles, even wrists remind me of the wear and tear they’ve undergone.

Life begins at 40 so I guess I’d still sit at the feet of people like Mr MY and his friends at the Alhasan Hotel and listen to their life experiences and learn pretty quickly via that shortcut than waiting for stuff to happen to me that I don’t understand.

Glory to God for a deep sense of understanding and insight into events and I reply that I continue to teach the Wong ones I mentor what it takes to be a citizen of the world.

We are still learning because learning is infinite and wisdom cannot operate without knowledge.

What do I want for my birthday? What I really want is so steamy and raunchy I cant post it in this article but I know where I wanna be which is to be amongst less privileged children just getting pampered and being one of them. Who will change my diaper for me and if I don’t get anybody I just keep crying until I get a diaper change.

Whoever gave us adulthood should come for their thing and I’m relocating to Never Land. I know a sweet Melody who will follow me there with others.

Well time to catch some sleep and I wont make any crazy wishes lest I wake up and they come true so lemme just stick to my going to bed in my birthday suit and blowing hot air on the applied powder in places where the sun don’t shine.

Take it from someone who’s been there and done plenty, the best gift you can give yourself on any day is to just be yourself..

Like I always keep saying it begins with YOU!!


Capital Callousness

Posted in Uncategorized on May 18, 2018 by kola

Today we lost a vibrant young man to death through what can best be described as the callousness of his neighbor. A promising young life was snuffed out because of a single callous action.

Why would you put on the electricity on your fence wall when your neighbor is on the pole with an aluminium ladder against your wall in broad daylight.

What is the capital turning into?

Okay so yesterday on my bus heading into Accra from Tamale I bought lollipop for every child on the bus, as per personal tradition, and I had two left in my pocket today.

Whilst riding the trotro this cute child on her mama’s back wont stop staring at me so we were making faces at each other and laughing.

Then I remembered I have lollipop in my pocket so I took one out and instead of giving directly to child tapped mother on shoulder and said oh lovely child give this to her..

Chale! Mother almost jumped out of her skin and almost on the verge of insult but I think she saw I was married and just put lollipop in per bag.

Then she started there and then to sing Gospel

At this time I was livid so I said excuse me, took her hand and started “father in the name of Jesus I commit this mother and child into yo hand…”

Said a prayer for both of them and sat back. Somehow she was relieved but still tense.

OK my point. This other guy that put on his electric fence what was his motive or was he afraid of being burgled in broad daylight?

The capital has become some way whereby TRUST is pretty much taking away the very humanity we have for each other

Each time I’m in the capital I notice people are becoming more impatient in life than ever before and more frustrated.

What the heck is going on where its even worse amongst Christians than other religions and we rather tend to gravitate to people who pretend to have our interests at heart but really are looking for the best ways to screw you over…

Gradually some of us will just stay where we are welcome and comfy and that for sure ain’t the capital…

Well what do I know..

I’m even too worked up to string my thoughts on straight.

It always begins with YOU!!

Mental Power

Posted in Uncategorized on May 5, 2018 by kola

So this morning in a social group somebody asked if there was any power behind thinking or mental thoughts and how this affected our human psyche. I know too well the power of thinking and thats why I always say the mind is a powerful tool.

Now here is my story of the power of thought and invariably mindset

During a sports festival one time I sprained my ankle and had a tough match two days later. Doctors recommended POP and said couldn’t play that particular match. Recommended complete resting of the leg. No way I could play any sport for at least a month.

When I told coach to reserve my jersey he was not surprised because he knew my mental fortitude when it comes to sports. Once I’d made my mind I’d play I will.

On the day of the game didn’t do anything just limped to training and sat down as the team did drills and was part of the strategy just in case.

Game time and all of a sudden the pain was so unbearable I couldn’t even get outta bed but I had friends carry me to the court after helping me put on my jersey.

There I sat on the team bench wishing I was on the court playing but couldn’t play the first set in the ongoing volleyball match and we lost first two sets in a best of 5 game.

