The Aquinas Chapel: Where a Muslim event is 'overseen' by Jesus, Allahu Akbar!

At the Cantonments Post-Junior High Pre-Varsity (a.k.a. St. Thomas Aquinas Senior Secondary School), we gathered at different places for different reasons. The classroom, resource labs, school and bush canteen, the field, the car park, library and what have you.

But in this piece, I wish to take a closer look at the school chapel which among others served the following purposes: mass, morning and special assembly, Student Representative Council (SRC) meetings plus other gatherings.

Within the context of other gatherings: Two main events click, a skit on hygiene sponsored by Sunlight lit the chapel as Daniel De Long, Titus Nanoh, Shadrach, Aboagye and the drama club got us cracking up. Then there was the HIV/AIDS program where an infected woman told her story.

One of the main features of the chapel is the sculpture of a crucified Jesus Christ hanging atop the front – occupying central territory and overlooking the dais. If you entered the chapel via the main door or through the sacristy you could still not miss the sight of Holy Mary’s son.

The Aquinas Muslim Students Association – which I served as General Secretary of in the final year, had our handing over ceremony planned after largely a successful tenure under President Swallah Abdul Razak and other executives.

All was set for the event – all but the venue to host the over dozen schools and top dignitaries invited. After deliberations over a suitable venue, we ended up with the chapel as the best location – Swallah was a good friend of Chaplain Father Ohene – we were soon sorted.

The episode of Father Ohene, Swallah and his Junior Graphic article is a story in and of itself to be told another day – Insha Allah.

Invitations dispatched, confirmations made, program line-up set, refreshment fixed et al. just then someone asked about Jesus Christ. ‘He can, in fact, must excuse us,’ he retorted. ‘Any issues if he stays with us?’ another person asked, then there was a small chat about Jesus.

In the end, the request to have Jesus temporarily leave his spot failed. Jesus was to be our guest and he was. Come the D-day, from his privileged position Jesus looked on as we went through the motions of the event.

There in the chapel, we prayed for Muhammad (May Allah exalt his mention), we responded ‘Allahu Akbar’ when the prompt ‘At-Taqbir’ was uttered multiple times. We listened to the Quran being read, we listened keenly as Arabic verses and terminology were displayed.

We did all this as Jesus Christ hang on the wall with his ‘trademark’ look on occupants of the chapel at any point in time. Jesus’ serenity combine that with our peaceful conduct and in the end, we were cocksure that Aquinas accommodated law-abiding people irrespective.

READ ALSO: A Muslim-Roman Catholic and my ‘holy’ days at St. Thomas Aquinas

We had Sheikh Muzu from Al-Muntada speak on an issue, Sheikh Arimiyao Shuaib was around as was Mrs. Juliana Ben-Eghan and our AMSA patron Mrs. Nadia. Our chair for the day was one Alhaji from New Town – whose name I can’t immediately recall – sadly.

Whiles at it, let me hail the AMSA president I met as a first-year student. Senior Abdul Rahim ‘Ramzy’ was such a crucial force in policing us back in the day. He would not mind preventing you from praying if it will create the least inconvenience to the collective.
I saw him sack someone for arriving at the mosque with barely minutes to the end of second break. I wondered for a moment why and let it slide. Long after he had completed, I remember Fr. Batsa cautioning a student for disobeying regulations despite right to worship.

Aquinas almost always had water and that made ablution very conducive. If the closest tap did not have it, no water at the library also, Father’s house would most definitely have it. The days of satchet water also kicked in albeit very rarely.

A sad narrative is that we still haven’t gotten to cement a prayer grounds. Successive administrations have found ingenious ways to let us know that Cantonment Vatican will not allow a Mecca adjacent it – but still we push, one day, one day – it shall come to pass – give me an ‘Amen.’

Talk of one day, one day if I get plenty money, I will drastically escalate the idea of a conference facility, if you want an Assembly Hall for St. Thomas Aquinas Senior High School.

For Father (Ohene) so loved AMSA (Muslims,) that he gave us his holy bespoke chapel
That whoever resides in it, will not be barred but can say ‘Allahu Akbar’ therein. Aquinas Chapter 3, verse 2003.

You may read other Aquinas-related blog posts

Aquinas 'perceptions': ‘Wicked’ Mary Boat vs. the lovely one I encountered

Aquinas boys and commute hustle: Danquah, 37, Circle, Tema station etc.

