Odyssey of Akyemkwaa: The Story of a Ghanaian Immigrant

By Nana Adjaloo

This Memoir, Odyssey of Akyemkwaa, is a coming-of-age story written with finesse and encompasses narrations which evoke scenes in a documentary movie. The main character, Siam Erzuah, is a Sales Representative working for the Sheehy Auto Group in Alexandria, Virginia. Encouraged by his appreciative customers as well as others, he reveals his personal life stories with a surprising flair of an accomplished story teller. From the beginning, the book takes the reader to the Village of Agona Mankrong in Ghana where Erzuah was born.

In the early stages of his life, he becomes conscious of his parents constant financial woes. As a result, he decides not to follow their subsistence farming occupation (his father also had an additional job as a Field Assistant for the Ministry of Agriculture helping Cocoa farmers). In succinct language, the book portrays Erzuah as having a profound distaste for subsistence farming out of various reasons including his morbid fear of snakes. Hence, he decides to take the education route to have a better job in the future.

Despite the desire to be educated, the book tells of how Erzuah almost had his secondary school admission cancelled because of prolonged sickness and subsequent death of his elder brothera situation which causes his parents to be financially incapacitated. Out of desperation, his parents want to postpone his education, but Erzuah will hear none of it! His insistence on going to school forces his father to ask for help from his friend, a move that causes Erzuah to end up in a virtual domestic slavery.

Throughout his secondary and college education, the book traces Erzuahs struggles and progress with candor and humor. At one point, he is cornered and beaten up by a student gang of five for no reason. On another occasion, he steals a roasted plantain when he could not contain his hunger anymore, but gets caught and punished. His first job at Ghanas Bureau of National Investigations, and subsequent travel to the United States caps a life full of drama, successes, failures, and also determination.

As a coming-of-age story, Odyssey of Akyemkwaa represents the archetypal rite-de-passage experienced by the average male growing up in Sub-Saharan Africa. It is a life story often times seen only on TVs in America and other Western Countries. This is a must read book for all adults, college students, and those who find themselves under unbearable stress in life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504971409

Nana Adjaloo

Nana Adjaloo is a Writer, Mentor, Sales Consultant, and Philanthropist. The fourth of six children, he was born to Mr. Mohammed E. Siam and Madam Comfort Nuro in 1964 at Agona Mankrong, a village located in the Central Region of Ghana. In his adolescent and teenage years, Adjaloo experienced series of health issues including spinal disc problems. His incessant complaints of body itching was diagnosed in later years to be a case of ichthyosis. In spite of all, Adjaloo persisted in life and after his primary and secondary education, succeeded in gaining admission to the Ghana Institute of Journalism. After graduating with a diploma in Journalism in 1990, he joined Ghana’s counter Intelligence Agency, the Bureau of National Investigations, where he worked as a Field and Desk Officer for six years. In 1996, Adjaloo tried his luck and won a Diversity Visa Lottery organized by the US State Department. He resigned from his job in November 1997 and, together with his wife Christiana Ampah, left Ghana for the United States With a desire to further his education, Adjaloo went back to school in the US and obtained a degree in Criminal Justice in 2012, as well as a diploma in Information Technology Support. His goal to attend Law school or, as an alternative, pursue his education to the Doctorate level suffered a setback when he went through a life-altering divorce and was forced to regroup and restart his life. Adjaloo is now re-married and works in Alexandria Virginia.

Book preview

ODYSSEY OF AKYEMKWAA

The Story of a Ghanaian Immigrant

NANA ADJALOO

42629.png

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

©

2016 NANA ADJALOO. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/18/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7139-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7138-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-7140-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016900257

