Solomon Forjoe Tributes by Friends

EULOGY CELEBRATING SOLOMON FORJOE – By Derek Obuobi

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming ‘WOW! What a Ride’ “- Hunter Stockton Thompson (1937-2005)

No doubt I am still in shock and grieving as I reflect on my Comrade-in Arms, my Main Man! It is unbelievable that Abeiku is gone! It wasn’t meant to be like this. I mean he should be writing a tribute for me, not the other way round. His departure has come as a major blow to all of us. It is all so surreal. He just filled any space he was in, larger than life! Never a dull moment in his company! The consummate epicurean, with whom I shared many hedonistic moments.

We were in touch in the evening of that fateful day, Monday October 9, planning our impending trip to Tema on Friday. There was no indication that anything was amiss. No parting shot nor farewell from him. It was business as usual! I followed this up with the usual flurry of WhatsApp messages at dawn, before jumping into the bath to get ready for a busy Tuesday. My phone had been buzzing incessantly and when I picked it up, I found eleven missed calls. The profile of the callers was significant, and it immediately dawned on me that something terrible had happened to Solo. A phone call to Paul confirmed my worst fears when he sadly announced that “Potash, your brother is gone”! 

Time froze to allow me to process those words! “How could this be?”, I protested, as I went through the tortuous stages of grieving. For once in my “career”, I declined the offer of a consolatory drink with close friends in Solo’s memory, opting for a solitary moment of sober reflection. In denial, I persuaded myself that Abeiku could not be gone! In anger I asked, “why should it be so?”! Why should Solo pass on at this time? There must be a mistake! Hadn’t we been through many hair-raising, death-defying experiences and survived??? A good friend of ours once remarked that “as for Solo, he will even survive World War III”. 

I tried to bargain with God to jolt me out of this bad dream, promising to be of good behaviour going forward! Depression followed, but I took comfort in the words of Onua Reks Brobby that “God doesn’t make mistakes”. I struggled to come to terms with reality, and reluctantly I have accepted what I am so powerless to change. My bosom friend was truly gone.

Solomon, like all beings was a creature of nature and nurture, with his fair share of human frailties. His year of birth placed him at the tail end of the Baby Boom. A generation that cut its teeth when the “Times Were A’ Changing”. These were the heady days of protests across the world against nuclear weapons and the Vietnam war. Black consciousness and the Black Power movement were on the rise. Rock ‘n Roll Music, Hippie Culture, Flower Power and Mary Jane, Mini Skirts, and controversial thought leaders like Professor Timothy O’Leary, famous for his work on psychedelic substances and acid. Interesting times indeed to grow up in, with lots to experiment and savor as rites of passage.

Growing up in Ringway Estates in those swinging sixties on Abbey Road, it was inevitable that Solo’s path would cross with mine at some point. The Forjoe Family lived in Ridge, close to the roundabout named Africa Liberation Circle after Ghana hosted the OAU conference in 1965. Our paths did indeed cross, courtesy of his older brothers particularly Ben Jr, who were very active in the Ridge Church Youth Club. This Club served as a melting pot for socialization of teenagers and high school students of that era. Numerous life-long relationships were engendered through the various activities of the club.

Abeiku was a precocious boy who benefitted from growing up in the company of older brothers Ben Jr, Richard and Paul and friends who regularly visited their home. This accounts for the level of social awareness he displayed through out his life. His sense of humour was par excellence, and he was blessed with a ton of wit and the ability of making as much fun of himself as he made of others. He was the life and soul of any gathering, and even though when it came to dancing, he proverbially had two left feet, Abeiku was the fun guy who kept the party going.

Solo was gifted with extraordinary intelligence and intellect and was a critical thinker. He was an avid reader who read anything he laid hands on. Newspapers, magazines, novels, comic books and even flyers. He even thoroughly read labels of choice drinks and could recite these from his very retentive memory. He epitomized the words that “some books inform, and even reform, but the Bible transforms.”  He was an excellent communicator, erudite and eloquent, even if prone to loquaciousness with a tipple too many. But that made him even more adorable and gave him that magnetic aura that drew so many people to him. 

He was a skilled writer and wordsmith, the go-to person for a well written eulogy or biography. He was a brilliant student of politics, philosophy, psychology, history, literature, and the Bible, among other diverse subjects. True to the meaning of his name Solomon was a lover of wisdom. He had an eclectic taste of music ranging through all genres from afrobeats, hip-hop, R&B, jazz, high life, reggae, classical and gospel. It was delightful to listen to him belting out hymns in his raspy baritone in church.  

Endowed with so much social and intellectual capacity, it is not surprising that he found formal education not challenging enough for him. He complemented what he gleaned from high school, university, and the Seminary, with experiences from the School of Life, shaping him into the all-round exceptional talent and streetwise person he became.

