To WeyGeyHey With Love

“Any woman who understands the problems of running a home will be nearer to understanding the problems of running a country.”
– Margaret Thatcher

Muhammad Yunus, the Bangladeshi social entrepreneur, economist and banker, won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006 for founding the Grameen Bank and innovating the concept of microfinance and microcredit. By giving loans to the poor, he managed to help thousands break out of poverty. Soon after he started the bank in 1976 in Bangladesh, he made some important observations.
The first was that women who received loans used the money not only to generate income but to make the lives of their families healthier and better. As an example, some women bought chickens thus getting meat and eggs to feed the family. They generated income by selling the eggs and the chickens they raised. The men on the other hand, tended to use the loans for things that benefited only them – alcohol, gambling and personal luxuries.
He also noticed that women were more apt to repay their loans than the men. While the repayment rate for women was about 97%, the men repaid about 77% of the time.
Then was the observation that the woman in Bangladesh were an untapped pool of hard-working entrepreneurs who could turn the smallest opportunity into significant gains. The small loans seemed to really empower the women to reach for more.
These observations soon caused him to direct the bulk of his efforts towards women.

170 years before Muhammad Yunus won his Nobel Peace Prize, a woman named Harriet Wrigley, the wife of a Methodist missionary, must have known this too. That if you give women the smallest opportunity, they will build something great out of it. In a coastal town in the then Gold Coast (now Ghana), some 10,000 km from Bangladesh and 8000 km from her home in England, she started a school for young girls who most probably had no chance at ever receiving an education. She taught these girls housekeeping, religious education, writing and reading.
Mrs Wrigley would succumb to malaria a year later but in 1837, another missionary’s wife, Elizabeth Waldron, would take the girls under her care. Under her guidance, the brilliance of these girls would attract the attention of the Methodist Church. Using a core group of these girls being tutored in housekeeping, reading and writing, a secondary school was founded – Wesley Girls High School.
From these humble beginnings in 1836 has grown a secondary school for girls that occupies one of the premier spots in pre-university education in Ghana. A school that epitomizes what secondary education should be. A school that year after year occupies the top spot in most rankings. A school that over the years has produced women who have contributed immensely to Ghana’s slow but steady progress.
Wesley Girls High School! WeyGeyHey! Debu for us from Mfantsipim.

What is it about the female sex that allows them to make so much out of so little? What drives this wish to succeed and magnify? What is it about them that evokes such efforts to make the lives of those around them better even as they rise – their families, their friends and the community?
Maybe the answer lies in the time when humans were hunter-gatherers. The men hunted and the women stayed home and raised a family. If the men did not return , the women still had to raise those children. They developed a survival instinct that is unmatched. Or is it that extra X chromosome? Does it give them extra power? Or the ordeal of carrying a child for 9 months? Or is it the constant flux of progesterone ad estrogen waxing and waning? Maybe when God took that rib out of Adam, he took out the best rib!
Whatever the reason, the products of Wesley Girls, like the poor women of Bangladesh epitomize this amazing trait to the highest degree.
Mfantsipim and Wesley Girls have histories that started intertwining back in the 1880s. Not only have both schools supported each other but there exists a healthy rivalry between them too.

Being a product of Mfantsipim School, it is coded into my DNA to always take digs at anything and anyone Wesley Girls’. However, beneath all that wisecracking is a deep respect and admiration for the school and it’s products. I should know – I am married to one of them. My sister, cousin and several friends are products too.
They are smart and classy. They do not suffer fools at all. They are hard-wired with the ability to lead and are visionaries.To the world, they proffer an aloof and polished veneer which hides wonderful and caring hearts of gold. Their desire for independence and autonomy runs deep and this can often set them on a path of conflict, in a society as misogynistic as ours is.

So as they celebrate 180 years of educating girls, let’s all celebrate with them. Let’s celebrate the strength that allows a woman, in the words of the author Erick S. Gray, “…to make a baby out of a sperm, a home out of a house, a meal out of groceries, a heart out of a smile…”. Let’s celebrate perseverance, strength, family, love, wisdom, opportunity and the future.
Let’s celebrate the Woman.
Today let’s all Live Pure, Speak True, Right Wrong and Follow the King!