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

I Author’s Note

II Acknowledgement

III Introduction

1 Family Background & Primary Education

2 Vacation

3 The Scary Teacher & Other Adventures

4 The Nasty Fall, & My Illness

5 Warrior Mom & Other Events

6 Sentry Duty at 13

7 Charles Stole My Sweetheart

8 Trouble with Vida Bempong

9 Welcome to Swedru School of Business

10 Auntie Yoko’s Business

1 The Senyiwa Episode

12 The Conundrum

13 Precipice of Disasters: Sey Kobina to Ampadu

14 My Ganja Buddies

15 Beyond Coincidence

16 Rescued by Misfortune

17 Wrenched from Obscurity

18 Sixth Form: A Pre-University Experience.

19 Love Quadrangle

20 College Education in Ghana

21 Internship & Graduation

22 First Job

23 Combat With ‘Sharks’

24 Preparing for Departure

25 Goodbye, Ghana.

26 Virginia

27 Pinelake Court, Alexandria

28The Broom seller becomes a Honda Salesman

29 The Baton Changed: Mt Vernon to Sheehy

30 The trip Back to Ghana

31 …..And the World Stood Still

32 She Said Goodbye

Epilogue

About the Author

Nana Adjaloo is a Writer, Mentor, Sales Consultant, and Philanthropist. The fourth of six children, he was born to Mr. Mohammed E. Siam and Madam Comfort Nuro in 1964 at Agona Mankrong, a village located in the Central Region of Ghana.

In his adolescent and teenage years, Adjaloo experienced series of health issues including spinal disc problems. His incessant complaints of body itching was diagnosed in later years to be a case of ichthyosis.

In spite of all, Adjaloo persisted in life and after his primary and secondary education, succeeded in gaining admission to the Ghana Institute of Journalism. After graduating with a diploma in Journalism in 1990, he joined Ghana’s counter Intelligence Agency, the Bureau of National Investigations, where he worked as a Field and Desk Officer for six years.

In 1996, Adjaloo tried his luck and won a Diversity Visa Lottery organized by the US State Department. He resigned from his job in November 1997 and, together with his wife Christiana Ampah, left Ghana for the United States

With a desire to further his education, Adjaloo went back to school in the US and obtained a degree in Criminal Justice in 2012, as well as a diploma in Information Technology Support. His goal to attend Law school or, as an alternative, pursue his education to the Doctorate level suffered a setback when he went through a life-altering divorce and was forced to regroup and restart his life. Adjaloo is now re-married and works in Alexandria Virginia.

About The Book

This Memoir, Odyssey of Akyemkwaa, is a coming-of-age story written with finesse and encompasses narrations which evoke scenes in a documentary movie. The main character, Siam Erzuah, is a Sales Representative working for the Sheehy Auto Group in Alexandria, Virginia. Encouraged by his appreciative customers as well as others, he reveals his personal life stories with a surprising flair of an accomplished story teller. From the beginning, the book takes the reader to the Village of Agona Mankrong in Ghana where Erzuah was born.

In the early stages of his life, he becomes conscious of his parents’ constant financial woes. As a result, he decides not to follow their subsistence farming occupation (his father also had an additional job as a Field Assistant for the Ministry of Agriculture helping Cocoa farmers). In succinct language, the book portrays Erzuah as having a profound distaste for subsistence farming out of various reasons including his morbid fear of snakes. Hence, he decides to take the education route to have a better job in the future.

Despite the desire to be educated, the book tells of how Erzuah almost had his secondary school admission cancelled because of prolonged sickness and subsequent death of his elder brother—a situation which causes his parents to be financially incapacitated. Out of desperation, his parents want to postpone his education, but Erzuah will hear none of it! His insistence on going to school forces his father to ask for help from his friend, a move that causes Erzuah to end up in a virtual domestic slavery.

Throughout his secondary and college education, the book traces Erzuah’s struggles and progress with candor and humor. At one point, he is cornered and beaten up by a student gang of five for no reason. On another occasion, he steals a roasted plantain when he could not contain his hunger anymore, but gets caught and punished. His first job at Ghana’s Bureau of National Investigations, and subsequent travel to the United States caps a life full of drama, successes, failures, and also determination.

As a coming-of-age story, Odyssey of Akyemkwaa represents the archetypal rite-de-passage experienced by the average male growing up in Sub-Saharan Africa. It is a life story often times seen only on TV’s in America and other Western Countries. This is a must read book for all adults, college students, and those who find themselves under unbearable stress in life.

