Rest in peace!

May your gentle soul continue to Rest in Perfect Peace, Amen.

Grandpa was affectionately called Daddy by all of us, our late father called him by that. We had the chance to meet him few times on a trip to Ghana when we were quite young. He reminded us of our dad, their gentle manners and a lot of Grandpa is just our dad.
Is a pity, that the last 2 years
We had planned a trip just be with Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Ato and because of the pandemic
We couldn’t make it.
We miss his voice on the phone
Wishing us happy birthday 
Though we never got to truly know him, but what I know is that he was a great man and made positive influence on my Father to be the great man he was too.
Grandpa may your gentle soul rest in peace.
Kwamina Gyasi Brew
& Kwasi Essilfie Brew and rest of the family

Grandpa.. So I guess it's true then. You're eternally asleep. When mummy (Mama Ewuraba) told me of your passing, I asked her to tell you its OK. You can wake up now. Evidently, you've not been given the message. I remember coming to Ghana to a bed made single handedly by you. I heard you cleared the room for my arrival and the heartwarming part of it all was, that you never met me. The effort you put into that room so I would be comfortable and welcomed in your home was the best. I remember the morning I woke up not really knowing what to expect of the day. You called me Ewurabena, please come and sit here so I can read you one of my poems, right after you tried to convince me that... (Don't worry Grandpa I won't reveal it LOL) as you read I sat at the bottom of your bed and watched In awe. The irony- the poem was about peacefully slipping away and finding peace in death, which I believe you have done.
You'll be dearly missed. I'm soo glad that I had the honoured priveledge to have met you. I'm so thankful to God for the memories I have with you. I love you and sleep well till we meet again. R.I.E.P
Monique (Ewurabena)

To my father, my hero, my fine gentleman

Wow, it seems like a dream or a real bad joke. Jojo said, your father left you but my daddy will never leave his little girl.

On the 21st of February Jadyn celebrated his 16th birthday and I was reminiscing mine. I remember when mummy would be away working in Accra and it would be just us; you would put toothpaste on my toothbrush, mix my water for me, iron my school uniform, set the table for me for breakfast before waking me up. You woke me up on my birthday with shoes and clothes in your hand whilst singing happy birthday.

I remember our evening walks or going for a drive, I would always push mummy to the back seat and sit by you. We would always pick on mummy, share quiet jokes. I remember our story times, I would sit on your lap and play with your goatie, listening to you tell me stories about Germany, our family, poems, your research, business, everything and anything.

I can still hear your laughter; missing your voice - my calming force. Always tidying up, whistling. Your gentleman's way of kissing your teeth.

You taught me to believe in myself and be proud of my heritage. You taught me not to judge and receive and love anyone God brought my way. A trait that has meant most of my friends see you as their own father or grandfather. You never discriminated. You taught me to be a confident woman. I stand tall on your shoulders.

I know you were tired and you wanted to go rest with your maker; however, I wish you had stayed a little longer with me. I wish I had hugged you a little tighter, held your hands more than I did on my last visit. Our trips though to the hospital several times on my last visit meant we share special time together. You became my baby and I wanted to hold your hands all the time. You would introduce me to everyone in Cocoa Clinic "me ba na owo aborokyir ni nyi", embarrassing but endearing!

You would always say a flow has an end and this is our end. Thank you for being the greatest of all fathers to me. Thank you for teaching me to always stand for peace. Thank you for teaching me the value of family. Thank you for teaching me to always dream big but most of all thank you for the love you expressed so fully.

Rest well my hero...
Rest well my chief!
Rest well my father!
Rest well my friend...

I just gained an angel. Forever in my heart.

A Tribute on Behalf of the Atta-Mills Siblings

Brother Ato,
Brother Ato Harry,
Brother Ato Kakaraba,
Kokoo’s husband,
Ebusua Panyin Kwame Kanto Gyasi

By any other name, you were the one and only. Your last name was Brew but you were the eldest of the Atta-Mills siblings. We grew up knowing that you were our parents’ first child. You were raised by them. You were nurtured by them. You were first schooled by them. No one could have dared convince us otherwise. The first time I saw your handwriting, I thought I was reading something written by John Evans Atta Mills, Snr.

As the first child of our parents, you in turn took care of us (your Atta-Mills siblings) in countless ways. You tell the story of how you were the one sent to fetch the mid-wife when Mamaa was in labor with Fiifi. You were 12 years old at the time. Yet, a good 70 years later you remembered the mid-wife when you saw her picture in the newspapers. When sister Effie was getting married, you were the one asked to give her away. That was the central place you occupied in the lives of the Atta-Mills siblings. And that is why you were listed as the first child of Mamaa in her obituary.