Brünnhilde hasn’t sang yet

The last part of Richard Wagner’s opera “Der Ring des Nibelungen” (Ring of the Nibelung) is titled “Götterdämmerung” (Twilight of the Gods). In it, the Valkyrie, Brünnhilde, a rather voluptuous lady, sings her aria to end the opera, even as she rides into flames.
Hence the saying, “It ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings”.
The German word “Götterdämmerung” is a translation of “Ragnarök” (old Norse), which in Scandinavian mythology refers to the destruction of the Gods in a battle with evil, resulting in apocalypse!

For any Falcon’s fan, it feels like Apocalypse now!
Let’s rewind to February 8, 2008. Superbowl XLII. The undefeated New England Patriots were playing the 12-pont underdog New York Giants. It was the 4th quarter and the Patriots were up by 4 with 75 seconds to go. The Giants had the ball on their 40-yard line for a third-and-five. Eli Manning, the Giants quarterback, avoided a sack and floated the ball to Tyree who made an improbable catch against his helmet for the first down. The Giants went on to win. It was an improbable upset!
Just before the ball was snapped by the Giants on the third-and-five, the Patriots players (who already thought they had the game won) were talking smack to the Giants players on the field. They were so sure of their win, they even invited the Giants to their after-game party! They had forgotten one important lesson in sports:
It ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings!

The Falcons were up 21-3 at the half. Somehow, they relaxed. They lost their fire. Sure the Patriots played better in the second half but did the Falcons have to play worse? Did they forget the cardinal law in sports? Did they forget “It ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings”?
That is a lesson Brady hardly ever forgets. Sure, his team forgot that in 2008 but in his 16 year career with the Patriots, this has not happened often. It is an unfortunate human tendency to get complacent and let one’s guard down when victory is nigh. Brady has this uncanny ability to recognize this weakness in his opponents and exploit it quite well. He did tonight and has done it all through his career.
Also, he was picked in the 6th round in the 2000 draft. He has the mentality of an underdog. Underdogs pick their chances and never ever give up because they know it’s never over till the fat lady sings.

Events this past year or so seem to drum this lesson home – Cleveland pulling the upset over Golden State, Brexit, the Cubs win, Trump and now this. In my home country Ghana, 72-year-old Nana Akufo-Addo’s landslide win in this past December elections fits in this category too.
For the winners as well as the losers, the lesson is clear:
It ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings!

However it is like all of humanity is being taught this one important lesson – DO NOT GIVE UP! Do not give up on peace, love and empathy. Do not give up on this earth, on one another, on making things better for all. Do not give up on fighting bigotry, racism, poverty, disease, inequality and homelessness. It is like humanity is being told to fight and keep fighting, even if things look so dark and bleak.
Then, the fat lady hasn’t sang yet and as long as that hasn’t happened, we as humanity have one more play to win it all.
DO NOT GIVE UP!

Who’s Your Daddy?

“When the Grim Reaper comes to call, words fail – they’re just too small.” – Dixie Lyle, To Die Fur

Harriet Tubman may be one of the most admired figures in all of American history. Her bravery is the stuff of legends. Besides my personal admiration for what she did, I’m also saddened that her ancestry goes back to the Akan people of Ghana. I am an Akan.
She will forever be remembered for her use of the underground railroad to free over 300 slaves after she escaped slavery herself. In about 19 trips, she never lost a single passenger.
I often think of Ms Tubman when life rears it’s ugly head.
I also find myself comparing what she did to what I do. To what doctors and nurses who take care of critically-ill patients in either the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) or the operating room (OR) do.
Please do not get me wrong. I am in no way setting the two jobs on the same footing. Not at all. I dare not. I wouldn’t survive for a minute in the conditions she thrived in.
What I aim to do is compare only an aspect of what she did to what we as critical care providers do.
Ms Tubman used her wiles, intuition, courage and the underground railroad to snatch men, women and children from the clutches of slavery.
Doctors and nurses who work in the critical care setting, either in the operating room or the ICU, use their acquired skills, intuition, advanced monitors and drugs to snatch men, women and children from the clutches of the Grim Reaper.
Whereas Ms Tubman never lost a passenger, we are not so lucky. Sure, modern medicine allows the most amazing stories of healing. A series of these successes makes one forget that, like Ms Tubman, we are really trying save people from a really powerful enemy.
Her enemy were the slave owners and the States . Ours is the Grim Reaper.
The fact that we succeed is often not so much due to our abilities but also to luck or chance or fate or providence, whatever you want to call it. Then every so often, just when you think you have reached a safe spot with your ward, the Grim Reaper shows up unexpectedly and snatches him or her back. That is when one realizes who really is the more powerful. That our knowledge, monitors, intuition and drugs are really feeble attempts to hold off the might of Mr Reaper.
So as the futility of the moment hits and chest compressions are halted, a flat line on a monitor screen is all we are then left with. In the silence that ensues, one can often hear his faint but powerful voice as he escapes with the soul of a patient who was alive only a few minutes ago. One can usually hear his chuckle as he asks, “Who’s is your daddy?”
No answer is needed, then those moments remind us all of the frailty of life and our powerlessness. One can then only sigh, get back the composure and march off to the next battle, hoping this time to get the upper hand. Then as old as life itself is this dance with the Grim Reaper. A truly macabre yet rewarding dance indeed. We get better at it each day and I’m sure Ms Tubman would be proud.

