It has been a week already, yet there is still no word from you and no response to my message. When the good news came that Evening Mail had been honoured for the work we have done on anti-human trafficking, I deliberately shared it with you, hoping, as always, that you would respond, even if only to say “congratulations.” But this time, there was silence.
Since hearing of your passing, I have written and deleted these words countless times, struggling to find the right way to describe this painful loss.
Kofi, when you first called about the need for us to come together and save the deteriorating Birim Bridge, it came purely from your genuine love for Akyem Oda and for humanity. You sought no personal gain. Your only desire was to mobilise young people to rise beyond complaints and work together for the development of our community.
Even before that call, you and I had built a strong friendship, especially during my early days in journalism in Oda. At a time when social media was still evolving and blogging was not yet popular, you were already using platforms like Facebook to project Akyem Oda positively to the world. I remember how I would introduce you as coming from “Oda Media” whenever we attended events together, something our mutual friend, Kwasi Azor, would always laugh about. That was your deep passion for the community.
So, when the idea eventually came for us to unite in the interest of Akyem Oda, I was not surprised. What started as a gathering of like-minded young people driven by love for the community later became a movement. After extensive discussions and several proposed names, we settled on the name AKYEM ODA CONCERNED CITIZENS ASSOCIATION (AKOCCA).
You took the lead in shaping the identity of the group, creating the social media pages, organising the logo, and laying the foundation for what AKOCCA would become. Your office became our meeting point, our planning centre, and the unofficial headquarters of the movement.
Yet, despite your influence and sacrifices, when it was time to elect leaders, you refused to put yourself forward for the position of President, a position all of us would have gladly endorsed you for without contestation. That single act reflected your selflessness. You were comfortable leading from behind, empowering others while quietly carrying the burden of responsibility.
Through your relationship with the venerable Samuel Kyei Boateng, AKOCCA stories frequently found their way into the Daily Graphic, giving visibility to the concerns and aspirations of the people of Oda.
At the time of the first leadership elections, I was away in school, but your belief in my abilities never wavered. Together with Kwasi Azor and Eben, you picked my forms and campaigned strongly for me to become the first elected Public Relations Officer of AKOCCA. Even in my absence, I won overwhelmingly. That alone spoke volumes about your eye for talent, your confidence in people, and your willingness to nurture others.
Over time, AKOCCA became the voice of the developmental needs of Akyem Oda. We may not have been perfect, and perhaps we stepped on a few toes along the way, but no one can deny the impact the association made, and you were one of the brains behind that impact.
Eventually, I stepped aside to focus on my legal education, and you too took a quieter role as you focused on other interests, including politics. Yet your influence within the community never faded.
Your genuine desire to uplift the community, your good heart, selflessness, kindness, and dedication to people will forever be remembered.
But once again, I ask the same painful question I asked when I lost my mother last year: Where are you going, Kofi?
A young and promising soul filled with passion, ideas, talent, skill, and determination, why are you leaving at a time when the community you loved so dearly needs you the most?
Kofi, you and I both know this timing is painful. No explanation feels enough. No words can truly heal the sorrow your passing has left in our hearts.
I wish I could write more, my brother, but my fingers keep trembling and deleting the very words my heart longs to say.
Your absence has left a deep wound, and the silence you leave behind is unbearable.
Fare thee well, Kofi.
May your soul find peaceful rest.
From a brother and a friend,
Kwasi
(As you always called me.)