Thats when my mind set in. I now visibly started talking to myself and at a point coach said he saw me walk away and go talk to my aching foot like a person. When he asked if I was ready to play I couldn’t even walk onto the court but had to be carried on to the court. Me and my leg had a conversation right there in front of the crowd of fans..

I told my foot we are gonna defy the doctors and we were gonna do this and have fun winning the game.

My mind was at work.

An hour and half later we won three straight sets and I woke up in the hospital. Apparently I had passed out when the adrenaline rush wore off.

But I learnt an unforgettable lesson to confirm what I have always known..

Once you can think it..
Once you can convince yo self..
Once you know you can do it,
If you put YOUR MIND to it..
Think it..
Conceive it …

It can be done!

It always begins with YOU!!

The Ghana Police and You

Posted in Uncategorized on January 23, 2018 by kola

In this furore about the attack on a police station at Kwabenya resulting in the untimely demise of a member of the police force, lemme also share a personal experience.

International colleagues of my wife had hired a Chevy minivan from Tamale to Accra so they could enjoy a road trip back into the capital before heading to Kotoka to board a flight out. The car was pretty new and shiny and it was that time when robbers were snatching cars and using them for nefarious activities.

The driver wanted to see some relatives of his who lived in Oyarifa so he picked me up from Orgle road at Bubuashie and we decided to use the Gimpa route to avoid the early evening traffic on the N1 through to the mall and further on the highway from Gulf House to Madina. The chosen route will take at through Achimota to Gimpa to Wetlands then Botanical Gardens through Agbogba to Riis junction and off to Oyarifa.

At one point after we had set off I realized that another Chevy of the same make as ours started following us but this one wasn’t registered and also had tinted windows like ours making it impossible to see the occupants. Being suspicious I told the driver to take some pretty unknown routes that I knew were usually loops within Achimota and still the van was on our tail. This confirmed my suspicion that whoever was in that van was up to no good and I could only pray that we could outwit them.

The first thought was to just out drive them but my driver didn’t know Accra too well and the next option that occurred to me was to park at the nearest police station and see if they follow but which police station.

Just after the Botanical Gardens turn things got pretty interesting when they realized the road was less busy and now they tried to get us to stop. It became like a race their van trying to get in front of ours and getting us to stop and other road users didn’t realize what was going on. Not that they could help.

Then I remembered that there was a police post at the Agbogba junction leading to Riis and I told the driver that if we could only get there and park we would be safe. With a new determination the man was bent on getting there whilst the other van was also bent on getting us to stop.

A few meters to the turn my driver sped up and slowed down abruptly and turned at the junction and just stopped right in front of the police station. We got out of the car and run into the police station.

Then the occupants of the other car, about four men dressed in all black clothes also parked right behind our car and also run in after us. It was when one of them shouted in twi, to wit that “hey! It’s a police station” that they all scurried back into their van and with a screeching of tires fled the scene.

There were 3 policemen in the station when we run in and they were just befuddled at what had just happened. None of them had reacted defensively but as human as they were, their first instinct was to run for cover.

The whole thing lasted under a minute and as one of them described it “it felt like a movie scene.”

Now imagine if these guys were armed and still determined to grab us what kinda story will I be telling today.

Our police needs to be better prepared for situations like this and they have to regain the trust of the citizenry to be able to protect us against the ills in society and not be the ones perpetrating those ills themselves as we hear incidents of some policemen involved in criminal activities.

The Kwabenya incident is unfortunate but let’s use it as a watershed for better cooperation between the police and citizens..

It begins with YOU!