Vox in Mulieribus

Democracy is cumbersome, slow and inefficient, but in due time, the voice of the people will be heard and their latent wisdom will prevail.
– Author unknown but often attributed to Thomas Jefferson.

The reactions to the Women’s Marches in several cities in the US and many other countries this past Saturday differ. One’s view really depends on which side of the political divide one stands. Some perspective is sorely needed.
The ability to demonstrate is a right that most democratic nations enjoy and must always be upheld. It is an integral and very important part of the democratic process. In the US, demonstrations are as old as the Union itself. To illustrate my point, I’ll dwell on examples from 2002 to the present day.
Starting in 2002, there were demonstrations in the US and across lots of other countries against the plans of President Bush to invade Iraq. This biggest one was on February 15, 2003. Over a million people demonstrated worldwide. The Republican administration never listened and invaded Iraq. The whole world is still reeling from the consequences of that war.

A month or so after President Obama took office, the Tea Party demonstrations started. The group was protesting run-away government spending as exemplified by the bail-out programs (TARP and the Stimulus Package). Later, other protests were organized against Obamacare. The Democrats never took the Tea Party serious until it was too late. The party played a consequential role in the trouncing of Democrats in elections in 2010, 2014 and 2016.
So if shortly after President Trump’s inauguration, over 3 million women are out protesting to raise awareness about women’s rights, isn’t that par for the course? We’ve seen from the two preceding administrations that the people know they have a voice and they want that voice to be heard.

Maybe instead of the name-calling and shaming, these protesters need to be listened to. Maybe they need to be engaged. Maybe instead of writing them off as liberals and feminists, one needs to work with them to find a common goal. The fact that they may have voted for the losing candidate does not matter. Remember the Tea Party!
History tells us that disregarding such protesters can have dire consequences. Just as the Tea Party did, they could organize themselves into a grassroots movement that could influence elections for years.

Dear Martin

Dear Martin,

Happy Birthday!

You would have been 88 today had it not been for that day in Memphis….well, today is special so I won’t dwell on that.
Are you having a party up there? Did Coretta throw you one? Whatever you are doing today, have fun!

I hate to bother you with this but things are not going so well down here. The nation is divided more than ever. There is so much divisiveness and rancor. We cannot see eye-to-eye on a lot of issues. People are still judged by the color of their skin with disastrous consequences. The poor keep getting poorer and injustices are rampant.
You know that Valley of Despair you asked us not to wallow in? Well, some of are living there now!.
If I may borrow your words and change them to reflect how things are:
In spite of our faith, we are unable to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. In spite of this faith, we are not be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. Even with this faith, we cannot work together, pray together, struggle together, go to jail together, stand up for freedom together….we are broken!
So on this day, do pray for this great nation. This nation that you loved so much. Pray for us because we need it!
Enjoy the rest of your wonderful day!

Sincerely,

Nanadadzie

Do it Well

“Gentlemen, we will chase perfection, and we will chase it relentlessly, knowing all the while we can never attain it. But along the way, we shall catch excellence.”
― Vince Lombardi Jr.

