The Art Matriarch

Frances Ademola tells the story of how art has evolved in Ghana forty years since setting up her gallery The Loom.

By OLOLADE ADEWUYI

From the creative ambience inside of her forty year old gallery called The Loom on Kwame Nkrumah Road, Adabraka, Accra, Frances Ademola has over seen the Ghanaian art industry and watched it evolve over time. Returning to Accra in 1969 after a 12 year sojourn in Nigeria where she had been married to the late Adenekan, son of Sir Adetokunbo Ademola, former chief justice of Nigeria, she found out that the Ghanaian art scene could do with some tinkering. Stimulated by the creative atmosphere of Ibadan where she had resided, she craved to re-enact something of that nature in Accra.

“I was stimulated by Nigerian art and creativity and was curious to find out more about the art of my country” says 81 year-old Aunty Frances as she is fondly called by many. Ben Enwonwu, Bruce Onobrapkeya and Jimoh Buraimoh among many others were some of the major artists that she recalls coming into contact with during her sojourn in Nigeria. She had also worked as an assistant to author Chinua Achebe at the Talks Department of the Nigeria Broadcasting Corporation as well as edited an anthology of Nigerian poetry and prose titled Reflections that was published by the African Universities Press.

Hence, when she returned to Accra she set up The Loom, the premier privately-owned and run art gallery in the city. Forty years later, the fruits of her labour can be found around the gallery which now houses the works of about 120 artists, mostly Ghanaians. It was a different ball game when she commenced business in 1969 as there was a dearth of local artists. “When I started I could count the number of artists on the fingers of two hands” she says. The more notable artists were the ones who had come in through the academia like Ablade Glover, Ato Delaquis, Ben Offei-Nyarko and Larry Otoo. She feels the encouragement that she has given others outside of the academic environment has made more artists come out into the open with their unique creative eye different from those that attended art schools. Even then Ademola says most of the artists who were teachers have now opened their own art schools as an avenue to train artists who do no not have the requisite qualifications to enter academic institutions. “Art is no longer the preserve of the educated or elite” she says “everybody can (now) be an artist. I encouraged that revolution” she says with pride. “She has made immense contributions to the development and growth of art in Ghana since the 1960s and also helped create a forum for intellectual discourse of art” says John Owoo, a prominent Ghanaian culture writer and journalist.

Even though Ademola misses the vibrancy of the Nigerian art scene which she still keeps up with during visits to the country, she thinks Ghanaian artists are increasingly coming to their own. She feels that the reason for the vibrancy in the Nigerian art environment was because many Nigerians stayed true to their roots and kept their identity intact because of the diversity in the country. She feels Ghanaians were a little inclined to be Europeanized perhaps losing their identity until independence thereby keeping the creative scene on the back burner. But a cultural rejuvenation which is represented by the Akan word and symbol Sankofa has seen many Ghanaians reach back into the past to fetch the lost legacies. For a long time she used to receive works from artists who wanted to cater to the tourists’ market by painting works which they referred to as “African”, she has seen a shift into more serious work over time with greater experimentation among artists.

Designed by Kenneth Scott, an Australian architect, the Loom is located inside the Samlotte House named after her parents Sir Samuel and Lady Charlotte Quarshie-Idun, once the chief justice of Western Nigeria and later the first president of the Court of Appeal for Eastern Africa. It houses works of artists with varying backgrounds and the oldest artist with works on display in the gallery is about 95 years-old while the youngest is barely fifteen. “The future’s taken care of” she says. “Art is on-going and new artists are coming all the time”. Gearing up to take over the affairs of the gallery when she retires is her son Adekoye whom she says will bring in “21^st century ideas” to run the place. But before then, she makes it a point to reject works which are copies of other people’s artworks. “I’m the eye of the buyer. It’s a good thing that I’m not an artist” she concludes saying “this saves me from being prejudiced”.

Rachel Watanabe-Baton makes Shell's video with Tinny

Rachel (m) gives last minute direction to Tinny and an actress

Women have generally been relegated in the world of hip hop music to the background, and when they take centre stage, it is either as hos for the pimps or as video girls who shake their behinds for the rap stars. Hip hop has traditionally been uncomplimentary of women; it denigrates the female sex and calls it all sorts of names. And when women get involved in calling the shots, they either do it as foxy vixens that mouth foul words and proclaim their ability to match the male folk in their sexual escapades.