The Giants of 92

Posted in Uncategorized on November 30, 2017 by kola

This story is about a group of year group secondary school intake that haven’t met in twenty-five years but thanks to technology and the bond that is created when chance throws two or more people together, they still get together in a reunion. The year is 1987 and it is a hot sunny day in September. The gates of one the most prestigious schools in Ghana is besieged by parents and their wards as today is the arrival day for the fresh intake of matriculating students for the year. The atmosphere when is drive into the school is that of a solemn sense of abandonment, a potpourri of emotions sweeps across the environment from a mild sense confusion to utter amazement at the landscape of the school. For the parents and wards who are visiting the school for the first time it all looks like a scene from a fairy movie with everybody milling about and those who had already gone through the process of registration sitting around with their wards just talking animatedly. For the admitting officers, this is not new. They have seen this many many years and every time it’s the same old thing. Nothing changes much. Parents bring their wards to the school and first they make enquiries about the procedure for registration and then meticulously follow instructions and then when they are done they go around the school looking at the view and later sit down and that’s when the verbal advice column begins with emphasis of upbringing at home. For the students, we look round and we look at each other looking spiffy in our khaki trousers and white shirts neatly tucked in. You were walking with your parents but you kept looking around you and over your shoulder hoping and expecting to see if you already knew any of the boys who were invariably your mates. The other thing too was that you had no idea what to expect and the anticipation tied up like knots in your stomach sending you into autopilot mode such that even though you were walking with your parents or guardians and hearing them talk, half of what they were saying was just blowing over your ears like a silent breeze you didn’t even feel. But hey, the landscape of the school was one that constantly made an impression on every student being admitted into the school. Very soon the moment of truth comes when it is all over and after registration your parents have to leave but not before you get that long pep talk. Mothers are the ones to hug long and weep that for most of the admitted students this is the first time they are leaving home and the comfort of the parents’ bosom. Indeed, inasmuch as we don’t think about it then, but rather in hindsight, it the beginning of a new chapter in the lives of every single one of these matriculating students. They are going higher on in life in a higher education, they are going to learn new plenty new things, make new friends and associates, new life skills and for a school like Ghana Secondary Technical School a lot of us are going to learn how to survive on what you have whether material or innate and hone our skills to use in this line of survival. In the evening after admission where we have been cooling down in the dorms the headmaster of the school calls an assembly of all the admitted students and formally welcomes us to the institution and impress on us how much of a privilege it is to be a student of the school. The best part of the speech is when he says that we should look around us for today a bond has been formed that will depend on each student present to be forged and it can only get stronger as they years wear on. Admittedly we were too young to understand this particular admonishing. Heck most of us were barely teenagers when we were admitted into the school. The headmaster then requests for a cane but contrary to what we are thinking he lets us form a long circular queue with the shortest persons in front. Everybody is baffled at what is going to happen and it is pretty interesting to look at the farthest ends of the circular arrangement and pretty hilarious the prepubescent smallish students barely three-foot-tall and looking like infants are in the front of the queue and also that the biggest boys are found at the extreme end. For an education system that was phasing out when we were admitted into the school, most of the older boys were coming out of the apprenticeship in the middle school so pretty older and long past puberty. Headmaster then walks around with cane stick in hand and starts distributing the classes in alphabetical order from Form 1A to Form 1D. Obviously with a system of class selection like means that the smallest end up in one class and the biggest in one class too. The ingenuity of the class demarcation system is lost on all of us until we become old enough to think it through. Class system is not by who is smarter than who or via an interim assessment test but it ensured that students of the same physical size ended up bonding closer together with each other as they bonded with the rest of their mates. Invariably however we learnt to not only harness or own individual strengths but also depend on the strengths of others where we were lacking individually. The smallest ones, usually good with academics, learn by rote and the biggest ones best with physical activity especially manual labour and including sport, learn by experience. Collaboration was ingrained in us early with this system of just class stratification. Throughout the years, like everything else in life being transient, it was pretty plain that not all of us were going to be at the finishing line. Along the line we lost some of our colleagues to the icy hands of death but their memories and the laughter we shared still lingers on and every time we meet we celebrate knowing them and respect that they are in Heaven looking out for