Feature: EBO QUANSAH @ 75; Commemorating 50 Years In The Media

I am a man for several seasons. I was born virtually on a cocoa farm, raised in a rural setting and became cosmopolitan, once spending 13 and a half years living in Her Majesty’s Great Britain.  That is not all the contradictions surrounding my personality.

I was born an Ahmadi Muslim, called Azan for the faithful to gather for worship, had a stint in a fetish priest house hold while growing up and converted to Christianity in adult life. It has been a challenging and in some way,exciting 75 years of existence.

My father, Bukar Adoba Quansah, was a farmer who doubled as a cocoa broker. He was the pioneer settler at Agona Nomabo, a village he founded in what is now the Agona East District of the Central Region.

There, he met my mother, Amina Aba Eduwa, whose previous marriage to one Mr. Owusu of nearby Kwanyako, had been annulled at the behest of her two elder brothers. Mohammed Ketu and Yaw Donkor Ketu, both Ahmadi Muslims, argued that the man my mother had married was a pagan and thus a hindrance to her religious faith.

The first product of my parent’s union, was my humble self. I have two brothers from my mother’s side. In all, my father had 18 children. Bukar Kwesi Adobah, deceased, was a staunch Ahmadi Muslim who prided himself for being one of six young men who were dispatched from Ekumfi Ekrawfo, his hometown, where Ahmadiyya Muslim Mission in Ghana was founded, more than a century ago.

The mission to Saltpond, then provincial capital of the Mfanstiman area, was to carry the first missionary to arrive in Ghana, in a palanquin all the way to Ekrawfo. The distance was 15miles of bush-path.

The place and time of my birth meant that I have no birth certificate. It was when I began formal education at the Ekrawfo Ahmadiyya Basic School that the head teacher, Mr. A.R. Hayford, father of Coach Bashir Hayford, put a few questions to my mother and a senior brother, who was in class six at the time,and decided that 17th July 1949 could be my appropriate date of birth.

Incidentally, this month also marks the golden jubilee of my enrollment into the media. I graduated from the Ghana Institute of Journalism with my good friend Kwesi Pratt, Ms. Selma Alhassan, formerly Selma Walcott, George Crenstil, a retired Ghana Television news editor and 36 others of the Class of 74.

It is what I have done with my life since graduation, coupled with the 75 years the good Lord has granted me, that form the basis of celebration this week-end. A symposium and God willing a good lunch will take place at the K.T. Hammond Community Centre at Ekumfi Ekrawfo on Saturday, July 20, 2024. It is a matter of back to my roots.

Guest of Honouris Alhaji Kobina Tahir Hammond, Minister of Trade and Industry.

In preparation for adult life, I attended Ahmadiyya Primary and Middle Schools, Suhum Secondary Technial School, Institute of Journalism and School of Communication Studies, University of Ghana.

Mrs. Gina Blay, Ghana’s Ambassador to Germany, Ms. Rose Mensah-Kutin of Abantu for Development fame and Ms. Matilda Bafour-Awauah, until recently Director-General of the Ghana Prisons Service, are some of my mates in the Class of 1980.

It was at Mensah Sarbah Hall that I met Mr. Kofi Dua-Adonteng, one-time President of the National Union of Ghana Students (NUGS)and currently an Accra based Barrister, the late Kwadwo Owusu Afriyie, popularly known as Sir John and Dr. Kofi Ohene-Konadu, until recently President of the Governing Council of the University of Professional Studies, Accra (UPSA), and established great friendship with them.

“God is good all the time, and all the time God is good,” the Christian will tell you.” I was on attachment at the Ghanaian Times as part of the requirements for graduation when one front page story I wrote, led to my permanent appointment.

As a vibrant young man at the time, I had gone to Agona Swedru to visit a girl-friend from Apam Secondary School, who had arrived in town on vacation. As soon as I boarded the bus, the topic for discussion was about one man, a Fankobaah supporter who planted juju at the Swedru Sports Stadium, aimed at forcing local rivals, Swedru All Blacks, to go on relegation.

The news in the matter was too juicy to be ignored. As soon as I alighted at Chapel Square at the centre of town, I made a bee-line to the Police Station to ascertain the truth and to file a story about the juju man and his adventure.

Kwesi Nana’s juju story made it to the front page and got me a jobat the Ghanaian Times,as a sports writer.That was in July 1974. Since then, I have done well for myself as a newsman. I was a terror in the lives of officialdom at the Sports Council.

After the 1978African Cup of Nations, for instance, sports authorities declared a profit of one million cedis (old cedis). It emerged that the organising committee had not paid remittances due to the Confederation of African Football (CAF) and the Confederation of International Football Associations, and the non-compliance was putting Ghana Football in jeopardy.

I managed to get copies of all correspondences between these international bodies and the GFA on the issue. The Ghanaian Time,needless to state, was a compulsory read at the time.  I was very active on the political front. I attacked various military regimes, particularly for usurping the rights of the citizenry and for being dictatorial.

In September 1983, I had to leave this country and seek political asylum in Her Majesty’s Great Britain.At the time I left Kotoka International Airport, I had only 50 pence in my pocket and nowhere to go.

I was even more active in exile. I stopped a World Bank conference on Ghana in London. I was also one of those who harassed deceased former Minister of Finance, Dr. Kwesi Botchwey, to the extent that he did not know where he left his briefcase.

Summoned before 12 top British Police officers at the Holborn Police Station as an accused Number Two, in the enquiry towards finding the missing brief case, I took advantage to lecture the police on what was happening in my native Ghana. I told them that what was happening in Ghana was equivalent to a Captain in Britain overthrowing the late Queen.

What I did to the police and how I have comported myself from birth, all 12 officers rose from their seats and pronounced that it could not happen in the United Kingdom.

I have lived through the various regimes-from Osagyefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah to Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo era. My experience forms the subject of my autobiography that would be released as soon as possible.

REBEL WITH A CAUSE –promises to be exciting and explosive!

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