Not often does a woman come in the mould of music video director in that male-centric industry. But when one finds a Harvard graduate who has spent almost twenty years in the industry as a producer, writer and director, then one knows you have gotten an unusual woman.

When Rachel Watanabe-Batton stepped into the conference hall at Alisa Hotel on Thursday in a short navy blue dress and was introduced by MTV Base as the international music video director for hip life star Tinny’s new song “Incomplete”, not many people hailed her as a star. The director who stands at about 5”5 in tall entered the hall with a smile on her face. And when it was time for her to give a little speech, she spoke about how she was happy to be in Ghana, and back home in Africa, land of her father’s family. She intimated everyone about her plans for the video and how tight their schedule was.

At the end of the press brief I walked up to her to get a little bit of information about her job and how she had mentioned having Nigerian roots during her speech. From the very first instant I saw her I could tell she had Japanese roots. And seeing her name written on the file folders that were distributed, I could confirm she was really oriental but when she mentioned her African roots, she became more interesting.

And then she exclaims; “I’m an Ibo girl o”, in an unmistaken American accent. “My father is a professor at Nsukka (University of Nigeria) and he hails from Awka but my mother is Japanese-American”, she quickly adds.

Her infectious nature takes over and we talk about her family and how she was in Africa as a kid but has not been back for a long time even as her father visits the US often when he comes to see her and her six sisters. I ask if she’s ever thought of coming to do more work in Africa and she says she would love to come more often and came this time because of her deep interest in giving something back to Africa when she could have been doing some other jobs.

I then ask if I could get the opportunity of seeing her work behind the scenes on her video shoot. She says it will be okay but directs me to get permission from the MTV Base management who were calling the shots for the project. I speak to Jandre Louw, events manager for the channel and he says it will be good and that they’ll give me a call next day when they are set.

On Friday, I get a call from Dinesha Moonsamy, publicist for the project and she tells me to head to the La Pleasure Beach where the crew was having an afternoon shoot. I arrive the set just in the thick of business and meet the star of the day, Tinny, who seems to be enjoying it all. I meet Rachel, now dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans that float on top of her ankle, and she says she’s been trying to get through to me all day but unfortunately misplaced my card in the hustle and bustle of her work. Here on her work turf she doesn’t look anywhere as elegant as she did the previous day. She looks the perfect part in her work fatigue.

She introduces me to the production manager, a lady who asks me to make myself at home but not to get in front of the behind the scenes camera. I nod in agreement and take out my camera to take shots.

“Action” and then “cut, lets do that again”, she calls out. The scene is set at a bar where Tinny is surrounded by a bevy of beauties. He seems to be enjoying all the attention until he makes up his mind to walk away from it all to go back to his true love without whom he is incomplete, the title of the song.

I watch in excitement as she directs every scene from her story board with a practiced eye carrying everybody along with an aura of respect. Her energy and commitment to her job was second to none for that period of time. She makes Tinny do the bar scene over and over before she finds a perfect flow.

After a while, she goes over to the make up artist to monitor her as she applies some foundation on the lead female character’s face.

“I would like to see the colour on her face”, she tells the lady with candor. She hangs around awhile watching every stroke of the brush as it leaves mascara on the young actress’s face.

Once or twice I catch her gaze, she looks away and continues with her work. I then seek out a member of Tinny’s management who tells me how “tremendous” her work has been. During break for lunch I catch up with her and she gives me a few minutes of talk time.

I ask about her experience and the difference for her working on that set and working on a New York set for Nas or Jay Z.

“The issues are the same,” she says. “Some things are not working, whether it’s the art department or some people are being late.

“The difference is really that we’re also working as a workshop and some of the people are students. So you want them to have a chance to learn so you have a difficulty of professionalism, of them knowing what their job is.

“My camera men and electricians have been really professional and more committed probably. My DP grabbed his lunch and took his whole crew to set up another shot whereas in the US, people will be griping about meal penalties. The crew is more committed here.”

Then I ask about her challenging role as a female director in hip hop where women are not given much respect.

