The warm afternoon sun filters through the windows of our family home in Tema. As I sit in the center of the living room, surrounded by my siblings, I can’t help but feel grateful for the strong connection between us. The room buzzes with laughter and nostalgia as we gather for dinner, and I feel a sense of accomplishment for managing to bring everyone back home. Tonight, the focus is on me as my siblings reminisce about my childhood and our shared memories, from our days in Sunyani to life in Tema and beyond. Bro Yaw starts with a smile, “Do you all remember the time I managed to get Da to give me that 14inch TV? I think Monica had a bit to do with that. She convinced him that I really needed it for my well-being. Her persuasive skills were definitely at work!” Anita giggles, adding, “Oh, I remember that too! But speaking of Monica’s influence, how about the time she stood up for me in primary school? There was this boy who tried to bully me, and Monica— our little warrior—took him down. I don’t think I could’ve survived school without her.” Kwaw chuckles, recalling, “And let’s not forget her storytelling. Monica used to write stories that I loved reading. I would eagerly wait for her to continue the story so I could read more. She had a knack for weaving tales that made them come alive. Books were a constant in our lives, thanks to our father, who introduced us to the magical world of stories from a young age. Da would return from trips with books, and our home in Labone was conveniently close to Omari Bookshop, a treasure trove where we spent countless hours exploring new worlds. And we can’t forget the countless table tennis games we had. Monica was always a fierce competitor!” Kojo, smiling fondly, chimes in, “That’s true. Monica was always a competitor and very much into sports. I still remember her athletic achievements and how she carried them with such pride. It was a big part of her growing up, and she was always pushing herself to be the best.” The conversation turns mischievous as Kojo grins, “And let’s not overlook the mischievous side of Monica. Like that time she broke curfew and came home through the window.” Anita laughs, “I remember that! And how about the time she would sneak into Da’s special chair? She never seemed to worry about getting caught. And don’t get me started on how she’d help herself to Da’s drinks—so bold! Or when she ate Da’s biscuits and tried to act all innocent. She was fearless, and it made for some great memories.” Kwaw shakes his head, “Hmmm… I don’t think it was her who came through the window, though. That was our cousin, Stingo.” Everyone recalls the day the boys played a trick on our late dad, and the memory brings a mix of joy and sadness, missing him but cherishing the fun times. I chime in, eager to shift the focus, “I remember that morning, as Da prepared for his 5 a.m. jog, he Echoes of Laughter Through Memories 8 The Birthday Journal
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