My friend, the Rev Albert Ocran, has a radio show on Joy 99.7 FM in Accra on Sundays called “Springboard”. He usually dwells on motivational and educational themes. Sometime last year, he did a series titled “10 Critical Success Factors”. Over a period of like 8 weeks, he talked to a string of thought leaders and entrepreneurs about what they saw as their 10 critical success factors.
One Sunday whilst listening, I thought of my own journey to figure out this puzzle called life. It started actively back in 1995, during a period of broken dreams. In the process I realized that unlike getting a formal education, life lessons are not taught formally as we grow from childhood into young adulthood. They are imparted loosely by parents and other family members. Sometimes by teachers, even friends or at church. In a period marked by working hard to attain a professional degree or learn a trade, life lessons take the back bench. That is until life rears it’s ugly head.
So I wondered if I could tease out 10 lessons from all that I had leant since I started on my journey of figuring things out. Over the next fews days, memories came rushing back and in that torrent, I was able to tease out 10 lessons – my critical factors.
Recent events have reminded me of one of these lessons. It is the one lesson that guides me most in my professional life. I am not always successful at letting it guide but I try.
It is a lesson gleaned from a story my mum told me as a boy. The story stuck with me and as I got older, it always seem to prove itself.
The lesson is: DO IT WELL!
It is the notion that whatever you do in life, do it well. Do it like you were doing it for yourself. Aim for excellence. Do that procedure well. Nurse that patient well. Defend that case well. Run that business well. Sell those goods well. Treat your wife or husband well. Raise your kids well. Preach that sermon well. Teach those kids well.
Now let me see if I can tell the story mum told me well:
In a city far away lived a very wealthy man. He loved new mansions. Every so often he had his favorite builder build him a mansion. He would live in there a few months or maybe a year and then get the builder to build him another. He had mansions dotting the city.
Then a major recession hit the city. For all that time, the builder never heard from his wealthy client. Things were hard for the builder but he managed. Then the economy recovered and business started to pick up again. The builder was busy again. After almost 2 years, the wealthy man contacted the builder. He wanted another mansion. This time, the wealthy man wanted the builder to use the most expensive marble, wood and stones. It was to be a masterpiece. The builder however was bitter. He felt the wealthy man should have reached out during the recession. He also felt the wealthy man never paid him enough for all the good work he did. He agreed to build the mansion but instead of using the best materials, he fudged. He used the cheapest marble and stones. The foundation wasn’t well-laid and the walls were weak. The roof shook when the wind blew and the windows clattered. It was his worst work.
The day arrived when the builder invited the wealthy man to take ownership of the mansion. The wealthy man met him in front of the mansion all smiles. The builder handed him the keys.
Then the wealthy man said:
“All these years, you have built me one great mansion after the next. I have been unwell these last few years and had to travel for treatment. I couldn’t help you during the recession. Now I am back and want to say thank you. This mansion is my gift to you for always doing things so well. You are the epitome of excellence”
With that he handed the shocked builder the keys to the mansion. Even as the builder took the keys, all he could think of was, “I should have built this well!”.
He should have.
Do it well!

The Wisdom of a Child

“I understand why they cut off her head”

The year was 2013. That summer, we took a trip to France. My daughter was excited about visiting to the Louvre and Notre Dame. She also wanted to see Monet’s lilies. My son was just hyped about seeing new places.
Before the trip, I gave them a short synopsis of significant French history, dwelling on the 18th century – the Revolution, Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI and the beheadings. I explained how the people went hungry while the nobility feasted and built palaces.
My daughter asked if Marie Antoinette really said, “Let them eat cake”.
I said it was probably not her words but that for most of the people, she was a symbol of why they were suffering.
We all fell in love with Paris. Each of us had a reason for the love affair. The Louvre, Notre Dame, the architecture, the shopping, the food, the art, the food, the romance…..did I mention the food?
And then was the visit to Le Château de Versailles.
Words cannot describe the opulence, the decadence, the raw smell of wealth and privilege.
My wife and daughter were just enthralled by the Queens’s Private Apartment. I just wondered how much it cost to build all that! My son wanted to play hide-and-seek!
Then we walked into the Hall of Mirrors. As we walked down this unbelievable space the royal family used for banquets, my daughter turned to me and said in her typically calm tone:
“I understand why they cut off her head”.
For minute I was taken aback. Then I smiled and said to her:
“You kinda get it, don’t you?”
She nodded.
This was a 10-year-old girl. Even at that age, she was exhibiting a sense of social justice.
It is astonishing then that some adults don’t have that or lose theirs.
I look back at the Ghanaian elections. I look at how convincingly Nana Addo shellacked John Mahama with over a million vote differential.
The reasons are pretty obvious. While the people struggled with rolling blackouts, high fuel prices, massive youth unemployment and rampant corruption, the ruling Unintelligent rolled around in their black V8s, blinded by hubris and ill-gotten wealth. The people may have been hungry but they were neither blind nor deaf. They certainly were not stupid and like the elephant (the symbol of the Nana Addo’s party – the NPP), they had a long memory.
Sure Mahama may have started massive infrastructure projects but did they really benefit the people or did they benefit his cronies who got those fat contracts?
So like my daughter, I sit back and say:
“I understand why they cut off the head of that corrupt government. I understand why Nana Addo won so convincingly. I understand why the people want change.”
Now being the season that it is, let us eat cake!

