A Half-Century of A-Class Education – Part 2

Much of what constitutes this series is purely anecdotal, in the sense that it is wholly made up of the experiential recollections of one alumnus-writer of PERSCO upon whom the latter legendary institution registered a profound impact. In that sense, therefore, my portrayal of St. Peter's as, perhaps, the best junior academy in Ghana, at least while this writer attended the same, may likely and, perhaps, aptly be impugned by some readers as purely chimerical. For that matter, I have decided to provide readers with the equally poignant and, perhaps, even superlative, if also not more articulate, opinion on PERSCO by another alumnus, the quite renowned Ghanaian criminologist and barrister-at-law, Dr. Kenneth A. Attafuah, who had, as he personally cast it, the epic privilege of attending Sixth Form at St. Peter's Secondary School.

In his keynote, Golden Jubilee presentation to the school in May 2007, Dr. Attafuah rather picturesquely described PERSCO as “a little university nestled peacefully in the vestal bosom of the Kwahu Ridge” (see “Fifity Years of Secondary Education in Ghana: Reflections from Criminological and Human Rights Perspectives”). I chanced upon the latter address on the magnificent website of the school - @perscoba.com. And quite significantly, the distinguished graduate of Mighty JAPASS (Jachie-Pramso Secondary School) further observes: “St. Peter's attracted the best brains from all over Ghana, and even beyond. My classmates came from among other schools, St. Francis Xavier Secondary School at Jirapa, from Navrongo Secondary School, St. Martin de Porres, Tamale Secondary School, Sunyani Secondary School, Agogo State, Prempeh College, T. I. Ahmadyya, Sekondi College, Pope John's, St. Augustine's, Adisadel, Mfanstipim, LaBone, GSTS, Achimota, St. Thomas Acquinas, Bishop Herman, Mawuli, Jasikan and Worawora Secondary School, and mighty JAPASS.”

Of course, any number of alumni of any of the preceding “Who's Who” among elite Ghanaian secondary academies could readily make a similar observation. Still, the preceding observation is far from pedestrian, especially when one factors in the fact of PERSCO being among the youngest of the elite Ghanaian secondary academies. Couple the foregoing statement with the fact of its relatively remote location “in the vestal bosom of the Kwahu Ridge,” and the prospective student's overriding desire for a first-rate education being the sole and primary draw becomes ineluctable.

Indeed, to appreciate just a little bit about PERSCO's remote location, it bears recalling the fact that even as late as 1976, when yours truly was admitted, it took, at the earliest, three days for both the Ghanaian Times and the Daily Graphic, the country's leading daily newspapers of record, as it were, to arrive on the desk of the school's librarian, and then be stamped with PERSCO's imprimatur before being released into general circulation. And the rather curious, but quite understandable, in retrospect, fact that transistor radio sets were strictly prohibited among the student population, except for the senior prefects and, I believe, Sixth-Formers, obviously made such yawning absence reek of the patently paradoxical. For here we were in search of the most qualitative education that only the most elite of the country's secondary academies could provide, only to be quizzically told that we couldn't own even the most basic form of information receivers available.

In sum, vis-à-vis information technology, or rather instant communication technology, PERSCO students might have just as well inhabited the now-proscribed planet of Pluto. Still, in the Spartan cultural environment in which we found ourselves, it made perfect sense for Father Josef Glatzel, our then-East German headmaster, to ban radio sets on campus and in dormitories. After all, as a Mecca of pre-university learning, the last thing that any of us future scientists and leaders needed was the sort of avoidable distraction that owning even an Akasanoma transistor radio could engender. Besides, couldn't we depend on our far better-informed tutors – all of whom owned radio sets and a few of whom even owned television sets – to inform us about momentous happenings without the barb-wired and gated walls of PERSCO? And that was exactly what we did; not that any of us really had a choice in this matter.

Interestingly, in certain quaint ways, whatever we appeared to materially lack, by way of information technology, for example, was readily made up for by an academically conducive milieu – what with resplendently walled puddles of alligators (for St. Peter's was one of the exceptionally few secondary schools in the country that owned alligators); cages of ruby-butt baboons and an Olympic-size swimming pool, to boot! We even had one national swimming champion, by the name of Emil Opare, whom almost every young woman who attended the annual collegiate athletic meets from our neighboring schools seemed to hanker after. And Emil Opare seemed to relish every bit of such amorous attention. Legend had it that Emil, as he was popularly and affectionately known, had learned to swim at the Volta International School, located on the site of the world-famous Akosombo Dam, where his father worked as an engineer or in some such enviable capacity.

