For every decade of my life, there has been at least one unforgettable birthday. KIM EVA YAA DICKSON
04 08 12 18 25 30 44 My Beginnings – Clapham, LONDON Adventurous Teens – Cape Coast, GHANA Insightful Twenties - Kumasi, GHANA Steady Thirties – Johannesburg, SOUTHAFRICA Fortified Forties – GLOBAL VOYAGER Navigating The Fifties – Freetown, SIERRA LEONE and Apia, SAMOA Dreams For The Future Contents 3 The Birthday Journal
Mummy brought out a beautifully iced cake. Anthony and I, dressed in white communion frocks that Mummy made, waited with our friends and their parents. There’s a story about this cake. Mummy had baked it for our First Holy Communion, but Dad, thinking it was a random cake, cut a huge slice when he got home fromwork. I cried! Mummy measured the cut, baked a matching piece, and patched it up. Our First Holy Communion turned into a birthday bash! My early birthdays were a blast for me - biscuits, handmade clothes, and lots of friends like Harold, Michael Bruce, Amma Poku, Naana, Collins, and more. I was born in London on 6th February 1964, at the South London Hospital for Women in Clapham, London, right opposite the Clapham South tube station. My parents, Albert Kofi Dickson and Patricia Ama Sika Dickson, of blessed memory, were immigrant students. Initially, my Beginnings My Clapham, LONDON 4 The Birthday Journal
mother had gone to the United Kingdom (UK) as a university student, and my dad joined her later. It seemed to me that my father was always learning. Later, I found out he was a law student who made ends meet by practising as a psychiatric nurse. Ours was a happy home; I remember Dad playing with us and performing magic tricks. He would also take me when he went to place his bets at the betting shop because he said I brought him luck. I still remember our little council flat in Clapham, London – 16 Elmhurst Mansions, Edgeley Road, a two-bedroom flat that housed all three children, my parents, and the numerous aunties who would visit, on and off. Especially Aunty Betty, who was studying nursing at the time, and Aunty Agnes, who would come fromGhana bringing many things, including what we called the “stinking fish.” My parents were always entertaining, with my mom being a very warm person and my dad being the joker in the family. School started when I was five years old at Haselrigge School, Clapham, which I didn’t like much. Then, Mummy got me into St. Mary’s Roman Catholic School, where I had a blast. My big brother Anthony picked me up from school, and later my younger sister and he warmed our dinner as Mummy worked. Snap! Snap! Imaginary photos with my brother and sister. “C-h-e-e-s-e!” I yelled. My sister struck a pose, a big grin on her face, and my brother froze, looking silly with a smile and a hand in the air. We burst into laughter. “Wait!” I shouted. “I need a better shot.” I ran across the street, pretending to take a picture, and then... BAM! I got hit, and the driver didn’t stop. “She’s been hit!” my aunt, the student nurse, yelled from the window. My parents rushed down the stairs, and I was taken off to the hospital with a broken femur. I was only seven, but I had a great time, as the nurses loved me. Dad joked that without that accident, I could have been a great athlete. Maybe he was right because all my children later became athletes. My mother later welcomed twins into our family, bringing our total to five children – Anthony, Kim, Lulu, and the new additions, Herbert and James. Caring for all five of us was indeed a significant challenge for my mother. With my father constantly occupied with work and studies, my mother ultimately decided to relocate the family to Ghana. 5 The Birthday Journal
Touchdown in Accra! “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Accra. The local time is 8.00 p.m., and the weather is 29 degrees.” We had just landed in Accra, and passengers were applauding the pilot for the smooth landing. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when we stepped off that plane, it was unlike anything I had ever seen. Suddenly, all these people were welcoming us, helping with our luggage, and striking up conversations – people I barely knew. It took coming to Ghana for me to discover my blood relatives. It turned out many of those we called uncles and aunties back in London were actually family friends. Ghana was a blast! We stayed in Accra for a couple of weeks before moving to Kumasi, where the second phase of my life began. Growing up in Kumasi was a fascinating time in my life. At first, our relatives and friends teased my brother and me because of our strong British accents. This motivated us to learn the Ghanaian accent and the Twi language. We held little Twi competitions to see who could speak better without using English, and we learned countless Twi proverbs. By the end of it, we not only lost our British accents but also seemed to speak better Twi than our cousins who were already living in Ghana. Our first school in Kumasi was City of Kumasi School, simply because there was no space at the University Primary School. However, we did get admission the following term, and it was fantastic. That’s where I met my friend Victoria Ahafia, whose dad was a physics lecturer at the university. We both chose Holy Child School for our secondary education, which led us to become close friends, thinking great minds think alike. In Kumasi, we initially lived in Ayigya before moving toMbrom, African Bungalows, where my aunt, Mrs. Lucy Effah, lived just down the street. My mom and my aunt were incredibly close and often took long walks together. My aunt, Mama, had a significant influence on my upbringing. I have many stories frommy youth with her, like how she made us clean the inside house walls so she wouldn’t have to repaint them and how if we said we were bored, she’d tell us to remove cobwebs from the ceilings! During that phase of my life, my cousin Lucy and I were close, and we had our Holy Confirmation together. I also got to knowmy older brother Jose Ken Bandoh, aka Gubis. He soon got admission to Harvard University and would promise to take us to the USA whenever he needed something from us! In 1974, just before I departed for secondary school, my sister Adjoa came into this world. She was named SusanMary after two kind-hearted old ladies in London who had supported my mother in taking care of us kids, particularly my sister Lulu. It was a joy to play a role in looking after Adjoa during her early days, but soon after, I had to bid farewell and embark on my journey to secondary school. 6 The Birthday Journal
