Content Half a Century of Nana Ama’s Journey 04 12 19 26 From Primary Playgrounds to University Uncertainties Relocation, Love and Family Bonds From Fear to Advocacy 3 The Birthday Journal
A Scale-breaking Baby “What a big baby!” the nurses exclaimed as my mom and my aunt approached the weighing table at the Maternity Section of the Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital, with me neatly swaddled up and sleeping. “Can you put her on the scale?” the nurse said, looking quite alarmed by my size, but my mother didn’t think the scale could take my weight. On the insistence of the determined nurses, my mother handed me over to be duly weighed. No sooner had the nurse put me on the scale than crash! The scale came crashing down; it was broken! “Pick her up!” “Pick her up!” The nurses called out crossly to my mother, but my mum reminded them, “We asked you not to put her on the scale!” Half a Century of Nana Ama’s Journey School Days and Lessons Beyond the Classroom 4 The Birthday Journal
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This was not surprising. I was born a big baby, and even on January 12, 1974, when I was born at the Maternity Ward of Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital in Kumasi, my parents, Dr. George Kofi Baffour Nsenkyire Akosa, and Mabel Akua Domaa Antwi (Mrs. Akosa), looked on, stunned by the size of their newborn baby girl. They named me Nana Ama Konadu YiadomAkosa. I must have been quite an independent baby because my mother would tell me stories of how she would leave me at home for a few hours to attend to her job as a teacher, having had no house help at the time. She would prepare my food in bottles and put it next to me in my crib; then when I woke up, I would turn, take the bottle, stick it in my mouth, suck its contents, and then go back to sleep. My Childhood My father was a lecturer in Civil Engineering at the University of Science and Technology, later becoming the Minister of Science and Technology during Rawlings’ time. He eventually became a consultant. My mother was a teacher at Amadiyah Secondary School and later became a baker with her own bakery. I remember how people used to line up for her bread in the morning. The bread was always ready by 6.00 am, and we woke up at 4.00 am to start baking. She would light the traditional oven, and by 4.45 am, we would start putting the bread in. She later stopped to pursue business, working the Accra-London route before settling in the United States of America. Mom was a great cook and taught me everything I know in the kitchen today. 7 The Birthday Journal
Our home may not have always been filled with laughter, but there were great memories of Dad who loved holidays, especially Christmas, and would let us help with decorating the tree. On the other hand, Mom baked all the cookies, cakes, and cooked the best meals during Christmas. Being the only girl between Mom and Dad I had two brothers after me - Nana Akwasi Obiri Yeboah Charles Francois Akosa and Jones Clifford Paa Kwabena Akosa. One might have thought I would be a pampered child; however, this was not the case. In fact, Mom’s favorite saying was that because I was her only daughter, she was not going to spoil me. I was therefore engaged in every domestic chore. I also have an older half-sister, Thelma AkosuaWusua Akosa, and a younger half-brother, Kofi Otuo Acheampong Akosa. MyMomwas strict, but my Dad was stricter. A disciplinarian, if you told a lie and he found out, you were in serious trouble. You got beaten for that. So I learned quickly not to be in that position. I may have come across as a perfect child to my siblings, but it was just because I didn’t want to be beaten. The highlights of my childhood were when our cousins would come to our house over the long vacations, or when we all would be sent to Asante Mampong to spend time with Grandma Salomey. I looked forward to these times because I lovedwhen she sent us all out to sell baked goods and other wares. She was a good cook and a jack of all trades. 8 The Birthday Journal
Sometimes all it takes is just one prayer to change everything. Amen. “ 9 The Birthday Journal
Primary School Memories “Bridget Kyerematen, would you like to come and spend the night at my place?” I asked Bridget, my best friend in primary five. With my parents away, and only my brothers at home, the idea of Bridget joining me for a night of play, akin to the younger sister I never had, was too tempting. After school, we eagerly grabbed our bags and headed to my house for a memorable day. We pretended to cook, laughed and talked for hours, binged-watched television, and feasted on the food my mother had left in the freezer. That night, oblivious to Bridget’s worried parents, we chatted deep into the night. The next day, we innocently went to school, only to find Bridget’s mother waiting with a face like a hurricane. We received the beatings of our lives that day. Primary five seemed to be a challenging year, as another significant incident unfolded negatively for me. Despite waking up early and taking a bath, I found myself unusually uninterested in preparing for school. Instead, I playfully hopped around the house, ignoring my mother’s occasional warnings to stop fooling around. In a sudden misstep, I landed heavily on my elbow, causing it to fracture. I didn’t need a prophet to tell me that I was in a whole lot of trouble. Despite these mishaps, primary school, on the whole, was fun. After attending City of Kumasi from Kindergarten through primary two, I transferred to University Primary School at the University of Science and Technology, Kumasi, where I stayed from primary two to six. From Primary Playgrounds to University Uncertainties 12 The Birthday Journal
