Tribute to My Grandpa

How cool is it to know someone great and famous. Someone whose deed steered a whole country in one direction.  Someone who will forever be in history books. Someone who students are graded on.

I am one in a million. I knew someone great and famous. I had his blood flowing through veins. I had the opportunity to sit beside him and watch the evening news. i even had the opportunity to hide from him so he wouldn’t make me draw.

Yes my Grandpa, Amon Kotei was great and famous.

I remember in fifth grade when my class had to learn about the Ghanaian Coat of Arms. Of cause, I had all the information, and it was from the horses own mouth. When we had to draw it, I was still the best, because I had drawn it over 20 times.

I remember my grandpa painting on the second floor porch while doubling as the security man. He would watch everyone who came into the compound and question their reason for coming to the house. If you had nothing important to do he would ask you to come upstairs to paint, sing or play the piano. Every grandchild at point in their life, held a paint brush, played the piano or sign on of his songs. There is also the trademark that everyone who knew him well probably got; the oil paint stains in that favorite pant or on that beautiful shirt. I had it on my denim pant.

Grandpa was a strong believer in education. He always encouraged us to study hard in school and be college graduates at least once. He had a wall in the living room where he put pictures of all his children and grandchildren. He also framed and hung that graduation picture of you in your gown holding your certificate. That wall is encouragement for me to graduate next year. Even though grandpa has passed on, I would hang my picture on that wall.

I remember the history sessions we had. Grandpa would sit me down and talk for hours unending about family history. I don’t regret making excuses to leave when I was tired but I miss the fact that I would never have the opportunity to sit with him again.

I don’t regret not taking up art and improving my talent to the fullest but I miss not having the opportunity to sit beside him and paint my interpretation of the sun over the hills.

The next time I go back to Ghana, he wont be standing on the porch. I wont have to tip toe to avoid listening to his long stories. 

I lost Grandpa, Ghana lost a patriotic citizen, and the world lost a hero.

Rest In Peace. Yaa w) ojogbaa. Due Due Due……