The Burden

He heard of this hill where one could leave their burdens. He made his way there to unload his burden. He labored up slowly, weighed down by uncertainty.
Alas, he got to the summit. In the distance, he saw others unloading their burdens before a shining light. He hurried up towards the light that got brighter. As he got closer, he realized that the light came from a tree and that the people were unloading their burdens at the the base of this mighty tree. Then it struck him – compared to the burdens most of those there had, his burden was a joke. His burden was almost minuscule. A deep shame came over him. He wanted to ran.
Then he heard a voice ask, “Can you help me get this down?”
He turned. The man facing him had the biggest burden he had ever seen. He helped him get it off his back and to the base of the tree. For the next hour, he helped several men and women get their burdens off. He felt exhausted but light.
Then he thought of his burden. He reached back. It was gone! He looked around him. He couldn’t see it anywhere but then it would be dwarfed by the others.
Then it hit him – in being immersed at helping others unload their burdens, he had lost his. He had unloaded his burden by helping others unload theirs.
He looked up at he tree. He could swear the Light smiled at him. He smiled back. As he made his way down the hill, he vowed to come up often to help others unload their burdens. He felt so whole when the Light smiled at him…..he sure did.

The Parable of the Voyage

“Can we become a little more aggressive as a people?…..Can we demand a little bit more?”
– Ace Kojo Anan Ankomah

Once upon a time, the people of a certain nation were sailing to a new World called Prosperity-for-All. Their old lands had become uninhabitable.
To make sure they reached their destination, the people picked a group of men and women to sail and navigate the boat to it’s destination. The men and women in this group were called the Leaders.
Unfortunately, the boat they were traveling on was old and taking on water through several holes in the hull. The people realized that the clothes they had on were impervious to water and so they tore off pieces to plug the holes. They did that even though it was cold.
However, as soon as they did that, the Leaders pulled out these pieces of cloth being used as plugs to keep for themselves. They figured that they could patch the pieces together into shirts or trousers for themselves and their families. They figured that they were smarter.
So the boat kept taking on more water. As fast as the people tried to plug the holes, even faster did the Leaders pull them out. In the dead of the night when the people were sleeping, the Leaders made more holes in the boat’s hull. This caused the people to tear off more clothes to plug the holes, which the Leaders in turn pulled out for themselves.
So the people resorted to not only tearing up their clothes to plug these holes, but also use their cups, bowls and pans to scoop out the water that kept rising. They were tired, hungry and cold.
The leaders, on the other hand, seemed totally oblivious to the impending doom. They were warm, well-fed and happy.
One day, a little boy on the boat asked his dad, “Dad, why are the Leaders clothed while we are almost naked? Why do they look fat while we all are so skinny?”
His dad was silent. The other men who heard the question went silent too. A look crept into their eyes. Slowly a realization dawned on them. They looked at each other. Their nods were imperceptible.
That night, a group of men stayed up. They watched. They watched as one of the Leaders’ went through the boat pulling out the plugs. They watched how he poked new holes in the boat. In the glow of the moonlight, they saw his smirk and heard his laughter. From where they hid hungry, naked and cold, they watched feeling raped, violated and misled.
So you are probably going to ask me “What did they people do?”
If you are Ghanaian reading this, then those people on the boat did what you are doing now – NOTHING!
Yes, NOTHING!
The people went about their lives getting raped, shafted, violated and did nothing.
Even when the boat finally sank, the people were still using the clothes they barely had to plug holes while the Leaders had jumped off into a life boat they had somehow hidden from the people.
May those who have ears hear!

The Other Side

The first book!

From a place where the everyday is captured in the beauty of rhymes and cascading phrases, I explore the issues of love, life, identity and death with poetry. Get it at Amazon in paperback or in the Kindle version.