High School days “Don’t worry, you will be fine,” Papa said as we approached the secondary school where I had been assigned. There it was on the horizon: its prominent green and yellow signboard displaying the words MAWULI SECONDARY SCHOOL. Papa’s voice was reassuring, yet I couldn’t shake off some unease. Would he just leave me with these strangers and return to Accra, leaving me all alone here? How would I manage? My concerns were unnecessary; Mawuli School had a heartwarming tradition of seniors awaiting newcomers to welcome them. They were so tall, almost resembling our parents. They guided us to the dormitory, helped us settle in, and unpacked our belongings. It brought some comfort; at least I felt secure in this new environment. Nonetheless, it didn’t prevent tears from flowing when my father departed. The first few days were tough; adhering to set wake-up times, completing tasks promptly, heading to the dining hall – all these routines were unfamiliar. However, I swiftly adapted. Then came the issue of those towering grasses we had to clear – the ‘stubborn grasses,’ as we eventually labelled them. They seemed to gaze right at us, almost as if they had been deliberately grown, ready to challenge us as soon as we entered school. Perhaps my familiarity with the spoken language of the Volta people, being Ewe myself, helped ease my transition a bit. Mawuli School turned out to be so much fun, and I did not hesitate to join the many societies and groups they had. Firstly, because I had a thing for societies and groups, secondly, because if one was part of a society, they were spared the pains of doing groundwork. So, I joined the Ghana United Nations Students and Youth Association (GUNSA), the school choir, and then the drama group.Myweekends “ Mawuli School turned out to be so much fun, and I did not hesitate to join the many societies and groups they had. 15 The Birthday Journal
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