us. Furthermore, the years have been good too and the class is spread all over the world. Thanks to social media and technology, we have been able to keep the camaraderie and friendship and keeping tabs on each other. Social media provided the platform to decide to plan and stage a reunion at the 108th Speech and Prize giving day which marks exactly 25 years for the graduating class of 92 but then there had to be a decision to do something memorable and not just attend the ceremony and leave the alma mater. It was decided that both teaching and non-teaching staff that were around during our intake be rewarded for shaping us into who we had become as adults. The gesture was also to create awareness to the staff that their efforts over the years do not go unnoticed but one day definitely they will be rewarded. This awards ceremony was done as a prelude to the main prize giving and the atmosphere was charged. Seeing the old teachers and having them opening their mouths in awe about how some of us have changed and grown into fine adults and then the best part of getting to call them by their nicknames we created for them and getting away with it was the best part. Back in the day how dare you call your teacher by his nickname but here we were not being treated as students anymore but as equals and laughing and tapping each other on the forearm and the back. This was a new high for some of us. In recognition and appreciation of this awards ceremony one of our most prominent teachers commented that the gesture was ‘highly unprecedented and dangerous’. Knowing his knack for eccentric drama we could only fathom that he meant ‘dangerous’ in his own good way and slang. The awards ceremony out of the way it was time to have fun. This was a homecoming of sorts and as many people as could make it were expected to and it was interesting that inasmuch as not many of our school mates could make it, those who did had mad fun. Throughout the weekend, grown men who were once young boys relived stories of myriads of events with relation to how we survived the school system and made it through till we completed. There were stories of incidents right from the gate and the way past the alleys in the front and back of not only the dormitories and classroom blocks all the way to Down Coast. Listening to the stories felt like the school had been placed into pieces of five-meter quadrants like the new Ghana Post GPS codes. Every inch of space in that quadrant has a story. The best stories however were the ones involving the teachers and that were recounted at the awards ceremony. Pretty sure some of the current students present must have found some of the stories incredulous. Like the story of a certain housemaster who asked for impeccable details of stolen items in order to help locate them and if it was money that was stolen, the complainant had to provide the serial numbers of the money stolen otherwise there was nothing he could do to help. Honestly there are too many stories to recount and each person coming for the homecoming, right from walking through the gates of the school, or driving for that matter, until the moment he laid eyes on his mates who had come earlier already had the memories playing in their heads and a very interesting cunny smile on his face. Somebody drives in and even before he got down from the car there are curious looks as to who it is and he gets down with a wide grin on his face hoping to recognize any of the curious onlookers too. Recognizing a mate became a trait and an adept skill during the homecoming weekend because not being able to recognize who you were addressing sounded pretty much embarrassing but luckily comrades stood in groups and helped each other out with their own verbal facial recognition software. One incident comes to mind when a fellow’s roommate joins the party late and his cabin bunk mate decides to welcome him with ‘ponding’ and after much laughter and hugs they disperse only for him to ask if the same person who he’s been hugging and backslapping was the same as his bunk mate. Well, it is to be expected especially when that same bunk mate is not the four-foot cross eyed geek you used to know but a six foot plus 95kg free spirited social animal. It is evident that the school that we left twenty-five years ago definitely won’t be what we expected to come to unlike any of those European schools that retain traditions to a coded tee. Recently with the increasing numbers in population and also pressure on education, the school has been crowded and the dormitories and facilities overstretched. It has become imperative that old students pitch in to provide infrastructure and it is commendable that the 92-year group has also gotten on the trail. The homecoming weekend just wasn’t about seeing the school we all love and walking it grounds. Meeting each other was crazy fun and we will each carry the memories till eternity but then let us remember our alma mater in our prayers and support her in the little ways we can so we can leave the legacy that our forebears left us to our descendants too. Pretty interesting to know that some of our comrades already have progeny in the school. Pretty commendable and admirable. As we have marked a remarkable year, we pray that we continue to have strength to tell people only the good things about the school and what it has helped shape us to be as adults. We didn’t just go to secondary or high schools to study but we formed bonds that have become everlasting. That is the essence of education that we need to inculcate into our children that school is not always about only the books but also the networking and the associations we form whilst we are in school. Educate the next generation to see the world as such and we will realize the dream of a better world. Like I always say it begins with YOU!! Long live high school reunions..