Aquinas in ‘Temple Run’ mode: Illegal route, prisons, wall jumps

God is NOT an old tom, 'heaven' has never been at Cantonments

Ask Mugabe: A man who fails to know quit time is nudged in extra time

21.01.2018: On the occasion of two-months since Robert Gabriel Mugabe was "uprooted" as president. I publish an article I wrote way back. 

When last did you hear an African leader resign? Not in the last 37 years – an oh, that’s as long as uncle Bob had been around. But even Zimbabweans were shocked by the turn of events and the circumstances under which Robert Gabriel Mugabe literally overthrew himself.

Citizens of the southern African country would be pardoned if they sing a rendition of Akon’s song that has the lyrics ‘whoever thought that I would see this day.’ Those at home and in sojourn least expected it even if they so wished it. But it came to pass.

But kindly indulge me as I quote from an article in the BBC Focus on Africa magazine of January – March 2008. The author Mutheseli Moyo said: “Those in the urban areas may cause a governance problem for the president, which could only be defused by the military taking over the reins of government.

“But this could be the get-out-of-jail card Mugabe needs as the army top brass are his loyalists and can be relied upon for his protection even if he is deposed by a popular uprising.” And so the then 84-year-old held on with army loyalty till 93, then they respectfully nudged him out.

Political theorists have widely put it down to the failure of the world’s oldest political leader to know when he had to step out, bow out if you want. Blame has severally been apportioned with his wife Grace repeatedly jabbed as being the main source of his ‘downfall.’

A position that feminists have slammed. The crust of their argument, why can’t Mugabe be held for his decisions but that a ‘poor’ Grace be blamed. Well, my passive response: nobody forced Grace to say she was already president in her capacity as First Lady, whatever that meant.

So in the end, as the article of a decade ago prophesied, it took the army where several elections had failed, to effect political change in Zimbabwe. The man Mugabe fired as deputy in less than a month was sitting in his seat. He, Mugabe, had been handed a backseat.

The army stepped in after warning Mugabe to tread cautiously with his politics. Mugabe won’t respond but top allies will dare the army and fire salvos. Less than 24 hours later. Takeover targeted at criminals around Mugabe, the old man and family are safe.

For the first time in 37 years, the people that held him had not dropped him but had chosen to undress him politically. Then the population weighed in with massive protests. The army gave their blessings and the political establishment also opted to pull off his clothes.

An impeachment loomed. Mugabe could have the ignominy of being a president who lost power via legislative push out. Under the circumstances and after a little over a week holding out on a negotiated exit, he finally signed a resignation letter.

The political dynamics of every country is different as is the political trajectory of any leader. There are those that see Mugabe as a liberator. To others, he is an oppressor. Like any man, his good sides and bad sides are there to be seen.

The old man simply failed for whatever reason to leave in a more dignified manner especially at a time his health was failing him. All the signs looked like only a burial will spell his end. But alas, he lived to see the events of November 2017.

He picked this path and sure has to walk it. He was under house arrest according to sources even though the army allowed him out for a graduation ceremony during the impasse. The last time Mugabe was sighted was in Singapore for a health check, as for ex-president Grace….

The old boy undoubtedly had a very soft landing compared to what would ordinarily have been the case in a political crisis involving an army in full force. He forced himself to be benched, a kind of benching where he cannot return to the field. Prrrrrrrrrrr!

Man's not hot

IQRA Center organizes First Aid Training for staff [Photos]

Basic first aid is defined as assessments and interventions that can be performed with minimal or no medical equipment. A “First-Aider” or first aid provider is defined as someone with formal training in first aid.

On December 28th 2017 and January 6th 2018, Iqra Educational Centre organized a First Aid training course for all its staff, ie. managers, teachers, caregivers, security personnel, cooks, janitors etc. The venue for both training sessions was our main branch at Dzorwulu-Alajo link.

Over eighty (80) Iqra staff, from its five branches, took part in the training which involved both theoretical and practical exercises. The training was handled by officials from the Ghana Red Cross Society.

The Ghana Red Cross Society-First Aid Instructor explaining some concepts to staff.

Some of the topics treated included: how to check a patient's level of consciousness and airway control, how to place a person in the recovery position and cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR).

