Let me begin by congratulating the Ghana Association of Writers (GAW) on this special occasion of the GAW Book festival, where we celebrate the arts, and bring together the entire value chain of stakeholders young and old, representing virtually all departments of life that commit themselves to the written word and its dissemination.

I am also delighted that the occasion has been organised within the context of artistic performances, storytelling, music, exhibitions, literary readings and the like. Directly or indirectly GAW is drawing attention to the inter-connections among writing, literary works, oral traditions, and other manifestations of the arts. It is indeed a way of acknowledging the interplay of the various literary arts, and the organic links between the pen and the word of mouth.

More significantly, the subject of reading, which we celebrate today and annually, is fundamentally a cognitive process, but could also be an oral activity, if it is loudly done or expressed. Whether we read by mouthing, whispering, or expressing it in silence, the fact remains that there is often a still small voice in us, to which we cognitively respond while we read. This indicates that celebrating the literary arts in various manifestations, is the right thing to do.

An added significance to this occasion is the nationalistic turn it takes as our Founder’s Day, the 106th birthday of Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah. It is significant also because of our Founder’s dedication not only to the arts, but also to developmental imperatives of reading and writing.

Part of the vision of that great African was to ensure that every child in Ghana could read and write, through a policy of compulsory primary education, which took off in 1962, under the Accelerated Development Plan for Education. On this agenda, all children were to enjoy free compulsory primary education, and ‘become citizens empowered with permanent literacy in both English and vernacular.’

But Osagyefo went further, and sought to empower non-reading and illiterate adults as well. His mass education project sought to give opportunities to adults, regardless of age, to learn to read and write.

This was a clear demonstration of Nkrumah’s perception of reading and writing, as the foundations of Ghana’s empowerment as an independent nation state: the fundamental pillars to which Ghana’s independence would be securely anchored. Of what worth is independence if the population cannot read and write?
Of course, Nkrumah was also aware of our rich oral traditions from which Ghana was emerging, and which indeed persists up to this 21st century.

Social power of sages
We have lived for years in a world of oral traditions, in a world of sages, of philosophers whose knowledge and learning do not reside in books and print, but are embedded in the spoken word. Traditional philosophers have been our fathers, uncles, and forebears in villages and towns. These are narrators of history, and guardians of the sacred word. They are griots; they tell stories, and teach philosophy by word of mouth, deriving their tremendous social power not from reading, but from the power of the spoken word.

The reality of course is that in our villages without modern day libraries, these were the repositories of knowledge and wisdom; and when an old man or old lady died, it virtually amounted to a library set in flames. If it was an unnatural death, it was even worse. The sages were our libraries, and sources of learning. So then, the people of my village best remembered Opanin Kwaku Duro, who knew the medicinal value of all trees and shrubs in the forest, but who was no more.

In his absence, we remembered he passed down the knowledge to Yaw Mensah, who also passed it on and on. And if in the process, there was a weak or missing link, and the one unto whom the specialised knowledge was passed had dropped the baton, the knowledge transmission chain snapped, and the sacred heritage dissipated in thin air.

This could happen in a situation where writing, formal learning, and physical libraries could otherwise have intervened; for books, libraries, and written documentation survive the death of a sage. Writing is indeed knowledge put to paper so others may read.

These oral philosophers would learn by reading from lips, from sound, from experience; they learned through memorisation from the spoken word, and handed down knowledge orally. But contrary to expectation, they wielded tremendous social and political power without the benefit of reading. They were empowered by learning all the same. What was needed was a reinforcement with writing and reading, which could have helped to accelerate the transmission of knowledge, and ensured its timeless perpetuation.

Unlettered celebrities
But since the dawn of independence, Ghana’s political history has been shaped partly by the literate/illiterate dichotomy (elite/ordinary man; educated/non-educated). The literacy paradigm has indeed been one factor which has significantly influenced political party formation and traditions, and become badges of political identity, leading to the perception of parties either as elite-centered or as mass movements attracting ordinary men/women and illiterates.

The CPP identified with the ordinary man in the street, and the UGCC was proud of its largely professional elite. This characterisation has held true of offshoots of these parties.

Let me briefly recall from the days of Kwame Nkrumah, the tremendous social power wielded by men and women around Kwame Nkrumah, whether lettered or unlettered: politicians ranging from PhD holders, through Standard Seven Middle School leavers, to those with low literacy profiles and stark illiterates. I need not go into the epic of powerful unlettered market women, who were the bedrock of the Party; the Krobo Eduseis, Kwame Kwakyes, etc. who, in spite of their relatively low educational status, wielded enormous social and political power.

And do we forget Ghana’s 1991/92 Consultative Assembly, which was heavily loaded by the ruling Provisional National Defence Council (PNDC) with representatives of organisations belonging to the low rung of society: fishermen’s associations, hair dressers, butchers, house of chiefs and the like, who among a good number of elites, were made responsible for drafting Ghana’s Constitution.

The Assembly included one Market woman from Kumasi, who represented the Kejetia Traders, a Standard Seven school leaver, who read little or no English, but managed to cope somehow with proceedings of the assembly. This is not to talk of a butcher from Bawku, representing the Butchers Association, who eventually became a perpetual absentee, and drew attention for the several scenes he created at the assembly.

There is also a classic case cited in USA of one John Corcoran, who graduated from College in 1961, and by 1979 had taught High School Students for 17 years, without knowing how to read. In the early 1980s, he developed over $50m in real estate business, still illiterate. In 1987, John Corcoran for the first time learned how to read, after phenomenal successes as a businessman.

His memoire entitled, The Teacher Who Could Not Read, made him an overnight celebrity, and a great advocate for those who languished in illiteracy. His second book entitled, Bridge to Literacy: No Child or Adult Left Behind is considered a powerful call to action to eliminate illiteracy in America.

But listen to the latest news just in. The legendary world boxing welterweight champion, Floyd Mayweather, who is retiring after a 49-0 record, is doing the unbelievable in retirement. He is going back to school to work towards his high school diploma. Fabulously rich as he is, he cannot read, and has decided to fulfill his lifelong dream, and the wish of her dying mother. In his own words, “I got all these millions, but can’t even read my check balance. If it wasn’t for Forbes magazine, I wouldn’t know what I got at the bank.”

The stories of Corcoran and Mayweather are not different from those of great men in several nations, who made it in life without the skills of literacy.

The writer is the President, Central University College.