The Phoenix and The Ash: A Tale of Fire and Rebirth

A phoenix depicted in a book of legendary creatures by FJ Bertuch (1747–1822)

My father had an old bicycle when I was growing up. It was called phoenix. The name did not mean much, except that, it was a bicycle I had gotten from my father as a young boy. Phoenix was reliable although it was bigger than me and required a lot of tact whiles I rode it. The prayer was, the chain must never unhinge as the bar was no friend to the groin. Well, as you can tell, I was always fond of the phoenix. Little did I know it held a much bigger lesson than just an old trusted family means of transport.

My fondness of the Phoenix took a completely new turn on 13^th February, 2002. I was 14 years old at St. James Seminary Secondary. St. James is undoubtedly the best secondary school in Ghana, let no one tell you otherwise. We attended church services twice every day and on this particular day, the morning mass was special, at least for me. Most Rev. Matthew Kwasi Gyamfi was the rector and as the ritual was at mass, he will exhort us before class. On this particular Ash Wednesday, he spoke about the Phoenix, not as a bicycle my father had but as a Greek mythical story.

Folklore as I knew it was about Kwaku the spider, but this story was different. Yes, it was a story about an animal just as the spider was, but that is as far as the similarities went. So indulge me as I tell you the story as I heard it 18 years ago, of course adjusting it for my own growth and learning. I tell it as we celebrate yet another ash Wednesday with the view that I may inspire yet another phoenix lover.

Once upon a time, a great bird lived in the high lands, a mighty bird only close in imagery to the griffin (a legendary creature with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion; the head and wings of an eagle; and sometimes an eagle's talons as its front feet). This bird was so noble that, it is the only animal Zeus blessed with a halo. The halo was its sacred gift allowing it to fly the closest to the sun. The phoenix had grown as a great life in the sky, enjoying the beautiful heavenly view of the world. The bird lived in the sky, high above any other animal but its journey began some 500 years ago when it was born on the high desert mountains.

It is the eve of its 500^th birthday, the nations had grown to witness the sight of the mysterious bird gliding through the skies in nobility, but on this particular day, its groaning could be heard, loud wailing, and thunderous quacks that sent shivers across the spines. What in the name of heavens was happening to our dear phoenix? As it turned out, it was its last flight, it must return to the high mountains in the desert where it all began.

At the break of midnight, the great legendary bird, returns to the heap of twigs and wood it had gathered and striking its beak against the stone, sets the heavy heap on fire. The glorious bird flies gently and sits on top of the burning rubble. The phoenix burns itself all through the night into ashes. It will appear all the glory of the bird had ended; its end had come in pain.

The more obvious perspective was the death of the phoenix, but the story of the phoenix is not one of an end but a beginning, the beginning of yet another 500 years of a glorious hallowed bird. At the first light of the new day, just when the dawn breaks, the story of pain takes a different turn. It becomes a story of rising out of the ashes after harnessing the pain as energy for rebirth. The sun of the new day comes and with it, a newly born beautiful phoenix, covered in a far more glorious halo than anyone had ever seen.

The old had given away to the new. That is the story of life; ashes and rebirth. For the religious, you may have gone for mass or a service today as we celebrate ash Wednesday, a day that begins the lent, a 40-day journey before we remember the death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.

The beauty of the story of the phoenix and Easter are very similar. The power of both stories remain in the inspiration that, it does not matter how much burnt you feel, there is a new life with the rising sun. Friday may last for three days, but Sunday surely comes soon. Wail, quack and endure the fire; for it is only through that we are born again.

In conclusion, Chapter One of my new book ‘Be The Difference’ begins with ‘Once upon a time…’ and then goes on to tell a great African story of sacrifice, a tale upon which all forms of transformative leadership is born. Sacrifice is not a gleeful word but a desperately needed one, so on this ash Wednesday, be reminded: Pain has its place and if you allow it, it shall serve you well, for sometimes when we sacrifice something precious, we are not losing it; we are passing it on to someone else. 

Is Knowledge Power?

When you drive through University of Ghana, you will notice a giant statue of a book at the main entrance with one ancient aphorism that has been viewed persuasively for years. The question however remains; Is knowledge really power? Is power not just power or is money not the closest to power. This article was inspired by this statue and will attempt to think of such things as real power is. I seek to question if indeed knowledge can be said to be power. Before the long philosophical debate, let’s tell ourselves a story.