“Happy birthday to you!” “Happy birthday to you!” My friends and dormmates chorused, passing around many cups filled with thick Milo chocolate drinks and biscuits. It was my birthday “tea party!” Later, I shared small handkerchiefs that my mom had her garment factory workers make from leftover shirt materials. As a teenager, I was ahead of my time; I gave out favours for my birthday. It was wonderful. I could even say that my birthday was the event to look forward to when I was at Holy Child School. AdventurousTeens Cape Coast, GHANA 8 The Birthday Journal
Holy Child School, Cape Coast It was my momwho selected Holy Child School for me, as she was an alumna herself. When my cousins learned of my school choice, they were a bit surprised. “Why didn’t you opt for Achimota?” they inquired, as they were all students there and they knew I was clever enough to make the grade. While switching schools might have been possible, it was too late. At the age of eleven, I began my education in the ‘S’ stream in Form 1 at Holy Child School. Stepping into the classroom on that first Monday morning, I was shy and in awe. Our school uniformwas exquisite, and all the girls had neatly braided hair. Indeed, I thrived at Holy Child School, and it remains one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. My close friend Victoria Ahafia fromUniversity Primary was also there with her elder sister Priscilla. Later on, I crossed paths with Catherine Addai during a holiday in Kumasi when she called out my name from a veranda across the street frommy aunt’s house. Our friendship blossomed quickly. I also forged bonds with my dormmates Genevieve Stephens, Rina Placca, and other ‘S’ girls Odile Tevie, Caroline Ofori, Huda Chahal, Betty Beryl Ofosu Amaah, and many others. Indeed, I thrived at Holy Child School, and it remains one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. “ 9 The Birthday Journal
When my sister Lulu joined me at Holy Child School, she was three years behind me. It was during my time at Holy Child School that I truly got to knowmy elder sister, Janis, who had already started her life in London. We shared a special connection through the letters we exchanged. I delighted in writing to her, narrating the tales of my experiences at the remarkable Holy Child School, which made me appreciate the importance of family even more. As students, we were quite mischievous, and I have vivid memories of us making fun of our teachers – chewing paper much to the consternation of one of our teachers, Brother Monk, who would exclaim “Africans always chewing slut!” In my ‘O’ levels, I performed exceptionally well. Although I can’t recall receiving an offer letter after that, Mummy was determined to get me back into Holy Child School. Throughout my school days, my mom had a profound influence on me. I studied not just for myself but to excel and make her proud. She was the driving force behind my academic endeavours. Sixth Formwas amazing, and I became the Assistant School Prefect and Our Lady’s House Prefect. Little wonder then, that our house always came out on top in inspections. I was strict, always ensuring that the dormitory was spick and span. I would literally look under every bed and inside every wardrobe. Then again, I was very firm, always keeping an eye open to catch latecomers. I was so strict that my little cousin got badly “homoed” when she gained admission to Holy Child School years later, and people found out she was related to me. “KimDickson, you are very good at literature; I hope you will read it in the sixth form,” my Literature teacher told me. That’s how I found myself studying English Literature, Maths, and Economics. However, one day, after returning frommy Maths class, I was surprised to find my mother in the Administration Block. I was puzzled. What had brought her here unannounced? She wasted no time and said, “Kim, I have changed your subjects. You always said you were going to be a doctor, so why have you chosen Literature, Economics, andMaths?” I couldn’t recall ever telling my mom about wanting to be a doctor, but I didn’t protest. I simply switched to the science class, which turned out to be enjoyable because my friends Victoria and Cate were also science students 10 The Birthday Journal
Holy Child, those were the days, weren’t they? I remember it like it was yesterday, and one thing is for sure: you helped me settle in, and we definitely bonded. Now, let’s rewind the clock to those epic Tech parties in the ‘80s. Adjoa was just a little one, but she’s got some hilarious memories from those shindigs. Being “Kim’s little sister” was like holding an exclusive VIP pass to the coolest events! Life’s challenges don’t stand a chance against us. Your wisdom, empathy, and that enormous heart of yours light the way for all of us. We are blessed to have you as our sister, sis. When it comes to cleanliness, we all know you’re the family’s “clean enthusiast” with that Type A personality of yours. You always had a brilliant mind, even as a kid, and your connection with our parents was truly something special. Our Hopsan Sister Kim! HOPSA But what makes us proudest is the incredible impact you’ve had through your work withWHO and UNICEF. We’ve lost count of howmany times we’ve Googled your name just to see how you’re changing the world. You’re not just a role model; you’re like our rockstar! Whether it’s providing top-notch education for your kids or spreading your boundless generosity, you’re the go-to person when we need something done right and done on time. We love you like crazy and wish you the happiest and fun-filled birthday ever! Lulu and Adjoa (Hopsan Sisters and Siblings) 11 The Birthday Journal
Insightful Twenties Kumasi, GHANA School of Medical Sciences University of Science and Technology, Kumasi 12 The Birthday Journal
