One day, I walked into the White House as a guest.
It felt almost like entering a different country.After several security and document checks, I was finally admitted and issued a special metal badge, which I had to wear at all times.
We were taken to a conference room to wait for the President, and prepped on where to stand and what to say.
A few minutes later, President Obama sauntered in, as if it were any ordinary day.
He shook hands with each of us, asked about our various projects, and then we were ushered into the Rose Garden for a photograph.
I still have not had that photograph printed and framed.
Yet, with each passing day, as I see it on my phone, it looks increasingly photoshopped.
I wonder how many people actually believe I am the man in the photograph. I am.
Totimekope
I am from Totimekope, a small village at Ada Foah with the population of a small hospital.
I hardly go there now, but as I presented my passport to White House staff, I wondered if I was the first to do this, from the Kope.
Now the likelihood of a repeat visit to that momentous home seems more and more distant each day… and after what happened to Zelensky…
I am almost sure of this impossibility.
But I wonder whether I should ever have the audacity to accept the impossible.
Not after all that has happened to me.
After all, I am the sickly child who became a paediatric neurosurgeon.I am the child from New Hope School in Korle Bu who became a Spelling Bee judge.
I am the Achimota School chorister who now has gospel albums on iTunes.
I am the medical officer from Battor who is now faculty at multiple medical schools.
Twenty years ago, I could barely hold a scalpel; now I take brain tumours out through people’s noses. What right do I have to detract from heights yet unreached?
Words and dreams
Words are to dreams what a skeleton is to the human body.
All that we aspire to for ourselves has a basic framework powered by words recording the paths of our role models.
Presidents of countries have libraries commemorating them in the countries that recognise this truth: the future can only be better than the past if birthed from the memoirs of those who ruled the past and excelled.
I run a private neurosurgery practice now, and my journey is an actualisation of dreams.
I still remember my days in New Hope School in Korle Bu… a little child who wanted to be a doctor one day.
I discovered the treasure of reading in that small school.
I read everything, and réalised that the better I wrote, the better I spoke.
I soon discovered the impact of the written word when I was given roles in school plays.
Seeing the words of Shakespeare cause the whole crowd to laugh at Speech Day made a big impression.
I read about Achimota School in a history book, so I wanted to go there.
I became head of the Choir and Head of Cadet Corps during my time there, so I discovered the impact of projecting my voice and teamwork.
In university, I started the first literary radio programme and ran it for seven years.
It would run for another 20 years.
Now as a neurosurgeon, I run a weekly radio programme on health, sing in a choir, blog on health issues… and I am a proud judge on National Spelling Bee.
We are what we read, and our purpose will always thrive on our dreams.
What better nourishment for our dreams than reading?
What better channel for communal impact than public speaking?
What a great country we have when young ladies and gentlemen are empowered to push forward and achieve all their dreams.
Please… gentlemen… read oh…
In my journey, I have seen the impact of words, but my actualisation of purpose has always been to impact the public.
That is the path of all purpose, to impact community.