Hard Lessons

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on September 15, 2017 by kola

I have always maintained that sports has shown me more in life than I ever learnt in thee classroom and recently this notion just keeps reiterating itself and incidents in sporting circles and in sporting activities keeps reinforcing the notion.

In the recent Barcamp Cape Coast that I attended I found myself caught in a passionate discussion with a basketball coach over the importance of sports to youth development. I was reminded of a convocation I attended in one of the leading private colleges in Ghana where a five year plan for the college was on the agenda and there was no mention of any sports. Yeah trust me, not even soccer. Suffice it to say that I had to raise my hand and draw their attention to that important omission.

I tell the youth I have the privilege to mentor that if they don’t do any physical sport they are harming themselves because sports not only acts as exercise but also serves as an outlet for the stress that living in this fast paced global world brings along with it. Not only just that but also there are plenty lessons from playing any sport. When you’re applying for a job and you write on you cv that you’re a team player yet you don’t play any sports how do you understand the dynamics of teamwork in a practical sense.

Today I played a game of basketball and from the very beginning we led in a game that the first team to get to a hundred points wins. At a point in time my team led by over twenty points and at the rate at which the game was going and the synergy within our team it was a foregone conclusion that we had already won the game. But hey! We actually lost the game.

Yeah we did!

Now this is what happened. We were at a crunch time having reached 94 to our opponent’s 86 that instead of luck concentrating on what had enabled us lead the game from the beginning, we were more focused on finishing the game quickly being tired. The bid to finish the game quickly, a narrow view led to my team losing focus of what was more important which is the method to that finishing rather than the finishing itself.

In basketball turnovers means that the opponents tended to have more of the ball and they utilized their possession more than we did and it paid off for them as they gradually inched past us at 99 to win with a single shot.

Painful as it was, it is easy to draw parallels of this loss to our real life everyday situations where we look at the goal and only think of the finishing and not what goes into finishing perfectly. People tend to be narrow minded and fail to consider the bigger picture which is this case would’ve been to just take time and consider all the options. Sometimes albeit all the warnings of people who have been there we believe we are doing the right thing until it doesn’t work out and we recognize our folly but too late.

Well, for me sports will not only continue to teach me lessons but will be what I affectionately call therapy because it keeps my head screwed on straight. I’d therefore advise that if you’re reading this and don’t do any sport, you do find one and participate in, not just watch or comment on. Remember you’re the only one responsible for your own well-being.

Like a always say it begins with YOU!!

Abena Foriwa

Posted in Uncategorized on August 22, 2017 by kola

It was on that fateful Sunday when I was off to support a bosom friend give thanks to God for the life of her mother surviving an illness. We were just in the queue for lunch when I had a phone call from my cousin that you had passed on.

Abena Foriwa is my last surviving grandma on my mother’s side. When the Asante women are extolling the virtues of their Yaa Asantewaa in war, holding her own against the British, she chose her battles well and fought against illiteracy.

With the little that she had from trading she supported her husband Nomo Akufo to ensure that at least her first daughter (my mother) and all her children, were educated.

I’m glad I only called my cousin back after I had eaten that meal because I know Maai (as we all affectionately call you) you would be angry with me to take all that food and just leaving it sitting on the table uneaten because I heard news of your demise. You brought our mothers and uncle up to be strong and the discipline and resilient determination you instilled in them was passed to us.

Dear Maai, I remember when we were little children just toddling about in our underwear you reveled us with stories about our mothers and how each of them behaved when they were our age. We used to love these stories not just so we could tease our mothers when we all got back to our various homes but also to teach us thee rudiments of life.