The motivation for organising the training was the realization of Iqra management that most of our staff did not know how to give first-aid. So the aim was to teach more staff how to save someone’s life, should it ever become necessary.

We thus encourage other organizations to ensure that their employees know first-aid. Staff who successfully complete the first-aid training receive certification that they have participated.

         

             

ABOUT IQRA

Iqra Centre is a school of choice for all Muslims. We aim at providing a blend of both formal and Islamic education to our students, in a manner that will equip them with the necessary knowledge and skills to practice Islam as a way of life and be successful in this world and the hereafter.

The management, staff, curriculum and the environment are structured and conditioned to unearth the beautiful potentials of our children. The school’s operations and programs are inspired by the teachings of the Islamic faith.

Our philosophy is to help each individual to develop concepts, disciplines and principles relative to their Islamic identity while providing them the opportunities to excel in formal education principles.

 Some more photos from the training session

                                           

Masjid Tales (3) Afflicted but committed - The one handed 'caller to prayer'

If an ailment affects your body, head for the hospital
Likewise If an ailment  affects your soul, head to the masjid.
May Allah increase us in khayr and with barakah.

Started with the above quote in the first part of this series on the (the blind man), used it as a wrap up in part two (the partially paralyzed man). Here in the final installment, it got a start.

The call to prayer (Azaan) is crucial for us as Muslims. The call is as important as the caller (Muazzin - Arabic / Laadan - Hausa). The call is a service of notice to the faithful, that prayer time is near and a second version when it's time to offer the prayer.

Praying together (Jam'i) is a means of bonding as much as it eliminates all considerations that seek to class us outside prayer - age, colour, status, tribe, nationality etc. Except for gender where it's clear each must stay in a specific place.

So the man who call to prayer (Muezzin) is a revered man - for his voice and for the task he thus discharges. Over in Congo Pointe Noire, our mosque is a two-storey building, the main microphone used for the azaan is stationed on the first floor.

I'd come to know three distinct voices associated with the call - but never bothered about the faces. For all it was worth, I knew those guys accrued loads of good for their deeds.

One day, as I was about to ascend the stairs, I saw a man helping another to put his footwear in a bag meant for the purpose. No one is allowed to wear their footwear whiles within the mosque.

The owner of the footwear took the sack in the same hand that was clutching a book - may be a Quran. I eventually went ahead to the second floor and waited. Before long this same man took a stand behind the microphone - he was the caller to prayer.

Normally, the callers cover both ears with their hands while at it. Curiously, this man hand one hand and his long-sleeved left hand was tucked into his pocket. It wasn't after he had finished and was standing that it dawned on me that he had one hand - the right hand. He was an amputee.

He was afflicted, rather. He was in the class of the partially paralyzed and the other blind man but had a tremendously admirable commitment on the face of what I saw. I pray that Allah continually strengthens him, the others and us all in all things good. Ameeen.

These stories have taught me commitment in the midst of affliction. I've been around for roughly two years, it shouldn't be surprising if someone has been there longer but has not bothered to observe this keenly. Again, it wouldn't be - at all surprising if someone else has superior observations than me.

Long and short of it: when you find yourself around people look out for those that you are "better" than health wise and in other areas - and ceaselessly thank Allah for who you are, how you are and what you have. Al hamdu lil Laah = All praise and thanks is due to Allah.

Until I show up with another episode from my second home, French-speaking Central African country of Republic of Congo, au revoir and a bientôt.

The Burma Camp days: B Class, bee invasion, Akrasi, Amankwah & Asihene

Okay, here I go again. Having almost successfully recalled names of my classmates back in 2000, I thought it’d be fun to try the adjoining class. We were not Burma Camp Basic School’s A class for nothing, they were indeed a B class – as in firmly stuck behind us.

But of course as many ruffians and rasta people we had amongst us, they had many more. It was almost as if the school had deliberately decided to populate the class with Labadi boys and girls.

The commaraderie was always there in any case, I recall we used to share certain textbooks and my oh my, those times when the classes were merged for a reason or the other, everyone had a favourite they wanted to go sit with. I think mine was Richard Odoi.

So let me attempt to explain why I picked three B class personalities in my headline. Emmanuel Akrasi, Michael Amankwah and Anita Asihene – Some people in our class used to ‘mock’ her as ‘Asikyeame’ – but they won’t confess – I know them!