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Secondary School Memories Sitting on the bed in Clark House in Achimota School, I suddenly felt overwhelmingly lonely. It seemed most of us first-formers shared that sentiment as our parents bid us farewell. Hardly had they left when senior girls started coming around, assigning chores, and singling me out. “You, yes you,” one of the seniors pointed at me, “fetch six buckets of water from the swimming pool every morning.” The laughter of other seniors filled the air. Being the biggest form one student and well-behaved, I became an easy target for bullies. True to her word, I fetched six buckets each morning, while other first-formers managed only two. The seniors viewed me as a Goliath among the first-formers. The initial joy of admission to Achimota School turned into a sobering reality. After all, it was by far one of the best schools in the country, and I had felt such pride to be attending it. Perhaps I was too optimistic in my expectations because the seniors turned out to be such terrible bullies, resulting in some of them getting suspended during the middle of the term, on which days I jubilated quietly in my head. Life improved after form one. Now a bit of a senior, we had form one students coming in, and seniors’ attention shifted to them, sparing us. Finally, as form five seniors, we enjoyed the privilege of having our hair done and more. Life became good, and I cherished every moment. At Achimota School, I excelled as an athlete, participating in field events like discus, javelin, and shot put. Shot put became my forte, earning me a thirdplace finish in one of the inter-school college events. Unfortunately, my dad insisted I stop being an athlete after lower six, emphasizing the need to focus on O-levels. After my O-levels, I attended Labone Secondary School for a term but transferred to Technology Secondary School in Kumasi for the rest of lower six through upper six. I left Labone due to concerns about the high level of socializing among the girls, and the lack of a wall in the dormitory allowed unauthorized male visitors to come and go freely. Unhappy with the situation and the lackluster Arts program, I persuaded my mom to speak to the head of Tech Secondary School, where I was eventually admitted. I loved Tech Secondary School. In the end, I was chosen as their Girl’s Prefect, and life was good. I tried to instill in the students the little values I had learned fromAchimota School. University Days I was at home, fretting about my future prospects. I had been admitted to the University of Science and Technology to pursue a B.A. program in Arts and had started the course. The only problem was that the lecturers were on strike, and we had been home for such a long time that it seemed the strike would never end. Many thoughts went through my mind; when would I even graduate, much less get a job? Besides, it was so boring, spending all day at home doing nothing much from morning to night. While dressing up that morning, I decided to call mymom, whowas in theUSA at the time, telling her that I just wanted to come for a vacation. However, I had actually planned that I wasn’t going to come back. When my dad found out about my phone call to my mother, he was very annoyed with me and asked me to write the invitation letter myself, which I did inmy naivety, something that any Visa Officer would not bother to look at twice. I didn’t know that my father had written the letter himself already and sent it to the American Embassy. I only found this out after he passed. This was in 1995, that was when I left the shores of Ghana. 16 The Birthday Journal
Don’t forget, that even when life gets hard and you feel like giving up, there is a future that you haven’t seen yet. Stay strong, believe in yourself and never stop moving forward. “ 17 The Birthday Journal
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U.S. Sojourn “I really like you, you know?”said the gentleman whom I had come to consider as an uncle. I reeled back in disgust. That was so unexpected. To ward him off, I told him that I had a serious boyfriend and was not interested in going out with him. You would have thought that I had fought with all the guys in the house. They suddenly became hostile to me, causing me to call my mother to tell her about the development. The United States of America was not a bed of roses as I initially thought. I had thought that I could start working as soon as I landed in the country. How wrong I was, for upon arriving there, I realized that mom was sharing a flat in Newark with this group of guys, while she worked as a CertifiedHome Health Aide. Then, she got a new case in South Jersey and had to move. As soon as she left, one of the gentlemen began to hit onme, which I declined, with the excuse that I had a serious boyfriend. Immediately, the other guys became hostile towards me, prompting me to call Mom, who asked me to come over to South Jersey. Relocation, Love and Family Bonds 19 The Birthday Journal
