Our Brother, Our Blessing - Chef And then there’s the food — oh, the food. Growing up in a Ga household in Kumasi cooking was part of our DNA, and you’ve lived out the family creed: anything you learn to do, you do it well. From late-night kelewele runs to that famous chicken soup with a name no one can remember, your cooking has been its own kind of love language. Whether whipping up something to comfort us or to celebrate, you’ve always known how to bring people together around a meal, creating memories as rich as the flavors on our plates. Naa Densua, closest in age, comes through with the real ones. I don’t really have any childhood memories of Nii Anku because of our age difference. I follow him directly as the sixth and seventh born of the family. But growing up, there are a few memories I found I have and hold on to dearly. One that still makes me laugh is how any time you came home to the compound in Osu, the whole place would go wild. “Nii Anku! Nii Anku! Ooooh welcome!” Everybody would be shouting your name and cheering like a superstar had arrived, even though we all knew you hated it. And that’s exactly why they did it. The more annoyed you got, the louder they cheered. It was our way of showing love, even if it didn’t always come in a quiet package. Another memory that sticks with me is from school. When the seniors couldn’t answer a question, the teacher would call me — small Naa — and another boy to come and try. And if we got it right, we were allowed to go around knocking the heads of the ones who got it wrong. Not everyone, only the ones who couldn’t answer. But after school, those students would be angry and looking for me to “teach me a lesson.” And every single time, you would beg on my behalf and make sure they left me alone. You always looked out for me, even back then. When you were in London and I was in Belgium, we tried to visit each other as much as we could. I remember when I was pregnant with Neil, you and Neils came to visit me and we, along with my friend Frida, went to a disco in Antwerp while I was heavily pregnant. When we started having kids, we always made sure that our children had a very close relationship, and that strong bond has still remained between them to this day. When I went through my divorce and everything felt heavy, you stepped up in a way I’ll never forget. You didn’t just support me — you showed up for my kids too. You became a father figure for them and someone I could always turn to. And honestly, I’ve never really said thank you the way I should have. So let me say it now: Thank you, Nii Anku. For being there. For showing up. For carrying that role so quietly but with so much strength. I love you for that, and I’ll always be grateful. I love the bond my children have with you. The way they always want to consult you and seek your advice when it’s time for them to make pivotal decisions. Their first comment is always, “Let’s go and ask Uncle Nii Anku,” and I can always count on you to give them great advice. You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader. You believe in me so much — maybe even more than I believe in myself. The only time we ever fight is when I cook for you, because I know what’s coming next: “You’re wasting your talent, Naa. Open that restaurant.” I can already hear it in your voice, even before you take the first bite. And to be honest, sometimes I avoid cooking for you just so I won’t hear it! But I know it’s coming from a good place. Even till today, you always push me to do more, to believe in myself, to use my gift. And I thank you for that too. As for the restaurant, don’t worry, I will come and open one soon. Oh, and of course, you’re still the family prankster. You’ll say something completely serious and we’ll all sit there trying to figure out if it’s real or if you’re playing. With you, we’ve learned to take everything with a pinch of salt. One last thing — I want to say how much I’ve seen you grow since you got married. You’re softer, happier, more peaceful. Your wife has brought so much goodness into your life, and I thank God for her. She’s been a blessing to you and to all of us. So from your little sister — the one who was too small to really grow up with you but who has always felt your presence — Happy Birthday, Nii Anku. I love you. We all love you. And we thank God for your life. Tori Naa Densua Fleischer Djoleto 34 The Birthday Journal C H E F
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTAyMTM3NQ==