Dedicated To the Memory of

My Late Brother

Kofi Brown

Author’s Note

The main title of this book, Odyssey of Akyemkwaa (Pronounced: ah-chim-quaa), derives from two sources: The first is the name of the famous ancient Greek poem, Odyssey, written by Homer which details the Greek hero Ulysses’ 10-year epic journey back to Ithaca after the Trojan War– a war that pitted the Greeks against the defenders of Troy.

The second part of the main title, Akyemkwaa, relates to the Akyem tribe (sometimes spelled as Akim) of Ghana which the main character, Erzuah, hails from. Ethnically, Erzuah is from two tribes: The Nzima tribe which his father belongs, and the Akyem tribe which his mother comes from. However, the recognition of one’s affiliation in most Ghanaian tribal groupings is done matrilineally, hence, Erzuah is considered as an Akyem rather than an Nzima. It is worthy to note that both the Nzimas and Akyems belong to the dominant ethnic group in Ghana called the Akans.

Within the Akyem tribe, a member is usually referred to as Akyemkwaa, meaning son of Akyem, or daughter of Akyem (the name is gender neutral).Thus being a son of the Akyem tribe, an Akyemkwaa, and having gone through a unique life situation of his own, the Author opted for the expression Odyssey to figuratively reflect the journey of Erzuah’s life, hence the title Odyssey of Akyemkwaa.

The reader should also note that a deliberate effort has been made to retain certain Ghanaian words, phrases, as well as sentences which may not be familiar but, nonetheless, are inserted in an attempt to capture the flavor of the original situations being described. However, in those instances, the full meanings have been provided English.

For those who might want to know the overriding theme of this book, it is a coming-of- age story; an effort at making a statement using the main character Erzuah’s experiences, that there is always life after every hardship. In addition, there is an underlining sub-theme which attempts to edify the morally uplifting act called kindness—the act of giving without thinking of receiving back—which many times ends up re-directing the life of recipients towards a fruitful and sometimes virtuous path.

The Author will like to state herein, that the narrations in this memoir are all real life events. Therefore, all necessary efforts have been made to describe the occurrences as best as possible within the limitations of legality and human recollection.

Of important note, the Writer assumes full responsibility for all the contents and claims in this memoir. Every occurrence in this book has been detailed to the best of the Writer’s knowledge, and there has been no attempt whatsoever to offend the sensibilities, or defile the reputation of any person or entity. However, to forestall any possible future legal tango, real names and characters have been replaced with pseudonyms just to protect the privacy of the people involved.

Acknowledgement

With humility, I will like to acknowledge the immense contributions to my life by my mother Comfort Yaa Nuro (I call her Auntie), and my father Mohammed E. Siam. I will state without equivocation, that I owe my work ethic, high tolerance threshold, patience and empathy, as well as respect to the unalloyed values inculcate in me by my parents. And I do appreciate the fact that despite their desolate financial situation, they always did everything they possibly could to help me when growing up.

Auntie once wanted to sell her new clothes to help pay for my fees when I was in secondary school, but I stopped her from doing so out of considerations for her own social well-being. Eventually, my father managed to scrounge around to pay for the fees. Those selfless sacrifices from my parents have embedded a permanent bell of reminder in my consciousness which rings constantly to alert me of my eternal gratitude to them as well as my obligations towards others in need.

I also want to acknowledge my brother, Alhaji Mohammed E. Siam, for being a shining example to me and serving as a beacon of light for my academic pursuit. My quest for higher education and my reading habits stayed with me because he not only set an example but also encouraged and helped me whenever I needed assistance. Brother Siam was also a trail blazer and the first in my mother’s as well as my father’s family to attend college.

In the same vein, I will like to acknowledge my older sister Ayesha for being the one person who always took upon herself to visit me wherever I lived (except the United States which I am working on). I remember one time when she answered my ‘distressed letter’ (I was in secondary school and pining away with hunger) and brought me sumptuous meal as well as money for my pocket.

