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.