a education at theUniversity Primary School. I remember in primary school, I used to ward off both boys and girls who dared to bullymy siblings, Juliette and Charlotte (Adubea). FromtheUniversity of Cape Coast, we moved to the University of Ghana. Ours was a delightful childhood, and I still have fond memories of my parents taking us to the Elmina Motel in my father’s impeccably clean black Opel, with him teaching us a song he had created titled “You will be a pussycat yourself one day.” I also have fond memories of him trying to bribe me with boiled corn whenever I was sad and down from being scolded. In those days, Dad would take us to the Balme Library at the University of Ghana to borrow books. The idea was to summarise our respective books at the end of the week. Instead of reading, I would create a tent around my bunk bed, grab fistfuls of Milo, and chew on them, all the while pretending to be reading like my siblings, who could finish a book of 100 pages in a day. Of course, I was found wanting at the end of each week when it was time to do our summaries. Growing up, I really admired my father. Orphaned at the age of six, he had self-tutored himself through school, gaining admission to Oxford University to pursue a master’s and later a doctorate as a Psychologist. His ability to teach himself Latin, play the organ, and bring up a family of excellence was admirable. Secondary school for me was at the prestigious HolyChildSchool inCapeCoast.Likemanyyoung people, I breezed through secondary school, but academia was not my thing. I wanted to be a model, an actress, or a flight attendant because of the glamour associated with these professions. I was so preoccupied with my glamorous careers that I fantasised about strutting down the aisles of Ghana Airways planes in uniform! 11
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