In South Jersey, I lived with my mother at her job, but nobody knew. She would wake me up as early as 5.00 a.m. After getting up, I would dress up and go to sit in front of the mall until it opened. I stayed there the entire day until around 5.00 p.m. At that time, the client would be eating and wouldn’t see me enter the apartment. I would lay on the floor to sleep. Wemaintained this routine for almost six months before finally getting our own apartment, which we gradually furnished. It took quite a while, but I finally got my documentation, which enabledme towork.My first jobwas at The School of Vineland, where I worked as a group home counselor for children with special needs. I did this for three years, then in 1999, I moved to work with Arc of Somerset, which was the same line as the School of Vineland. Fromthere, Imoved toCentral Brunswick, then to Bridgewater, and finally to St. Peter’s Hospital. Love at First Sight It was a cousin’s wedding, and I had been assigned to the gift table. Also at the table was this hot guy. My! He was cute! The moment I laid eyes on him, it felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. I was really nervous. I think he must have felt the same about me because he immediately engaged me in conversation, talking the whole time. I was so nervous; I didn’t even know what I was writing down from these people giving the gifts. I was very nervous because I really liked him, right from the get-go, and it looked like he did too. I found out his name was Evan Fosu. After the wedding event, he managed to get my phone number from my cousin, and that was when we really started talking. But most of the time, he came to visit at home, since he had his own car. After we had dated and lived together for a while, we finally decided that it was time to formalize our relationship. The parents decided that it was time to put it on paper and make it official. That was in 1999. So, an engagement ceremony was held in Ghana, in our absence; you know what Ghanaian engagements are like. When it came to the part where they asked me whether they should accept the gifts the groom had brought and whether I liked theman, I was asked on the phone, and of course, I was like, “Yes, go ahead and take the dowry and gifts.” So that’s how we got engaged. However, we never had a white wedding. We just couldn’t afford to have one at the time. Evan is a Jehovah’s Witness, and I’m a Presbyterian by birth. We have made our marriage work very well by just respecting each other’s religious background. THREE BUNDLES OFMIRACLES Audrick I looked into my baby’s shiny eyes, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. I had suffered a miscarriage during my first pregnancy, so this particular pregnancy had filled me with much trepidation. What if we did not make it to its full term? However, God proved faithful, and it felt fulfilling to be holding my precious bundle of joy in my arms. We named him Audrick Dada Kwame Fosu. At this time, IwasworkingwithWachoviaBank, thatwas before it was renamed Wells Fargo Bank. While at the bank, I got a call frommy previous employers to say that they had opened a brand newGroupHome in Princeton, and it just had one client starting. So I left the bank, and I came to work as a manager for Arc of Somerset. The only snag was that my Audrick had just started school, and even though I devoted myself to just working on the weekends, I still needed to have a babysitter. Somehow all my paycheck went to pay the babysitter, which when my husband analyzed it, made no sense. What was the sense in using all one’s paycheck to pay the babysitter when they could babysit their own kids? This was what caused me to become a stay-at-home mom. At this time, I was also studying for my Associates at Katherine Gibbs School of Graphic Arts. Siegmund While at Katherine Gibbs School, I got pregnant with my second child, a pregnancy that passed smoothly and ended with the birth of our second son, Siegmund YawAsare Bediako Fosu, on 11/28/2002. Heweighed 7 lbs 19 oz, 19 inches at birth. It took another eight years before Kendall-Jeffrey Kwame Baffour Nsenkyire Fosu, who we also call Kendall the D.J., came along, and that was after I had suffered one ectopic pregnancy. Kendall I felt one strong kick inmy abdomen, so I clutchedmy stomach and doubled over. Then several kicks more, and the baby in my womb seemed to be moving. It was as if it was agitated. Reaching out for my MP3, I pressed ‘play,’ and the soothing sound of Enya, the Irish singer filled the room. Immediately, the movement stopped, and the kicking also stopped. My baby was calmer. I was quite surprised. Had the baby calmed down because of the music, or was it something else? Reaching out for the MP3, I switched it off, and then the kicking and restlessness started again. Interesting. It became quite obvious that the baby was responding positively to the music. This was fascinating indeed, so for this third pregnancy, we kept Enya’s music on all the time, and that was how we had a good pregnancy. Fast forward to another ten months, and I noticed that baby Kendall was experiencing some speech problems. Anytime he tried to speak, it sounded scrambled. If he said something and he was sure we did not understand, he would pull us towards what he wanted and point it out. Wait a minute, was my baby experiencing delayed speech or something? I took the time to really monitor the situation. It seemed my son’s vocabulary was too few for his age; for instance, he wasn’t even saying ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ and if he said something and realized that we had not understood him, he would hold our hand, pull us along, and point out whatever he wanted. At one, he still wasn’t talking; hemumbled stuff, but he wasn’t giving us sentences, so, when he turned two, we realized that we needed to get help. 20 The Birthday Journal
