THE JOURNEY : ON A DIFFICULT MISSION

Reading Manasseh Azure Awuni's article : GRADUATING WITH SECOND CLASS UPPER,prior to entering the school of Journalism got me confused.I had followed his exploits for sometime,so I thought he was good value for the tops.

Portions of his story opened me to up to many things,the realities on the ground and then the pretense!

The lie we've been living with respect to our educational system in this town was about to hit me,I thought to myself.I was always not going to be the first to enter tertiary school,neither was I going to be the only one to pass out at the end and go job-hunting,NO!

But it all depended and "me" and what I set out to achieve in this area.What caught my empty head at the time was when I saw this;

"The actual reason I missed first class, however, was that I had my personal syllabus aside the one we all learnt. After my practical attachment with GTV in Level 100, I had a different perspective about the programme I was pursuing.

I realised what was taught in the classroom was not exactly what was happening in the newsroom. And after having my appetite for journalism whetted in the newsroom, I returned with a different mind-set. I spent more time reading novels, newspaper articles and journalism books than my notes",Manasseh wrote.

I asked myself,was I going to do same?How was I going to fit in this space?can this small head of mine do all of these?was I really prepared for this?

Then I read on and discovered some more.Manasseh's "class" did not mean he was not good enough,it only meant a defect in the kind of system we run in this part of town.He had done so much while in school and on attachment at various places,which caught the eye of prospective employers.

He did not need to be the most popular face on television,nor the most heard voice on radio to attract the attention and notice he got at the time.

"So my Second Class Upper was not because I went to fool about. In March 2011, I felt terrible when everybody thought I had disappointed them. But looking back, I have no regrets.I started getting job offers while I was still in school. And I have rejected many job offers since leaving school.

Prospective employers do not ask about my class. They cite my writings. In the year of my graduation, I also had a golden opportunity to redeem my lost image",he added.

 Fearless Manasseh Azure Awuni, receiving his award, for being the journalist of the year

These were quite some words.Simple.Apt.Clear.but deep....and everyone knows the Manasseh story today!
Armed with just these and a couple more writings I read,I set out to create my own world and live in it.

...The first class assignment in Print news reporting at the Ghana Institute of Journalism got me wondering if the decision to divert from what was a tough science course in Senior High School to anarts-related one,was the most ill-advised piece of decision I had made.

 Forecourt of the Ghana institute of journalism

Scoring an awful (2/15) in that test was weird.Granted,I knew next to nothing about Journalism and all,it was not your typical elective exam;it was laden with "current affairs", general knowledge and some bits of media-related issues.

That should not be too difficult,don't you think?
The lecturer wore a serious,no-nonsense style visage and gave us all,bar Evans Omani Chima, a telling off.Evans scored the highest in that exercise.

A week passed,and another assignment was here.Same lecturer,same course,only a different assignment.We needed to write a two-paged or so report/news story on an event we had witnessed.While she was clear in her warning that the story should be original and not copied/culled from any news website,everyone else wondered how she was going to detect a culled story,the lecturer.

From the extreme right Komla, Felila, Esther and Herty during a group
assignment

Fortunately,at the time,there was the National Youth Achievers' Awards to come off that weekend.That looked like a story I could work on and submit for my assignment the following week.
Having not been physically present at the function,did not mean I couldn't write my story from watching the ceremony carried live on national television.

I produced the story,the best I could,and submitted for marking.

For some reason,madam lecturer walked into the seminar room,where the lecture was being held.She was holding a bulk of papers clutched tightly to her arm,the same arm on which hang her huge laptop bag;those were our marked papers.

She wore an angry face,and before even distributing the papers,she lambasted us,for what she described as,"copied stories from news websites,reproduced for her as our own assignment".

While I was so confident mine was not going to fall in such a category,I remained cautious.But all that counted for nothing as madam lecturer cancelled my assignment,claiming it was copied from "Ghanareporters.com" or so.

Again she scored me, (2/15 ),"could have been (0)",she said,but for the energy I used in typing the assignment.

I swore I wrote the news story all by myself,but she would not listen.Her decision was long taken and she was not going to change anything.I was devastated,down,and fed up already,since nothing I did went right.
It got me thinking.Too much thinking in the first week of reporting to school,coupled with the thought of an already unconvinced father who felt his son should be reading some pharmacy,computer science or other,compounded the confusion.

Manasseh could not have been wrong,I thought to myself.

I didn't need a seer to tell me I had to be up and doing.I needed to get serious.I needed to pay attention to all the fine details;those so fine that the ordinary eye could not see.How not to get into the bad books of madam and other lecturers and many more were to top my week's resolution.

