martin: You know, thinking back, growing up with Michael was something else. I felt like we were two brothers on one journey. We did a lot together—same schools, same routines, same crowd. We grew up just two years apart, close enough to fight like cats but stick together like brothers should. Same primary school, same high school, same mischief level—just expressed differently. Sometimes partners, sometimes rivals. But always brothers. gene: (laughs) Oh, definitely. You older brothers always stuck together! Remember the car rides with Dad? He would take the whole family out—inside and outside Accra, to restaurants, sightseeing… everywhere. Michael never wanted me sitting next to him though—not if we’d just fought, which was basically every other day! martin: (grinning) True. Thank goodness I was around to settle our disputes, otherwise those arguments would’ve gone on forever. gene: (laughing) Exactly! Between ages four (me) and eight (Michael), boredommeant teasing each other relentlessly. And Michael… oh, he liked crying. Anytime he cried, Mum and Dad pampered him, and he got used to it fast. I remember one day he cried so much Dad had to take him for a solo ride. When he came back, he was so excited—you’d think he’d been on an adventure. Sometimes Dad even carried him just to stop him from crying! wilma: (smiling) I wasn’t born yet, but that actually sounds like him—quiet, but very particular. Even when he was small, he knew exactly what he wanted. gene: Exactly. If we weren’t fighting, Michael was usually quiet—only speaking when necessary. martin: And let’s not forget the Taekwondo days. Training like future martial arts champions—kicking pads, breaking boards, thinking we were on our way to Black Belt greatness. Those sessions taught us resilience, confidence… and a little swagger too. wilma: (giggles) You two were so serious about it! I remember peeking at your classes and thinking, “They’re going to break something!” martin: (laughing) And then there were the LEGO days. Michael was sharp, quick-witted, but before the world saw the professional, we saw the chaos engineer inside him. Legos weren’t just toys—they were architectural dreams, city planning, engineering creativity. And if Michael wasn’t allowed to join the construction committee… gene: (interrupting) He would wipe the whole project off the table! No hesitation. Full sweep. Boom— urban renewal. Classic “young Michael justice.” wilma martin gene The Birthday Journal 14
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