I was in the midst of planning my birthday party with great excitement. I was brainstorming about the food, drinks, decorations, and the playlist. Everything seemed perfect until Cate suddenly appeared, announcing that she couldn’t attend. She explained she had an urgent commitment in Obuasi. I was taken aback and asked if she could postpone her trip to the next week, but she regretfully declined. This was particularly disappointing because Cate, having been my classmate at Holy Child School, knew howmuch my birthday meant to me. As I was grappling with Cate’s absence, more friends began to express their unavailability one after another. It felt like a disaster was unfolding. My birthday was unravelling right before my eyes, a situation I had never experienced before. I was utterly upset and frustrated. Then, one of the doctors, who happened to be my boyfriend’s brother, approached me and said, “Don’t worry, you can spend the day with me, and later, we can go out.” So, we spent the day at his apartment. However, before our planned evening outing, he mentioned that we needed to make a delivery to one of my friends on campus. We arrived at my friend’s room, but it was so dimly lit that I felt uncomfortable going in. He insisted, so we knocked on the door. To my surprise, when the door swung open, I was greeted with a resounding “surprise!” as all my friends emerged from the darkness, shouting in unison. They hadn’t abandoned me; they had orchestrated this to get me out of the way so they could throw a surprise birthday celebration! I was overwhelmed with joy and so touched that I couldn’t help but shed tears. It was a fantastic turn of events. We danced and celebrated throughout the night, making it a birthday to remember. My journey led me to the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST). You might wonder how I ended up there. Well, the story unfolds during the year I completed my ‘A’ Levels when science students, including me, didn’t performwell on a national scale. This posed a significant obstacle to gaining admission to the University of Ghana Medical School, which was my initial goal because, at the time, it was the main medical school. However, fate had other plans. Someone informed my mom about the newly established Medical School at KNUST, and it offered a glimmer of hope. Yet, even securing admission at KNUST was not a walk in the park. I was admitted to study Biological Sciences, a path that I reluctantly took. My mother’s determination knew no bounds, and she explored every avenue to make my medical school dream a reality. As luck would have it, she reconnected with an old classmate of hers fromHoly Child School, Mrs. Gyebi-Ofosu (now Professor Mrs. Addy), who happened to be a senior lecturer at the School of Medical Sciences (SMS). After persistent efforts, my mother gave me the incredible news that I had been accepted at the School of Medical Sciences, KNUST. I swiftly transitioned into the field of medicine. We marked a significant milestone as we had the highest number of female students ever admitted to the School of Medical Sciences at that time. Our group consisted of about twelve female students in total, with four fromHoly Child, four fromWesley Girls, and four from other schools. We were a vibrant, lively bunch, always up for some fun. I even reported a particular boy who used to give me a hard time to my father. My dad, who had a temper, didn’t hesitate to visit the school and give the young man a stern warning. In retrospect, it was quite a daring move. We 13 The Birthday Journal
spent three years on the KNUST campus before relocating to the Medical Students’ Hostels at Komfo Anokye in our fourth year. Medical school was an uphill climb, demanding relentless dedication to our studies. The Anatomy course was particularly gruelling. I vividly recall our initial encounter with it; it was nothing short of a Herculean task. After our first Anatomy class, my friend Cate and I found ourselves needing around three buckets of water each just to bathe, washing away the figurative and literal sweat of our labour. “I can’t do this; I can never do this,” I muttered to myself, my anxiety mounting as the Anatomy exams drew near. It was an arduous subject, and my nerves were getting the best of me. But then, one of my male classmates extended a reassuring hand, walking me through the challenging moments and offering a heartfelt prayer. Together, we managed to navigate the Anatomy exam successfully. The pressure intensified during our final exams, especially since my uncle, Professor Ben Edoo, had been assigned as the examiner, travelling fromAccra to assess our performance. The last thing I wanted was to disappoint him. However, an unexpected stroke of luck saved the day. He posed the same question to most candidates, and our fellow students, who had already faced the interview, generously shared the question and their insights. By the time it was my turn, I was well-prepared to provide a brilliant answer. My uncle, a man with a strong British background and an Oxford University education, was immensely proud of my performance. He regaled my mother and aunt, Mama, with stories of how his niece had effortlessly and correctly answered all the questions. During my time in medical school, we experienced the ‘aluta days’ when Ghanaian universities were often closed due to coups and student uprisings. Before I embarked on my house officer training, I seized the opportunity to travel to London to work and earn some money. It was an adventurous chapter of my life, where I found myself working as a chambermaid and later as a nurse assistant. My dear Aunt Betty was always there to provide a reference for me and 14 The Birthday Journal
my friends who sought to work as nurse assistants. Additionally, my older sister, Janis, played a significant role by offering me thoughtful gifts to take back to school. To this day, Janis remains a pillar of support for my brothers in London, generously providing practical gifts for me during my visits or when my children come to see me. Family ties, no matter the distance, are a treasure that continues to enrich our lives. Junior Doctor days - Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital, Kumasi “Victoria noticed a hole in the carpet,” I had completed my medical school journey and embarked on my career as a doctor. I shared a flat with my friend, Faustina De Veer, and my mom had come for a visit, inspecting every nook and cranny with pride. My aunt had given us an old carpet with a hole, which we cleverly concealed with a potted plant. I was somewhat self-conscious about it and asked my mom if anyone would notice. She replied, ‘Unless they are nosy.’ Shortly after, Victoria entered and exclaimed, ‘There’s a hole in the carpet!’ Those were fun days. I worked diligently at Komfo Anokye, fully dedicated to the job I cherished. It was during this period that I met and married my first husband. My 21st birthday: I got myself a Seiko watch and a silk dress! 15 The Birthday Journal