Once upon a time, there lived a great and powerful emperor who ruled Rome, Marcus Aurelius was his name. He was a man of great learning and skill, considered with great respect and viewed as one of Rome’s most worthy leaders. For all the great legacies of Marcus Aurelius, his meditations are perhaps the most powerful extension of his influence. His writings and learning, his knowledge of stoic philosophy has lived on for two millennia, receiving praise from other leaders, philosophers and writers long after he is dead and seemingly gone. It will appear in Marcus Aurelius, there is no debate; Knowledge is truly the source of his power and a great legacy.

The great emperor, Marcus Aurelius, in his writing had summed up the knowledge and principles necessary for a virtuous life. He laid the foundation of what was the essence of power over self and of a state. Just as one is tempted to conclude on the debate, the story gets interesting. The great King is ill and must name an heir, one for whom the knowledge of virtue, influence and power is persevered. Will the emperor adopt an heir not of his bloodline or name his son, Commodus, as the next emperor? It will have been an easier choice, except that, his son was not ready, speaking as diplomatic of his incompetence as possible.

Commodus is certainly not the man Aurelius had written of in his meditation, perhaps just the opposite of everything a virtuous man should be; a man of little knowledge and discipline, so, if knowledge was indeed power, he should be a man who has no business even as a candidate for the job of the emperor. Marcus Aurelius seemed to have answered, knowledge is power in words but will his choice of an heir affirm his believes and teachings?

If you have guessed by now, your guess is likely to be right. Commodus is named the next emperor. It appears at this point, it not about ‘know-how’ of an emperor’s job but the ‘Know-who’. Knowledge that gives power is reduced to knowledge of who rather than what or even how. This article therefore explores at its essence the ‘know-why’ of power.

The reign of Commodus marked the beginning of the fall of the Roman Empire, the end of the era called, Pax Romana. Commodus practically resigned from all responsibilities and handed the reign to Cleander, a Phrygian slave. A man who schemed for more power, even a conspiracy to murder Commodus, one Commodus escaped miraculously. The tragedy of Commodus’ reign was his murder by Narcissus after the emperor decided to fight as a gladiator, against the advice of the senate. 

Commodus fought as an attempt to win back the trust of the people for which Cleander’s epic failure had lost. There were riots and chaos by the people and the emperor was going to fight in the arena, a noble gesture it will seem, but just as the man he was, he cheated. He cheats in the fight by giving the other warriors dull blades, yet again, he did not have the knowledge or discipline of the arena but had the ‘power’ to do as he pleased. To do as emperor what he wished without knowledge, he had hurried to his own death, murdered by an old champion of the arena, a man who revenged the murder of his friends in the arena. Commodus scared his legacy as perhaps an emperor not to be remembered, at least not for the right reasons.

The central question is, why did Marcus Aurelius forsake the knowledge that preserved him, swayed by the social connection to his son, preferring willful ignorance to the wisdom of his own meditations? The answer appears in the word, knowledge from whose etymology is ‘acknowledge’. Knowledge is therefore only powerful to the extent that it is acknowledged. Commodus was the prince, recognized as the next emperor irrespective of his competence. Power is derived from recognition and that is exactly what the ancient ‘Scientia potentia est’ means. What is recognized is therefore more important as a source of power than the best techniques or facts known. 

A classic example of how superior knowledge may mean little without recognition is the technique of underhand free throw in basketball. The science proves that, one is less likely to miss a throw with this technique but its notoriety as the ‘granny style’ makes it almost an unthinkable option for players although it is scientifically more effective. So yes, know-how, know-what and even know-who may not always be power but knowing why a group of people acknowledge something is surely power. Acknowledged knowledge and social recognition is definitely more powerful than superior knowledge.

So the next time you drive through the university of Ghana, appreciate the essence of the statue as an effort to recognize knowledge’s place in our society. Anytime you see the statue, be reminded and recognize that, knowledge is indeed more powerful than money, because even money is a fictional creation of men who knew what society will recognize in exchange for value. 

This article seeks to humbly suggest to you to examine the things you have recognized and more importantly why you recognize those things as superior and by such have given power. Let us, as a society, examine the things we acknowledge as our communal wisdom, and let us scrutinize it for virtuousness. It is my hope by such know-why we will align power appropriately to where it belongs; for power must belong to wisdom, purpose, courage, justice and a prosperous and happy society. And aww, never think of knowledge as chewing, pouring and passing.