Abeiku was a deep political thinker, discerning analyst, and Pan Africanist. He leaned left of centre and naturally embraced the politics of inclusion of the Social Democracy. No surprises there. He was weaned on the works of Kwame Nkrumah and publications such as Franz Fanon’s Wretched of the Earth, Walter Rodney’s How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, Malcolm X’s The Ballot or The Bullet and Bobby Seale’s Seize the Time, among other progressive literature.

Life was never intended to be a bed of roses, and like all mortals Abeiku experienced his highs and lows in life (no pun intended). I particularly recall the trip he made to Vietnam on a novel UN rehab programme and the scare he gave us, when the good doctor who accompanied him called to ask us to pray as hard as we could for Solo, who had been in a coma. You can imagine our relief, when the doctor called a few days later to say he was back from the deep. The remarkable thing about Solo was his innate ability to bounce back from adversity, stronger and better. It was as if he had 21 lives. 

I was privileged to have him in my life for a good half century and more, and shared countless experiences. Some good, some bad and some outright ugly. From Ridge, Lomé, Kaneshie, Legon, Ringway Estates, Spintex Road, Adenta, Cantonments and East Legon. In all this we learned numerous lessons and strove to let these impact others.

During one of his visits to Ghana in the late 90s the South African Musician Hugh Ramapolo Masekela floated the idea of establishing the Ghana Substance Abuse Recovery Programme (GSARP). The vision of GSARP was to confront the stigma of substance abuse and to assist individuals break a difficult habit and sustain their recovery after.

Solomon graciously accepted to be the first Executive Secretary of GSARP, while yours truly served on the Board. Under the patronage of the Okyehene, Osagyefo Amoatia Ofori Panyin and chaired by the late Professor Edward Ayensu with the support of Bra Hugh, Mrs. Aurore Selormey, the late Rowland Roberts and other notable persons, GSARP sought to deepen awareness of substance abuse issues and to raise funds towards counselling and rehabilitation of abusers. The long-term plan was to build a rehabilitation centre in the serene and leafy environs of Kyebi, in the Eastern Region.

Abeiku’s tireless efforts at GSARP, culminated in sending Ghanaian musician Kiki Gyan to South Africa to take the cure. He altruistically worked to have his experiences make a positive impact on others and society in general when it came to substance abuse.

Solomon was filled with compassion for his fellow man and took the side of the downtrodden in many circumstances. It was common to find him sharing his last few pesewas with anyone in need, even to his own peril. I believe the outpouring of love and grief following his sudden demise is testimony of his generous character.

He was a life-long fan of his beloved Manchester United Football Club and was a prolific contributor of on a Chat group created by fellow fans in Ghana. His analysis was spot-on, even though I never knew him kick a ball with any seriousness after infancy. Solo and I spent many weekend afternoons and midweek evenings watching Man U games as we imbibed some good Scotch. Lately we had been reduced to licking our wounds more often than not, as the Club’s fortunes took a nosedive both on and off the pitch. I will miss these and all the countless quality times we shared.

As a parent, his children were his pride and joy. I still remember the gleam in his eyes and the smile that lit his face up when he told me a few years ago that his daughter Yaaba had graduated with First Class Honors and was doing her National Service. By far his proudest moment was walking her down the aisle in June this year.

And when it came to his son Kojo, I just admired the way he doted on the little rascal, as he called him. Together they had planned to cut his birthday cake when he turned five, but alas, Solo was called to his Maker six days earlier. Thank goodness Yaaba rose to the occasion and did the honors on his behalf. Abeiku, you can be rest assured that Yaaba and Kojo will remain in good hands. Your brothers are already doing a good job.

Words cannot express the vacuum you have left on this side of creation. You embodied so much and shared a lot with the world. No wonder you have left an impact on so many. I can only sum up in the words of Edwin Korankye, aka Fuzzy Wams, aka FDY on the “Celebrating Solo Forjoe” WhatsApp platform. They encapsulate the feelings and thoughts of all of us:

“Abeiku ... from the 70s in CTKS to adulthood, you remained the same. No mincing of words, great sense of humor, bright spongy brain, keen listener, sharp intellect, cool understated elegance, a good judge of character, and loyal to the course of freedom and of rights. Total progressive and yet pragmatic. Abeiku words cannot describe your impact on us all. We, in fact, I will miss u forever. In recent years, it was comforting to know you found your true calling, and in the end, that's all that matters. As you sleep, I am safe in the knowledge that one day, when the Lord shall come, we will meet again. What a joy it would be to see you again. So, until then, rest peacefully.”

To borrow the words of your favourite idol, Bob Marley in Rastaman Chant: 

“Fly away home, fly away home.

One bright morning when your work is over,

You will fly away home.”

Fare thee well my brother from another mother. Abeokuta, my fellow Operative and Comrade-in-Arms. My Bosom Friend! We survived the trenches, and I know you will survive this journey! 

WOW, what a ride you’ve had! 

Adieu! We shall meet again, and when we do, we shall smile.  

May Mother Earth lay gently on your mortal remains, as your gentle Soul makes a triumphant entry into the Pearly Gates.