Naturally, thismademe verydepressedbecause Iwas the one at home all the time with him, and so it was a very tough time for me. And then finally, the speech therapists started coming home when he was two, and then he terminated when he was three. So they put him in school, on the early childhood program at three, and they startedwith speech therapy at school. What I used to do was, I would take him to school, taking him for therapy first before he went to the classroom, and then I would come home, and pick himup when school closed. So he did therapy for five years until second grade. And then he graduated. The awesome thing was that, although he was nonverbal for a good five years, Kendall taught himself to DJ in so many languages. In Latin, German, French, and Spanish. The little boy loved music right from the womb. One day, he pulled his dad all the way to the computer and pointed at some DJ equipment, and so his dad got it for him. And that’s how it started at the age of two. By the time he graduated from KG, he started talking. He started talking because he found himself through music. His favorite thing to say in the Akan language is ‘wo saa akolaa wei.’ So that’s how Kendall became verbal. The good thing about the whole situation is that my husband and I worked very hard together on his speech, instead of allowing the experience to strain our relationship.Whenever Iwent for speech therapy sessions, his dad joined via video calls with us. So we did the sessions together. Even on days when he was at work, I would teach him all I had learned when he returned home. Little by little, Kendall started learning; he began reading. You won’t believe it, but he won his school’s spelling bee twice. 21 The Birthday Journal
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A Terrifying Journey Sorting through the mail from the mailbox, my hands trembled as I noticed an envelope from the hospital. “Yeah, yeah,” I whispered wearily to myself, pushing it aside—an invitation for a mammogram. The hospital had persistently called, but a cloud of depression loomed over me, triggered by the recent loss of my father. Unable to attend his funeral due to immigration issues, I sank deeper into despair. Ignoring the hospital’s calls, I dismissed the urgency of the mammogram. After all, there was no pain in my breast, and I felt invincible. However, a sudden jolt occurred when a friend sent me obituaries of three friends who succumbed to breast cancer. Fear and reality collided, prompting a desperate prayer to God. “Please grant me the strength to face this,” I pleaded, finally deciding to go for the mammogram. All chaos broke loose in2015when I received a breast cancer diagnosis in June. My surgery, a grueling 10hour ordeal, took place on September 9th, 2015, followed by months of chemotherapy. On that fateful day, the hospital kept me for three hours, incessantly taking pictures. The verdict: a mysteriousmass that demanded further investigation through a biopsy scheduled two days later. The subsequent call confirming my breast cancer diagnosis left me in a state of shock. Grateful that I had put my husband on the line, his voice absorbed the information as my mind recoiled in disbelief. The doctor’s last words lingered, “Nana, you need to fight this with all your strength.” Surgery and chemotherapy commenced swiftly, spanning from September to December. The toll was evident—my hair, a casualty of the battle. A regimen of Tamoxifen for five years and later Letrozole for another ten became my lifeline, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the resilience of the human spirit. From Fear to Advocacy 26 The Birthday Journal
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Time for Advocacy Surrounded by blaring music and dancing figures, I found myself standing in a corner of the party venue, quietly sipping on some wine. In that moment, a woman named Juliette Erawoc Mills-Lutterodt caught my eye fromacross the room. Approachingme, she introduced herself as a Breast Cancer Advocate, and that chance encounter marked the beginning of a profound friendship. Juliette invited me to be a guest speaker at her fundraising “Tea Party,” a pivotal moment that led to my involvement with their foundation. Now, I proudly carry the title of the “T-shirt Queen,” selling T-shirts for Pink for Africa. Empowered by the cause, I’ve become a source of encouragement for women in my community. Through the T-shirts, I motivate them to prioritize their health, emphasizing the importance of mammograms and yearly exams like pap smears. The impact has been positive; women in the community are increasingly proactive