“That has given me an advantage, actually,” she replies “because when I’m working with the female talents, I’m able to relate with what’s going to bother them. In terms of what goes on set, I try to ensure that they’re treated with respect.

Has she had any problems with guys on set?

“No, I work with an all male crew all the time. Somebody shuts you up on the street all the time in normal life, you just need to know how to handle yourself”, she said.

“And if you carry yourself well, people treat you well. Some men are very sexist but in general I try to look beyond it and just do my work.”

Just as I’m about to ask my next question on equipment and other stuff, someone comes to drag her away. I hang around awhile and see she’s not coming back, work had begun in earnest. And they would continue shooting the video till past 1 O’clock a.m. Everybody is exhausted when they arrive at Aphrodisiac for the after party where DJ Prince Charles from the UK rules the turn table.

But in true showbiz fashion, we all party into the wee hours of the morning, drowning out the stress in booze and heavy music awaiting the outcome of Tinny’s eventful video shoot.

C'est mon anniversaire!!!

**This is my latest photo. It was taken this morning by my colleague Mudirat.













Bonne anniversaire did I hear you say? Thank you. My birthday came early this year. I almost forgot about it until I got an early email from a university classmate yesterday evening just as I was leaving the office. Wakeel, my classmate, had sent me an email from Abuja letting me know that he appreciated my own message on his birthday last week. He in turn wrote about how we August-born folks are meant to be leaders. Great talk I must say. I've always believed that Leos are born leaders and all.

Anyway that's by the way. My first text message was from my lil' bro Lawale and I got it around 11:05 pm. It was already after midnight in Nigeria so he thought I was already in my new year.

Next was a call from Akua at about midnight. And then more SMSs from Lagos. My sisters all sent congratulatory messages and then my Mom called at about 5 a.m to pour some words of heavy prayers on me. It was refreshing getting such heavy words. Then Pamela sent a message.

And then I got a message around 6:30a.m from Sekalia who asked me to turn on the radio and listen to Atlantis FM. Immediately afterwards, the presenter, Rudy Kwakye's voice, boomed out my name in a thick Ghanaian pronunciation that if I had not been alerted, I wouldn't have believed it was me he was referring to. Anyway it was a first for me, getting congratulated on the radio and getting a song dedicated to me. I didn't get the title anyway as it was one old school song which I didn't really dig.

But it's been fun having a few friends call me. Some people who I assumed would have forgotten about me even sent messages and later called me. If I was a party person I would have said we would be hitting the dance floors tonight. But seeing that I'm tired and a little broke, I'll just sit in my house and watch TV tonight. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

But I got myself a list of things to do before I turn 28. Ten things I want to achieve when I look back next year. I'm going to write it here for you to read so you can follow up on it. And make sure you ask me about it next August.

1. Get a Masters degree
2. Get a qualification in Broadcast Journalism
3. Host my own radio show
4. Get a job with CNN as a reporter (would like to be side kicks with Christiane Amanpour or Richard Quest. I just respect them for their professionalism)
5. Write a best selling book
6. Travel around the country by road (more like on bicycle or motorbike for more adventure) and write about it. "The Adventures of Sinbad in the land of the Twis"
7. Become a top male model.
8. Become an authority on making the impossible possible.
9. Buy my own professional camera equipment.
10. Think about getting married.

Now that's a long list and I bet I can do them all before my next birthday if I set my mind to it. Well, just to lighten things up, I saw this taxi today with this legend on it: What is written is written, only not in those same words.

The Lush Green Onion Fields of Accra

Story and Photos by Ololade Adewuyi

On the Motorway link between Accra and Tema at a small village called Agyingona lies many hectares of beautiful green fields dedicated to lovely rows of onion plants. A set of brothers from Bawku in the Northern Region have found it an arable piece of land to cultivate lovely onions.

When Abubakar Mohammed discovered the piece of land a year ago, it was a bushy plot that was always giving the local authorities a hectic time to trim. The men from the Metropolitan office were planting tree seedlings at the site when he approached them about helping to clear the bush while also growing some plants for subsistence.

“I asked if I could use the place for farming and they said yes”, says husband and father of three Abubakar.

Since last year, he has cultivated maize and peppers and is about reaping his onions this year. What began on a small plot has been extended to over one hectare of luscious green onion bulbs that would be ready for the market in late August.