Days went past and then weeks.Etsey freshie Atisu was my senior and cadet 2IC back in high school,Bishop Herman College.He was already at the Ghana Institute of Journalism,so,long before I even applied for admission at the institute,I made preliminary enquiries about the school from him.

He motivated me to apply,his kind words kept me alive,and on campus,he briefed me fairly about life on campus,what's on and what's not.
Etsey tagged me in articles he wrote on Facebook and those he posted on his blog ; AN ENCOUNTER WITH A DAMSEL,the first I read,and absolutely loved!.Despite those articles seeming "so long" in my eyes,I found them interesting.The writing was different.It was open,it was broad,the use of the language was admirable.The blend of the events,the sequences and the unfolding story gripped me.

Inadvertently,I picked up a few tips from his writings too and soon after I began expressing myself,in my own way.During the Feature Writing class,I found the lecturer extremely intelligent and the course quite interesting;just as Etsey's articles.They were features too.

Etsey Atisu

Mr. Kwodwo Jonas Anson Boateng had briefed us on his first meeting with us about the tools we needed as student journalists to stay relevant.I recall he mentioned a multimedia mobile phone as the most basic of them all.Then the laptops,cameras,recorders,and tablets would follow.

He told us about social media being a powerful tool for the journalist,hence the need for us all to create personal social media pages (Facebook,Twitter and a blog ) where we could share our write-ups and opinions with the rest of the world.

Though it sounded quite odd at the time,it made some sense to me in the end.He threatened to chase us out of his class if we had no multimedia handset.Imagine returning home from school one day and witnessing an accident happen right before your eyes.

Or a mob attack on an alleged thief,or even a youth protest about one issue or another on the streets.How was I going to record some of these and share with the world,or even serve as a primary source of information for a late-arriving traditional media representative at the scene of the happening?

The Facebook page was there,it was my home before I came to GIJ,all I needed to add were the twitter handle and a blog page,the complicated ones would come a bit later.

Days went past,then weeks,and then months.Things began shaping up nicely as time flew.I would write about any and everything and share on social media.Sometimes the feedback I got was good,other times indifferent.

One thing happened,led to another,and then another.It was a few weeks to exams,and I was making towards the cafeteria during one fine morning break,when Priscilla Boakye Agyemang called out to me.She was still hurriedly rearranging her handouts and exercise books from the course just gone past,Logic and Critical Thinking.

She asked that we did some revision after class.It was the first real time she had engaged me extensively in a chat.After class,we revised the notes,I think Betty joined in that afternoon.It was the beginning of a lasting relationship with a lady who has since become known as "Grandma".

Her close friend,Jemima Ansong whom she completed the University of Cape Coast with,was in our class too.

She forced herself into being the class representative;autocratically.Priscilla and Jemima were friends,and if I'm friends with Priscilla,then I should with Jemima,who has since also become known too as "auntie".

They are very ambitious,intelligent and beautiful young ladies,who know their worth.Not only did we form study and assignment groups together,but also a family!!!We would almost always be seen sitting together,or doing some other things together.
Jemima claims to be virgin at age 26+,but my course mates have doubted and continue to doubt her.She would always remind them about it,and even the lecturers too,albeit jokingly.

Her locally acquired foreign accent and her squeaky voice could pierce your ear.She usually wore long earrings and short skirts,Priscilla too.(doesn't mean they are bad kids,no!at least as far as I know,they're decent young ladies).

With their first degrees from the university of Cape coast,they were mature in thoughts,and had constructive opinions about almost everything.The "small boy" among them (me) -they called their son would learn so much from his association with them.

Jemima (auntie),me,Priscilla (grandma)

We made conference phone calls to discuss subjects we read about during the day.

I barely lacked anything materially;thanks to grandma.Talk of course handouts,textbooks,food,good counsel,name them.

There's an aspect of their lives,I would not want to ruin this story,and they know fully well what it is.Let's discuss those another day,shall we?.

As the semesters went past,the bond grew stronger,the drive and strive for excellence increased.

From the times we met at La Palm to do our researches,sometimes assignments,through to the times we consulted UT Bank's Prince Kofi Amoabeng for his perspectives on entrepreneurial issues,to when we went to Chorkor chemuenaa to witness at first hand the lives of settlers around the sea to do a story,through to when we met at Jemima's house over jollof,fried fish and shitor to learn how to do voice editing for radio,we gathered quite some experiences.They were telling and would prove valuable as time went by.

Others included times when we met at Priscilla's mother's shop in Accra to plan a television documentary also over slices of fried yam,stew and fried fish,...to when we spent a whole day,dawn-to-dusk at Krokoyili,a slum behind Agbogbloshie to film a young kayayo for a day in her life's documentary.

