I have a dream - By Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

'I have a dream'

On 28 August, 1963, Martin Luther King delivered his magnificent "I have a dream speech" on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington. Below is the full text of his speech. I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.  America has given the Negro people a bad cheque which has come back marked 'insufficient funds'  But 100 years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize an appalling condition. In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a cheque. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of "Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of colour are concerned. Instead of honouring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad cheque which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we've come to cash this cheque - a cheque that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. Sweltering summer... of discontent We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.  The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges  It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquillity in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges. But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: in the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvellous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realise that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. Trials and tribulations There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights: "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied and we will not be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.  I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood  I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. The dream I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed - we hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal. I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today! I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama little black boys and little black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today! I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day, this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning: "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring." And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California. But not only that. Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi, from every mountainside, let freedom ring! And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: "Free at last! Free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

The Day Senior ‘Terror’ let Odadees down

The Day Senior ‘Terror’ let Odadees down

The mid 1970s saw an influx of Chinese movies which produced an intense interest by the youth in martial arts like Karate, Taekwondo and Shotokan  as primarily, a from a self defense and as a sport. Those were the days of films like Na Cha The Great; Exit the Dragon, Enter the Tiger; Five Shaolin Masters and 18 Shaolin Avengers. In those days, you cut your teeth as having arrived by watching these films at Opera; the popular Tw3 (12 noon shows) Orion, Royal, Rex cinemas etc. It was thus not surprising that when the sport hit Presec campus, many Odadees embraced it and dreamt of having black belts etc in the sport. One senior who dedicated himself and devoted time for mastering this art was senior Terror. His macho body and biceps were ample testimony to his constant training. It was a delight to see him in training as he displayed unparalleled mastery with the nunchuck weapon [two short sticks joined by a metal chain]. All Odadees were overjoyed at the sight of this strong man; a combination of Hercules and the biblical Goliath. We all knew that in case of any incident, Senior Terror will defend Presec with the last drop of his blood. Subsequent events however proved we were either mistaken or our ‘savior’ was highly overrated.

The Inter Schools Athletic Competition is an event where rivalries are renewed and bragging rights confirmed. It was in this atmosphere of high stakes that the schools gathered at El Wak Stadium that fateful Friday in spring of 1978. The same Inter-Co provided an avenue for schools to debase others through songs or simply cause mischief as they even battled for athletics supremacy. West African Secondary School (WASS) was our noted rival. The animosity between WASS and Presec runs deep and bottles of ink will be needed to recount earlier incidents between the two schools. Whether by design or accident, we had Accra Girls students sitting between Presec and WASS in the stands. Soon the competition was underway and Odadees cheered their athletes on with songs and slogans like ‘ I know Presec is a mighty school’; ‘pananaananana  pusher pusher’ , ‘Afutse eee afutse’, ‘Saturday morning I went to …. I found out something on my bed. On my bed, on my bed’. These songs soon gave way to debasing songs about WASS. The ‘Jama’ was simply infectious.

Mischievous as students are, an Odadee threw an orange peel at the WASS students who responded in kind and before one could say jack, all sorts of missiles were flying dangerously as we decked for cover. It was when the WASS students begun pummeling us into submission that we remembered and spotted Senior Terror sitting in the stands. Like kittens crying to be rescued, we yelled in unison: “Terror do something before you die; Terror do something before you die; Terror do something before you die”. But sadly our supposed rescuer was a DOA [Dead on Arrival]. When Senior Terror saw the mean face Nima thugs that accompanied the WASS students, he ‘conveniently’ forgot all the karate skills, did an acrobatic somersault and vamoosed into thin air as if abducted by aliens from space. He will resurface at the 37 Military Hospital bus station waiting for trotro to Legon. Incredible and shocking to put it mildly. Houdini is the greatest magician of all time noted for his escape acts but Senior Terror in saving his skin, rivaled him that day. With our war general on the run, WASS students  had a walk over  and scattered us in the process; many Odadees running to safety at the Shell gas station behind the El Wak stadium to regroup.