Abubakar has brought in more hands to assist him in his growing venture. His younger brother Mumuni and another friend Muhammed Yakubu have all come from Bawku to help cultivate the many rows of onion bulbs on the farm.

As they sit under a small tree to have a lunch of mashed beans and rice in palm oil under the sweltering heat, Abubakar narrates his interesting family history. He and his brother had never been to school because their father never believed in education. They had all been sent to the farm in Bawku at an early age like many northern kids. He had worked hard at his farm and came visiting his brother in Accra where he fell in love with the city. He would then bring his farm produce all the way from Bawku to the markets in Accra, a process that meant he lost a large quantity of the perishable goods on the long journey.

But now he can easily ferry his goods to the market where he is assured of good profit due to his proximity to Accra. He hopes to harvest over a hundred sacks of onions this year and sell them for between c350,000 and c500,000 depending on the forces of demand and supply.

Onion bulbs grow beneath the soil and take three months to mature. They are of the family Alliaceae and are generally used as spices and as vegetables. China is the largest producer of onions as it had 19,793 tonnes in 2005 (FAO figures).

The plant does suffer from a number of plant diseases with leaf variegation one of the major problems farmers in Accra are experiencing. The leaves of the onion plant become yellowish with longitudinal segments. This disease makes the plant’s bulb not to grow big.

“We need government’s help to give us chemicals that we will use in treating our farm”, Abubakar says.

“We also need more land so that we can expand. If they can give us more land we will be happy”.

The onion farmers of Accra have shown dedication to duty and one can be sure they will prove themselves better if given the necessary resources. They really seem to know their onions.

Mid-week blues

It's the middle of the week and things have been going so so. Attended a conference for entrepreneurs yesterday at the National Theatre where Kweku Sintim-Misa, Chinery-Hesse and Dr. Mensa Otabil spoke on entrepreneurial dedication in an information-based society.

Don't we hear it all the time? My high point of the day was getting the venue wrong and having to go on the back of a free trip off a photographer who saw me carrying my own camera. I had taken a taxi with my last dough to the Conference Centre only to find that I had gotten wrong info. The photographer colleague then helped me across to the ok venue. Thats what I call trade benefits.

My embarrassment was just veiled under a veneer of confidence. Deep inside I was seething. How can one spend his last kish and still go the wrong way? Beats me.

Will be going back there today as I got a call by the organisers to come handle their photo shoot.

Been broke this week, this should bring a little respite...

Peace out for now.

Just Do It!

Photo: The lure of the open road consumes the lonely traveler. Courtesy www.horizonsunlimited.com


Yeah, so I did it. I seem to be hooked on the message of popular consumer brands these days. After my Guinness Greatness write up last week, I woke up on Saturday morning and felt like I could do something exciting with my free day which doesn’t come too often. I decided to take my usual walk around town, only this time a little bit farther.

I jumped into my China-made Tommys (seeing these days China gets all the knocks) and bolted out of the house with no definite destination in mind. On getting to the Tetteh Quarshie Interchange I suddenly felt the urge to run to Tema! Tema is a town almost 30 km from Accra. In my mind I never knew how I could achieve that feat. Something told me just do it and I started jogging as I made my way past Game and then Action Chapel. As I approached Action Chapel on the Motorway, I suddenly felt my throat dry up, it was the first sign of dehydration.

After Kelly Rowland’s collapse on stage in Lagos 2 weeks back as a result of dehydration, I decided it wasn’t wise to go on without making plans for liquid so I stopped at the Action Chapel to see if I could find a shop to buy bottled water. I had observed a few worshipers emerging out of the building obviously from early morning prayers so I thought there might be a few shops open that early. As I walked down the slope to the premises, I met a young man who politely informed me that the shops had not yet opened for business but that I could get water from a school on the other side of the Motorway.

It seemed like a good advice until I got back onto the Motorway only to realize that on the opposite was a huge forest. What to do? I couldn’t go further without water nor did I want to return home without having achieved my aim of getting to Tema. Then I saw a bus slow down not too far from me to drop off a female passenger so I got in it and headed for Tema. I figured if I got to Tema and bought water I could then make my way back to Accra on foot.

