Features
Growing up…

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Two weeks ago today, I was in my Holy Village of Anyako to celebrate the life of my uncle, Leo Midodzi Demanya. He came directly after my mother and took me and my siblings under his wings after our Mother died while we were still in school. His passing was a blow to everyone in spite of the fact that he was 96.

Having grown up at Anyako, my uncle’s funeral brought to me a new vista of understanding and appreciating growing up there. It was a celebration never witnessed; attendance was massive in spite of COVID protocols. The lives that Uncle Leo impacted were huge, according to testimonies.
I have been to many funerals, festivities and other events, but none brought almost all my relatives, classmates and friends together the way my uncle’s funeral did. It brought me nostalgia I never felt before. I met my cousins with whom I played ampe and hide-and-seek back in the day on moonlit nights, disturbing the old folks with our screaming and extreme happiness.
My grandpa, Amevuvor Demanya, would shout at us to keep quiet, but we took that as part of the fun and continued enjoying being children. Occasionally, Grandpa would sneak behind us and spray us with a pail of water, which would keep us quiet for a moment or two and we got back to being naughty. Today, as I need more peace and quiet, it hurts me for what I contributed in putting the old man through.
I lived in an enclave called Afeyeme, which had an open space that served as our playground. Next to the Demanya family home was that of Jiagge, followed by Adjasoo, Aflakpui, Fugah, Adzika, Kumasa and then Segbefia in a circular shape. You can only imagine what it was like when children from all these homes congregated on the open space. It was a childhood like no other and we had no care in the world when we were at play. We were all not of the same age group though. After all, monkeys play according to size, no?
In my estimation, half of our number is dead and gone. I was the only boy who was excellent at ampe. And it was fun beating my female cousins except one. Naomi would beat anyone under the sun at ampe. I cannot remember if after sweating from all the jumping I had the presence of mind to take a bath. I guess falling into an exhausted sleep was the tonic I needed.
During weekends we would go fishing in the Keta Lagoon, the big boys doing a better job of it than us small ones. Swimming in the lagoon was one favourite pastime. Other times, we went to set traps for rats in the cemeteries a mile away or catch birds. Sundays saw us in church to avoid the cane on our backs next day at school.
When the Lagoon overflowed its banks in 1963/64, the southern third of our house was under water. On occasions I would wade in the water, catch some fish and grill them for lunch before setting off for school, especially around noon. This was because the local Catholic school was under water and they were made to run shifts with our school.
At the funeral, I met just a few of my classmates and we did a rollcall of our mates. Mathew Attipoe died as did Awotor Gawuga, Legbedze, Helegbe, Dzotefe, Gladys Avemee, Margo Agbedor, Felix Korkoryie and others. The thought of having lost these mates made me feel lonely and alone at the same time. My classmates are always a part of me. I regard them as family. To lose any is not a good feeling for me. If people meet in the other world, what would they be thinking or saying? “Segbefia and others are still back there, sweating under the sun and buying fuel at ten cedis a litre.”?
Prosper Kafui Senaya is very much alive as do Oscar Dovlo, siblings Emmanuel and Godson Nyatuame, Christian Asempa, Atsu Forfoe and a few others we could recollect. Agbashi Woanya could not remember I was her classmate.
Some of my mates have never returned to Anyako since we completed school and no one knows where they are. A few boys and girls joined us in Middle School from the island of Seva, southeast of Anyako. I remember Harry Fiawotso, Brandina Sosu, Setsoafia, Amegbor, Hukporti and Daniel Avorgbedor, now a professor of music.
The Seva folks were good at basket weaving and other craft. Avorgbedor was one brilliant chap who gave us Anyako boys like Asempa, Senaya and me hell in academic performance. He never had the voice for singing so it came as a surprise when he became a music professor. I would visit my Seva mates; their parents would order them to pluck coconut for me to drink. By the time lunch was ready, my stomach was already distended from coconut water.
It was immense pride to have your mates visit and parents were eager to play host. We had so much to eat and talk about, young as we were. And we tried to do our best in school so as not to disappoint our parents. Because I was the only boy among eleven girls in the Demanya home, the pressure was greater on me to prove my mettle. I must not be feminised. And I did not disappoint.
Everyone was everybody’s keeper. Any elderly person had the right to discipline any wayward kid and then report back to their parents or teachers. It was a way of ensuring that children grew up into responsible adults. Because of the history of the suffering of our people during their migration, very little room was allowed for deviant behaviour.
Growing up in Anyako was not only fun; it was a period of learning to live among equals, learning to live with adults, learning to be of service, learning the culture and tradition of our people; and above all, learning the language.