about their health, and the awareness is spreading. Passion fuels my endeavors, from my love for cooking showcased in Facebook videos to the joy of watching my children grow into exceptional young men. Reflecting on the blessings, I’m grateful that my husband and I have guided our boys away from potential pitfalls, witnessing their growth into responsible individuals. Now, I embark on a new journey, launching my foundation, “My Scars, My Journey,” dedicated to educating and creating awareness about breast cancer. The goal is to empower individuals to be the first responders for their bodies, fostering early detection and prevention. My commitment to community service extends to school involvement, from helping with lunches and volunteering with lunch ladies to active participation in the PTAas a parent liaison. I’ve served as a bridge between parents and teachers, volunteering for events like field days where DJ Jazzy Kendall, my son, showcased his musical talent. As my youngest, now thirteen, gains independence, I’ve decided it’s time to invest inmyself. Returning to work and school, I am currently enrolled in Rowan College for Billing and Coding. Life’s journey continues, and I embrace the opportunities to make a difference in the lives of those around me. 28 The Birthday Journal
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Rediscovering My Professional Self The challenges of balancing work and family hit me whenAudrick, my firstborn, started school. Working weekends seemed like a feasible option, but the costs of a babysitter quickly swallowed up all my paycheck. My husband and I couldn’t ignore the financial strain, prompting a reassessment. It was at this juncture that I took on the role of a stay-at-homemom, a decision that became evenmore crucial during the period when our son Kendall needed speech therapy. Now, reflecting on the gratitude for the time spent nurturing my family, I find myself back in the workforce after 22 years. Enrolled in Rowan College for Billing and Coding, I’m navigating the challenges and embracing the opportunities of this new chapter with excitement. The prospect of returning towork brought a sense of thrill, marking a shift fromdedicated family care to contributing in a professional setting. I’m applying the multifaceted skills honed over two decades of managing my household and raising a family, such as multitasking and problem-solving. Amid the excitement, there’s a touch of nervousness. The landscape of technology and work dynamics may have evolved during my hiatus, presenting a bit of an unknown. However, the confidence instilled by the valuable skills gained during my tenure as a stay-at-home mom serves as a reassuring anchor. A 25-Year Reflection on Growth and Change 30 The Birthday Journal
Financial flexibility emerges as a significant factor in this decision, offering not just personal fulfillment but also control over my economic well-being. Juggling work and personal life is no easy feat; it requires a delicate dance to ensure both professional commitments and family responsibilities are met with grace. Coming back to work isn’t just about finding personal fulfillment; it’s about embarking on a quest for accomplishment. It’s an invitation to dive into meaningful work and reaching professional milestones that bring both satisfaction and purpose. In simple terms, this journey back to the workforce is a personal one, shaped by experiences as a stay-athome mom and a fervent desire for self-growth. As I continue in this new phase, I carry with me the lessons learned from years of family care, ready to thrive in the professional world once again. Inspiration The wellspring of my inspiration flows from the deep reservoir of both my parents, but today, my heart aches with a poignant yearning for my late dad, a void that intensifies on this special occasion. Oh, how I wish he could be here to share in the jubilant moments! My father, a connoisseur of celebrations, left an indelible mark on me, and I find solace in continuing this legacy. Memories of my dad flood my mind, especially when he turned fifty, a milestone etched in my heart. He reveled in the joy of life, throwing three successive parties to commemorate the occasion. His penchant for celebrating birthdays every five years became a tradition that I inherited. I recall the faint recollection of being celebrated on my fifth birthday, the grandeur of my tenth birthday party with friends, and the splendid affair at fifteen. He reserved the next celebration for my twenty-first, a lavish event where he, a Minister of State, generously treated 21 of my friends and me to a delightful three-course meal at a Chinese restaurant in Accra. During milestone birthdays, a bittersweet longing lingers for my father’s presence. Oh, how I miss the laughter we would share and the love and joy that would envelop these moments. In my heart, I carry the torch of celebration that he lit, cherishing the legacy he left behind. As I embark on my 50th birthday and 25th marriage anniversary celebration, I can’t help but marvel at the many miracles that have unfolded, including emerging from the battle cancer-free for nine years and counting. To God be the glory for the great things He has done. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13 “ 31 The Birthday Journal