The invincibility and myth surrounding Senior Terror in Presec was broken for good. We had placed our hopes in an immortalized human who unknown to us, also had blood coursing down his veins. Self-preservation is the first law of nature. [primamque ex natura hanc habere appetitionem , ut conservemus nosmet ipsos]. Fear and anticipated pain had forced Terror to abandon his Odadee brothers to save himself from harm. Never put your FATE and FAITH in any man.

‘PRESEC FBI’ CRACKS TOUGH CASE

Dark, dense and ominous cumulonimbus clouds gathered over Presec that Fall term morning in 1979. It did not produce the usual associated thunderstorms but it did provide great comic relief that lasted over weeks. An Odadee feeling horny, abandoned his Presbyterian morality lessons, threw caution to the wind and had an amorous one night stand with a female relative of a tutor making her pregnant. The only thing this village girl remembered about this Odadee was that he was called Mensah; a name many believed was a ‘wrongstu’. [Presec term for wrong student name given to deceive]

To unravel the case and bring the culprit to book, the authorities decided to summon all Odadees from form four to upper sixwho had Mensah as part of their names for an identification parade to enable this girl point out her lover that night. The goal was to get the parents of the culprit to foot the bill for the termination of the pregnancy. There was an initial reluctance to include my SU (scripture union) brethren. (Imagine the shock and awe with this girl mistakenly pointing to any of our SU leaders at the time). But that reluctance gave way to cogent and persuasive arguments by other staff members that Man is fallible; that the Adamic nature of man very unpredictable and that Lust &Temptation are no respecter of persons!!!! So the affected Mensahs were hauled to the assembly hall. This charade however failed to bring out the suspect as the Odadees ‘kpemi’(squeezed their faces) in an uncompromising war mood. This lady failed to identify the mensah who slept with her and the over 100 Odadees were ‘acquitted and discharged’. The tutor reportedly took this relative back to the village after visiting the hospital to take care of things.

Not satisfied with letting the ‘matter die’, the ‘Presec FBI’ went to work. A combined crack team from Engmann and Akro Houses pored over surveillance tapes [Who told you there were no CCTVs on the compound those days?] People had big eyes that recorded all they saw even with sound bites!! After 48hrs, the team took a closer look at the school layout vis a vis the location of that tutor’s bungalow and eliminated Labone, Engmann, Akro and Riis houses. It was thus left with Kwansa and Clerk Houses. There was no DNA sample to work with but the team was not perturbed. Using old time tested detective work and working on the assumption that the mensah name given was a ‘wrongstu’, the team got an artist impression of the suspect based on the description given by the lady. Applying some facial imagining techniques and the fact that the suspect was absent from prep that fateful evening, the team cracked the case and finally had chief suspect XYZ [name withheld]from Kwansa House  as the one who sowed his royal odadee oats on this poor village lady. He was approached and confronted. There was no Perry Mason to defend him.  He sat on his bed and only smiled. Boys will always be boys.

By Eddie Cofie

Food Revolution

Undoubtedly, ‘mapkor’[Gari& beans] and Red Red[ Fried ripe plantain & beans] are the celebrated Presec meals of all time. Closely behind these meals in the mid 1970s was chicken groundnut soup with yams; a delicacy served on Sunday afternoons and a seemingly consolation meal for those of us who rarely received ‘homemade’ from visitors.

Something was definitely amiss that afternoon. The big portions of chicken in the soup to be served were initially greeted with excitement. But some fast thinking Odadees were not impressed with this sudden ‘charitable’ act of the school matron and shot down any idea of benevolence on the part of the matron. Excitement gave way to skepticism which in turn sparked and ignited a rumour: We were being served dead chicken that died on the school poultry farm as a result of bird flu. Within minutes, a rebellion was underway. The 1848 revolutions in Europe and those in the first half of the last century are well documented and need not be enumerated here.This rebellion however had far reaching ramifications considering the stature of the school and the spinning that went overdrive that the meat was not even chicken but ‘akpanga’[vulture]