Opare looked every bit of a celebrity; and he seemed to play the part with poise and a theatrical air of arrogance which, curiously, was somewhat deftly mitigated by his sunny affability. Inside the classroom or lecture theater, however, Opare was just another John Doe. Still, being a Peter's Boy simply meant this aspect of his life would be readily glossed over by the sterling reputation of PERSCO, the Kwahu University. Opare was also rumored to have clinched a countless number of laurels in swimming at the national level; and, indeed, from time to time when he would be absent from school, it was rumored that he was on a momentous national swimming assignment; sometimes, it was even said to be a sub-regional assignment. Still, the fact that Ghana seemed never to quite favorably compete against rival nations like Nigeria, made the legend surrounding Opare all the more tentative and remote to me, if not outright unremarkable. Even so, I still had some admiration for my immediate-senior student.

Unfortunately, I never got to see Emil Opare compete at any worthwhile level, besides an occasional dip in the school's swimming pool with a coterie of friends and hangers-on whom he appeared to keep very close to himself. I was never among his circle of friends, so I could only maintain the curious interest of a window-shopper where his affairs were concerned. I believe Emil was in Porres House, adjacent to my good, old Augustine House. There was absolutely no need, whatsoever, for me to ingratiate myself with him, as soon I also came to be regarded as a star-studded celebrity myself; it was right about 1979, when I began to publicly read my poetry at Kumasi's Anokyekrom of the Ghana National Cultural Center. I would also shortly, thereafter, be featured on a radio program called “Variety Ahoy!” carried on the airwaves of the Commercial Service of the Ghana Broadcasting Corporation (GBC-2) and hosted by Mr. Godwin Avenorgbor. Later on, while a National-Service tutor of English at the Osu Presbyterian Secondary School (SENDO), Mr. Avenorgbor (a.k.a. Big Goddy) would also feature me on a television program that he hosted from the GBC Senior-Staff Club House, across the street from the historic Flagstaff House. Indeed, it was via the same program that the remarkable gospel singer, Mr. Ola Williams, gained his broad national appeal. I would also be subsequently featured with the legendary artist, educator and dramatist, Mr. Saka Acquaye on the Carl Agyeman-Bannerman-hosted radio program called “Solid Black!”

PERSCO's swimming pool never quite functioned in the way and manner that a first-rate swimming pool at a first-rate academy ought to have functioned. To be certain, it had virtually stopped functioning in any active, or worthwhile, capacity about two years before I was admitted to the school, legend had it, although the prospectus of the school continued to brag about PERSCO's Olympic-size swimming pool. Nobody seemed to know exactly why the pool was in virtual desuetude; all I remember is that while yours truly attended PERSCO, the pool was almost always half-filled with duff, or yellowed, fallen tree leaves, for it was secreted amidst a heavily wooded area on the campus. As to why school authorities had decided to situate the swimming pool in such an inconvenient location, was never clear to me. Neither did it seem to matter, anyhow, since I was neither any remarkable swimmer myself; nor was I an avid admirer of the sport, both professionally and avocationally.

Still, what rankled me, to no end, was our being constantly ordered by either Father Josef Glatzel or any one of PERSCO's imperious housemasters to drain the pool which, by my second year at the school, I had come to regard as a veritable white elephant. Nevertheless, many of us PERSCOVITES (or PERSCOBAS) continued to vacuously brag to our girlfriends and known admirers in such neighboring schools as Mpraeso Secondary School (MPASS); Abetifi Secondary School (APSEC) and Nkawkaw Secondary School (NKAWSEC) about the fact that we were the lone school in the whole of the Kwahu State that could boast of a swimming pool. No wonder that “nestled peacefully in the vestal bosom of the Kwahu Ridge,” St. Peter's Secondary School was also proudly and affectionately known as Kwahu University.

*Kwame Okoampa-Ahoofe, Jr., Ph.D., is Associate Professor of English and Journalism at Nassau Community College of the State University of New York, Garden City. He is the author of “Dr. J. B. Danquah: Architect of Modern Ghana” (iUniverse.com, 2005). E-mail: [email protected].