A Feminist Insurgent with a Revolutionary Cause

The Stories of a Defiant Soul: A Feminist Insurgent with a Revolutionary Cause Without a Pause

The inadequacy of the Ghanaian state is manifested in the effectuality of our government to invest in the receding intellectual culture in our nation’s schools. What went wrong with our nation’s once proud education? How can we revive the burning spirit that once drove Kofi Agbelekpui and his bother, Emma, to trek miles through the mountainous jungles of Dzogekofe to come to school every morning? What explains the strength of mind that brought my dearest Atsrim Tutuvi to school to share her teasing stories? While hunger stared us in our face, like a ghost that never goes away, we were happy kids, and enjoyed the school atmosphere with pride.

Our morning school parade, and moral lectures from our school master, the great Mr. Afedo, continues to reverberate in my soul. I hope the affliction of life has not left its wrinkly marks on his fragile frame, or perhaps carried him to his shallow grave on the road to Dodome. With a smile, he always told his high-spirited students that adversity was not an excuse to drop out of school. He encouraged us to cultivate fortitude, and endure the piercing spasms of life, if we wanted to be part of tomorrow’s leadership. To this day, I owe part of my modest successes to a man who steered his students away from the many crevices that laid in wait for us.

He lectured us to be soldiers; a weaponless army who use their brains to defeat their most formidable opponents in the battle of wits. While I am not a leader by any shred of the word, I am elated to be part of a nostalgic past that continues to stimulate my determination to inspire many who have chosen to trudge ahead, even as the struggle becomes tiring, and they wish they had not being part of the fight.

With nothing, some of us have built something. I remember a time in my life, when I have to “punk off” on friends’ books, which I couldn’t afford, to rewrite hundreds of pages in an exercise book. I remember a time in my life, when I was forced to memorize Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales because my mother did not have the resources to buy a book, which ironically could not be found in Ghana in the early 1980s. I vividly recall a stage in my college years when I have to scribble notes in my palm because I did not have exercise books, and needed a written space to chronicle my crazy thoughts as I continue to do till this day.

Many here do not know my struggles. In my life, poverty was a virtue. Hunger was part of my being. Modesty, respect, and hard work were ritualistically taught by a mother whose eyes always exuded love and encouraged her child to compete and be the best among the worst. The values of hard work and respect that I was taught, at home, attracted me to many families, some of whom fed me for free when life was rough like an Afghan desert shod. To these people, some of whom I may never see again, I am extremely grateful.

Knowledge is armour with which I guard my soul. While I can become vulnerable to the sharp stabbings of intellectual darts, my rottweiler personality does not cringe under hailing storms. To the contrary, I always fight to earn the respect I deserve from my adversaries. Allow me to use this poetic piece to energize the spirit of our nation’s students who are currently facing difficult times in their lives as I did myself when growing up. To them I say, never give up. Life, while burdensome, teaches us the discipline to be the best and display our zest like an African crest.

Freedom is not a gift from man to humankind. It is an innate force that triggers the brain to challenge, and change, institutional tyrannies that mitigate against humankind’s determination to be free. I have fought mental battles and won, and I will continue to do so as long as my health allows me. I have traversed the icy halls of racist academe, and used my mind to earn the dignity I deserve as a person of colour. Many are those who question the capabilities to the underdog. Don’t puppies grow with time if they are fed the nourishments they need to grown in size? There are many of those who will not understand my stance because they view the world from a prism that is downsized

To my nation’s children, never give up the fight to free your minds, and be free. Be part of a cause to liberate our nation from the tyranny of elitist domination. Never stumble, and fall flat on your belly to be stampeded by those who seek your destruction. Rise on your wobbly feet, again, and cross the finishing line to bring home the medal of honour your nation so deserves. Sometimes, to be the last is a worthy experience that opens our eyes to the many hidden treasures of the world we so despise. Let’s always remember that transformative education is key to our nation’s long-term survival and development. I speak of freedom, and may freedom and justice forever be your guide. Hope all is well. Good day and cheers.