Thunderous shouts of ‘Woyee Woyee Woyee Woyee Woyee Woyee’ accompanied by the banging of utensils with cutlery got to then headmaster Rev Mate Kojo aka Kojomate himself an Odadee just as he was about to take a nap. Rev Mate Kojo rushed to the dining hall to cool inflamed passions. He gave a good speech but Odadees had taken an entrenched mental stand and would not be convinced. Reluctantly [did I say reluctantly?], the food was eaten. Not even Rev Mate Kojo’s bringing in the senior in charge of the school farm [somebody help me with the name] later in the week to give further assurances helped matters. With indelible doubts on the minds of Odadees with respect to this meal, Rev Mate Kojo ordered the meal taken off the menu. Yam will go on and have sole companion kontomere [spinach.]

Eddiefico

Akro 76-83

Peprah Science Quiz Room Project

Below is a recap and some lessons learned from the recent successful Peprah NSMQ Room Project

The idea for the project was mooted by a few willing and able Odadee who affirmed and decided to recognize the peerless efforts of Mr Peprah(Chemistry teacher) to PRESEC.  After almost 4 decades of service, Mr Peprah has been responsible for the success of numerous doctors, engineers, scientist and others across the globe.  Additionally, Mr Peprah and his team are responsible for 5 winning teams at the National Science and Maths Quiz, which has cemented the reputation of PRESEC as one of the leading high schools in Ghana.

The team diligently raised over $7000 and worked with the school authorities to renovate, equip and furnish a classroom dedicated to the preparation of our boys to win future competitions.  We have availed pictures of the inauguration event on this forum

Further, we donated $1000 and $800 to Mr Peprah and Mr Afram respectively for their unstinting support and contribution to raising the profile of PRESEC through the NSMQ competitions.  Other activities planned by this team of Odadee heroes include the organization of a Science Quiz competition (between PRESEC and other leading peer high schools), to commemorate PRESEC's 75th anniversary later this year.  We will provide event details shortly

We hope other Odadee groups will emulate our example and give back to our dear Alma Mater.  See Project Lessons Learned below, furnished by Odadee Edwin Amonoo - Project Leader

--- A well defined objective and achievable goal.
--- A group of friends who agree with the objective.
--- Willingness of all parties to support the effort. Help from Nana / Sam / Tim / Kwame/ Ato helped push this through. But keep the larger group informed regularly.
--- Support from senior odadees was very critical. They have the know how and provide very helpful guidance.
--- Set up of control structures to ensure accountability.
--- Provide transparency.
--- Be flexible. You may need work arounds to overcome the inevitable setbacks.
--- Ensure you have enough funds and financial buffers before embarking on the project.
--- Have well defined dates and target deliverables.
--- Willingness for a few people to take on the unpopular task of monitoring and pushing forward the project.

Sam Addo - 1976

PRESEC - First Days on the Legon campus - 1968

2^nd October 1968. 

Finally the day had arrived, the long awaited move to a new campus after 30 years in Krobo Odumasi. It was a Wednesday, which traditionally was not the preferred day of the week on which schools reopened. But this was not any ordinary school reopening. This was the biggie. The big one. EK Datsa was the head honcho. Mr Appeadu (??? Spelling) was the vice head honcho. I must say the significance of the day failed to adequately grab me as I was more consumed by my own achievement so can’t really remember much other than some form four guys who wanted to bully me but later spared me for reasons then unclear to me.

The total number of students in Presec was approximately 360. Each class had only A&B streams. There were not enough students to occupy the five houses. We occupied houses 1-4. House 5 was vacant. The following year when the form 1’s were a lot more (about 140) we moved we spread out and house 5 came into play. 

