Hi Samuel Nuamah! I write this letter to you to express my sadness about my inability to meet you again in person.
I left the shores of Ghana on August 14 to the Republic of Korea for an assignment, when I was leaving I did not have an agreement with you that I would not come to meet you. What God has put together no one can put asunder. It is with deep pain that I accept this.
The legend reggae star, the late Peter Tosh, said “… everybody wants to go up to the heavens, but nobody wants to die…” It is my conviction that you have laid down your life for a better cause.
I had a sleepless night on Friday August 21, in my Hotel room at Courtyard Marriot at Seoul Pangyo. I got up and switched on my tablet, only to be greeted with the “difficult” news of your death the previous day, Sammy I tried to hold back my tears! Being a Muslim, it is my belief that you have returned to your maker.
Sammy, you used to call me MP (“Member of Parliament”), by virtue of my long service as Parliamentary Correspondent. You called me “surum” a Hausa expression which in English means quiet/silence.
Anytime the Black Stars were playing a crucial match and there is anxiety, he tells me MP do not worry “we shall surum them” implying that the Stars would silence their opponents. Little did I know that God will “surum” you so soon.
Sammy I ‘whatsapped’ you the last time before I emplaned to Korea on august 14, commending you for the brilliant Q & A you had with Squadron Leader Selase Yaya Agbenyefia, the female pilot who piloted President Mahama and wife Lordina, to safety from Sunyani to Kumasi. Little did I know you were going to be a victim of road crash.
Sammy, I knew you had an eye for excellence; covering the president was such a unique role for you not to faulter in your reportage. You strive to make your newstory from the presidency stand different from other reports. Your spirit of hard work, liveth on with the generations.
My brother Sammy, I still have the purse you bought for me during one of your trips. I still recall you pressed me to go to lunch with you, but we did not get a convenient time.
You dropped something valuable into my pocket! Those rewards are awaiting you as you journey back to your maker.
In your absence, I wore my white gown on Friday. Perhaps people did not understand me wearing white, while others are clad in black and red: representing a mourning mood. As a Muslim, our preferred colour is white; either in happiness or in adversity. White represents brightness of life. We accept whatever misfortune and we believe that it is the will of Allah. That is why we shroud the dead in white for burial, in the belief that the dead will have brightness of peace, forgiveness and paradise!
It is my strongest conviction that your journey back to your maker will be full of eternal brightness. There will be no ‘dumsor’ over you anymore!
You will have a 100 per cent increase in salary from your maker. And indeed you will have the opportunity to complete the story you were writing until your demise on that fateful day.
Your family, in their wisdom, slated September 17 as your burial day. Either by fate or by design, or rather coincidentally, September 17 is my 49th birthday. You can imagine that! It is my hope that you will pray to your maker to let me complete the rest of my 11 years of service, to fill in the gab the work that you might have left undone.
Sammy, your parents are saddened that your death is a big blow to them because you were the breadwinner of the family. Sammy, you are no breadwinner of the family. God is the breadwinner of every family. You were a mere conveyance belt of the providence of God to the family. Let them be assured that with your demise, God will still provide for the family!! I end here Sammy!
By Salifu Abdul-Rahaman