In conclusion, I have documented knowledge of why it is time for the African to ‘Be The Difference’, a book I truly believe has the necessary principles and discussions to transform a person’s life, but as with all forms of knowledge that is power, it must be acknowledged. The beauty of the book is that it is acknowledge by Uncle Ebo Whyte as it bears his picture and tells of his journey of transforming himself to become the man who has produced 45 plays, including the upcoming, Final Warning (a play you must definitely see). The book also has the foreword from Rev. Albert and Comfort Ocran. It appears this project has received some significant recognition by great sons of Africa and so it is time for you to reach out for a copy from the SU Bookshop at the SU Towers, Ridge and let us treasure knowledge, praying we may rebuild Africa not as Commodus ruined Rome, for indeed, acknowledged knowledge sure is power.

My name is Yaw Sompa, I am an African Child who believes in the future of our continent.

A Tribute: May Your Beauty Flourish

Our common bond was our birthdays, 29^th October. We first met at GIMPA Faculty of law. Lawyers wannabe, common adversities and similar struggle but it was always a smile and hi. Although we didn’t speak much then, Nana Ama Nkansah, filled me in as and when I needed an update. Then 2017 October 29^th came. As fate will have it, we both met at Tang Palace, you with a small group for your birthday and I with one friend. We didn’t say much even for this day except for our usual smile and hi. When I went for 'filla' from Ama, she got tired and sent me your number but I don’t remember reaching out until your father died, not long after our birthday. I called to the usual beautiful smile and said, ‘hey, sorry for your loss.’ We then spoke at length for the first time, finding strength in pain, in your loss.

That was the beginning of our friendship, a bond I have come to treasure and one I will remember for all eternity. You had lost your father and as for me, well, a girl I thought I loved had bounced me after what I considered years of work, yeah right, I remember how you will laugh at me amidst the words of wisdom anytime it came up in our conversations.

We scheduled our first date, a dinner. I remember picking you up that evening, you looked amazing as always, the conversation started with my newly registered 2018 car and spiraled into all sorts of hearty beautiful 'laughters'. We had a great evening full of beautiful conversation and a wonderful time. We will latter go and watch a movie, you chose, Jumanji- Welcome to the Jungle. You loved a good laugh and my memories with you are pretty fond times, you completely enjoyed a really good laugh, sometimes at my expense and as the Osofo Maame you were, you never stopped exuding wisdom. I wished we had spent more time together. You taught me valuable lessons, let me share a few with the world as we say goodbye today.

1. Never lose twice. This was you telling me, losing a girl maybe hard but I shouldn’t let one loss lead to other losses. You encouraged me to find meaning in the things I love; work, passions, dreams, etc. Your strength to always find a way out of difficult moments were exemplary. I remember we spoke the day they released your results for the entrance exam to Makola. I was on campus and I had to check the results for you. I went through, I didn’t know how to tell you I couldn’t find your index number, but after we spoke, you said, you were heartbroken but you will be fine and indeed, it did not take long for you to start your food business. You were truly an example of strength. Thank you for showing us how to be strong when things do not go as we plan and wish. 
2. A woman multiplies. You became my relationship counselor. My guide to finding a good woman. You always said, be sure what you are giving a woman because she will multiply it and give it back to you. Then you will say, what did you give this girl, if it was truly love, you shouldn’t be pained, because if she didn’t give you love back then she is not the right woman for you. As simple as it sounds, that is my compass now. You showed me how beautiful and resourceful a true woman is and how to tell a good one from one that may not be meant for you. Thank you. 
3. A meaningful life is not one lived to be 100. All life offered you was 28 years but one you truly made the best of. You have left an emptiness in all our hearts because you were such a great person. I have read over our chats countless of times, your wits, your lightheartedness, your depth, your care, your humanity. You were truly a life well lived, my friend.

We believed in the quote “We are all formed of frailty and error, let us pardon reciprocally each other’s folly, that is the first law of nature.” I remember how we went on and on about this after watching ‘Roman J. Israel, Esq.’ I just should have had the courage to say you meant so much more to me. I should have told you often how amazing you were and that I truly loved you and cherished our friendship but I am sure you will forgive my folly as you rest well beautiful. 

We last met at the National theater for an Uncle Ebo Whyte's show, I was working and couldn't see you off, least did I know it was our last time. As it turned out, I wrote a new book about Uncle Ebo and Leadership, one I know you would have loved, I had been MIA for awhile, yet again, look down on me with smile and forgive my assumption that, we had our whole life ahead of us. We shall meet again someday but for now, in the bosom of Abraham, may your beauty flourish. I miss you.