35years Of Struggle: Is My Story Worth Telling?

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So in July 1983, I was born somewhere in Ghana. I spent my early life in the village farming, hunting, tapping palm wine, burning charcoal; selling firewood, charcoal, palm wine, gari, and fruits. Animals I normally killed in my hurting expedition was for domestic use.

Back in memory, 1999. When I was a great hunter in the village of Leklebi Duga. Standing by me is my elder sister, my apprentice in the hunting business.
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Brief: I became a “professional hunter” in September 1996 when I was 13years old. I spent most of my nights and days of weekends in the tick forest of Duga mountains – an area called Asortodzi. My parents wondered if I was really a human being as I kill many wild animals on my hunting expedition that even my father could not kill before….

I will say for a fact that I did not consider the environment I lived as a hindrance to my education. With great support from my mother and revenue from my farms and selling of the above items, I financed my education from primary 4 to the university.

The person in the picture below is me. I was taking an oath of office as the School Prefect (SP) of Leklebi Secondary School (LESEC) in 2004.

When I was joining LESEC in November 2001, my JSS mates (mates I completed Leklebi Duga EP JSS with) were in SSS 3.
Whiles my name was among the newly admitted students for the 2001/02 academic year and posted on the school’s notice board, I was working as a laborer (Kpormkpor) on at the same school compound at a Teachers Bangalow site. Anytime my JSS mates were on break, they asked me so many questions and especially why my name was on the admission list and on the notice board yet I was not coming to the school but rather engaged in that hard labor….I became tired of the questions and frustrated so anytime the school was on break, I have to hide inside some of the trenches I was digging for the foundation of the teachers’ bungalow. I was being paid daily. After 2 to 3 weeks I was able to get some money, sold some yams and gari…. Low and behold, I raised enough money for my school uniform and admission fees…..I got admitted to LESEC.

Emmanuel Korsi Senyo taking oath of office as School Prefect

In 2004, I was elected as the School Prefect of the school in the same school I was once a laborer… On the day of my swearing-in ceremony, the shore I wore belongs to my senior, Manford Delase Dzodzodzi, the short belongs to my senior Desmond Odamtey, those blue sokes belongs to my school father, Bello Dzormeku, the shirt and the belt belonged to me….

After, SSS in 2004, I became a House Boy at Kokomlemle in Accra where I was being paid for cleaning the house, cooking, washing etc…I left that job when my madam, Achiaa, was abusing me verbally, asks the security man to search me at the gate when am going to church or going to buy foodstuff for the kitchen at the Malam Atta Market with the notion that I am a poor boy and I could possibly steal her things and money. She is a very rich woman. I lived in the 9 bedrooms and a 2bedrooms boys’ quarters with her. She would insist I use my right hand with a sponge to wash inside the pot of her water closet (Toilet)….it was too much for me to contain, so after months, I left.

Shortly after, in July 2005, I was informed that I have been offered free admission to the Kwame Nkrumah Univesity of Science and Technology to pursue a degree program under Prof. Kwesi Andam’s (the then VC of KNUST) Less Endowed Students Free Admission Programme…….

At the first instant, I concluded I was going to “Heaven” where after completing the university, I could take good care of my mother and siblings but little did I know the 4 Years in Heaven was actually a HELL on earth for me.

I had to borrow GHc300 (3million old cedis) from my Cousin in for the university in a very miraculous situation. I buy a Samsung mobile phone (GHc50) from another Cousin son (Francis) on credit but could not pay him as I promised. I could not even use the phone because I had no money to buy the SIM card. I had sold it to another friend at the university who could also not pay me and the phone was even stolen from him too.

At a point, depending on sugar, salt solutions, and going for colleagues’ leftovers at Katanga Hall canteen mostly around 1 am so I could survive. Anytime I am writing exams, all I was interested in is writing anything the leave the exams hall early so I could go look for pawpaw in the bushes.

I return to my village at Somanya during my second vacation and my Curson, whose phone I bought on credit caused my arrest because I had not paid him his money.

When we got to the Police Station at Odumase Krobo, he told the Police that I am an armed robber who came to steal their money. They have been looking for me and fortunately, he came across me that morning and have decided to bring me to the station. In my version of the story, I told the police that even before coming to the police station, we had had a family meeting that morning in presence of my grandmother and the other cousin I borrow the Ghc300 from and it was concluded that since I could not pay him the money, then he should take me to the police.

The Police Officer, took me out of the counter back and abused my Cousin verbally and drove him away. The police then asked me to go home but I must escape from a possible physical attack from my cousin ……So I escaped and was at an exile on KNUST campus till I finished my National Service in 2010….

At the university, I was appointed Welfare Chairman of the SRC and served on many SRC committees and other university boards….

I started an agriculture business in my 3rd year in the university, established a peace-building NGO during my National Services, the Event Management and IT businesses. I went bankrupt in July 5, 2012. In August 2012, I started an online magazine to help me tell my story if no one will do for me…..

Today as I write, I’m a private citizen of Ghana and celebrating my birthday….

(The second picture is me (in White Fubu) and H.E Thabo Mbeki in Tanzania, and Director of Institute of Peace, Ethiopia – May 2018)

to be continued