Soon after our marriage in Ghana, we joyfully welcomed our children into the world, ushering in a new chapter in our lives. Mummy was a constant source of support during those early years of motherhood. Yvette - London, 1992 In 1992, in the heart of London, I cradled my little bundle of joy. As she slept peacefully in her hospital crib, I couldn’t help but marvel at her tiny face. She was a true marvel, one of the most incredible things to have ever happened to me. Gazing upon her, I saw the glory of God etched into her innocent features. I continuously recited the Magnificat: “My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden: For behold, from henceforth: all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath magnified me: and holy is his Name” (Luke 1: 46-55). I made a solemn vow to be as exceptional a mother to her as mine had been to me, if not even better. I was resolute about giving her the most beautiful life I could imagine. Leslie - London, 1994 In 1994, I cradled my precious bundle close to my heart and gently rocked him. His gaze met mine as if he could truly see my love. Yvette gave him the name ‘Brother.’ When family and friends came to visit, she would proudly announce that this is ‘Brother!’ After our children were born, I seized the opportunity provided by my British citizenship and applied for a DFID (British Government) scholarship to pursue my Master’s degree at the Institute of Child 16 The Birthday Journal
Health, University of London, in the United Kingdom. I was accepted into a program in Maternal and Child Health, which included a one-year job experience component. To manage our growing family, I brought my mom along to help care for the children, particularly Yvette, who was around four years old at the time. She began her schooling journey in the UK. After successfully completing my Master’s program, I continued to undertake my one-year job experience in South Africa. 17 The Birthday Journal
Steady Thirties Johannesburg, SOUTHAFRICA Motherhood engulfed me in joy, and every moment spent with my precious child awakened my maternal instincts in the most beautiful way. “ The atmosphere buzzed with energy, surrounded by lush green palm leaves encircling the pool, contrasting the captivating, crystal-clear blue waters. The impeccably dressed waitstaff glided gracefully through the crowd, offering delicate half-filled glasses of wine. Numerous tables displayed meticulously arranged rows of small appetisers, and all the guests, regardless of their origins, were resplendent in breathtaking African attire. The theme of the event was “AfricanWear,” signifying my 40th birthday – an absolutely delightful occasion. My secretary, Rachel Pedinyane, and I put in tremendous effort to ensure everyone’s punctuality. We had cleverly scheduled the invitations an hour earlier for our African guests and right on time for ourWhite guests. Despite our meticulous planning, a few of our African friends still managed to maintain their reputation for being fashionably late. Nevertheless, the celebration was graced by the presence of all, making it an exceptional evening. The jubilant chorus of “Happy Birthday to you” periodically echoed through the air, creating an atmosphere of unadulterated joy and unforgettable moments. The dance floor was alive with movement and rhythm. 18 The Birthday Journal
Initially, I had intended to stay in South Africa for just a year, but life had different plans. I ended up staying an additional seven years. I had gone alone, leaving my mom and the kids in London, but they joined me later. My time in South Africa was a truly remarkable experience. I had the privilege of working with my exceptional boss, Helen Rees, a white South African with British roots, who was married to a South African of Indian ancestry. Helen had connections with the British Ambassador in South Africa and the head of DFID, and she had just established a Research Unit to assist previously disadvantaged black South Africans. Helen’s vision was to make research more practical for policymaking and program implementation, rather than purely academic. At that time, I had recently completed my Master’s degree, and to my surprise, Helen appointed me as the Clinical Director of the Unit at the age of thirty-three. This role provided an incredible opportunity for personal and professional growth and allowed me to explore territories I had never ventured into before. When I joined the research unit, there were only twelve of us. We operated a Reproductive Health Clinic and conducted research. My contributions were significant, and the unit experienced substantial growth during my tenure, eventually employing over one hundred and fifty people. We extended our support not only to South Africa but also to countries like Ethiopia, Kenya, and Zambia. One of our notable achievements was the establishment of a Reproductive Health ResearchMethods Course, which I had initiated. We even had participants fromGhana and Nigeria. This period of my life was deeply enriching, a 19 The Birthday Journal
tremendous learning opportunity, and it felt like a place I could stay forever. Several significant events transpired during my time in South Africa: I got divorced frommy first husband; my father passed away; my son, Steve, was born in 1999 in Johannesburg; Yvette went to a boarding school, Wycombe Abbey School, in the UK; and I met my current husband, Kwame Asiedu. Dad was sixty-eight when he passed away, a relatively young age in hindsight, likely due to hypertension. The day I received the news while on assignment in the South African provinces remains etched in my memory. His funeral was a challenging experience that exposed the complexities of family dynamics during such times. My siblings and I took some responsibility for his funeral arrangements, including purchasing the coffin, suit, and brochures. However, tensions arose when my father’s family exhibited hostility towards us, even refusing to release his body to us during the wake keeping. Thankfully, my connections frommy Medical School days came to the rescue, 20 The Birthday Journal
