Citi FM’s Fred Duhoe shares his inspirational story; says he was convinced to dump teaching for journalism- DETAILS!

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5 years after Graduation!
I left the classroom as a professional teacher in pursuit of my passion- journalism.
While leaving, I didn’t know what’s ahead. But I was convinced that the 3years I had given myself had expired and exceeded by 2 more years.

I was going to be a teacher for only 3 years. Timelines I’d set for myself. Anything beyond 5years means my ambition is thwarted.
While the 5th year was about three months to end, I went to the school with my leave of absence letter in my hand.

After informing school authorities and some colleagues about my exit, supervisors from GES walked in with their usual irritating incompetence. They’ve provided no text books nor TLMs yet expecting teachers to perform magic. Knowing it was my last day, I told them to get serious. They should supervise what they’ve provided. Making ridiculous demands on teachers while providing nothing was nauseating.

I left feeling happy. At least, not to return to a place where you’re not appreciated (teaching) yet a lot expected from you.
Through the PTA of my school and my efforts, we built a well resourced computer lab. Not to the standard expected but it was better for the pupils to appreciate the basic ICT tools.
When GES could not provide a single ICT text book, I used my salary to purchase a labtop and three desktop computers to teach my class. Other classes also benefited. Thought the intention was to establish an internet cafe in town, I started using those computers to teach the kids. Later, I moved them to my café to benefit the entire community.

All WASSCE/BECE results were checked in my internet café in the entire district. Visa processes were completed for others and anything that had to do with printing was done at the “F-Net Café” at Kpetoe.

I left and never looked back. I was feeling too comfortable and my dream of becoming a journalist was lagging.
My admission to GIJ came quickly. Paying for admission wasn’t a problem because I saved for it. How to pay the subsequent fees was my burden but I started anyway.

It was a 2year distance degree course. Commuting to and from Accra every fortnight with its associated risks was another nightmare. There were times I skipped lectures because I didn’t have money for transport to Accra from Ho.
Where to sleep in Accra wasn’t a problem but what to eat on campus sometimes was a challenge until I got home. But for the benevolence of some friends, the “boys boys” life survived me.

Mum came through for me at certain times when I had no place to turn to for the rest 30% fees. What broke the camel’s back for me was when the rector started moving from one exam hall to the other. He was sacking students who couldn’t pay all fees before sitting the exams.
I was one of them. Research Methodology was the paper. If I wasn’t going to score an A or B+ in any of the papers, at least not in Research Methodology. That was supposed to be my saviour to add color to my grades. But that didn’t happen. I was sacked and had to resist that paper.

I wasn’t one of the exceptional students but I trust in my little efforts not to trail or commune with those failing. I had a task to break a family (nuclear) cycle of none pursuing a “common degree”. It was purposed in my heart to be among the best students but forces that dragged my attention were more than I could battle. I know I didn’t relent.
I went into the washroom and wept. I called my cousin but his help came in a bit late. He was of immense support. Ike (Barpty) God bless you for everything.
The two years marathon race at GIJ ended somehow, on a good note. At least I didn’t get what I wanted but I’m thankful it didn’t end in tears of failure.

As seen in this photo; I went to the graduation without paying for the gown on time. Everyone had paid and ironed theirs looking all flashy; I was still calling people on the night before the graduation to help with transport fare to enable me attend at least.
I secured a loan from a friend which made it possible and also paid for the gown that was pulled from a sack well wrinkled.
Thank God for how he’s made me never to pay attention to what people say or perceive about me. I was all alone with my thoughts on that pleasant day. No family, no friends, no food but I could afford the broadest smile.
I got my cert and walked away. Here I’m 5years after that graduation to recount it as part of history. Story tale that was once lived. This was just 2015-2017 and not the 1990s. We all have our individual battles and destinations. Stay true to your path.
To God be the glory.

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