Writer’s email address:
akofa45@yahoo.com
Features
International character of Ghanaman and more

The average modern Gold Coaster born and bred in Sikaman is an adventurous creature. Go to any part of the world and you’ll find Ghanaman diligently slugging it out either in the snow or in hot sweltering weather, earning a decent living.
Go to Guinea and see Ghanaman in the garb of a herbalist, curing the sick of various ailments. He makes the Guinean understand that not all diseases are caused by James Lucifer alias Jimmy Satan. On the contrary, most diseases are caused by kooko which can even attack the human nose and turn it upside down.
That kooko is also the cause of poverty and the internal bleeding of personal back-pocket economies. And that kooko can be cured using the chemistry underlying Sikaman herbal medicine which has been blessed by the gods of Larteh.
And before Ghanaman starts dispensing his herbal concoctions, he must attract the passing crowd with some Sıkaman-originated choreography, akin to a combination of adowa and agbadza, such that the dancer can easily dislocate a shoulder and start crying for his mother.
When the crowd is enough to form a quorum, Ghanaman must perform magic as a side-attraction, and proceed to sell his drugs. The drugs are genuinely made from potent herbs which the Pharmacy Board of Sikaman says it has no confidence in. Believe me, Ghanaian herbalists are practising in neighbouring countries like Guinea, Cote d’Ivoire, Sierra Leone and Benin, while we are discouraging them from practising in Sikaman.
Go to Las Palmas and see Ghanaman as a fisherman. He sails on Korean-owned boats and is forced to eat garlic and raw tuna for radiant health. The garlic is also supposed to protect him against witches. But sometimes, he is not good bedfellows with some Korean crew members, and once in a while a fight breaks out.
The typical Korean is a Kung Fu expert and before displaying a golden dragon data. He must first terrify Ghanaman with a Korean dance which consists of wild arms and leg throwing. But Ghanaman is usually not daunted. Why has he been eating cancer kenkey all years without developing cancer? It mean is a superhuman capable of countering Kun fu side-kicks to the ribs.
Anyhow Ghanaman’s most potent arsenal lies in his fists. If he is a southpaw, it mean left fist is probably insured and can cause damage. When Ghanaman lands a cassava blow and it lands on a Korean chest, it has the effect of a cruise missile. If there is no ceasefire a funeral cannot be ruled out.
Greenland
Go to Alaska and find Ghanaman there. Greenland, Iceland, Brazil, Argentina, Madagascar, everywhere and you’ll find him. He has become an international citizen and is generally lauded for his hardwork, sincerity and honesty.
However, some bad nuts are also condemned and despised.
The world and all its parts and corners are for the human race, and anyone can choose to live anywhere and earn a decent living so long as he doesn’t misconduct himself or become a social misfit and a law unto himself.
Sıkaman for instance accepts foreigners, and we are so liberal that people just come in through our borders and we welcome them with the best palmwine in town and goat light soup. Who cares about passports and visas? Our hospitality is, as it were legendary.
So we have Liberians, Nigerians, Sierra Leoneans, Togolese, Europeans, Americans, Scandinavians and Koreans in Sikaman. And some of them have misinterpreted our overzealous accommodation to mean “foolishness” and are misconducting themselves.
The newspapers carry stories of some unscrupulous Nigerians stealing, defrauding and collaborating with their Sikaman counterparts to rob people. You’ll find some good and law-abiding Liberians around but some other Liberians are in the business of fraud, robbery, money printing, money doubling, anything criminal.
Ghanaian hospitality can no longer be extended to such people. I do not think Ghanaians will be treated kindly either, when they misbehave anywhere in the world. Those who come from outside with the intention of bringing down their evil deeds and to practise them here professionally must be getting ready because Ghanaians are getting fed up with the menace.
These days, you’ll find strange people following you as soon as you emerge from a bank. If you are not careful, they’ll wrestle your briefcase from you and speed away in a waiting taxi.
Someone was just saying that many foreign criminals are flocking to Ghana because in their countries, they are enable to operate either because they are being looked for by the police for offences committed or fear instant justice at the hands of mobs. Ghanaians, it is said, are humanitarian in dealing with criminals.
Well, in some African countries, a thief who is being chased runs directly to the police station in his own interest and begs the officer at the counter to lock him up. Otherwise he’ll be lynched or be burnt to death. In Ghana, it is the opposite. The thieves run far away from the cop stations.
The criminals must reform and stay peacefully in Sikaman or quit. No court case!