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allowing us to claimmy father’s body. The situation was further complicated by the absence of a receipt to identify his body, requiring the mortuary staff and me to examine several bodies before we located my father’s remains. I was also pregnant at the time. The shock on my family’s faces when we brought the body for the wake keeping was palpable. Reading his tribute in Twi and English was an emotional moment for me, as I highlighted his significant investments in our education. During my time in South Africa, Yvette embarked on her boarding school journey in the UK. She secured admission toWycombe Abbey School, a prestigious girls’ school. Her determination to gain admission was remarkable; she dedicated nearly all her days, including holidays, to relentless studying. My dear friend Rosemary Orleans-Ansah played an indispensable role in guiding me through the selection of top UK schools for my children and provided invaluable support throughout their boarding school days in the UK. Steve - Johannesburg, 1999 In 1999, cradling him in my arms, I felt an unspoken promise of love and care, a profound motherly bond forming between us. His tiny fingers and radiant eyes filled my world with pure delight. From the very first breath he took, I knew we’d treasure every moment, no matter how big or small. We were destined to watch him grow and stand tall. When I first laid eyes on Kwame Asiedu, the HIV/AIDS advisor introduced by Helen Rees, I couldn’t help but think, “This brother Helen has invited to present the USG-funded HIV/AIDS and Family Planning Project Report is quite attractive.” However, I had just emerged from a difficult relationship and wasn’t ready to dive into a new one. A fewmonths later, he returned to Johannesburg on another assignment with a colleague. I thought, “Why not invite them over for dinner? It won’t hurt.” That evening, I discovered that he was incredibly fun to be around. Our paths crossed again when I met him inWashington during a work-related program, and later, at a conference in Nairobi. It was inWashington that we felt a strong connection but given that both of us had recently experienced challenging breakups, we approached the budding relationship cautiously. Our friend Millicent Clarke, however, encouraged us to give it a shot. Now, over twenty years later, we’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re still going strong. 22 The Birthday Journal
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New York - The atmosphere was electric, with disco lights flashing and ‘70s disco music filling the room, constantly shifting from red to purple to green. The venue was packed with people streaming in, but there was a puzzling problem: they all seemed like strangers. Who were these party crashers? Panic was starting to set in. Gathering my courage, I approached one of the unfamiliar faces, and upon closer inspection, I realised it was a good friend of mine, decked out in full ‘70s disco attire! Laughter bubbled out of me. It was my fiftieth birthday, and I had chosen the ‘70s disco theme myself. Yet, I couldn’t even recognise my friends who had wholeheartedly embraced the theme. Friends from the US, Holy Child, South Africa, Nigeria, Geneva, and Ghana had all come to celebrate. It was truly special, to witness the various chapters of my life represented in one room. In the US, the celebration spanned three delightful days. On Friday, we kicked off with a meet and greet, followed by the main event on Saturday. Sunday brought a mass at my home, followed by a birthday brunch with a stunning pink theme. Everyone was adorned in shades of pink, making it an absolutely delightful experience. ortified FForties GLOBAL VOYAGER! 25 The Birthday Journal
Nigeria “What do you mean you’ve never heard of palm nut soup or groundnut soup?” I quizzed my Nigerian counterparts. Their puzzled looks prompted them to respond, “No, really, we haven’t.” That’s when I knew it was time for a culinary adventure. We decided to introduce them to the delights of these delicious West African dishes. In Abuja, Nigeria, we hosted a yam fufu (Nigerian-style) party. Steaming bowls of groundnut and palm nut soup adorned the table, and each guest was treated to a small dish of fufu, crowned with their choice of soup. The experience was fantastic, and we danced the night away, celebrating the union of two vibrant cultures. Nigeria became my next destination after South Africa. Helen would have been thrilled for me to stay longer, but it was DFID that funded my work, and they had other plans. Being a single mother to three children would have been challenging without the educational support provided by DFID. I applied for the role of DFID advisor. However, the interviews proved quite challenging, and I failed to secure the position. During my time in South Africa, my close Nigerian friends, Julitta and Seyi Onabanjo, who lived on a nearby street, provided immense support. We had become like family, and I remember discussing my job situation with Julitta’s father, Daddy Duncan, during one of his visits. He offered to pray for me. Surprisingly, I received a call later, and to my delight, DFID offered me a position as an HIV/AIDS advisor in Nigeria. It was an incredible turn of events, and I later realised that Nigeria was a challenging place for many. While in Nigeria, I crossed paths with a young Nigerian girl named Jessica Gwar, who was recommended to me by my predecessor. She was in search of a job to support her through university. I introduced her to a few opportunities, but it became evident that some people were taking advantage of her, so she came to live with me. Eventually, she became my adopted daughter. My time in Nigeria was marked by personal milestones as well. I purchased a brand-new car, and I distinctly remember all the workers gathering around, offering prayers, and expressing gratitude to God for the possibility that someone like them, a black person, could afford a brand-new car. As my son Leslie approached eleven, I began exploring options for his secondary education, intending to send him to a boarding school in England. Meanwhile, my youngest son, Steve, wasn’t thriving in Nigeria and disliked school. My mother and I discovered a boarding school in England called St. John’s Beaumont that accepted students as young as six years old. On the advice of my mother, we decided to enrol Steve there as well, with the understanding that if he didn’t adapt, we would reconsider. To our surprise, Steve thrived at the school, returning home with a plumper frame. 26 The Birthday Journal