On alighting at Tema, I quickly searched for a shop to buy a bottle of water and some biscuit. Luckily, I had taken some money with me. I guzzled the liquid like someone who had been lost in the desert for days until saturation. Afterwards, it was all go as I found my way back to the Motorway and began my return journey to Accra, this time with a bottle of water in hand and a pack of biscuit in my pocket.

It looked daunting at first but something kept telling me that I could do it. I started jogging and after a while I stopped to rest by walking and would later break into jogging again. That process offered me an opportunity to see at close range some of the very interesting sights by the roadside. Things one never takes notice of while in the comfort of a car.

I saw the rolling hills and the undulating plains that make Africa so beautiful to the eyes. I also saw a couple of homeless people sleeping under the shelter of the bridge. They wrapped themselves up in thick polyester sacks to protect themselves from the night’s biting cold. On the hilly part of the bridge were a herd of cattle. They were feeding on grass while their minder stood close by wielding the big stick at the erring ones.

I noticed a church with strange lettering on the other side of the Motorway. The letters looked like Korean. But how would I know, most Oriental languages are written in like manner. I made a mental note to check it out sometime.

I kept on jogging and after about five kilometres I felt my legs no longer able to take it so I stopped to take a rest beside a milestone. It was Kilometre 19 on the road to Accra. I had done more than ten kilometres. At that moment, several scenes of my life flashed across my mind. I thought of the past, the present and what the future holds. I was pretty tired and in such a state, gloomy thoughts could really creep up on one. But I saw the bright side of things. I saw the reports that I’m going to be filing, I saw the books I’m yet to begin, the people I’m yet to meet, the woman of my dreams, the beautiful children we’re going to have; I saw this moment that I’m going to be writing this account and I said to myself, “You can’t give up now, what story will you tell?”

I picked myself up, like all great people have done all through the centuries and dusted myself up and returned to my journey. Slowly and painfully, I trekked the long road from Tema to Accra. Thank God that the sun hid itself behind the clouds for most of that morning. I passed brooks and springs, crossed bridges and was overtaken by many a moving vehicle all speeding away to the city.

Then it occurred to me, life’s journey is a lone road. We might be lucky sometimes to get a companion that would make it with us but as much as possible we do it on our own. The measure of each man is to make life’s journey as bravely as they only can for the shoes will hurt several times and the strength will fail, but we need to always stop and rest to regain energy and plod on because nobody ever received a prize for quitting.

I trudged on until my pace slowed down to a snail’s. And suddenly out of nowhere, I saw a billboard over a hill which led me to think that Accra was just on the other side of the hill. My hopes rose and I quickened my almost dead pace only to get to the top of the hill and realise it was a mirage. I sat down on a concrete slab to rest my aching feet. I had just taken my last drop of water from the bottle and was tempted to hail down cars to ferry me back home. I did hail them but none stopped to carry a weary stranger in the middle of nowhere. So I continued determined to make it on my own.

And just then I saw a sign post which read “End of the Motorway”. It was such a huge relief that broke over me. I screamed “Yeah, I’ve done it” with my parched mouth. Such personal fulfillment that no words can explain filled me up. I felt nothing can take away this experience from me, ever. When I tell people about it I’m told that it was a crazy idea.

“What if something had happened to you? Who would have helped you?”

Well life belongs to only the crazy. You need to be crazy to achieve anything in this world. The lure of the open road is so huge in me now. I can’t wait for Saturday to start another trek. I am all healed up now and this time I’m going to walk to and fro Tema. Consequently, I’m thinking of trekking Ghana. Something in my mind keeps bringing back the Nike pay off line: Just do it, it says. Sure I’m crazy enough to think it can be done.

Yetunde gives birth to baby girl!

My elder sister Yetunde was safely delivered of a baby girl in Jos, Nigeria yesterday. It's her second baby. Her husband David is presently in Burundi working as a medic in a tecnical aid corp team. He's been gone for three or four months now.

The news comes as my colleague in the office also died today.

Life!

While some rejoice some cry.


Started reading Brian Tracy's Many Miles To Go last week. I've read a couple of Tracy's books in the past and I think this is good. I hope I can finish it soon. I never seem to finish all the books that I buy. Is it just me or does it happen to everyboy? I don't know.

