When I reflect on events from my childhood to date, Patrick was always there somewhere. He has been a life-long friend. We met in our neighborhood one afternoon in the early 1970s, instantly bonded and became friends as kids are known to do. We didn’t need any introductions – I didn’t know his parents and neither did he know mine, and it didn’t matter. It was a vibrant neighborhood – a young boy’s paradise, with many spanning the character spectrum from the boisterous to the reserved.
As life would have it, we were both at different elementary boarding schools and so we would catch up during the long vacation. It was like no time had passed, we would pick up right where we left off and we made each meeting count; we would share our aspirations, experiences and interests. And oh boy, the two of us had dreams!!
Much as we spent a lot of time as kids playing and having fun, we also had a common interest, we wanted to do well in our Common Entrance Exam. We were so excited when we did well enough to get into the secondary schools of our choice. I also remember how bummed out we were, when we realized that meant we were back to catching up with each other during holidays; perhaps that is what got us to pay more attention to planning things out. From that point, our paths diverged in two ways. First, he went to Achimota School and I went to Mfantsipim. Then unexpectedly, my family moved from the neighborhood, and Patrick and I lost touch for about 6 years.
Fate has a funny way of shuffling events, and as luck would have it, we accidentally bumped into each other one afternoon on Legon campus. We were both in sixth form working towards our A-levels and as we had always done, we picked up right where we left off, catching up on old times, mutual friends and the impending A-level exam.
Both Patrick and I wanted to be engineers and sometimes had to parry parental nudges towards the medical field. We were both amused when we caught sight of each other in a crowded lobby on Legon campus for Medical School interviews. Whereas most people were sharply dressed in their suits and tie, both Patrick and I were suitless and tieless and in sneakers. We stood out alright – but not in the best way. Both of us did not think we would make good doctors, but rather than battle it out at home, we were there to check the box – show up – make our parents happy and have the interviewers bear the blame for our not studying medicine.
We got our wish. We started our freshman year at the University of Science and Technology (Tech) as EE classmates. But that lasted for just a year because Patrick transferred to Dartmouth College. Patrick’s favorite meal while at Tech, was fufu and he would go to great lengths to get it. He often trekked to Buroburo Road in the afternoon just to indulge. I always had a good laugh when he would call out that he was heading out for his favorite pastime and notable was how he would pronounce Buroburo as “Blueblue.”
Patrick and I did a better job of staying connected from that point on, and as always, we would pick up right where we left off. My family and I moved to Cambridge, MA for graduate school and Patrick would be sure to visit when he was in the US. When we moved to Northern Virginia, Patrick, and sometimes Lynda, Klenam and Sefakor would stay with us. In like manner, each time I was in Ghana, we would visit and catch up – those were some great times.
Those of you who knew Patrick, know he was a big guy. You could not lose him in a crowded room if you tried. One of my grad school colleagues, Luis Paz Galindo, who was also in the same undergrad dorm with Patrick at Dartmouth, has a recollection of Patrick that is quite apt. His memory of Patrick – in his words, “this big guy on our college football team”. He exclaimed, “Patrick was big and barely opened his eyes which made him look fierce. He sure scared the heck out of us.” The irony is that when you got to know Patrick, he was warm, welcoming and very sociable.
There is no debate about the fact that Patrick enjoyed great cuisine. I recall meeting up with him and a couple other friends at a Brazilian steakhouse in Houston – Fogo de Chao; a restaurant known for offering a seemingly endless assortment of mouth-watering, deliciously decadent servings of meat. After 3 hours of eating, I asked Patrick if we should call it a night assuming he was done. He looked at me incredulously and replied “I don’t know why they have stopped bringing the meat.” We all burst out laughing – that was so like Patrick, and it would be another hour and a half before we left the restaurant. Needless to say, we were the last ones to leave.
He might have been a connoisseur when it came to food, but he was also skilled and could turn out some pretty good dishes with Lynda’s expert help of course. I remember how he would live stream instructions from Lynda and make domedo for us to eat during one of his visits to Virginia. He would call Kofi Quansah to join us and with his cigar and scotch, he would earnestly urge “Kojo, we really need to enjoy our lives because we will never know how many more years we have left.”
Patrick hosted us multiple times at his home and at Sogakope. Most recently we joined him and his Rotary Club for a Saturday morning walk on Legon campus and during my last visit to Accra in December 2019, he picked me up from my hotel in the early evening and I didn’t get back until 2am. We all know Patrick; he was sometimes a night owl!
Patrick had a deep sense of family, from the extraordinary act of extending a helping hand to a family member in need to the ordinary connection of reusing his grandfather’s Peugeot 403 car tag number for his first car, he was simply a consummate family man. I got to meet his siblings, Bob, Pearl and Perfect; the love and trust that bound them was true and real. We also saw Patrick’s warmth, and affable nature in the strength and resonance of his social network. However, like we all, he wasn’t perfect and we are not here to alchemize his imperfections into virtue.
Patrick lived life to its fullest. He loved people and never turned down the chance to meet new people, travel somewhere new, or simply be there when we needed him. He was kind, and had a giving spirit. For those of us he left behind, we should continue his legacy and ensure his life’s work does not wither on the vine.
Although I am still reeling from the sudden death of my dear friend, Patrick, I am humbled and touched by his time here with us. Our friendship was truthful and fair, and we had no fear of consequences. His positivity was an inspiration for everyone he met. He was as real and as indisputable as the laws of science. I will miss him very much!
Remember Me
Fill not your hearts with pain and sorrow,
But remember me in every tomorrow.
Remember the joy, the laughter, the smiles,
I’ve only gone to rest a little while.
Although my leaving causes pain and grief,
my going has eased my hurt,
and given me relief.
So dry your eyes and remember me,
not as I am now,
but as I used to be.
Because, I will remember you all,
and look on with a smile.
Understand in your hearts,
I’ve only gone to rest a little while.
As long as I have the love of each of you,
I can live my life in the hearts of all of you.