And I want to thank my two younger sisters Ama Fatima E. Siam, and Mariam E. Siam. Ama and Mariam were staying with me when I resigned from the Bureau of National Investigations (BNI) and departed from Ghana. I can never forget their immense help not only in organizing my apartment, but also making sure they had my meals ready anytime I came home from work.

In addition, I will also like to acknowledge Mrs. Mubina Khan and her sister Javeria Ahmed, as well as their mother Fauzia Khan, for coming to my aid during a very stressful period of separation and subsequent divorce from my ex-wife. I will never forget the rich hospitality accorded to me during the many visitations to their apartment in Alexandria, Virginia. I also remember and appreciate the immense assistance Mubina and her mom gave me during my trip to Morocco for my second marriage.

One person I will not forget to acknowledge is Mr. Theophilus Maranga, an Attorney –at—Law in New York and a family friend. It was Mr. Maranga who gave me an Affidavit of Support for my US Visa, as well as my plane ticket to the United States without taking a single dollar from me. Mr. Maranga also arranged a one-month free accommodation for me in Bronx before I left New York and settled in Virginia. I will forever say thanks to Mr. Theophilus Maranga.

An important family I certainly want to acknowledge and thank is the Sheehy family, especially the President of Sheehy Auto Stores, Mr. Vince Sheehy. I have worked for Vince for about fifteen years and he never ceases to amaze me with his humble presence and consistent words of encouragement.

Another dear person who is worthy to be mentioned and acknowledged is Miss Agnes Frempong of Accra, Ghana. Aggie played a yeoman’s role in my life during and after my education at the Ghana Institute of Journalism.

Last and most important of all, I will like to acknowledge my wife Wafaa Ben Mbarek, and my sons Brian E. Siam and Jerry E. Siam, for their love, patience, and affection. The heart of my love and acknowledgment goes to my 10- month old daughter, Hanna Nhyira Siam for the immeasurable joy she has brought me at this point of my life. Anytime I wake up and see the face of my daughter, I experience a breath of new life coursing through my veins which gives me strength to carry on with my daily endeavors. Without my wife and children, my life will be utterly empty, without joy, and devoid of hope. I forever cherish their deep affection and support.

To all my customers, I also say a big thank you and acknowledge you as the fulcrum around which my success in the car business revolves.

Introduction

Sometime during the summer of 2002, a tearful middle-aged woman, Lamisha Trent, addressed me with the following comments: I am surprised to see that there are people like you in the car sales business.

Why did you say that? I asked in an attempt to find out what was going through her mind.

Because you don’t behave like the regular car sales guy, she answered, and continued: Everybody knows car sales people are always up to get you, but you act so different!

With a smile, I informed Lamisha that the narrative about car sales people being nothing but crooks ready to pounce and take advantage of unsuspecting and vulnerable customers [was] patently false. Moreover, there are many hardworking car sales personnel including ex-service men and women, who approach their job with the best possible intention and would do everything possible within their means to help a customer purchase a car, I added.

The conversation took place at Sheehy Honda in Alexandria, and it was because Miss Trent who was in the process of purchasing a car from me, had struggled to come up with the needed down-payment. Seeing her predicament, I had contributed an amount of $400 to help her meet the down-payment required, hence her comments.

I could not tell whether my argument defending car sales people had an influence on her entrenched dismal opinion about car sales professionals. However, from the nuances of her followed-up comments, I knew that my magnanimous act made a very good impression on her and probably might have helped alter her mind.

With an obvious desire to know more about me, Lamisha asked further questions ranging from my country of origin to my previous job. After giving her a synopsis of my background (studying Journalism in college, working as a security operative in Ghana, etc.), including the struggles I went through while growing up and how I managed to plough through life’s travails and ended up as a car salesman in the US, all that she said was: Wow! Siam you should write down your story. Laughing off her suggestion, I told her she was not the first to offer that idea, and that I would think about it. After all said and done, she gave me a bear hug and departed for her home in Washington DC. For the next 3 years, I had not less than four referrals from Miss Trent and continued receiving friendly calls from her until we lost contact some few years ago.