This documentary turned out the best documentary of the entire batch,and scored the highest marks.It is currently being used as a guide for teaching students,by the lecturer.I would not even want to start saying what we endured until the documentary was finished and submitted,in all,the satisfaction was that,our efforts had paid off,like it always did.

Priscilla,me,Jemima on graduation day

Along the way,Captain Rita Anane joined the family,as senior "grandma" and played her role despite being a busy soldier,and a wife.Happily,she got married while we were in school,and has an adorable daughter.She was a strong lady too,mature in every aspect.Even when she was heavily pregnant,she came for group studies and attended meetings to plan our group assignments.

By this time,things had began falling in place,I had learnt so much in so short a time.I began boring my social media friends with my long essays,called articles and soccer commentary.While some found my articles revealing,interesting and all,others had and continue to have different ideas.But in all,these "small small" write-ups,have pushed me to hone and continue to strive to be the best that i can.

My writing skills have not been the best around these parts,but has improved vastly over time.The end was nigh,and we needed to produce a thesis as part of requirements to be awarded a diploma certificate.I had not done this before.

Then came from nowhere,one Alhaji Cardiff...The man who's insatiable desire for higher education has seen him attain two or so first degrees,a Masters degree,an MPHIL,and is currently pursuing his PhD etc...

Like he was sent by God to guide me through my thesis,he came through at exactly the right time.

Alhaji Cardiff is a research specialist.He has assisted many students in the area of research,and I was not going to be the last.

He coached me from start to finish.Times when he travelled out of the country,he still asked me to forward the work I had done to him through his an e-mail for correction and editing.As busy as he was,traveling around the world pursuing educational laurels,he found time to assist me produce my thesis;one which in the end was crowned with an (A).

Before I forget,one thing has been enormously helpful.Many of my course mates from day one,relied on me for lecture notes and photocopies of handouts.Do you know what that did for me?

It made me the more attentive and careful in writing my notes.The last thing you want to do is mislead everybody in the class with incomplete,and incorrect notes.
That kept me constantly on the move,to try as much as possible to grasp stuff during lectures,so I could discuss with the guys.

However,my decision during the last semester,not to give my notebook to anyone to take home and return the following day, did not go down well with some of my course mates,but I would not care.I had my reasons.

I felt it was ok if whoever needed the notes photocopied or hand-copied them before leaving school,so I could keep my notebooks.

The sleepless nights,the extra work,the resolve to be different,and the prove-him-wrong-mission (referring to my father) I embarked on at the beginning appear to be paying off.

There comes that time in everyone's life,when people truly discover themselves.

While it may take a longer time for some,others do just fine in so short years.
Some of us did through the walls of "small Ghana Institute of Journalism",YES,we discovered ourselves.

We met everybody; the calm,rude,hardworking,"chrifes",arrogant,noble,old,young,careless,unserious,genuine,fake,"genius-es",politicians,lazy,cool heads,admirers,mentors,passers by,lifetime friends,singers,and all.(everyone).

But in all of these,one of the most important lessons,that's to tolerate the excesses and weaknesses of others,while adjusting oneself to same,have been learned.

If today,I have learned to be very particular about details,the fine details about life and all it's accompanying stages,it's thanks to GIJ and the lecturers.

It's called social interaction and social skills.It is when you meet
people from all kinds of backgrounds,and live with them like you've known them since Adam.

It is when you try to help as much you learn from these same people.
It's the acquaintances you stroke with them.
The lessons you learned from them,and the positives you shaped your life with.
It is when you supported colleagues,during times they needed it ; at
their programmes,their parties,their marriage ceremonies,their naming
ceremonies,their crowning as beauty queens on campus and all...

It's when others recognised you hold certain values sacred,and sought to emulate them to make themselves better.

It's when all others were doing one thing,and you were doing another.

Two years on.........the story continues to be written,on my blog,I am able to express my thoughts on varied topics of interest to me.Short stints at Etv-Ghana for internships have been absolutely telling on many things I do today.

The Grace of God has been HUGE!!!and all the efforts somehow have been crowned;during our graduation. The awards,my daddy's emotional hug during the awards-presentation,my tears after receiving the awards,and the subsequent outpouring of congratulatory messages,phone calls,text messages and kind words have been overwhelming.

myself in a pose with one of my certificates,in the background however,is Jemima

While I share these awards with everyone who played a role in achieving this,especially my parents ( the previously unconvinced father about my career choice ),I would like to thank all my course mates,my new family,friends,(real and virtual) and all who have believed in and supported the dream.

my awards on display,plus certificates

The events of the past weeks have been truly humbling,and I bless God for glorifying himself.

an appearance in the daily graphic was not out of place

The challenges ahead have become the more arduous,and the expectations have quadrupled.But with God on our side,we shall surely ride the storm,and hopefully at the end,we would have a bigger and better story to tell.The story,has only begun...