Growing up, the remaining Atta-Mills siblings (Dr. Cadman Atta Mills, Mrs. Mercy Araba Quarshie, Hon. Samuel Atta-Mills) knew of you by reputation and as a legend. You left too early, and we were too young to have had much interaction with you. As grown-ups, you resumed your elder brother role with a vengeance. It happened slowly, unannounced, and unheralded. There was an occasional telephone call just to find out how we were doing. Then a visit to the Castle just to say hello. Then it was followed by a tight embrace when Fiifi left us. Like any true elder brother, you felt instinctively that we needed you more than ever. Yes, you were the Ebusua Panyin of the Nkuma-Kyerba Twidan Ebusua. But you were also the eldest of the Atta-Mills siblings. You were there for us. And, for that, we are eternally grateful. 

Slowly, inexorably, surely you became our point of reference and the link to our genealogy. You taught us who we were and where we came from. A visit to your home was equivalent a visit to a library on our origins. You had all the pictures (of weddings, notable events and personalities). You had all the documents. You had all our history (of our grandfather Dawson-Amoah), our family house in Kotokoraba, and of the symbolism of John Evans Atta Mills, Jnr. Street. With your encyclopedic knowledge of who we were, the Otuam pretenders to our heritage never had a chance. Lest we forget, Brother Ato was a poet, a very good poet in a scientist’s clothing.

As human beings, we always regret what we have lost. Perhaps, we should also learn to celebrate what we gained. In that vein, let us acknowledge that these last ten years under your tutelage, your protection, your apprenticeship, your guidance, and your brotherly love has been a privilege and a blessing. We may have been separated by physical distance but your voice, at the end of the line was the reassurance that we needed to realize that we belonged. Yes, we were so far yet so close. Our telephone calls were epic. We talked. We laughed. Then we talked again, and we laughed. We complained about Kokoo. And we laughed. You informed us about the political events, especially those related to our brother. And yes, we talked about family matters. You “appointed” your younger brother (Kodwo) as your unofficial, unacknowledged, and unconfirmed assistant. And we laughed about that. Brother Ato, you knew you could get him to do anything with the promise of eventual confirmation of this “appointment”. It was all good. That is what siblings do. They tease each other with empty promises. They talk a lot. They talk about everything and about nothing. That is what siblings do. That is what makes them siblings. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped.

We had not heard from you for about two weeks. Then you called. Your voice was distant. You announced that you were hospitalized but you were alright. Then you added “Brother, I am skin and bones”. We talked to Kokoo, our Kokoo. She confirmed that you were not eating. You were weak. You could hardly walk. That is when panic set in. We cried. We cried a lot. Sister Araba and Prof. were dispatched to come to see you. The news was bad but not as bad as we had feared. We talked a few more times after that. We had become used to the fact that all would be well again if you would only eat and regain strength.

Then it happened! Sister Effie left suddenly. You were told. You were distraught. Then the dreaded telephone call came within a week. You had also said your good-bye. Like a magic wand, the protective shield had been stripped from us. We were naked, exposed, unprotected, and without guidance. In one fell swoop, we had lost our matriarch followed by our patriarch. But as we try to tell ourselves, it serves no purpose to dwell on what is lost. We cherish what we had and wish we could have kept forever.

Brother Ato, we thank God for having made you a part of our lives,
Kokoo’s husband, you will be sorely missed,
Brother Ato Harry, may the good Lord welcome and embrace you
Brother Ato Kakraba, May you rest in perfect peace,
Ebusua Payin, (Chief) Kwame Kanto Gyasi, God’s speed!

TRIBUTE IN MEMORY OF THE LATE RICHARD ATO BREW BY HIS IN-LAWS

We have been very saddened at the tragic news of the passing away of our dear Ato (Harry) Brew, a quintessential Fanti gentleman, always gracious, courteous in speech and demeanor, he was considerate and kind to all of us on the many occasions we gathered together.

Over the years - both in Cologne, Germany, where Ato and Ewuresi studied and worked, as well as later, at the idyllic surroundings of the Cocoa Research Institute at Tafo, where he was stationed -we recall with nostalgia the warmth of their hospitality and their generosity on our visits.

We all took genuine pride in Ato’s research achievements as one of Ghana’s first entomologists, through whose tireless efforts and dedication, Ghana’s cocoa production was saved from the ravages of insect-born diseases in that era. His landmark research findings were published in leading scientific journals in his field, yet such was his modesty that even we in the family only heard about his achievements from others, never from Ato himself.
Ato was a staunch proponent of our traditions, heritage, and culture. He was conscious of his deep roots in Cape Coast and - as ...”..Abusuapanyin ...” within his own family - he carried out his role with care and attention, much to our admiration.

We cherish the memory of Richard Ato Brew for being a loving, caring, devoted husband to our cousin EWURESI PANYIN through fifty-seven good years and an exemplary father to his children.
We all respected and admired him as a steadfast, loyal, very supportive senior member of the family.

May his good soul rest in perfect peace. He will be greatly missed.