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Growing up… (Part 2)
As happens in many societies, some of my classmates from Anyako fell on hard times. The day after I arrived for my uncle’s funeral, I met one of them. She had only a loin cloth covering her lower parts. She carried an aluminium bowl in her armpit, her elbow in the bowl with her hand holding it at the rim. We recognised each other instantly, calling out our names. Her upper torso looked rather masculine which made my heart sink.
She was far older than me in school and is now a fishmonger of sort. I thought of how someone in their mid-seventies can be rehabilitated. After parting with a grateful smile for a few cedis in her palm, I knew she was not alone; a part of me was in that situation. I knew my mates would feel the same way too.
Many of my mates became accountants, bankers, professors, educationists and more. Those we have lost track of might be in many other fields, I reckon.
Our teachers were a major part of our growing up. They were revered by the townsfolk. If you met a teacher in town you removed your footwear before greeting them. Fortunately, I didn’t have to do that because I put on my first flip-flop after I turned 14. We went everywhere barefoot, though Anyako was full of oyster shells in the ground. We had cuts of all shapes but the salt in the soil might have served as antibiotics to prevent tetanus.
Some teachers were quite friendly while others took discipline to dizzying heights. They had the cane in hand at the ready for any act of indiscipline on our part. Under all these we enjoyed growing up. We were hardly ever hungry, thanks to aunties and elder cousins who had something at the ready always.
Some of us became choristers in Church. We loved the singing because it gave us joy, pride and leverage. Someone donated brass musical instruments to our school, so I graduated from the flute to these instruments as a bandboy. I tried the trumpet, cornet, the horn and the tuba, but settled on the tuba because of its bass sound. There was one saxophone in the mix but methinks our music teacher did not know how to handle it so it lay unused till I left for secondary school.
When I was to be confirmed in the Church in 1966 and tried my new shoes on for the first time, I did not know how to walk in them. Was I to step forward with the heels or toes? This alone took more practise to get the feel than anything I have tried.
Until Ghana changed its currency from Pounds to Cedis, I never saw a pound note. I only knew the look in textbooks. I saw a 10-shilling note once when I accompanied a cousin to the market one day. My grandmother, like others, went to the market with coins and came back home with basketfuls of goodies to last till the next market day four days later.
But something happened, which has lived in my mind till date. It was in 1963 when a woman who prepared and sold yakayake, a local food derived from cassava granules, beat gong-gong in the town for three consecutive days that someone had stolen her one pound and called on the thief to humbly return her money. Apparently, she bought the cassava dough on credit and paid back after selling her yakayake. One pound was an awful lot of money and so it was unfathomable to owe one’s suppliers that amount.
Though a suspect was spotted in the woman’s place at the time of the theft, he vehemently denied taking the money. This poor woman threatened to invoke the god of thunder to seek justice if by a certain deadline she did not get her money back. Incidentally, this was in August when it was raining heavily, which eventually caused flooding of the Lagoon.
During one heavy rainstorm, I heard the loudest three claps of thunder, each 90 seconds from the other. I heard my grandmother say, “This thunder is unusual; it surely might have caused havoc somewhere.” Apparently, the suspect in the one pound theft case had gone fishing with some colleagues. At the first lightning, he had a schock and asked his colleagues to hold him, which they did.
The second yanked him from the grips of his friends in the canoe and dropped him over 50 metres away into the water. The third split his chest open, killing him instantly. Some rituals were performed before his body was put on a wooden plank and dragged away for burial.
This was the talk of the town for many months. If you were at Anyako at this time and would want to have sticky fingers, that was entirely up to you. Another happened at Konu, the eastern tip of Amyako, when lightning struck a woman. This had nothing to do with theft; she was carrying an aluminium bowl during a thunderstorm. Aluminium, I am told, is a good conductor of electricity.
My personal fear of lightning lingered on until 1986 when I was forced by circumstance to confront that fear. I was driving from Accra to Anyako after work. Then somewhere between Tsokpoli and Dawa the rain clouds opened up and the accompanying lightning was incessant. A niece was in the passenger seat and I did not have to show fear. Could it be adrenaline that gave me a bravado I never knew existed? Or just facing my fear head-on? Maybe both. To stop the car would have been suicidal, given the fact that the area could flood and drag the car away.
With the windshield wipers at full blast and hazard lights on, we braved the weather and got home to Anyako safely.
Konu lies to the east of Anyako township. Growing up in Anyako for the six-year period did not see me in that part more than half a dozen times, though my grand uncle, Tormadogo Segbefia, married Konu women and moved to settle there. The residents of Konu had a peculiar twang to the way they spoke the language so we could determine who they were once they spoke. I don’t know if it was deliberate because I don’t hear that any longer. Today, my Holy village is referred to as Anyako-Konu.
My people were mainly fishers, kente weavers and boatmen. I had a few neighbours who taught me the art of weaving but I could not match the dexterity with which they wove the kente patterns. The boatmen ferried passengers across the eight miles to Keta, which was a trading post until tidal waves caused its decline. It is now quicker driving the circuitous routes to Keta than trying by boat or canoe.
