My mentor extraordinaire - In memory of senior Sammy Tay

Had it not been for the 6th formers I encountered at Mfantsipim in 1961 - when I entered the school as a greenhorn – I wondered how my own cognitive trajectory would have been shaped.

One of such mentors at the time was a sharp, fluent, witty, quick thinking senior by the name of Sammy Tay.

The 6th formers at the time were not small boys; not at all. They were nothing like the puny high school students we see today. They were grown and big, in their early 20s mostly.

I remember one early morning, struggling from the upper dorm to the staircase and seeing the head prefect, T.C. Ankrah - at the end of the hallway - in front of his court, shaving!
He had emerged from his prefect’s room to the veranda to perceive his face in the broad morning sunrise as he applied a shaving cream and a razor.

I gasped for breath at that wondrous spectacle. The last person I had seen entrenched in such an early morning ritual, before I came to Mfantsipim, was my father, a very grown man with children and a hefty paternal responsibility.

The spectacle was too much and it caught me paralysed to my feet as I stood stiff gazing in awe. The head prefect shot at me: “Greenhorn, what are you staring at? Get away.” I shot off.
Senior Tay was in the Upper 6th and in Pickard House where I was placed in form one. He called me to him one day, “Herr, greenhorn, come here!”

As I approached him timidly, he queried: “Are you here to only study numeracy to go settle behind a counter and start counting money in your father’s shop, or you are here for literacy - to think and do something with your thinking?”

Not once in my teenage life had I been so accosted. I ignored him then, but the interaction gnawed at my heel and acquired a status in my psyche by moulding a template for my growth.
Looking back, he helped shape me to his surreal ideal of what he imagined I could become.

Half century later

About 55 years later, in 2016 at the British Council Hall, Accra, I happened to be a speaker at the “MOBA Annual Engagement Series” for a panel discussion, “Advancing Ghana’s Progress through Effective Professionalism: Thinking and Looking Ahead (Dwen Hwe Kan)”.

After my presentation on “Education for the 21st century Ghana” - and during the discussions - Senior Tay took the microphone - and the floor - and mimicked our earlier encounter of 1961.

He remembered and reminded the audience with glee, and concluded, “I’m so proud of him.”

He then recalled his own secondary school experience about the “O” levels as an Arts student scoring ‘One’ in General Science.

He then asked the audience, “Do you know how I did it?” He paused, and inflamed the room with the calibrated punchline, “It was chew, pour, pass, and forget!”

The roof of the hall exploded from laughter. He was funny that way!

Sammy Tay was a fervent reader of my column in the Daily Graphic and would often call me on the phone to discuss my work in education.

One afternoon, he invited me to join him at his favourite joint right across the street from the general post office at Accra central.

While enjoying a chilled Club beer before lunch, we were reminiscing and recalling the years we had known each other.

In our conversation, I said, “Senior Tay, you know something? I had earlier toyed with the idea of studying law to become like you ...”

Before I could finish, he butted, “What f____ law! You know how many f____ lawyers we have in this country? You are a philosopher.

You help the country to think. And that is what you should continue doing.” He was quite breezy with colourful language, and funny that way!

With Kofi Annan

In the mid-1990s, Sammy Tay was in New York on vacation. On one Tuesday morning, he took out his “Sunday best”, as he recalled “a double-breasted Issey Miyake checked grey suit, a blue shirt by Christian Dior and a tie by Balenciaga” to meet the general secretary of the United Nations, Kofi Annan, in his office.

Through contacts, he had expressed the desire to see Kofi Annan in person. Mr Annan’s Secretary was called Tera – of Ethiopian extraction, and according to Tay “a paragon of beauty”.

She asked him whether he was a Head of State, Prime Minister, Foreign Minister, Emperor or an Ambassador. He replied “no”, and said, “Please tell your boss that Sammy Tay is in town and would like to see him for just 10 minutes.”

Instead of the 10 minutes he asked for, the two talked for about an hour and 15 minutes. As he was led to the lift, all the 25 secretaries who worked directly under the secretary general came out of their offices and stood in front of their cubicles nodding.

As Sammy Tay recalled, “Looking at his secretaries from various countries of the globe – from their silhouette, poise, elegance, beauty and dressing – one would imagine watching a fashion model cat-walk in Paris.”

He whispered into Mr Annan’s ear, “My brother, you must be working under tight temptation here.” Mr Annan couldn’t contain himself. He laughed, and said, “Here, everybody is a spy”.

The writer is a trainer of teachers, a leadership coach, a motivational speaker and quality education advocate.
E-mail: anishaffar@gmail.com