Sorry to cut in, shall I finish the bee invasion bit please. That day, what started out as a normal school day turned on its head and classes ended abruptly. A bee reportedly killed in a urinal and the colony of bees broke loose. No special prosecutor will calm them down.

There was literally an evacuation as staff and students sought refuge away from the premises – I stand to be corrected the situation affected Kotoka to some extent. Let me hail the ever laughing Cynthia Odei for saving my little sister Shariffa.

I forgot I had a sister in the heat of the invasion, later on I’d find her sheltered under a cloth in the care of Cynthia. Just then, we met our then Social Studies teacher Mr. Adolph Tsakpoe who had been badly stung by the bees.

I also recall how a group of boys lit fire – only God knows from where they got fire to attempt confronting the bees. In the end, it took military intervention to ‘appease’ the bees and to restore normalcy.

Now to the 3As; Akrasi, he was almost a member of our class. He closely associated with quite a number of A colleagues on two levels – the foody and the transport. The Country Kitchen food he brought saved lives as did the car that was supposed to pick him after school.

Michael Amankwah, the dimunitive football sage, he was once an A student, how and when he too transferred to B, I cannot tell. But some of us almost saw him as very much a part of the A set up.

And now, to Anita, by miles the shinning star of the B class, she landed the position of Girls Prefect very deservedly partnering Courage – a perfect couple, if you sk me. She was of the Labadi fraternity but did not at any point look it.

One would think she lived in the Cantonments area but she would often make the journey by foot back home with the La party chitchatting along the paved Burma Camp quarters and through the bushes leading to Soul Clinic junction and into the La municipality.   

The other lady I really must mention is Cecilia (either Sowatey or Asabea). Why? Well, she was my ‘co-host’ for school assembly during the week we were ‘on duty.’ Me on the right side of the stairs and she to the left.

Playback of the routine: Straighten your lines – arms forward stretched – hands down – eyes close – the Lords prayer – eyes open – the National Anthem – the pledge – announcements – marching song (usually from the shrill voiced Josephine in B class).

I so much recall the Friday afternoon closing assembly when we sing ‘wo dientse wo shikpon ne.’ After the sectional results had been read and we dismissed the gathering. I looked over at the particular Cecilia and thought – girl, we did a good job of this! Cecilia, I hail you.

Now my attempted roll call of the B ‘bees’ – Ladies first and of course Cecilias (Sowatey, Asabea and Vorgdzogber), Anita Asihene, Nathalina Quao, Josephine, Bless Ahiakonu, Mary, Barbara, Beatrice, Mawusi Breni, Gertrude and precious cutie Pearl Lamptey (the late).

Boys: Baba Bawa, Lyndon Teye Okutu, Richard Nii Yemofio, Abbey, Kelly Quarshie, Asare, Akrasi, Amankwah, Samuel Aggrey, George Appiah, Odartey, Mark and military minded and mannered Edem Ahadome.

As at form 3, their class was the last on the block and they were indeed the last, we were in a comfortable seat with our A grade. Their very existence was because we were around – I have said it, B people, carry a cane around whenever we meet ‘whip’ me. For now I dey Congo.

You may read my motivation to write this piece in the earlier blog post. Before Aquinas: 9 years in Burma Camp Basic School was lit! 

Before Aquinas: 9 years in Burma Camp Basic School was lit

From the Cantonments-based St. Thomas Aquinas Senior High School to the British High Commission neighbouring Ghana Institute of Journalism. Aquinas is so fondly touted for what it stood for and what it birthed in us.

But it was a step to reach another level just as it took an earlier step to land in Cantonments for the three-year-course. That brings me to the club I left before "signing on" for or being signed by St. Thomas Aquinas – Burma Camp Basic School.

I think my old boy is the only person that can explain the real reason why of all the Accra New Town (ANT) and Kotobabi schools, he was bent on enrolling us in the secured walls of Burma Camp. But he is no more, dead men don’t talk – may Allah have mercy on his soul.

Five out of the six of us passed through Burma Camp. Mariam and Sherif were at Kotoka whiles Fuleira, myself and Sheriffa hustled at Complex – as Burma Camp Basic School was then known.