Weaving is virtually absent and the lagoon does not yield as much fish as it used to even up till about 20 years ago. To revive the fishing business and get it back to its glory means the Keta Lagoon has to be dredged and measures put in place to forestall silting. The depth of the water could enhance fishing all-year round. The last time I checked, it would cost $98 million to do. It’s quite expensive but when it is done, economic activities will boom in the area for a long time to come. All it takes is the political will and the will of the chiefs of the area to support it.
I might have been born in Koforidua, lived mostly there and in Accra, but as an Anyako boy, my village is of a sentimental value to me. There is no place like home.
Writer’s email address: akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
The driver stopped the vehicle at the gate of the large, fenced property along the Nsawam Highway, and Kakraba stepped out to meet the several workers who had gathered to wait for him.
He greeted them and went straight to the point.
“Gentlemen, I am glad to see that you have almost completed the clearing of the land. I’m happy to report that we have concluded all arrangements with Nana Serebour, and construction of the palace will start in a few days.
“I will need you to go and level the ground, and then come back to start this project. Some workers from a construction company will come and join us.
“My plan is to build twenty houses in four months. Then we will do twenty more until we reach two hundred.
“I am relying on you to help me deliver good-quality work to satisfy our clients and, as I have already indicated to you, I will reward you for your work.”
After an hour’s discussion, he closed the meeting and moved to drive away. Wofa Yaw drew closer.
“Director, can you please spare me five minutes? I would like to discuss a small issue.”
“Why, Wofa Yaw? Your wife has threatened to leave you?”
“No, Director. My wife will never leave me. This concerns a young niece of mine.”
“I hope it’s something I can help with. Please sit in the car and let me hear you.”
“Boss, my niece, Beesiwa, is a polytechnic graduate, very beautiful and with very good character.
“Unfortunately, her parents virtually forced her into a relationship with an idiot based in the US, which affected her badly. She has now recovered from that experience and, Boss, I am respectfully asking if you would find a job for her.
“I promise you that you will never regret it.”
“Well, Wofa Yaw, let me meet her and speak with her. I may be able to help, maybe not in the way you expect, but let me meet her.
“I will not be back here for another week, but I will be at the office throughout next week. You can come with her.”
On Monday morning, Wofa Yaw and Beesiwa were seated at the office by nine o’clock. Three young ladies welcomed them warmly, offered them soft drinks and assured them that Kakraba would be there shortly.
They then returned to their desks and sat behind computers with large screens displaying various building designs.
Kakraba walked in and greeted them warmly. After chatting briefly with the three ladies, he ushered Wofa Yaw and Beesiwa into his office.
“Director, this is my niece, Beesiwa. I mentioned her to you when you came to Nsawam.”
“Yes, indeed. Madam Beesiwa, you are very beautiful, just as your uncle said. Wofa Yaw is my colleague.
“We have just started a building project that will take about three to four years. He mentioned that you have a small problem, so I said I would like to meet you and see how I can help.
“So, Beesiwa, please tell me a little about yourself.”
Beesiwa described her childhood, her school experience, her brief work at the bank and the nasty episode with Sammy Abrokwa, which shattered her peaceful life. She also explained how she had been recovering from the experience.
“I am really sorry to hear this,” Kakraba said. “Now, here is what we are going to do.
“We are a small but very busy company. The three ladies out there spend most of the day on site and come back to report on their work in the morning.
“I have three main projects. The big one is an estate project in Nsawam, where your uncle is one of my main colleagues. I need a personal assistant who can take care of my activities, especially when I am not in town.
“Now, we will have to start with trust. Based on what I know about Wofa Yaw, and based on what you yourself have told me, I think we can start on a sound basis.
“So, Wofa Yaw will take you to my home. You can move into one of the four guest rooms.”
“Sir, I have taken some computer lessons, and I have even done graphics and web design,” Beesiwa said.
“Fantastic! I will give you a good phone and a laptop. I will also arrange computer lessons for you.”
“Now, Wofa Yaw, take her home. My sister, Kuukuwa, will meet you and show you around, and then you can return to Koforidua.
“When would you like to start work?”
“Sir, I would like to start today, but I would need to go and bring my things.”
“No problem. Take a taxi to my house, meet my sister, and let me know what you decide.”
Later that day, Kakraba and the three ladies met with some bank officials to conclude the sale of the three buildings at Adabraka.
They closed at five-thirty and, after rewarding the ladies for their hard work, Kakraba got home just after dark.
He was surprised to find Kuukuwa and Beesiwa sitting at the table enjoying supper.
“What’s happening here?” he asked. “Beesiwa, I thought you would return to Koforidua.”
“She changed her mind,” Kuukuwa said. “We went to the mall and bought a few things for her. Then we came back to cook. She has made some nice changes to your bedroom and cooked a couple of interesting dishes. Sit down; we will serve you.”
“Well, I certainly can’t refuse that. It’s been a busy day.
