READ AID

On Thursday 16^th of March, 2016, students of Adabraka Cluster of Schools, witnessed the launch of a movement that will forever change their perception on leadership. A literacy project for public schools dubbed READ AID.  A team of vibrant and young men and women from Databank who have seen the impact of a reading generation decided to secure the future of our leaders. 

                Before the program started, I engaged a few of the students around me in quick portrait sessions, I asked one of them to smile and for about 20 seconds, she still stood dumb looking at me to which one of her friends shouted  ‘’Ak33 Nmorr’’ meaning He said smile. The next thing I know, she showed me a wonderful smile. My question is, well let me not ask.

                There were many of such cases, and these are schools right here in Accra, the capital city. I asked a few what they wanted to be in future, this gentleman, wants to be a policeman, I asked him why, and his response: ‘so that I can get money when I stand by the road and catch the bad peoples”. GH POLICE. Ayekoo.

                A few girls were busily playing ampe. A game that involves jumping, clapping, throwing legs, shouting and shooting your opponent.

                These young men were late for class after the bell had rung, one walked with swag whiles the other ducked to avoid being caught by their class teacher.

                Anyway, back to our main subject for today, Databank saw a need and have decided to be a solution. Is there any better way that leadership can be defined? Proud of you guys and what you are doing. I wouldn’t bother going into data analysis of what percentage can read and can’t, some teachers were not so happy about it but the most important thing is that change has come.

 This is what Read Aid is all about; volunteers and some staff from Databank will help children to read using well-structured reading programs according to their reading levels. Enjoy the following pictures and I am very sure it will speak to you more than my words can. The joy on their faces, it’s as though they have been waiting all this while for moments like these. Truly, if we cant get them reading, we might as well forget about having a future. God bless Databank.

                 

Slaved Salt, Slaved Light.

The story of slavery is quiet an interesting one, one that will never be forgotten by both the receivers and the givers. It tells the tales of men in chains, women in pain and children who could not freely dance or play in the rain.

Many were sold for things, and by things I mean objects of lesser value than human life. Some were even sold in exchange of SALT. The very salt of the earth was exchanged for salt.

They were kept in darkness, rooms with minimum LIGHT, The lights of the world were kept in darkness.

 

 Today, there is a higher form of slavery taking place, its the slavery of the mind, the inability to accept who we are and what we are capable of, the slavery of living mediocre lives, we exchange are dreams and purposes for money and make this world a tasteless place because we have failed to realize we are the salt of the earth. What happened to the preservation that salt brings, the taste it adds or how it stops the growth of bacteria in this case mediocrity, vices, corruption, the very cankers that are eating up the systems.

Today, the light of the world dwell in darkness, not ready to enlighten itself, what happened to the light making visions clearer, what happened to the light making it possible to navigate in darkness. Think about ships without the lighthouse, think about the havoc and wreck we have caused because of our inability to shine as we have been made to do.

The few slaves who made it to the masters chambers felt different, the felt they were no more slaves, they failed to understand that as long as a part of you is in slavery, you are still a slave, they failed to understand the power of unity, they failed to understand what it meant to function as a body.

A little taste of what the master takes and soon they forget, they forget their roots, truly we perish because we lack knowledge. There is a boat out there waiting, its passengers are the slaves of today, those who have rejected knowledge, those who only exist because the have weight and occupy space. You don't want to know the destination of this boat.

 Its true you matter but don't just be 'matter' from the laboratory's definition. Matter because your salt can be tasted and your light shines. You are not a slave anymore.

Stored Years. (STORY)

When you get to the top, your struggles seem insignificant. At the top it all looks beautiful. Many don't even realise you've had sleepless nights. From the top, life is a fairytale. From the top its easier to smile, for the real scars are hidden beneath the clouds. From the top its all a masterpiece. Many want to be at the top, ofcourse who doesn't like that which is beautiful? But only the few who go through the bottom actually find their way to the top. At the bottom, that's where it all starts. At the bottom is where we all ought to learn. At the bottom, that's where we get our scars, the very marks that makes us stars. At the bottom, thats where we die, friends leave, families reject us and the elements never spare us. At the bottom, that's where life schools us,not the confines of a well structured classroom.  At the bottom that's where we meet and build, for no man starts building from the top. At the bottom we sacrifice our lives to visions bigger than us. At the bottom, thats where we earn our stories. The stored years of our short lives here on earth.

I Was Here Some.

The clock of Life wound but once,

And no man has the power to tell

Just when the hands will stop

 At last or early hour

To lose ones wealth is sad indeed

To loose ones health is more

To loose ones soul is such a loss

As no man can restore.

The present is our own

Live, Love, Toil with a will

Place no faith in tomorrow

For the clock may then be still. 

J.Annan

After all is said and done, what will you have lived here on earth for?

Foot Steps.

   I met this beautiful girl in Kumasi during a business trip. She smiled immediately I pointed my camera at her to which I engaged her in a conversation. She wants to be a doctor in the near future and hence she spends some part of her day after school selling drinking water to support her education. I didn't make any inquiries as to her age but I am sure she could be between 12 and 15.
   At such an age, she has thought of a means to support her education, she has a dream and she is willing to fulfill it. Now my question to you is, do you have a dream yet, and if you do what are you doing towards realizing that dream?

Stop Work, Produce Permit.

       It’s not  quiet uncommon to come across the bold red STOP WORK, PRODUCE PERMIT inscriptions on most construction sites in the country.  It’s a bit sad to see constructions halted for lack of necessary documentations and permits. The time wasted, money involved and level of commitment that has been attached to the building process are some of the reasons that makes it painful. Acquiring genuine permits takes long, so most people often skip the process but end up having to totally abandon their projects or pay huge sums of money to later facilitate those same projects.

     This isn’t far-fetched from what life brings our way sometimes. We often find ourselves in situations that make us want to give up, it could be that work you’ve been doing for so long that seem to produce little or no results, or perhaps that problem which seems to never have a solution, it’s just life’s way of saying STOP WORK, PRODUCE PERMIT.  We all have one challenge or the other which we will go through at a point in our life. Do we just STOP WORK and allow that which we have started to go down the drain? No, it’s rather the time to arise and remind LIFE of the PERMIT by which we are commissioned to operate. 

      The PERMIT called FAITH, that confidence and trust we have in God based on what He has promised us in His word, That PERMIT called HOPE, the knowledge that, that which we want can be had or events will turn out for the best, that PERMIT called Love, the indescribable passion that lies deep within us. 

    These are the permits by which we operate, so therefore, the next time LIFE tells you to STOP WORK, smile and just PRODUCE YOUR PERMIT and just go on with your construction. Let nothing stop you.

What do you have in your hands?

   It was during one of my national service days in a village called Atwima Mponua in the Ashanti Region, Ghana. I chanced upon this little girl with another group of kids happily playing in what seemed to be the ruins of a Zoom Lion garage. Tricycles for dumping refuse, as well as other refuse containers locally called BORLA CONTAINER was their playground. To them, it was their circus as they made sure they consumed every bit of fun it could offer them. Amidst all the health hazards and dangers it posed to them, they seem to only care about one thing, fun. They needed to have fun and at that very moment that was the only way they could enjoy themselves. They were using what they had to get what they wanted.

So my question, what do you have in your hands? We seek to reach the top in whatever it is that we are doing, that’s if you are really serious about it. Whatever it is, take some time off, sit down; analyze your strengths and your weaknesses. Know what you have, it may be little but work with it, gradually it will grow and it will get you exactly where you want to be. Why make the clouds your limit when for others, its but a stepping stone? What do you have in your hands?