The man PAUL KWAKU BAWUAH (Randy Muller) – AK106 (13th October, 1971 - 31st December, 2014) “Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.” - Pope Paul VI Only few pass through life and influence their peers in a positive manner as our brother Kwaku did. There are some like him, who in the throes of adversity, still keep a chin up to inspire others. The past few years have been hell for Kwaku Bawuah; trapped in his body and rendered immobile due to ALS. The most personal of activity was done but with the help of others. Many of us will remember him using a walking stick with a funny gait during the 60th Anniversary durbar at OWASS. Those were the beginnings of the episode of his life that has ended with his passing. Our paths crossed in September, 1983, when an initial 165 of us Aks entered the hallowed hallways of OWASS. He was AK106 and of St. Peter house. His wit and courage, as well as a penchant for a good laugh endeared him among many, especially his seniors. He was always welcome in the commune of the big boys, while many of us were bothered with missing Mum and Dad. He was to stand tall among his mates and peers throughout our days at OWASS. And yes, who will forget that evening in front of the dining hall, when upon a wrong assumption that he was shirking an instruction, a school master, uncharacteristically bullish, let out a punch at Kwaku, and not ending there, followed up with another. What was Kwaku to do? No he did not run. To him, by punching him, this school master, a housemaster,had stepped outside the realm of respect to do what was not expected of him. He punched the master back. Once, twice, and a third. Shame write an epitaph on the face of this school master, who upon being parted from the Form 1 boy, walked in disgrace back to his bungalow. He could never make a formal complaint against Kwaku. Burger Gyau stayed mute. The message had been sent well and clear. Kwaku respected his superiors, but would not suffer abuse without standing up for himself and what he considered right. Throughout his life, this was his standard of engagement. To even the most destitute he gave respect. He was the kind who will play soccer with the area boys, share a tipple once a while with them, and engage in verbal banter about politics and football. When he was robbed at his previous residence at Ashale Botwe, these area boys, constituting a vigilante searched for and found the robbers and recovered everything stolen from his residence. That was the effect Kwaku had on people. In the difficult days past, it took a visit to him to discover the magnitude of his predicament. Speaking to him on phone, many were to assume from the strength of tome of his voice that all was well. Very disarming could he be, to set the minds of those he loved and his peers at ease. I will fight it, he always said. In his heart and mind, as the quickness in his limbs receded, all was well with his soul. This remarkable strength of mind and body requires emulation. This example of courage is the truest mark of a real man, a real Katakyie. On every trip to visit him, Kwaku would ask the visitor to say thank you to Samelia, his beautiful and long suffering wife. She was always by him, and she prayed daily for him. If it was to be the will of God that he stand and walk again, He would have done so through Samelia, we believe. We AKs celebrated Samelia and will forever continue to celebrate her as the epitome of women. She is the standard to measure good and dedicated women. Kwaku was right to thank her profusely throughout his days down with ALS. We say again to Samelia, Thanks, faithful woman. Thank You. Kwaku wanted to make things better for all. In his choice of business, he looked mostly towards making a living out of changing peoples lives, helping bring security into the lives of all. With Prompt Alarms, he got many Akatakyie as clients. The concept was good. Through technology he made it easier for the emergency services to reach emergencies. He sought collaboration with these agencies to help make responses quicker. In a city with a non-existent address system, he developed and promoted means by which fault reporting could be dealt with within a fraction of the time expended at present. Sadly, some took advantage of his ideas, stealing them and packaging them as his own. But he never gave up. He kept going, planning more ingenious projects, even preparing to sacrifice all to help educate the average Joe Bloggs on the street on national issues, being very disconcerted about how politicians abused the trust of the electorate with half truths and falsehoods to gain unfair advantage over their opponents. To his peers and to those he was less acquainted, he preached the acquisition of an independent mind about all things. He drove people to learn hard about things around them, to understand and make up their minds about them, instead of relying on the man in suit or smock to tell him what to think. To him, politics meant true service to country and countryman, and not a preference for a party ideology. In this he stood resolute, and we believe that had he not fallen to ALS, he would have championed a new course of thinking among the general populace. So it is fitting for us to celebrate Kwaku. He was different mentally. He could be trusted. His yes was yes. His no was no. Dear friends, if death is inevitable, why do we stand in fear of it? Why do we grief when it comes and snatches away one of our own? What are we here for? What are we to do that we fail to and ask for more time? None of us knows the count of our days. So why, why should we be saddened? Let us look at our inner selves and ask, what are we here for? We assume we will be alive tomorrow, but in the base of ur hearts we cannot be so sure. As said by Euripides, “No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow” So what then do we do with our today? What have we done with our yesterday? Whatever situation we are in, we will one day die. Our journey here will be over. We will descend into the bowels of the earth. Memories about us will live on, good or bad, but best of all, good. Let us not “demean life by standing in awe of death”. Death may be the greatest of all human blessings. ~Socrates We should celebrate Kwaku for what he stood for in life, not for his death. We all have take sometime to to re-examine our lives and ask ourselves, what legacy we leave. Do we care? Or do we just wish to pass through? What do we value in others that we seek to nurture? Or are we only concerned about our own corner to be brightened? From Kwakus life, the words of Mignon McLaughlin stand true, that: The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive — perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine. Let us look deep, and think long and hard about our lives. If we can find something positive that we can impart to others, let us do it now. Let us impact our surroundings. Some before us did that, and out of their sacrifice we find meaning to our dreams and desires. What will we leave? Kwaku is gone, but he left something – a love for all, an inspiring discipline of mind, and a true appreciation of gratitude. These, we all should learn from. May he rest in perfect peace, AMEN
Posted on: Sat, 10 Jan 2015 20:31:48 +0000