“So, what’s the plan now? Will Beesiwa go to Koforidua tomorrow, gather her things together and come down?”
“No, I will stay here for a while,” Beesiwa replied. “Kuukuwa bought me the things I need, so I may go back next week. I’m ready to start work. What would you like me to start with?”
“Well, you can come to the office tomorrow morning, meet the three girls and get a feel for what we do.
“Since you are living here, at least for now, we can discuss the plans for the next few weeks.
“Sometimes there are gaps when I travel up north. You can take care of things from now. I think the girls would like having someone like you around.”
By Ekow de Heer
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A frequent question following breast surgery is whether human tissue possesses the regenerative capacity to restore an excised organ.
From a strict physiological standpoint, a completely removed breast cannot regrow. Unlike certain organisms that can regenerate complex limbs or organs, adult human tissues—particularly specialised glandular structures—lack the cellular machinery required to rebuild an entire organ after its total surgical removal.
Instead, the body heals the surgical site through processes such as scar tissue formation and re-epithelialisation rather than complete cellular regeneration.
What a mastectomy actually removes
To understand why natural tissue regeneration does not occur, it is important to examine the surgical scope of a mastectomy.
Depending on the type of procedure and the medical reason for surgery, a mastectomy may involve the removal of:
Glandular architecture: The milk-producing lobules and ducts that form the functional core of the mammary gland.
Adipose tissue: The fatty tissue that contributes to breast volume, projection and contour.
Other breast tissue: The extent of tissue removal varies according to the type of mastectomy and the need to achieve appropriate surgical clearance.
Because specialised breast structures are physically removed, the body does not rebuild a complete mammary gland. Instead, healing occurs through tissue repair and scar formation.
Distinguishing residual tissue from “regrowth”
Patients or observers may notice changes in the chest area after surgery, sometimes leading to misconceptions about tissue regeneration.
Skin- and nipple-sparing procedures
Modern breast surgery may preserve the outer skin envelope or, in selected cases, the nipple-areola complex. Small amounts of breast tissue may remain depending on the surgical technique. Any changes in remaining tissue due to hormonal fluctuations represent residual tissue responding to the body, rather than the regrowth of a completely removed breast.
Adipose accumulation
Weight gain after surgery can increase the amount of subcutaneous fat across the chest wall. However, this is part of general body fat distribution and does not represent the regeneration of a mammary gland.
Modern reconstructive pathways
Because a completely removed breast does not naturally regenerate, modern medicine offers reconstructive options aimed at restoring physical symmetry, contour and body image.
The two main approaches are implant-based reconstruction and autologous, or tissue-based, reconstruction.
Implant-based reconstruction
Implant-based reconstruction uses synthetic medical devices, typically filled with silicone gel or saline, to rebuild the breast mound following a mastectomy.
The two-stage process: This approach may begin with the placement of a temporary tissue expander to gradually create space and stretch the surrounding tissues. A later procedure may then be performed to place a permanent implant.
Recovery profile: Implant-based reconstruction generally involves a shorter initial surgery and recovery period compared with procedures that require tissue to be harvested from another part of the body.
Long-term considerations: Breast implants are not lifetime devices and require ongoing medical monitoring. Some patients may need additional procedures over time because of complications or changes in the implant or surrounding tissue.
Autologous or tissue-based reconstruction
Autologous reconstruction uses the patient’s own living tissue to create a new breast mound. Tissue may be transferred from another part of the body, commonly the lower abdomen, using procedures such as a DIEP flap.
Natural look and feel: Because the reconstruction uses living tissue, it can provide a natural warmth, texture and softness. The tissue may also change with the patient’s body weight over time.
Long-term durability: Once healing is complete, autologous reconstruction can provide a long-lasting result without the need to replace an implant. However, some patients may still require further procedures.
Complex surgery: This option usually involves a longer operation and recovery period. In microsurgical procedures, surgeons may need to reconnect tiny blood vessels to establish blood flow to the transferred tissue.
Direct comparison
When choosing between these two reconstructive pathways, patients and their surgical teams must consider several physical, medical and lifestyle factors.
Surgical burden: Implant surgery is generally less invasive, while flap reconstruction involves surgery at both the chest and the donor site.
Foreign material versus native tissue: Implants involve the use of a medical device, while autologous reconstruction uses the patient’s own tissue.
Recovery: The recovery timelines and rehabilitation requirements differ significantly between the two procedures.
Recovery and physical rehabilitation
Recovering from breast reconstruction requires patience, careful pacing and, in some cases, structured physical rehabilitation.
Because implant-based and autologous tissue-flap procedures involve different surgical techniques, their healing timelines and physical therapy milestones can vary considerably.
Understanding these differences is important for patients considering reconstruction, as the choice involves more than restoring physical appearance. It also requires careful consideration of recovery, long-term monitoring, lifestyle and individual medical needs.
Part 2 will examine recovery timelines, physical therapy milestones and other factors patients should consider when choosing between reconstructive options.
By Robert Ekow Grimmond-Thompson
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