Kimberley - London, 2005 In 2005, as I held her, I knew she was a treasure, sweet and pure, adorned with joy and love. Her laughter, like a light, filled our lives with endless grace. It was evident, right from the start, that I would have my personal handbag, my pension baby, my confidant, and my companion throughout the years to come. When she was born, I knewmy family was complete. One of the best outcomes of my time in Nigeria was the enduring friendship I forged with Joyce Nzekwu. She became a friend for life. I will always remain her support during the boys’ school sports days, us yelling at the top of our voices as the boys won their races and set school records. However, my job wasn’t the best fit, with the working environment being challenging due to arrogance and inadequate expertise. Consequently, I started searching for new job opportunities and soon found a position with theWorld Health Organization (WHO), which led me to Geneva. Geneva In Geneva, I shared memorable moments with friends and colleagues like Victor andMary Bampoe, Mercy Ahun, Dela Dovlo, and more. Every six weeks or so, we’d gather for get-togethers in my garden, alternating hosting duties. These occasions were filled with joy, featuring a large barbecue in one corner, with the music expertly curated by my cousinWilliamEffah. The intoxicating aroma of grilled meat mixed with the scent of summer flowers filled the air. Clear skies, beautiful views, great music, and dancing made for an unforgettable experience. We were a group of African professionals living in Geneva. I can’t talk about my time in Geneva without mentioning my cousinWilliam. He was incredibly supportive, always picking me up and dropping me off at the airport, even with his busy schedule. He was a pillar of strength and assistance. My role in Geneva was as a Medical Officer, Women and Youth, where I worked on developing HIV prevention strategies for women and scaling up male circumcision as an HIV prevention method. This job entailed extensive travel. Additionally, I frequently travelled between Geneva and the UK to visit my children, coordinating their flights to and from school and arranging weekend exeats and half-terms for them. I also brought my ‘adopted Nigerian’ daughter Jessica over to visit on two occasions. 27 The Birthday Journal
Mummy - The End of an Era - United States I was in Geneva at the time, and my mother’s passing cast a shadow over my stay there. She had developed a persistent sore throat between March and April of 2010, prompting me to ask my sister to take her for further tests. It turned out that she had an aggressive form of cancer called Anaplastic thyroid cancer, which I had never heard of. At that time, I was on a mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo, when Adjoa called with the diagnosis, so I resorted to googling it and discovered its severity. My sister Adjoa, who was in Fredericksburg, made every effort to provide my mother with the best possible care. By August, my children and I visited her, and her condition appeared to have improved. However, by December, the pain had returned. The devastating news of my mother’s unresponsiveness reached me through a frantic call frommy cousin in the US. Henrietta was incoherent and sounded hysterical, making it impossible to have a coherent conversation. She had contacted the emergency services, and an ambulance had arrived. Henrietta handed over the phone to the paramedics, and when they asked whether they should attempt resuscitation, I, a doctor, knew it was futile. Besides, my mother was seventy-eight, and her health had deteriorated significantly. I instructed them not to resuscitate her. I sat down, overcome by exhaustion, and murmured to myself, “Mummy, it’s only December 17th, why now? If only you could have held on a bit longer.” I had bought tickets for myself and the children to spend Christmas with her. Memories of the beautiful times we had shared flooded my mind, and I wished I could relive them. It was heart-wrenching; my mother had always been proud of my accomplishments, but it would have been even better for her to see all that I had achieved. One of my friends left the meeting upon learning of my mom’s demise and returned with a comforting cup of tea. Soon, everyone in the meeting gathered around me for support. I requested that they call my cousinWilliam, who took me home. When I arrived home, I lay on the floor and cried for hours. It was an outpouring of grief. My daughter Yvette, feeling sympathetic, prepared a special lunch for me when I returned to work three days later. I couldn’t eat it, but out of gratitude for her 28 The Birthday Journal
efforts, I took it with me to work. During lunchtime, my Swiss friend Carol Rodocanachi approached me, insisting that I join her for lunch. She sat there, slowly eating her meal, and talked and talked. For nearly a week, Carol invited me to lunch daily. Some of her words have stayed with me until today. Carol had lost her mother at a young age and she said, “Kim, you know, it will never go away, but I promise you, it’s going to get better. The pain is going to get better.” She was right. The pain never disappears, but it does get easier to bear. Carol provided the unconventional therapy I needed. After Christmas, I travelled to the United States to handle the funeral arrangements, returning to Geneva before departing for Ghana to make final preparations for the funeral, which took place in February 2011. We held a wake in the US, and it was incredible. People from all walks of life, some claiming distant relations to us, attended. My mother had always been a socialite, constantly talking to various people, so it wasn’t surprising that so many individuals showed up. By the end of the day, we had collected substantial donations, which covered the expenses for shipping her body back to Ghana and other funeral arrangements. We even had some money left over for the one-year commemoration. It was a testament to the kindness and impact she had on so many lives. New York Moving to the USA to work at UNICEF as a Senior Adviser for Maternal and Newborn Health in 2012 was a significant milestone. I had a great work team in the USA – Aline Simen Kapeu, Seun Oyedele, KristenWenz, and Christabel Nyange. We did great work, coordinating the development of the first-ever global newborn action plan. While I was in New York, I moved into this beautiful mansion. I had always dreamt of living in a mansion. It was beautiful. I remember my aunt coming to visit me and feeling both happy and sad at the same