From GSTS, Master Cudjoe was transferred to Fijai Secondary School. On the Fijai campus, Alberta’s presence as Master Cudjoe’s wife was felt even before she spoke. The students had given her the nickname “Alibi.” One voice would call it out, and instantly, a chorus of “Ali-bi! Ali-bi!” would echo across the compound. At first, Alberta frowned at the name. “I don’t like that name,” she told them firmly. But the students never stopped. Over time, the name stuck, becoming part of her identity—half in jest, half in admiration. Alberta was a formidable woman. She had no patience for delay; the moment she said, “Go and bring this,” it was expected immediately. She spoke in parables, a habit inherited from her Cape Coast upbringing, where proverbs and indirect speech were part of everyday wisdom. It could be frustrating for those trying to keep up, but it revealed her wit, heritage, and sharp mind. The home she ran was famously strict—so much so that family members joked it was “Alibi’s Regimental School.” Troublesome nephews, nieces, and cousins were often “sent to Takoradi” for discipline, knowing Alberta would set them straight. Yet behind the discipline was a deeply compassionate and generous woman who loved children as though they were her own. She never showed favouritism, treating all children— whether hers or others’— with the same care. Alibi also had a way of winning students’ trust. Some jokingly called her a “Russian spy” or “CIA agent” because she always seemed to know what was happening on campus. But she didn’t gather information through fear—she built rapport. Students came to her, sometimes lured by cakes or treats, sometimes simply because they felt safe around her. She became their confidante, quietly passing along warnings to her husband, the headmaster, before trouble could erupt. Her bungalow was a real home. Students stranded during the holidays stayed with her. Children of former headmasters, like the sons of Charles Quaye, lived under her care. Teachers’ children, cousins, and friends of students all passed through her doors. They found in her both a strict disciplinarian and a second mother. Years later, many would return to embrace her, calling her “Sweet Mum”, sending gifts, or simply remembering her warmth. When Master Cudjoe was transferred back to GSTS as the headmaster in 1973, Alberta carried the same balance of firmness and compassion to her new community. Once again, she became the quiet anchor of the school—a disciplinarian who maintained order and a generous hand to all her husband’s students. In the end, “Alibi” is more than a teasing nickname. It became a badge of honour, a reminder that she could be both feared and loved, tough and tender. Her legacy is one of discipline tempered with kindness, of homes turned into havens, and of countless young lives quietly shaped by the headmaster’s wife, who was far more than a wife—she was a force. A l i b i The Headmaster’s Wife 18 The Birthday Journal
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