Where we had three set of school fees written on the far left of the blackboard. The lowest being for the ‘military’ followed by the ‘MOD – Ministry of Defense’ and then people like us - the bloody ‘civilians.’

So our old boy opted to pay way more than the ANT and Kotobabi schools charged just so we could be educated at Burma Camp. Add the cost of daily commute and other expenses but we NEVER lacked, we were pretty much okay.

Over the years, we had three broad blocks of students relative to place of residence. Those students who lived in Burma Camp quite sizeable. Those that lived at Labadi – the typical Ga rattling gang that walked to and from school and those of us that lived away from these two places.

Those were without doubt days that one was at their carefree best. One needed an exam or Maths test to get us running around. The maths classes were a cause for worry. Mr Kwarteng, Mr Osei and Bra Ansah – form one to three maths tutors in that order were a handful by all standards.

Mr Abutiate for form 1 French with whips over Transafrique was a stressful mess but for Monsieur Tackie’s intervention in form 2 & 3. That man smoothened and polished the hatred some of us had for French.

How can I forget our local language hustles. Ga was the flat price to pay at the time, the La people were in the lead – I dare say orally. In the end, Anita Owusu Kwartemaa requested Akuapem Twi paper during BECE and was granted even though we all registered for Ga.

From soldier market to Nicolson park, from the post office to the school market – that was merged at a point. From the bookshop to the Congo (or was it Zongo) junction and from Douala hospital to ‘checkpoint,’ those years were laden with memories – personal and collective.

For me, seeing that I cut all nine years moving from one class into the other over the years till the final exit in 2000 is exciting. Ms Martey (my class 4 teacher), Mr Collins (my class 5 teacher) and Mr Gyangba (my class 6 teacher) are a trio I’d hardly ever forget.

I also remember Mr Pepe (Cultural studies), Mr Anku (Pre Tech Skills), Mr Nazagdem (Agric), Mrs Ntim (English), not forgetting Uncle Ekow (the general cleaner for the three schools) – Burma Camp, Kotoka and Garisson.

And the friends from that expedition, those that we started out with and those that joined us midstream. It was a thrilling journey that merits replays. At the risk of being accused of discrimination I'd attempt to mention members of my particular row.

Anita Owusu Kwartemaa
Ramson Ansah (late)
Freda Appiah
Cynthia Odei
Samuel Odame Ampey
Rachel Nyarko
Pearl Mensah
Barani Shaban
Martha Hanson
Millicent Dadzie
Patience (not Ametepe)
Edwin Ennison

Incidentally, Burma Camp remains that stage of my education that I’d give anything to return to. And oh lest I forget, our motto – ‘Aspiration and Achievement.’ What better way to end this. I’m out.

Not so fast: Aside, my row, the Zongo row also clicks well (first names only) - Delphina, Danso, Kate, Nyanyo, Akurantie, Martey (smoke it!), Benjamin (Obrafuor), Sadat (Abochie), Sadat (Akishi), Jesse, Nii Lante, Henry.

As for the two middle rows, it's complicated. They can sort themselves out. Perry worried Esther with Adaasa, Shalline's dipo rites trended sometime sake of the pictures she brought, Anthony sat at the back of his row with who - I can't recall. Elvis had a tortoise in his desk. Daniel and his biology things - it followed him. "Headie" Courage beat Edem Ahadome in school prefect polls - voted with counters.

Dennis drew any and everything, Odette Adjei hated pre-tech for all it was worth. Jamilatu Anafo, we shared a similarity - our elder sisters shared a class - Fuleira Shaban and Hawa Anafo. The nurse of today feared cane too much, it was her injection. And oh Ameerah Baba, how can I forget Ameerah - I haven't.

SP Leslie's Ukedamag brother - was he the school prefect that never was? Koshie Kuwornoo, Ernestina, Celestina, Kaa Dzanie, Officer Fiagbedzi, the Cantonments couple of Josephine Archer and Jerry Oppong, Nana Asante Gyamfi, Patience Ametepe, Albert Ocran Peterson (Belusconi) and those I dared forget to mention - blame it on old age. Burma Camp was a place to be and it was lit way back.

Key UPDATE: Fuseini Bodombie comes to mind, that is if he indeed completed with us - pardon my memory lapse and then another of the Burma Camp girls at the time, surely now 'Lady' Diana Odonkor, now makes the list.