Edem Cudjoe Dies!!!

My colleague Edem Cudjoe died suddenly this morning. He had not reported ill so it's kinda very strange to hear such news.

There had been rumours of his passing but we just dismissed it as lies "from the pits of hell" but the news has just been broken by the family and everyone in the office has suddenly grown quiet.

We had thought Edem didn't want to pick his call maybe he didn't want to come to the office or something... I had even sent him a text jokingly. It read

"Hey Edem heard you're dead is it true? Come on send God a shout out 4 me. Better get ur butt in d office now I got pages for you to lay".

See Edem was on attachment with us as a graphic designer and he was always eager to help out with the work. he would always come up to me in a funny swagger because he loved to wear baggy jeans as a hip hop adherent. He would say "Mr Lolade when are you giving me your sports stories to lay?"

I don't only write sports but he was very cool with my sports pages and even when I lazy he'd remind me about it.

"Okay Mr Lolade I'll help you lay your sports pages tomorrow" and I'll go like okay just nodding my head but not liking the intrusion.

I still don't know whether to believe it. I feel he's gonna come back tomorrow and ask for my sports pages. I need to prepare them before he returns. Sure I think he's gonna come back. He must surely come back.

Hey man it's too early to go. I can't believe it. He was so full of life. He lived rap music and with every breath he lived it. He was such a good man.

Now see how you're making all of us cry. Don't do this man. No not now.

Big Brother Africa 2

It has begun!

Didn't catch the opening show but I've been getting a few glimpses of the show and I think it's gonna be exciting as time goes on.

I remember like yesterday when BB Nigeria held last year. It happened to create a turning point for my life.

Just a little fluttering of the wing of a butterfly and you get a massive ocean surge. Hmmmm.

Anyway I'm a sit tight and watch but not too much. Enjoy the fun folks.

Peace out on a lovely Tuesday evening.

My Photo in BBC Focus On Africa Magazine July-Sept 2007 Edition

I finally saw this photo entry that I sent to BBC Focus on Africa Magazine today. It's been more than six months since I sent it to them. It was taken at the VIBE FM Street Carnival celebrations of of Ghana's 50th Anniversary on Oxford Street, Osu.

Don't know who the girls were but I think I might have made them famous. BBC should pay me, don't you think? I'm gonna go out and buy me a copy tomorrow.

Check out the original page here

What a day!

What can one say? This Monday is not like any I've experienced in a long time. All my bones are aching and I was just so tired in the office and felt like sleeping there on the table. But you've gotta respect institutions.

The office is not a sleeping place. Anyway I wasn't the only one as many other folks experienced fatigue too. I wonder what the cause is.

Hope this week doesn't go like Monday as I can't afford to laze around.

Donnie McClurkin at Joseph Project Concert

American gospel singer Donnie McClurkin headlined the Joseph Project Concert held in Accra on the night of August 4 at the Independence Square in Accra. It was one beautiful event where the spirit of God moved. It was the final lap of the Joseph Project/Emancipation Day/PANAFEST 2007 celebrations.

DOnnie was preceded by Princess Ifeoma, Alabaster Box, Sherwin Gardner and Dilys Sellah. Sherwin Gardner's act was one very energetic performance that sent the whole crowd up into Caribbean praise. I saw former minister Jake Obetsebi-Lamptey and his daughter (don't know her name) grooving to his rock/ragga gospel music.

Dilys Sellah also wowed the crowd with her vocals. Man that lady has got a-s-s-e-t-s.

But it was Donnie that the crowd waited to see and he didn't disappoint them. They suged forward to the stage when he asked why a huge gap had been created between him and the audience. One could see tears of joys falling down some faces as people spoke in tongues. An American photographer beside me also burst out in tongues and I was like hmmm 'let the spirit come down on us all'.

Left the event before it finished as I had to get my head deserved rest after one full week of traveling up and down Ghana, first it was Prampram, then Assin Manso and then Cape Coast(Elmina).

Julius Agwu, Basketmouth, I Go Dye & Kojo at Y'ello Comedy Accra

New entrant MTN brought comedy kings Julius Agwu, Basketmouth, I Go Dye and Kojo (UK) to Accra for a beautiful night of laffs last Friday at the National Theatre in Accra. It was one hilarious evening of back breaking laughter as only the dead did not laugh.