This article was first published on Saturday September 5, 1998
Features
The architecture of existence: How we live and die
The human condition is defined by two absolute, biological bookends: the commencement of complex cellular animation and its ultimate, irreversible cessation.
For centuries, medicine treated life and death as strictly separate states. Today, modern pathology and molecular biology reveal a more profound truth: the mechanisms that allow us to live are the exact same mechanisms that dictate how we die.
Understanding this relationship is no longer just a philosophical pursuit. It is a clinical necessity for managing public health in the 21st century.
Part I: How we live – The mechanics of animation
At its core, biological life is a continuous, high-stakes battle against entropy (the natural tendency of systems to degrade into disorder). To maintain form, consciousness, and function, the human body relies on three fundamental pillars:
1. Cellular respiration and energy production
Every second of human life is powered by the conversion of oxygen and glucose into Adenosine Triphosphate (ATP), the universal energy currency of our cells. This process occurs within the mitochondria.
Without a constant supply of ATP, the microscopic pumps that maintain electrical gradients across our cell membranes fail, causing cellular collapse within minutes.
2. Homeostasis: The balancing act
To survive, the internal environment of the body must remain incredibly stable, regardless of external chaos. This balancing act, known as homeostasis, regulates:
Blood pH: Strictly maintained between 7.35 and 7.45.
Core Temperature: Ideally kept around 37°C (98.6°F).
Electrolyte Balance: Precise ratios of sodium, potassium, and calcium that allow nerves to fire and muscles to contract.
3. The Autonomic Nervous System (ANS)
The ANS acts as the invisible conductor of life, split into two complementary branches:
Part II: How we die – The path of cessation
Death is rarely a singular event; it is a progressive biological cascade. Whether caused by old age, chronic illness, or sudden trauma, the final pathways of mortality generally follow a predictable trajectory.
1. The cellular horizon: Senescence and Apoptosis
Every time a human cell divides, the protective caps at the ends of its chromosomes-telomeres-shorten. Eventually, telomeres become so depleted that the cell can no longer divide safely. It enters senescence (a state of permanent arrest) or triggers apoptosis (programmed cell death). This gradual, systemic loss of cellular renewal is the underlying engine of aging.
2. The clinical cascade of somatic death
When the body can no longer maintain homeostasis, somatic death (the death of the organism as a whole) begins. This occurs in a distinct sequence:
1
Clinical Death
Zero to four minutes
The heart stops pumping blood, and respiration ceases. While breathing and circulation have ended, the body’s tissues still contain residual oxygen and cellular energy reserves. At this stage, resuscitation is often still possible.
2
Brain Death (Infarction)
Four to six minutes
Deprived of fresh oxygenated blood, the brain’s highly sensitive neurons begin to starve. Lacking ATP, the brain cells lose their electrical charge, swell, and begin to burst. Permanent, irreversible neurological damage occurs within minutes.
3
Biological Death
Hours to days
The organs fail entirely. Without central control or blood flow, individual cells throughout the body consume their final energy reserves. Enzymes that once aided digestion begin to break down the body’s own tissues from the inside out, a process known as autolysis.
Part III: The modern collision of life and death
In the modern era, the boundary between how we live and how we die has blurred. Historically, humanity died primarily from infectious diseases and acute trauma. Today, global mortality is dominated by non-communicable, chronic lifestyle diseases.
Modern Pathology: How we live (the cause) how we die (the result)
Cardiovascular disease, chronic stress, poor diet, and lack of sleep keep the sympathetic nervous system hyper-activated, damaging blood vessels .Occlusion of coronary arteries leads to myocardial infarction (heart attack) or ischemic stroke.
Metabolic syndrome over nutrition and physical inactivity overwhelm cellular mitochondria, leading to systemic insulin resistance. Multi-organ failure, chronic kidney disease, and severe vascular complications.
Neurodegenerative Disorders Chronic systemic inflammation and sleep deprivation prevent the brain from clearing metabolic waste. Gradual loss of synaptic connections, leading to dementia and the eventual loss of basic autonomic functions.
Conclusion: The unified theory of health
Ultimately, how we live directly shapes the path of how we die. The micro-choices of daily existence-how we manage emotional stress, the quality of our rest, our communal connections, and our nutrition-either preserve the integrity of our homeostatic systems or accelerate their decline.
True medical advancement is shifting away from merely extending the final, frail stages of biological death. Instead, the focus is turning toward optimising our living years-ensuring that the intricate, beautiful machinery of human animation runs smoothly until its natural, quiet conclusion.
By Robert Ekow Grimmond-Thompson