Form 1 students were approximately 72  but no more than 75 of which approximately or at least 50% would have come from the Presbyterian boys boarding schools of Aburi  and 27 of us from Akropong and Osu Salem. Presec in those days was like a feeder school for those middle schools. So 2^nd turned into 3^rd and the term rolled on. Then came the first Saturday and then after every Saturday we went “trotting”. We had to “trot” to atomic barrier and back with the seniors wielding leather belts to ensure no slacking. Not sure if that is still done these days or not. As usual the first Saturday of every school year was set down for the initiation of form 1 students usually involving all those “humiliating” rituals which in the scheme of things was meant to be more fun than “put down”. The dining room was just like a pavilion. No walls. All on this forum not the gale-like winds that blow after 2 when we finish school. Now it seems funny but in those days it was not funny to see your food carried off the table by the strong winds at 2.30 when you were that hungry. So they had to put a wall around it. 
We had no dedicated library building. The library hadn’t been built then. The library was in one of those double rooms at the end of the classroom block. No playing fields. Had to play football on laterite encrusted grounds.

Yes every Saturday we did general cleaning.


Snakes. They were everywhere. This is no exaggeration. We would have killed at least one snake each and every day of the first term. I reckon no man had stepped foot on that land since Adam was a boy before the school was put there. Cobras curling and spitting at us. 20-foot pythons, vipers, you name it, they were all there. After studies at 9 when we skipped as we went back to our dormitories just to make sure you didn’t step too long on a snake, just in case. Eventually we all got somewhat blasé.

No gardens. The central quadrangle, all the flower beds around the dormitories, common room and amenities block we dug by hand to depth of at least 30cm. Filled all in with humus. We all had a quota of buckets of humus we had to carry. You had to weed first and scrap the topsoil off to fill the bucket. And that was when most often you came face to face with the snakes. We all got good at spotting the likely snake hideouts and treaded cautiously. This was done almost daily after school. Lots of work in those days.

The food. Well, I don’t think much has changed. The Sunday beans stew and rice was on the menu. Recently read this on the forum with a bit of a grin. Saturday morning makpo- beans and garri. Wednesday lunch red red. The gas oil. Not for students with superior taste buds. Anyway one of my mates liked it so much that he was named “chubby gas”. He could never get enough of the stuff. He drank the stuff like lolly water. Used to call shito “ferti”. Don’t know if they still do. Life was simple. We were not many. We knew each other. There was a lot of care from the masters. It was all positive in the first year.

So I hope I have given a bit of an insight into Presec 1968-1973. If any of my mates are on the forum please feel free to add your bit. After 45 years or so and a few too many bottles of wine I have lost most of my active brain cells.

Warmly

Kofi Adih

My First PRESEC Trotting Experience

It was the second of October 1976. As freshmen, we were scared to death as the event was over-hyped and likened to running the marathon. We were advised to sleep with our running gear on and to sprint out of bed when the bell rang at dawn for the commencement of the 5-mile keep fit exercise towards Kwabenya. The threats of roll call and punishment for those who failed to turn out created an atmosphere of nervousness and anxiety as evening wore on. There were exemptions for those with medical conditions but that process saw behind the scenes transactions of Gari, Milk, Tinapa, feti and Queen of the Coast sardines that made able bodied colleagues stay behind. My belief in fairness was shattered. 

The shrill whistles and bells woke us up and the Akro House contingent was led by Seniors Cheekyway and Oko Martey aka Ayomueller. With slogans like “ Shepeshepe wongbontong”, “Revolution Unabated”, “one, two, theley four” and “Kwabenya is too far, I don’t care”, we headed on the Madina road and then to the Atomic energy road. The villages of Haatso and Papao must have heard us at dawn with our singing and we may actually have disturbed not only their sleep but the serenity of their habitat.

It was tough and I stopped several times along the route only to resume when seniors with belts passed by. Slowly, we got to the bridge passing the residences of Ɔdadeɛs George Gorden and Senior Mamattah and then the Rabbit project, which was the unofficial finish line. The roll call was taken with the aid of flashlights or what we called ‘touchlights’[torchlight] those days and we responded  ‘plesent’ with the little energy left in us. There were no Nike or Reebok running shoes those days but my UNDERGREEN canvas passed the test.

Eddie Cofie

Akro 76-83