Secondary School Memories Sitting on the bed in Clark House in Achimota School, I suddenly felt overwhelmingly lonely. It seemed most of us first-formers shared that sentiment as our parents bid us farewell. Hardly had they left when senior girls started coming around, assigning chores, and singling me out. “You, yes you,” one of the seniors pointed at me, “fetch six buckets of water from the swimming pool every morning.” The laughter of other seniors filled the air. Being the biggest form one student and well-behaved, I became an easy target for bullies. True to her word, I fetched six buckets each morning, while other first-formers managed only two. The seniors viewed me as a Goliath among the first-formers. The initial joy of admission to Achimota School turned into a sobering reality. After all, it was by far one of the best schools in the country, and I had felt such pride to be attending it. Perhaps I was too optimistic in my expectations because the seniors turned out to be such terrible bullies, resulting in some of them getting suspended during the middle of the term, on which days I jubilated quietly in my head. Life improved after form one. Now a bit of a senior, we had form one students coming in, and seniors’ attention shifted to them, sparing us. Finally, as form five seniors, we enjoyed the privilege of having our hair done and more. Life became good, and I cherished every moment. At Achimota School, I excelled as an athlete, participating in field events like discus, javelin, and shot put. Shot put became my forte, earning me a thirdplace finish in one of the inter-school college events. Unfortunately, my dad insisted I stop being an athlete after lower six, emphasizing the need to focus on O-levels. After my O-levels, I attended Labone Secondary School for a term but transferred to Technology Secondary School in Kumasi for the rest of lower six through upper six. I left Labone due to concerns about the high level of socializing among the girls, and the lack of a wall in the dormitory allowed unauthorized male visitors to come and go freely. Unhappy with the situation and the lackluster Arts program, I persuaded my mom to speak to the head of Tech Secondary School, where I was eventually admitted. I loved Tech Secondary School. In the end, I was chosen as their Girl’s Prefect, and life was good. I tried to instill in the students the little values I had learned fromAchimota School. University Days I was at home, fretting about my future prospects. I had been admitted to the University of Science and Technology to pursue a B.A. program in Arts and had started the course. The only problem was that the lecturers were on strike, and we had been home for such a long time that it seemed the strike would never end. Many thoughts went through my mind; when would I even graduate, much less get a job? Besides, it was so boring, spending all day at home doing nothing much from morning to night. While dressing up that morning, I decided to call mymom, whowas in theUSA at the time, telling her that I just wanted to come for a vacation. However, I had actually planned that I wasn’t going to come back. When my dad found out about my phone call to my mother, he was very annoyed with me and asked me to write the invitation letter myself, which I did inmy naivety, something that any Visa Officer would not bother to look at twice. I didn’t know that my father had written the letter himself already and sent it to the American Embassy. I only found this out after he passed. This was in 1995, that was when I left the shores of Ghana. 16 The Birthday Journal
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTAyMTM3NQ==