At the Jewish Hospital in Brooklyn, New York, on October 11th, 1973, I made my grand entrance into the world, loudly announcing my arrival as if someone had swiped my millions. My dad, Augustus Osei-Tutu (nowNana DarkoMpra II and Senior Linguist to Otumfour Osei Tutu), beamed How It All Started with pride as he proclaimed, “That is a healthy boy!” My mother, Agatha Osei-Tutu, cradled her bouncing baby boy, the third of her sons. When I was three years old, we returned to Ghana, and my earliest memories are fromAsokwa, where we settled. My childhood was a joy, surrounded by uncles, aunties, and cousins from both my father’s and mother’s sides who would visit and never seem to leave. My parents embraced this communal lifestyle, and our house was always filled with activity. There were many times when people dropped by just as food was being served, and we gladly shared our meals with them. Our paternal grandmother lived with us, a lively old woman who, at the impressive age of 84, remained healthy and alert. Our neighbors would sometimes try to evade her when they saw her standing in front of our house because she had an uncanny ability to engage in 7 The Birthday Journal
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