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In the summer of 2015, my life took an unexpected turn. I was diagnosed with breast cancer, a chilling revelation that sent shockwaves through my world. Devastation and fear gripped my heart, threatening to drown me in despair. What made it even scarier was knowing that I had a history of dealing with depression. The thought of facing breast cancer and possibly battling the shadows of depression felt like too much to handle. It was like fighting two tough battles at the same time. But with my husband by my side, he became my strength, not just against cancer but also against the fear of falling into that dark place. His support was like a lifeline, urging me to fight not just for my body but also for my mental well-being. I prayed for the strength to confront these battles head-on. A series of tests followed, each one a crucial step in understanding and defeating the enemy within. The BRCA gene test, a measure of genetic predisposition, brought relief as it came back negative. The FISH test, determining the spread of the cancer, offered another glimmer of hope—negative. The cancer was confined to my right breast. Surgery loomed on September 9th, 2015, a date etched into my memory like a badge. Chemotherapy became my next mountain to climb, a daunting journey fromOctober to December. With faith and determination, I declared that 2015 would end with me being cancer-free. And so, I celebrated the first year of triumph with a joyous gathering of family and friends—a testament to the victory over adversity. Gratitude fills my heart as I reflect on my journey through cancer, and it’s all because of the incredible people who surrounded me with love and support. My mom, Mabel, and my brothers, Akwasi and PAA, were there for me, providing steadfast strength. My sons – Audi, Siege, Kendall – became my rocks, and friends like Crystal and Joyce Ayim brought comfort in their companionship. Ike and Sherman, you guys were real MVPs, making sureKendall was taken care of during school pickups. Tony Braitwate, organizing a cleaning crew for my home after the hospital stay and surgery – your kindness meant the world to me. In those vulnerable moments, my husband and mom took care of me, even helping with something as simple as a bathwhen I couldn’t manage it on my own. Evan, with his careful attention, monitored those JP bottles – the My Scars, My Journey, A Breast Cancer Foundation 34 The Birthday Journal
lifelines charting my recovery – until they were finally removed. And then there’s Cheryl Lingard, a true friend who accompanied me to the plastic surgeon when Evan couldn’t make it. Each person in this story, each friend and family member, contributed a piece to my healing journey. In facing challenges, I discovered strength in the warmth of those who stood by me, turning tough times into a story of faith and love. The seed of gratitude and compassion planted within me blossomed into a desire to give back. PinkForAfrica became my first platform, where I joined forces with Mrs. Juliette Erawoc Mills-Lutterodt, the CEO. I shared my story as a guest speaker at a Tea Party fundraising event and contributed to the cause through the sale of shirts. Alongsidemy sonDj Jazzy Kendall, who served as the DJ, and my husband, an advisor and co-manager, we became an integral part of PinkForAfrica. Before my journey with PinkForAfrica, I harbored a dream—to start my foundation. Now, that dream has found its wings. My Scars, My Journey, a breast cancer foundation, is a manifestation of my commitment to being a beacon of hope for others facing the same battle. We embark on this mission with a profound purpose. Our foundation seeks to educate and bring awareness about breast cancer to women of African descent, young and old. Beyond awareness, we aim to provide crucial financial support to those in need, dismantling any stigma associated with this relentless disease within our community. My Scars, My Journey Breast Cancer Foundation is not just about me; it’s about all of us. We want to be the helping hand, the shoulder to lean on, and the bridge for women facing breast cancer. Whether it’s financial aid, group therapy, prosthetics, or a place to stay during treatment – the Foundation is here to support. Looking ahead, we’re dreaming big for our foundation – a safe place for women facing breast cancer. In the next five years, we aim to take big steps towards a worldwhere this tough fight is just a thing of the past. Let’s join hands to turn the tough journey into a story of success, where support and strength help women beat the odds. It might be a tough road, but every step gets us closer to a time when cancer is no longer a scary word. Together, we’re ready to make a future where hope shines bright, and the challenges today become triumphs tomorrow. 35 The Birthday Journal
“I am stronger than fear, more powerful than cancer, and nothing will break me.” - Anonymous “ 36 The Birthday Journal
