Gbɛfalɔ shi nɛɛgbɛ ooya
Atatu ewo, ojeŋŋ he kwraa
Ooya shia lo, Ooya shia lo
Ooya shia, Ooya Ataa we
Gbɛfalɔ shi nɛɛgbɛ ooya
Atatu ewo, ojeŋŋ he kwraa
The week before Owula Kojo passed, I invited him to be a guest on a weekly radio show, Bohu Obanyɛ Ofee, which I present every Tuesday on Radio Gadangme,
I had basked in his glory for so long that this was a unique opportunity for me to showcase and celebrate his achievements. We spoke at length on Sunday in preparation for the programme. On Tuesday, the day of the show, I received a text from the producer that the show could not go on as Herman had passed. There were several messages from my cousin Joyce confirming this shocking news. Herman was irreplaceable and it was too late to find another guest for that evening. The shock of his death and the predicament in which we found ourselves reduced us to present a hurriedly put-together programme as a tribute to his memory. That did not do justice to his achievements and even as I write this personal tribute, I am struggling to recount some of the many conversations we had over the years about anything and everything. For me, he remains a rare soul who evokes the nostalgia of a rich family life that he managed to blaze by turning his ideas and vision in his work into new technology within a globalised world. Owula Kojo never forgot the values instilled in him; he valued people and tried to keep the traditions of an extended family alive, converting many friends into family and connecting several people.
In the 1980s London, it was easy for me to be a mentor uncle to him, he listened well. He had many ideas about what he wanted to do in Ghana after his studies in America. I advised him to find a job and he found one as a manager in a factory where he would put into practice what he had learnt in a Western context before going on to face the challenges of our nation. When he got involved in computers, I encouraged him to undertake various courses in programming and to try and implement an application before he hit Ghana. So it was with pride that we discussed the first programme that he had written Gbefalor for a travel agent in the UK. On the rare occasions that I came back to Ghana, he found time to ferry me around to discuss how he was doing with the business and to show me examples of his tropicalised software that was more appropriate technology. These were great achievements recalling the days when argued about the efficacy of WordPerfect over Amipro with my late business partner, Maxine.
Our discussions mainly settled on how far Ghana can be taken in the drive for modernisation and whether indeed the “leapfrogging” that we dream about in Africa will become a reality when we are at the head of the information and knowledge age to work wonders in Big Data and Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning modules. He certainly was doing his bit in that, at a time when computers were on every desk and mobile phones and electronic gadgets were accessible to the elderly and children alike and so to that extent, he was at the forefront as a Leader who would make things happen. He was always curious about my experiences working with computers in Ghana when card and tape storage systems were transitioning into Disk storage Systems. I always explained that he was lucky. I wrote programs in COBOL and RPG2, helped run government payroll on a card system, and supervised the Water and Sewerage installation which was a card system. We agreed, however, that one of the important ways of this “leapfrogging” was to create unique content for our specific purposes. I was proud that Owula Kojo worked on projects like the online shopping centre BlackStar 53 and Afrikan Echoes and chose African names for his software.
I am also proud that the joyful bundle of energy I first saw in Bruce Road tied to the Mould House version of his grandmother, MamaSister’s apron strings, grew up to be such a lovely young man, imbibing all the values of traditional family life despite the move towards the nuclear family system in our country. I remember taking him and his cousin to football matches to watch my team Accra Great Olympics in my attempt to convert them into becoming fellow supporters. I remember how he wanted to learn how to play the guitar when everyone was learning to play the piano.
In London, his love of our culture endeared him to me. In the late 1980s, Brixton had the best Kenkey in London, so we often had Kenkey for lunch whenever he came by my office. He also looked forward to celebrating the annual Homowo festivities and enjoying Kpokpoi for his renewal.
When Sadia agreed to marry him, I called on my cousin Alice to help with all the traditional marriage arrangements and bridge the gap between the Krio and the Ga ceremonies. At the reception he wanted African drums to celebrate their union.
His love for people made him an incredibly fine young man. He was always eager to bring people together, connect with people and make himself available to mentor others. He loved people and made friends easily. He did these things because he was well tutored in the old ways of sister helping sister, friend helping friend and for me, that accounts for and sums up his huge success and why we will miss him so much.
Let us not forget that he was also moulded by his Family, one that gave him the freedom to do what he wanted. The investment that Sister Akuokor and Bra Nii Tettey made in him paid off and all who mourn him today will testify that his humble affable nature drew people to him.
My condolences to his wife Sadia, his children Nii Tettey and Naa Densua, and the grandchildren who will one day discover and applaud their grandfather’s valuable contribution to African technology in the grand scheme.
Kpoo, Kpoo, Kpoo! Gbele eba tswa wɔ ojo!
Owula Kojo, Yaa Wo Ojogbaŋŋ
Uncle AD – Croydon London
