The uncountables that count

“Hey, Brooke! How about you trying this, I saw it in the papers and I thought you should give it a try?” Oh, how dare you refer to me as “hey”, (believe you me, I'm one of those people who got offended at the least of offences, I mean the most trivial of comments could get me crazy). Maybe, that's only typical of the Ghanaian …. I may be wrong, I stand to be corrected.

How on earth could Lukumanu, my colleague refer to me as “hey”? Tell you what? I wasn't interested in whatever he had to say to me after he addressed me that way. Of course, the good natured Lukumanu never took my reactions seriously and insisted that I took a look at what he was showing to me.

Oh, trust Luku, he had a way of getting everyone around him to do anything he believed should be done. “I know you can do this Brooke, and so you should” he went on and on. If only he knew how much he bothered me.

Yes, I did do what he asked me to do which was write a piece on the Millennium Challenge Account (MCA) - What is the MCA? What promise does it hold for Ghana's development?

I waited expectantly as a young girl who was promised a special gift for excellent performance in exams for CDD Ghana to call me with some good news. I convinced myself that the ordeal Lukumanu put me through had some special prizes attached after all.

But I didn't win the competition. I heard nothing from CDD Ghana. And so, I forgot totally about that essay and I couldn't loathe Luku enough. Don't be too harsh on me, for how was I supposed to know that writing an essay on the MCA was going to make me a story-teller like one today sharing her stories with you?

Heaven knows what that story did to me. Little did I know that I was sowing the seeds for a great harvest, a harvest I was to reap by other means!

Months later I sat anxiously waiting for my entrance exams question papers for a Masters Degree programme at the University of Ghana; I was as scared as a mouse. No! As scared as someone waiting for the results of an HIV/AIDS test after discovering that his/her partner has been diagnosed HIV positive!, (oh, yes, I was that scared). For I have heard before my applications that School of Communication Studies entrance exams are often very tough.

There was so many of us. Among others to take the exams with me were journalists, PR practitioners and other professionals, some of whom I considered my mentors. How on earth was I going to compete with those people? I asked myself.

The question paper was finally placed before me, turned upside down, with the Senior invigilator's instruction echoing “do not turn the papers until you are told to do so”.

And oh my God! Could you believe that the essay topic was about the MCA? I was numb with relief when I saw the question. I was mesmerized, because until I wrote the essay on the MCA, which I submitted to CDD Ghana, I knew nothing about the issue.

That day, I was redeemed, and I started looking at things differently. I had no idea whatsoever that the paper I did on the MCA for which I had no response whatsoever, not even a notification to say that “we are sorry, but your story didn't make it” was going to be my redeemer.

I got to know that the things we often deem insignificant in our lives really are the things that often make or break us. I call these, the “uncountables that count”.

Every day is a special day. Believe it or not, you can't have the same things happening to you from Monday through to Sunday, no matter how routine your life. So how special is a special day in one's life? Well, it is for you to determine that special day or moment in your life.

I have just shared with you my experience of something that I merely glossed over but which turned out to so helpful in my life. Hope you enjoyed it and appreciate why I deem it a special happening in my life.

I'm no preacher in the pulpit, I'm no Socrates of our times, and I'm no Margaret Thatcher to tell you what to do, but one thing I can share with you, is to learn to appreciate those little seemingly insignificant things in your life, and you'll get to know that they really do matter - they count, as uncountable as they may be! Thank you, Lukumanu.

BY Brooke Nuwati - [email protected]