These lessons were part of the “maintenance time” instituted by you and papaa (as we called our grandpa) at the end of every year.

The “maintenance time” is akin to the family reunion where various branches of the family gather together under one roof at the end of the year to take stock of what has been happening with the whole clan or extended family. Cousins get introduced to each other and it is a time when grudges are settled amongst family members. Younger children look forward to such a time because our favorite uncles and aunts, well to do, will bring gifts to share. It was also sharing time for the family.

Maai leeey, when I heard that you had given your last breath the heaviness that descended on me made me want to be alone and just savor in the memories of you. Within minutes I could do nothing and I felt numb. I couldn’t think of one memory where you weren’t making us laugh especially with you trying to pronounce English words that we your educated grandchildren used on you inadvertently. I remembered the first time you ordered us to stop the racket we were making in the “baafloom” and we actually had to come out with our naked soapy self to hear you say it again before we finished our baths. 😂😂

My first suggestion when I heard the news was not to call my mother until one of her children was with her. Being one of the eldest children she was indeed going to take it hard and as later events proved she did. Thankfully she had company and I’m glad my brothers handled it pretty well. This is a woman who inasmuch as was prepared for the inevitable being a health worker and all, was bawled over by the passing of her last surviving parent. She just wanted to leave the capital and go home to be with her family and now deceased mother. The height of grief makes people do stuff that are not aware of but it is understandable. With loud wails that got the neighbors curious mother insisted on leaving that instant. We didn’t want her traveling alone and that’s how I ended up on a bus to the village with my mother.

Maai your passing makes us sad but getting to the house where you lived and died and where we always visited at this time was one of the hardest moments. Here I was thinking you will still be in your favorite seat right at the first veranda. But that seat was empty. I remember the last time I visited and you were in that seat, you had grown pretty senile (memory loss and recognition) but you knew that no matter how educated I was I still appreciated the traditional things. So you offered me your cup of water and when I drank it all you just pointed to the earthenware pot in the corner and without a word I walked towards it and drank 5 more cups before eating the apem and “krobo salad” auntie prepared.

That smile on your face, as if to say you’re happy your grandchildren didn’t go wayward, is the last memory I have of you.

It was when I sat quietly in the corner listening to the wailing women, your daughters included, that I understood the gravity of your sacrifice and magnanimity. Inasmuch as they were wailing they were actually singing your praises and thanking you for being a loving parent. The woman who had sold her last piece of cloth to buy a chop box and ensure her daughter had provisions to go to boarding school, the mother who will sell produce in the market all day from sunrise to sunset but run home at intervals to ensure that her husband and children had food to eat in the afternoon, the friendly woman the neighbors come to for advise of all sorts regarding all topics, the mother who will beat you with anything she could lay her hands on if you were disobedient especially by refusing to do homework but will protect you from outsiders when they came to molest you. The mother who tucked her children into bed and ensured that the house was kept tidy and plenty more.

Maai leeey!!! as I sat there listening to them I kept wondering who you were. Maya Angelou, an American woman your age mate probably, who also passed on, called you and women like you a Phenomenal Woman. Another woman, Barbara Taylor Bradford, also called you A Woman of Substance. Indeed these are apt descriptions of what exactly you are grandma.

Abena Foriwa as I write this sitting in the dark weeping silently I’m even kind of expecting your frail hands to touch me on the shoulder and reassure me that it’s okay and that you’re in a better place. I feel your presence so much I’m going to put on the lights right now.

Grandma, now I cant stop the tears. I miss you so much. As you go be with Nomo Akufo, Maa Padikuo and the rest of the family already gone ahead, please have a “maintenance” session up there with God Almighty on our behalf that our family will keep enjoying the blessings you left us and we will promise to keep the lessons you taught up holding it close to our bosoms.

Rest well grandma. You have lived a full life of a century and some.

Rest well Maai!

Rest in God’s bosom Abena Foriwa!