After the show I got a couple of photos with the guys and Saturday morning was with them at Erata Hotel where I got interviews with the three Nigerians as my colleague had already done one with Kojo earlier in the week.

Funny how comedy has become a huge money spinning activity for these guys and the new found fame gets all the girls crooning over them. Countless number of girls came back stage to ask them out to a party and I was like hmmmmm...I go like o

MEETING A HERO

Last week, I wrote about my thoughts on being an African and how I would love for my children to learn about their Africaness when I do have them. As you see, I do not yet have children of my own but I am already preparing for the future. I’ve selected some probable names. That would do for now.

Well, talking about my African heroes, I met one of them last week in the most interesting of circumstances. They say big things come in small packages and so truly is this hero of mine.

Standing more than five feet seven inches tall or there about with hair the colour of grey, he is one man that has seen it all and in the course of a brilliant career as a public servant has wined and dined with the high and mighty all over the world.

Notwithstanding his small size, he left a tremendous physical impact on me when I shook his hands. I was forced to grimace at the firmness of his grip when he held me. I had to commend him on him on that.

Like I wrote last week, dreams do come true. And no one has it happened to more than me. Here I was standing in a room packed full of seasoned diplomats, reputable public servants and private business owners awaiting the arrival of such an accomplished fellow. It never occurred to me that I would meet such a person this early in my life. But meet him I did and we even exchanged a few words.

I tried to get him to grant me an interview but he excused himself referring to a busy schedule. I had told him of how his life has inspired and keeps inspiring young people like me to wanting to live above mediocrity. He, like a man who hears such remarks all the time, nodded in a practical manner. I was awed by his mien. He looked so much at home in the presence of an ordinary citizen as he would be in the presence of the American President or the Saudi King.

I was drawn to him. I put forth the question. “Sir, can I get to interview you so you can tell young people about how it was you made it this far?’’, I asked.

He looked me in the eyes, genuinely, and said, ‘’well you know my schedule makes me to travel all the time so I cannot really stay in one place’’.

I was shattered. Disappointed. In my mind I had already started to think of my great fortune. Not only would it have been a big hit getting an interview with the man but just the thought of hearing him tell story would have made an everlasting impression on so many young people who aspire to his kind of greatness.

My disappointment was only for a moment though as the sincerity in his voice soothed every pain, I dipped my free hand into my pocket and brought out my card. I gave it to him and he collected it. I asked if he would be kind enough to give me a call some day soon when he would be opportuned to grant me an audience. He said he would. I thanked him and left to return to my place allowing him to respond to other guest.

One of the organizers of the event who had already told me he hardly grant any press audience walks up to me and commends me on my bravery. I told him that there is no harm in trying and that being a journo has taught me to never imagine impossibilities. He pats me on the back. The party comes to an end.

I see my hero walk away with his wife beside him. I walk out alone into the cold. I flip open my mobile phone and dial home.

‘’Did you know whose hand I just shook? You guess’’, I tell my friend just then realizing the enormity of what had just happened to me. I walk into the car, taller than my six feet one inch frame.

As the car made its way home, all I could think of was, how cool would it be if Mr. Kofi Annan has one of his aides call me for an in-depth interview. I know that dreams do come true. I’m waiting.

Accra's Massive Independence Street Parties

The night of Independence saw a lot of partying in Accra. People had trooped out to enjoy what is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

A huge float organised by Accra's Vibe FM had a lot of hip life music stars singing to the crowd. The crowd whose figures were put at close to 10,000 packed full the Oxford Street in Osu. They turned out in the beautiful red, gold and green colours of Ghana.

I went from taking pictures to singing and simply dancing the night away. Moving from one float to the other, I was at the Vibe FM float, and then proceeded to another float that was organised by Accra's Rastafarian community. The Rasta float blared reggae tunes on its massive loud speakers. I did it with dem inna the manner of da Rastafarians.

Moving further down was a Soukous float. And here I danced to Makossa (as we usually, rather erroneously call it).

How I wished that it could continue like this every day.

In the top photo is hip life star KK Fosu wowing the crowd while I hold the Rastafarian flag alongside another reveler in the other picture.