In the meantime, the suggestion by the customer planted an idea in my mind to consider writing and publishing my life’s tale for a while. But the world of ideas and intentions, I have come to realize, is sometimes quite antithetical to the world of reality. Sooner than later, I completely jettisoned the idea as the demands of my job kept me too busy to contemplate on any literary pursuit.

In the meantime, I continued enjoying my profession until the mid-2000s when I began encountering criticisms in the form of veiled comments and suggestions from some family members and friends who were concerned of my ardent commitment to the car sales business with its unsteady monthly income.

Throughout the said period, I kept my job as a sales consultant with Sheehy Honda in Alexandria, Virginia, and was doing pretty okay. But the continual criticisms and advice from those I considered as dear ones created a dynamic unrest in my thoughts for a number of years.

And as if the verbal onslaughts from friends and family were not enough, a few customers, when informed of my background as a Journalist, also began giving me similar suggestions to, at least, try and practice the craft of writing which I had learned in college.

Admittedly, anytime I got confronted with a suggestion to delve into the writing profession, I would give it a little thought but always ended up brushing it aside with a silent rhetorical question: Who in America would give a damn about a script written by a diminutive African immigrant working as a regular car sales guy, and who will read his stories anyway?. In my view, having come from a village in Ghana to live in the city of Alexandria in USA alone is an achievement for a nondescript individual like me with an average mind and minimal physical talent.

I have never craved for much, and have neither sought fame nor publicity to live a contended life. Hence, I deemed it pointless to extricate myself from what I have come to know and very much comfortable with for what I was uncertain of.

With such mindset closeted in self-flagellation and minimalism, I plodded along in my sales job ignoring similar suggestions for a long time. The picture I kept seeing in my mental image was, at least I had a job with an income and that was good enough. Moreover, the suggestion to divert to the literary world–practicing journalism, or becoming a writer as some family members suggested– would involve re-tooling my skills which means furthering my education and getting saddled with debts. With those conclusions, I held my peace and kept on with my car sales job.

However, my insouciance to the various entreaties to consider the writing profession began to change due to some unique circumstances which eventually compelled me to pick up my laptop and, as a first step, began telling my story to the world with an outline of a script about my personal life.

The first of those circumstances was when I met a Pakistani family, Mr. Ismail Abdullah and his wife Madam Fatima Khan, and became a mentor to their young daughter, Amina Khan, in 2007. Throughout Amina’s education at the Northern Virginia Community College (NOVA), I strenuously guided her especially on her written assignments. As a result of improvements in her grades, she began inviting her classmates to her apartment purposely for them to collaborate in their school work under my tutelage. Teaching college students, I found out, was no mean feat. Sometimes in order to avoid re-writing whole sentences or paragraphs (they would digress, or deviate from a given rubric and I had to re-write all over), I would script a gist of what a specific assignment required and would ask them to ‘add some meat’ and submit to their professors.

As it happened, Amina’s friends also ended up receiving better grades, and that triggered a chorus of suggestions and advice from them urging me to leave the sales job for a profession relating to teaching or writing. My answer to their pestering entreaties was always the same: I have a job with a decent income and very much okay with what I am doing. They were never satisfied with my response but could not persuade me to change my position. Nevertheless, in my solitary moments, their voices kept echoing in my ears.

The second occurrence which influenced my decision to finally consider coming out with a memoir also took place sometime in the summer of 2008. It was when a young African American male, Mr. Turner, and his 19 year old Caucasian wife, Sarah Melomey, came to the Honda dealership to buy a car because their old Ford Festiva was on its last leg. In the course of interviewing them, I realized they were in a desperate situation because none of them had a good credit profile. Adding to their problems, the couple had a six-month old baby and would be in dire circumstance if their car broke down–a scenario which would cause the husband to find it difficult commuting to his job 30 miles away from his apartment. When I asked the couple if they had any money for down payment, the response which came out was exactly what I was expecting; they had nothing!