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Dear Nana, I love the way you laugh at my “not-sofunny” jokes sometimes. It’s a small thing, but those moments of shared joy make our connection special. You’ve been doing that since we met at the gift table of your cousin’s wedding. I was immediately attracted to this beautiful young lady, but it took a while before a relationship could fully develop out of this encounter. I must say, I did chance to see you a while back prior to sitting at the table together at a schoolmate’s house, but you didn’t acknowledge me back then. I guess I had to up my joke game to catch your attention! I love the way you’ve embraced motherhood over the past 22 years, especially as a stay-at-home mom. Your dedication to our three boys has created a home filled with love and understanding. Watching you guide them through life’s challenges and celebrating their milestones is a testament to the incredible mother you are. I love the way you pursued your dreams, completing your associate degree in graphic design and going back to school later in life. Your commitment to personal growth and learning reflects your character and the endless possibilities you see in every stage of life. I love the way family motivates you, guiding your actions and decisions. Your current goal to complete courses and set up a business aligning with your field of study reflects your dedication to creating a better future for us. I love the way you spend your free time.Whether it’s a simple conversation, finance-draining shopping, cooking, or checkingoneverybody in the family, your activities reflect the care and attention you invest in creating a loving and nurturing environment. I love thewaywenavigatedyourhealthchallenges— your breast cancer diagnosis and mental health struggles have had a significant impact and certainly changed everything for us. Facing these challenges together has strengthened our bond, and your courage through it all has been inspiring. You handled the stress and difficulties with grace. Being cancer-free for nine years showcases not only your strength but also your ability to triumph over adversity. Ilovethewayyouapproachfamilyandrelationships, even if it means sometimes prioritizing others to the detriment of yourself. Your selflessness and care for others are the cornerstones of our family dynamics. I love the way you are—compassionate, empathetic, and considerate. You show genuine concern for the well-being and feelings of others, always attentive to the needs of people around you (except the husband, of course). You go out of your way to offer support and help to those in need. As an example, you sometimes cook for the house, only to end up dishing out the entire meal for folks in the community—friends, school teachers, pharmacists, shop attendants, etc. To the extent that the food you cook for the home is finished even before the people in the house can eat any. Your generosity knows no bounds! And these are a few of the many things I love about you. Love, Evan. 38 The Birthday Journal
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Mummy In the heart of our family is our wonderful mom, who effortlessly carries happiness every day—a contagious energy that brightens our lives. Mom’s joy is most evident when she’s with family, but in quieter moments, a touch of sadness emerges when she thinks about her dad. An outgoing soul with a smile that lights up any room, Mom’s positive energy remains constant despite life’s challenges. A treasured memory is Mom taking time from her day to play video games with us as kindergartners. Her laughter filled the room, creating magical moments and forging a bond beyond screens and buttons. Watching TV before bed with her has always been one of our favorite activities – a prime time for us to chat about whatever we’re watching and discuss our day. Mom is outgoing and sociable, always leaping to make her days more interesting. Facing an unexpected battle with breast cancer,Mombecame a truewarrior, inspiring many with her determination. Her triumph over breast cancer, a victory not just for her but for the family, showcases her strength. As a testament to her love for her adopted home, Mom proudly achieved full citizenship in America. In every aspect, Mom, Nana, embodies the extraordinary—an endless source of inspiration brightening our days. Although she graduated from an American college after navigating unfamiliar modern tools, she continues to provide for us tirelessly. Her neverending motivation inspires us tokeepmoving forward, taking the positives with us and handling the negatives. Despite past tensions at home, resolving those issues changed the way our parents approach my brothers and me. Witnessing my younger brother’s success at a young age is something they couldn’t have imagined, and whenever he takes on a task, they ensure he excels. On her birthday, we want to express our appreciation for Mom. She does whatever she can to ensure our safety, but at the same time, she doesn’t coddle us, teaching us the importance of independence while reminding us there are people we can fall back on if needed. Happy Birthday, Mom – your love and guidance shape our lives in themost beautiful ways. Audi, Siege and DJ Kendall 41 The Birthday Journal
