presence reminded me that respectful, brotherly relationships with the opposite sex were not only possible but necessary. They served as sounding boards, guides, and a kind of emotional safety net in the often complex social ecosystem of school life. Amid all these adventures and learning moments, family remained my anchor. Our family holiday trips to my hometown, Hohoe, with my father were not just excursions—they were silent initiations into my roots. I remember vividly how those trips sparked a deep appreciation for where I came from. They stirred within me a sense of duty to family, community, and culture. It was during one of these visits that I began to form a deep, spiritual bond with my paternal grandmother. Her wisdom, gentle smile, and firm beliefs left a permanent mark on my heart. She gave me a language for resilience, a posture for prayer, and a spirit of humility that has followed me through every stage of my life. And let’s not forget the humble joys of responsibility. My father, in his quiet confidence, entrusted me with marketing and cooking during my teenage years. I didn’t see it as a burden. It was an honour. The excitement of going to the market, selecting ingredients, and coming home to cook for him was one of my first real experiences of service and love through action. I recall one of those moments when I decided to prepare salad for my dad and ended up cooking the lettuce. I tasted it afterwards and it was bitter in the mouth. My dad laughed and told me it was not meant to be cooked, based on what he had been served with at other places. We both laughed it off, but that was a very good lesson learnt. It taught me to be dependable, resourceful, and, most of all, that the smallest acts of care often carry the deepest meanings. As I reflect on this chapter of my life from the vantage point of 50 years, I see a mosaic made up of laughter in dormitories, secrets whispered under bunk beds, walks with friends, handwritten letters passed in class, early crushes, deep losses, and unforgettable joys. These were the years that sculpted my identity. They may not have been documented on camera or journalled every day, but they are etched in my soul. This was the season where my roots went deep—into friendship, family, responsibility, and a deepening sense of purpose. It’s where I learned not only who I was, but also who I was becoming. And for that, I remain forever grateful. 14 The Birthday Journal
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