Having gained extensive experience in car-sales business, and knowing the mistake that could occur and probably the hurt I could cause if I prejudge the situation, I decided to show Mr. Turner and his wife a couple of pre-owned cars around $12,000. After test-driving a Toyota Corolla with them and making sure they liked the car, I advised to run their credit to see what I could do to help. The wife turned out to have two relatively new credit lines with a maximum of a thousand dollars. The husband, on the other hand, was just a ‘ghost’ with some hospital bills and nothing else. Having put together the required information, I headed to the Sales Tower and briefed the manager in charge. His advice was to give the whole deal to the finance manager to try if any bank would consider financing the couple.

After over four hours of back-and-forth between the finance manager, the sales manager, and the customers—with me coordinating the interactions– a sort of tentative approval was obtained from a second-chance bank (I believe it was Santander USA) with a plethora of conditions including a minimum of one thousand dollars as down-payment. I was even surprised there was an approval in the first place.

With foreknowledge of their empty pocket economy, I encouraged the couple to call around to family members and friends for the down-payment, so for the next hour, they did nothing but call around for financial help. At that point, we were about four hours deep into the transaction but I never saw them eating anything substantial and wondered if they never felt hungry. The only time the wife ate was when she took some coins from her handbag and bought a snack from the vending machine.

About 30 minutes into their phone search for financial bailout, the husband was able to secure a thousand dollars from a relative, so we were able to wrap up the deal. With the tedious transaction out of the way, the issue of insurance coverage cropped up as the couple was required to have full coverage before driving home with the car. But that routine insurance requirement precipitated another episode of insane merry-go-round.

After several calls to some randomly selected insurance companies, the best quote was obtained from GEICO. To secure coverage, an initial amount of $300 was required as a first payment. But once again Mr. Turner and his wife had no money and informed the GEICO representative that they would not be able to get the required $300 until a week’s time. At that point, I could see a ‘cloud of utter hopelessness’ gradually enveloping the couple; their forlorn faces were sights to melt even the most unrighteous heart. They had been in the dealership for more than six hours and were about to go home with nothing. Taking an empathetic look at Mr. Turner and his wife especially their adoring baby, I decided to salvage the situation to allow them drive home with their newly purchased car.

In the meantime, Mrs. Melomey was still on the phone with the GEICO representative desperately pleading for a ‘window’ of some few days to come up with the required first payment, but it was apparent that she was having no success. It was at that point when I drew my wallet from my pocket, took out my debit card, and handed it over to her to make the first payment. With the couple’s eyes locked on mine in astonishment, I repeated what I said, before the wife reluctantly took the card. The GEICO representative asked to speak to me for assurance and confirmation, so I took over the phone conversation and gave him (representative) the go-ahead to take the first payment from my checking account.

After the transactions, Mr. Turner and his wife gave me a long endearing hug accompanied by a firm promise to give me a refund in a few days. With all seriousness—and much to their further surprise–I declined the refund and told them to keep the money.

My gesture prompted the couple to engage in about 20 minutes of detailed conversation with me asking where I was from and inquiring more of my background. I felt a sense of deja vu, for I had faced similar questions in similar situations with previous customers. To answer their queries, I gave them a summary of my life: How I grew up with very little, how I traversed through suffocating vicissitudes of life, and how sometimes strangers from only God knows where intervened to help prod me along. At the end of the conversation, the husband uttered what I have heard many times: Mr. Erzuah, you should find someone to help you write your story. I laughed at the suggestion, bade them goodbye, and walked back to my desk.

Again, there was another episode which also resulted in a customer making the same request by asking me to tell my story to the world. This situation involved an eighty-five year old lady, Mrs. Regina Pant, whom I had known for about ten years by virtue of having sold her two cars and having helped her many times to sort out issues involving the bells-and-whistles in her cars. Mrs. Pant had lost her husband (I happened to know him too) awhile back, and had defaulted to a habit of consulting me on the barest of issues involving her automobile.