time. She was excited for me but sad that Mummy had not lived long enough to see it. At that time, Kimberley was really young, and I had a wonderful nanny, Julie Ann Thomas, looking after her. New York was nice, family was there, and that year we spent Thanksgiving with Adjoa and her family. Her Thanksgiving prayer was thanking God for bringing her big sister to the US! It was during this time that my adopted Nigerian daughter, Jessica, contacted me, asked for an invitation, and surprisingly got the visa to join us in the USA, and she continues to live there to this day. I even now have a grandson, Brandon. I celebrated my 50th birthday in New Jersey, and just before I left the US inMay 2016, I had another birthday party, and the theme was “Painting New York Red.” So we all wore red and met on a Friday after work. There were lots of Holy Child friends at that party. I think we were sixteen in all. We waited until midnight to cut the cake and then did a lot of dancing before sleeping. Then the following morning, which was my actual birthday, we woke up late, had an ‘ampesi’ breakfast together, and that night went for a dinner cruise on the New York River, the Hudson River. It was fantastic. And then when we were coming home, I wanted a limousine ride, so we rode a limousine home. It was really nice. 29 The Birthday Journal
Navigating Thefifties Freetown, SIERRA LEONE Celebrating birthdays in Sierra Leone was always an extraordinary experience. The theme was consistently white, and the festivities extended throughout the week. The celebrations were characterised by unique and fantastic elements. Birthday gatherings were diverse, featuring activities like sailing around the Freetown peninsula on a rented boat, garden parties, lakeside celebrations, and even events at the office. One memorable occasion coincided with Anti-Female Genital Mutilation Day, turning the day into a powerful combination of advocacy and celebration. 30 The Birthday Journal
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Additionally, Fridays during the birthday week were dedicated to hosting a special children’s party for the staff ’s kids, creating a heartwarming family atmosphere. Key coordinators for these festivities were Tina Davies and SattuMusa. To add a touch of togetherness, staffmeetings were incorporated into the celebration day, followed by a shared lunch. After work, my office often turned into an impromptu dance floor, where some of the ladies from the team joined in, dancing the evening away. One particularly special birthday featured staff wearing orange t-shirts with my name printed on them, creating a sense of unity and camaraderie during the celebration. I n 2016, I was transferred to Sierra Leone after four years in the USA, and it was nice to be back in Africa. It felt like coming back home, yet it marked a new phase in my life. It was one of the most challenging times in my career as Sierra Leone is a complex country. Coupled with having the highest maternal mortality rate in the world at the time, it was a demanding environment. I had to work with coaches for a couple of years. I had two excellent coaches, Wilben Smith andModupe TaylorPearce, who supported me through challenging times. Joining their Breakfast Club Africa connected me with peers in leadership positions, providing mutual support. Modupe’s wife, Renee, became a dear sister, and our children, including my daughter Kimberley, spent time together during the holidays. I also had great mentees in Freetown: Fiona Kaikai, Betty Alpha, Sonia Gilroy, Pearl Nanka-Bruce, Musu Kawusu-Kebbey, Ashmao Tarawalli, Nafisa Jones, John Bemba Sesay, and Fatmata. We also had a UN psychologist, Dr. Gladys Palmer, who was brought in during the COVID-19 times to support staff in their mental wellbeing. It seems I benefited the most from her service because every Thursday in the year 2020, she would come into my office and just talk, which was really good for me, especially as it was the lockdown period, and I was feeling kind of isolated. Another fun thing I established in Sierra Leone was jollof rice competitions. I always thought jollof rice was a Ghanaian and Nigerian thing until I got to Sierra Leone. I mean, they just kept talking about jollof until I decided one day that we should have a contest between Sierra Leonean, Nigerian, Ghanaian, Senegalese, and Liberian jollof. There were over sixty people at that contest, and, of course, we cooked other meals as well. We laid out the tables, and were all dressed in ‘Kim’s signature white’. I had a Ghanaian scarf, which I waved over and over as I danced all around. The competition was intense. In fact, there was so 33 The Birthday Journal
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much fun that everyone was declared a winner, even though we Ghanaians had the loudest voices. After that, we decided to do it every year, and it grew so big that we would have to hire a venue. People didn’t pay to enter, but everyone contributed to it in one way or the other. I started to coordinate the ‘International Jollof Rice Competition’ with a small group of friends: Hajia Hawa Toure, Nemata Majeke-Walker, and Hajia IsattaWurie. We even made bottled water with the competition’s name on it. People came up with all kinds of food, like cassava bread, and Banga soup, we even fried ‘kelewele,’ and it sold out. Then again, I would bring Ghanaian sweets and all kinds of things fromGhana; we needed to represent Ghana, you know. It was simply amazing. I must state for the record, Sierra Leonean jollof is really tasty; they use more onions in their jollof, Aunty Tess’s jollof is amazing. And, of course, there is sumptuous jollof from Senegal too. I can’t talk about Freetown without remembering my beloved friends: Mary Magdalene Mensah, Peninah Kariuki, and Her Excellency, Liberian Ambassador Musu Jatu Ruhle. We used to spend every Sunday together at HEMusu’s house, doing our pedicures and feasting together. Musu fed us all during the Lockdown, and we spent many days in her house; we wished for more lockdown days! Sierra Leone was indeed a challenging yet fulfilling experience. Despite the difficulties, I achieved a lot during my time there. I successfully established a Covid-19 Treatment Centre and Isolation ward in response to the pandemic, collaborating with Pearl andMusu, we built a hospital and several clinics. Additionally, I undertook a comprehensive office human resource reorganisation