Prof. Thomas Mba Akabzaa was selflessness incarnate.
He was, and he still is, one of the reasons countless people, to whom he brought massive joy, love his native Bongo District.
More than 100 years ago, the 26th president of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt, famously said:
People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.
President Roosevelt’s standpoint resonates with some of us in the Third World who would prefer a commoner who has not gone beyond Awogeya Primary School in Bolgatanga on the academic ladder but helps the needy to a wealthy Harvard professor who helps no one.
Prof. Akabzaa was (I hate to use ‘was’ because it hurts me to admit this man is no more) a seasoned energy specialist and a mine expert. And he was not poor. But his makeup (or nature) was a combination of knowledge, wealth, generosity, honesty and humility.
One of the values the rich people who shut their doors on hungry people and the well-educated people who look down on the less-privileged should emulate or adopt from Prof. Akabzaa is selflessness— by serving their communities with humility and without expecting anything in return.
I met Prof. Akabzaa only once. I had heard a lot about his good nature from many people prior to that encounter in December, 2017, at his Dua residence in Bongo. I had heard he was so simple and modest that he was often mistaken at first sight for a security guard or a gardener in his own mansion by visitors.
A basket weaver once narrated that he was directed to see the professor some years ago to help him secure a job for his graduate son. He had never seen the professor anywhere before.
When he arrived at the professor’s house in Bongo, he saw a few people around, each one either busy with a domestic activity or having a conversation with someone. He approached one of them, a bare-chested man who was throwing millets from his fist to some desperate fowls surrounding him.
After greetings, the basket weaver said he had come to see Prof. Akabzaa. The bare-chested man offered him a seat and walked into the mansion as ordinarily as a housekeeper or a servant would do. In less than a minute, he came back with a bottle of water and served the visitor.
While the basket weaver held the bottle to his mouth, drinking and waiting to see Prof. Akabzaa emerge from the mansion, the bare-chested man brought a stool close to him and sat on it. Apparently, the professor was not at home and the message would have to be left behind with the bare-chested man for him.
As the visitor slowly lowered the bottle from his mouth half-empty, he prayed in his heart that the message he was going to leave behind with the man sitting in front of him would get to the professor.
But to the visitor’s utter surprise, Prof. Akabzaa was around— and the bare-chested man sitting on the stool before him was him! The basket weaver was overwhelmed to hear the Chief Director of Ghana’s Ministry of Energy assure him from that stool that his graduate son would get a befitting job in Accra.
The visitor left the house overwhelmed but somehow still not fully convinced that he really had just met a professor chief director bare-chested and simple just like that.
And the basket weaver remained so (overwhelmed and half-convinced) until his son got the job. His self-doubt faded out completely as he also heard more stories later from many people about the professor’s humility and how he had helped several young people to gain employment and supported their careers to grow.
When I met Prof. Akabzaa in December, 2017, he was organising an end-of-year party at his house for the entire Dua community.
I was taken to the community by one of his nephews, Prosper Anaba, to cover some presentations the professor was scheduled to make as part of the end-of-year banquet to some government workers stationed in Dua for their dedication to the welfare of the community.
I learnt he had been organising the feast every year for the community, providing all kinds of foods and drinks in abundance for everyone, poor or privileged.
The party was always a true-life display of the tremendously heartwarming banquets we imagine and read about in Disney fairy-tale collections or watch in movies.
Bongo, for me, is the most beautiful part of the Upper East region for no other reason than the majestic or imposing rocks you see nicely arranged by an invisible architect across the district and the tree-covered hills that greet you as you head into the peaceful capital.
It is so beautiful to behold the windswept landscape, particularly in the rainy season, where the rocks sit in grandeur on a carpet of grass swept clean by generous winds and squirrels leap happily around with their bushy tails held out behind.
But where Prof. Akabzaa chose to pitch his Dua mansion looks more naturally magnificent and awesomely gratifying. You should see it.
As I watched Prof. Akabzaa from afar at the fairytale end-of-year party ground, I saw in him humility incarnate.
There were people who had been tasked to serve the guests— young and elderly, rich and poor— any food or drink they wanted; but Prof. Akabzaa joined the casual waiters and waitresses, serving everybody regardless of their age or status, and clearly not playing to the gallery or doing so for the camera but for humanity.
Simplicity was simply his nature. He did not look different from any of the deprived people who came to feast at his house. That was the first day we spoke. That was also the last day we spoke. And that was the last time I saw him.
He struggled early in life and after he made it in life, he did not forget his community. And until he left this world, he did not ignore anyone he saw struggling.
His well-lived life, his unequalled legacy, should be a good lesson particularly to the rich who build Jericho walls around their houses with airtight gates to enjoy their wealth alone with their families, the powerful who only use their positions to oppress, the well-connected who use their voices and links to block other people’s opportunities, the well-educated who only use their qualifications to brag and the big shots who use their social heights to look down on the underprivileged or those who are low in status.
The selfless professor will now rest from what he was born to do— serving humanity. He was born to make people happy— and for that purpose he lived. He was one of the pillars holding Bongo. With a volume of humility only rivalled by his fellow Bongo natives Prof. Ephraim Nsoh Avea and Hon. Albert Abongo, Prof. Akabzaa served as a bridge, connecting the jobless to gainful employment, bringing sustenance to the hungry and linking everyone in grief to relief.
I believe he is the biggest giver ever God gave to Bongo. He remains arguably the greatest household name in the district. He was everybody’s father. He was almost the soul of Bongo, if not even entirely so. The void created, following his departure from the scene, possibly will last for decades to come.
The loss is enormous for everyone. His family, his native community and all those who feel this heavy loss can draw solace from the truth that he is still here with us, living through the lives of the many people he tirelessly supported regardless of who they were and where they came from.
Even if the district would build some facilities or monuments in his honour and rename some amenities after him to immortalise him, he deserves more. But the greatest tribute the people whose lives he touched can pay to him, I think, is to love his children and his family even more than he unconditionally did for others while he was alive.
I end this tribute with one of his quotes, recorded during my first-encounter interview with him in 2017:
The concern of this region in particular is the fact that we think the youth need to be more responsible than they are and that we, the elderly folks, also need to nurture them through the right way.
The only way we can get out of poverty is to take our destiny into our own hands.
The story about that fairytale end-of-year party, published by the EIB Network on Wednesday, 3 January 2018, and from which the above quote is taken, can be found via this link: https://starrfm.com.gh/u-er-community-party-ends-akabzaas-career/.
Rest in Humanity and Humility, Man of the People!
Source: Edward Adeti/Media Without Borders/mwbonline/Ghana
