was pursued by many of the people who lived there, onthat little island, with a consciousness and attention thatexceeded the requirements of the task. It was a taskpursued with the avid determination of desperation. Themeaningfulness bequeathed the task cried of the need fordefinition, a definition of not what it is that they are doing,rather what their purpose to life was, is and going to be. Onthat lonely place, out of time and place, it was a placewhere they sought to give life more than a passing glance,before retreating to the approaching darkness, whereperhaps they will find something that gives peace.
He remembered the assistant headmaster of the famous secondary school he attended in Cape Coast, Mr Bart,reflecting on his path through life "... most of you boys are overeager to be science students, yes, in my days it was no different, the competition was tough, and eventually, I was also one of the chosen few...that was many years ago and hundreds of gallons of coffee and countable hours of sleep. Today, I am an assistant headmaster while some of those who we thought were dunderheads are today heading 'big organizations' and doing well in politics.Maybe if I had also studied political science at the university I could very well be an important government official today, and not just an assistant head . . ."
Words uttered expansively, captured with vivid clarity bysubtle processes in a far away place and recalled with vividclarity these many years later and in so far away a place.Yet still, he may have overlooked a few things in his favour,by dint of being a teacher in a boys school, he occupied ahill top bungalow and inspired great fear in a thousandboys every passing day of the academic year, not only as aresult of his enormous bulk, but he was quick to use the