to improve efficiency of the office. One notable event during my time in Sierra Leone was the mudslide, which required immediate attention and coordination. Even though I was on leave at the time, I rushed back to Sierra Leone within 24 hours to help organise ground support for the survivors. However, my tenure in Sierra Leone did end on a somewhat troubling note as I faced career challenges. I had to navigate the stress of managing both work responsibilities and personal issues affecting others, particularly during the Covid-19 crisis. Moreover, I had to contend with allegations of harassment made against me by one particular staff member. The investigations were taxing, but I am relieved that I was eventually cleared of these accusations. Apia, SAMOA I received a text message while I was on leave and relaxing. It was frommy secretary, Josie Epa, and the message read: “I have organised a mass for your birthday.” I replied, saying, “Oh, okay,” feeling quite surprised. The next thing I knew, she texted again, “I have spoken to the priest. You are a mass lector. I told him you can read at mass.” “Okay,” I replied, thinking to myself, wow. Then, another text came, “Oh, the bishop is going to conduct the mass.” Amazing! So there I was, standing, reading for the mass and the bidding prayers. The best part was that all ten members of my staff were there. It was wonderful. They did the offertory and carried the lectionary in. Afterward, they held a big feast to mark my 59th birthday. 37 The Birthday Journal
I had only been back in New York for four months after Sierra Leone whenWHO, out of the blue, offered me a Representative position at a higher level. It felt unbelievable. I had been on theWHO Representative roster for over a decade, and nothing had materialised until this surprising opportunity came along. I was appointed as the Head of theWHOOffice and Representative to Samoa, American Samoa, Cook Islands, Niue, and Tokelau. The move to Samoa is another story altogether. My journey began on 18 December 2021, and it wasn’t until March 29, 2022, that I finally set foot in Samoa. Prior to that, I spent nearly three months in Fiji with my friend Tawia Addo-Ashong. Tawia helped me celebrate my 58th birthday in grand style. Staying true to my tradition, I had a week-long celebration, all themed in white. Tawia and I headed to the Marriott, where we stayed in a beautiful waterfront room for three days. Now, Samoa is an island, and obviously much smaller than anywhere I have ever worked. Interestingly, they are a very small country with a population of about 200,000. My other Islands are not that much bigger. Besides, they don’t have a problemwith maternal or child mortality, so the challenges are not as significant as what I am used to. Instead, they had a huge problemwith hypertension, diabetes, and obesity. About 60% of the population is obese. Samoans are very warm and express their love through food, which is probably the reason for the high rate of obesity. Samoan hospitality rivals African hospitality – maybe even better? There’s not that much to do in Apia socially, but I have kept myself busy. I have made some good friends here, including a Ugandan sister whom I met in transit in New Zealand and an African Catholic nun. I have had a few people come over to visit, including my husband, and Tawia. My good friend and former flatmate Faustina De Veer lives in New Zealand, so she is close by, and I have visited and enjoyed her hospitality. Life has continued to unfold beautifully in Samoa. I am learning to embrace it fully, realising that life is both beautiful and short. And NOW, This is 60! 38 The Birthday Journal
Memories with Kim Kim, on your 60th birthday, I can’t help but reminisce about our mischievous adventures. Remember those laundry escapades? Mom entrusted us with money to do the laundry – a simple mission: wash, spin, and dry the clothes. However, temptation always lurked nearby, with a bakery next door and a chip shop just across the street. We couldn’t resist, and the money meant for laundry often ended up invested in cakes and chips. The result?When we returned from our weekly feasts, Mom had dinner ready, only for you to claim you were full. You even explained how I had treated you to cakes and chips, leaving our uncles and aunts in stitches! Your transformation from a quiet and shy individual into a confident and thoughtful person is truly fascinating. I’ve had the privilege of watching my ‘little’ sister grow into the incredible person you are today. Your approach to your career and family has been nothing short of remarkable. You’ve seized opportunities and worked tirelessly to provide for your family, even extending your support to our relatives. I’ve always known I can count on you for support. Thank you, Sis. Enjoy your special day! Our journey fromGhana to London during the turbulent ‘80s wasn’t easy. At the British consulate in Accra, we faced a stern official who made it challenging for us to obtain our passports. I must admit, I lost my temper, but you, the diplomat, tried to calmme down discreetly. When we left, you explained that my outburst might have cost us our passports, but I argued that it was our right and the official was simply being difficult. I can’t imagine anyone daring to deal with you like that today! I am fully aware that your legacy will be one of focus and hard work. You’ve not only set an example for your children but also for your niece, who looks up to you as a go-getter, a high achiever, and a passionate traveler. Your influence is already shaping the next generation. And, ah, the memories from your days at Tech. Your approach to my belongings was quite unique. You’d visit London and lay claim to anything of mine that caught your eye. I even put a lock on my door, but you ended up with the key anyway. Those were the times! Walking down ClaphamHigh Street with you brings back a flood of memories. Settling in Ghana and seeing you off to Holy Child School in Cape Coast. I can’t forget that one time when one of your boxes didn’t make it on the same bus as you did, and I received quite a scolding from our parents. I’ve always felt more like your guardian than your older brother, which is quite amusing considering we’re not that far apart in age. Happy 60th, Kim! Here’s to many more years of wonderful memories and adventures. Your ‘big’ brother Anthony 39 The Birthday Journal
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