Sometime in the summer of 2011, I received a call from her stating, in a trembling voice, that she had been involved in an accident. I asked of her location and she told me she had gotten so shaken after the accident, she had driven straight to her apartment at Montebello (Alexandria, VA) right after being helped by a Cop to exchange information with the other party involved. I advised Mrs. Pant to call her insurance company immediately and report the accident, and to also ask them (the insurance personnel) to recommend an auto body-shop for repairs. Assuredly, Mrs. Pant informed me she had already taken those steps. I had her address in my database, therefore, having told her to wait for me in her apartment, I quickly jumped into my car and headed towards her residence.

Montebello is a gated community near Huntington Metro Station in Alexandria, but on reaching the gate I was given a quick entry since Mrs. Pant had already called the gatemen and given information about me. When I reached her place, I saw the damaged car parked in one of the parking spaces and was surprised she was able to drive home. I called and informed her on my cellphone that I was standing by her car. When Mrs. Pant came downstairs, I advised her that we should take the car to the repair shop and asked whether she wanted us to switch cars, or she will be okay driving her car. She opted to drive her car, and so with watchful eyes, I followed her closely all the way until we reached the repair shop located in Alexandria towards Fort Belvoir on the Richmond Highway.

I helped Mrs. Pant relay all her information to the shop’s contact person including the insurance information and her phone numbers. I also left my phone numbers with the shop foreman to call me as soon as the repair work got done so I could pick Mrs. Pant to retrieve the car. Afterwards, I drove her back to her apartment and advised her to stay home and stay calm until the car got repaired.

In a little over a week, I received a call first from the Auto body shop, and soon after from Mrs. Pant informing me that the car was ready. I drove to her apartment again, picked her up and dropped her at the shop where she excitedly picked her repaired car and after numerous thanks drove home.

When I returned to the dealership afterwards, there was a be-back customer, Miss. Bekoe, waiting to make a deal on a new Accord EX she had previously test-driven. She informed me that she had been waiting for over an hour and wondered where I had been. To disabuse her mind from any thought of tardiness on my part, I disclosed to Miss Bekoe the reason for my absence at work: My little trip to and from Miss Pant’s apartment, and what I did to assist her recover from her accident.

Mrs. Bekoe asked if it was a habit of mine to help customers to that extent. I answered by stating that I considered my customers as extension of my family adding instances and occasions where I had helped some of them solve issues not relating to their automobiles.

Why do you do that? She asked with a voice laced with curiosity.

To answer her question, I gave Miss Bekoe a short narration of my experiences in life (as is my habit), the challenges I faced when growing up, and how I got rescued on many occasions by good Samaritans. That’s why I try to extend same helping hand to those in dire need especially if they happen to be my customers, I concluded.

Well, Mrs. Bekoe not only bought a car from me but also gave the same advice which I had been given many times:

Mr. Erzuah, why don’t you find someone to help you publish your life story?

I answered her question/suggestion by giving her positive assurances of pursuing what she has suggested, congratulated her on her purchase, and said goodbye to her.

Thus with a confluence of voices encouraging me to tell my story to the world, I decided to finally obey their request, hence the coming into being of this Memoir

Chapter One

Family Background & Primary Education

Having gone through the genesis of my story, let me now direct the reader to my family’s history, and the people who helped to nurture my worldview and perspectives.

I was born at Agona Mankrong, a village in Ghana located about 48 kilometers from the capital, Accra, on July 8th 1964 which was Wednesday, to Madam Comfort Nuro and Mr. Mohammed Erzuah Siam. Being a Wednesday born, I was given the name Kweku. I was also named after my paternal grandfather Nenya Nzima, and further named after my own father Erzuah Siam. With my father having converted from the Catholic faith to Islam, I was given yet another name, Abdul Rahman, to add to my portfolio of names. Thus, my complete name became Abdul Rahman Kweku Nenya Nzima Erzuah Siam. Mentioning all my names became such a tongue-twisting task that at a certain point in time, I unilaterally decided to jettison some of the names and