Khadijah Turner Your infectious smile and warm personality lights up every room. It was evident in the way you tirelessly went above and beyond for the kids, making our collaborative efforts on the PTA truly special. As you gracefully enter this golden chapter of life, my heartfelt wish for you, dear friend, is a tapestry of good health, unwavering prosperity, and a perpetual embrace of love. May the coming years be a canvas painted with joy, success, and the fulfillment of all your dreams. Cheers to 50 remarkable years and to the many more adventures that await you on this incredible journey! Nana Yaa Brefo-Boateng On this momentous occasion of your 50th birthday, I can’t help but reflect on the incredible person you are. Your kindness, sweetness, and love have left an indelible mark on those fortunate enough to know you. Your constant check-ins have been a source of comfort, a testament to the beautiful soul you possess. As you celebrate this milestone, my earnest wish for you, Nana Ama, is a life adorned with enduring kindness, boundless prosperity, and a tranquility that surpasses all understanding. May each day bring you joy, and may the years ahead unfold like a tapestry of serenity and success. Juliette Mills Lutterodt Nana Ama, As we celebrate your 50 amazing years, I am fortunate to be able to reflect on the immense heart you bring to every moment. From our meeting at a party in Jersey to your immediate involvement in Pink for Africa, your welcoming smile and dedication have left an indelible mark. Your generosity in pouring your heart into various causes is truly admirable. Here’s to more moments of making a positive impact and raising funds for the greater good. May your life continue to be filled with great health, boundless love, and everlasting happiness. Happy 50th! Lorraine Ocran-Amissah Wishing a radiant soul a truly joyous 50th birthday! Your pleasant demeanor and warm, happy personality have brightened every moment we’ve shared, especially during our memorable Independence Day celebrations. May this milestone be a celebration of good health and strength for you. May God’s blessings touch every aspect of your life, guiding your path with love and prosperity. Here’s to many more moments of happiness and shared laughter! Happy 50th Nana Happy 50th Birthday Nana! You’re the heartbeat of our family, weaving joy and love into the fabric of our lives. Your journey to 50 is a collection of memories, challenges, and triumphs. Here’s to more laughter, adventures, and shared moments. Cheers to you, the heart and soul of our nuclear crew! Much love, Mum, Akwasi and Paa 42 The Birthday Journal
Grace B. Bold, with a mind as pristine as your spirit, you’ve embraced us all as sisters and brothers. I will always cherish the memories from our high school days in Ghana, where your leadership always shone bright. On this golden milestone of your 50th birthday, I wish you continued boldness, a mind forever untarnished, and the unwavering love you’ve showered upon us. May your health be excellent, paving the way for decades more of your inspiring presence. Cheers to the leader, the sister, the friend Maureen Odunsi As you step into the glorious chapter of 50, I want to reaffirmmy admiration for the remarkable person you are. Your boundless friendliness, non-judgmental spirit, and genuine love for God set you apart. Your positivity, coupled with a sincere desire for the progress of others, paints a beautiful picture of your character. Your forgiving nature and love-filled heart make you not only a delight to be around but an inspiration to us all. May this celebration be a reflection of the joy you’ve brought into the lives of your wonderful sons. Here’s to your continued health, success in all endeavors, and the limitless love that surrounds you. Cheers to you, Nana Ama, a true gem in our lives! Hailey E Wishing a fantastic 50th birthday to a woman who always brings a smile to my face. Our shared laughs in math class at RCBC created bonds that time won’t break. May your generosity, which has brightened my days, continue to overflow. I hope your journey through college is filled with happiness and success. Stay happy, stay healthy, and may you be blessed with everything you truly deserve. Sending you loads of joy on your special day! Yaw Asafo Agyei Happy Birthday Akosah! Reflecting on our unique bond, your ability to comfort me, coupled with cherished memories, has truly made our friendship special. One standout moment that defines our connection is when I first met you in Kumasi around Baboobazar. Initially searching for a present for Caleb, your approach caught my attention, leading to a conversation that unveiled the proximity of our residences. From that point, our friendship blossomed. Recalling the amusing memory of you playfully declaring pregnancy after staying over at my room following a campus jam brings laughter and warmth to my heart. It seems immaculate conceptions aren’t reserved for the Virgin Mary alone; Nana, you’ve added your unique twist to the narrative. Wishing you a birthday filled with joy, laughter, and divine health! Audrick Fosu Happy 50th Birthday to a person who revels in life’s little pleasures! Our shared pastime of traveling together has created countless delightful memories as we explored different parts of the US. As you embark on the journey ahead, my sincerest wish is for it to be adorned with increasing peace and happiness. May abundant riches grace your family, and may each moment be as enriching as the destinations we’ve discovered together. Here’s to celebrating your happiness and to the prosperity that awaits your loved ones! 43 The Birthday Journal
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