There is only one time in living when our hearts can be said to really stop - when death takes a loved one.
It never really hits you with that fervent bang when it is not close to you. You always seem to feel it best when someone close, someone powerful, someone who changed the way we run our lives stops breathing, does not respond when you ask for help or ask a question. Eyes are empty of soul staring into a horizon which finds its beginning and end not in this world.
It is therefore with the deepest grief that we try to assimilate and understand the death of a great and influential man, Godwin Kotey - A man whose mind is the seat of phenomenal creativity, which seeped through his being and inevitably touched and changed, in miraculous ways, the creative world and people around him.
His thirst for quality, reality, and authenticity in artistic expression was evident in everything he did. Pushing borders and re-etching them in new ways were tenets that Godwin portrayed in his actions, his speech, his opinions and his deeds. A man who hated pretentiousness, Godwin was the man to go to for brutally honest and unbiased views and encouragement. Working with the youth and encouraging them, it may be cliché to refer to him as the guiding light in the lighthouse, cliché but so true that cliché ceases to exist.
Eyes staring into a distant horizon, beginning and end are places that are non-existent in the real materialistic world. Angels shall cry, sharing their grief with Ghanaians for a man whose very essence is was the crux of our artistic being. Not many pass through lives and leave indentations. And the very few who do, are to be stamped on our lips, hearts, words, pages, books, films forever.
Falling like living pieces of souls, dispatched, parted, in fragments, Angels would cry for Godwin, who mastered the God in himself to move a mass of people.
Death is man’s tyrant. He looms and threatens man in his lifetime, deriving sadist pleasure. He abuses his power from time to time taking away life when it is sweetest to a man, relishing the wails of distress. But the secret man does not know is that he has power over death, for he wields a weapon Death can never be triumphant against: The immortality of memory. Death may take the life of a loved one but they still live in you for as long as you live. In that man’s tyrant is defeated and Death is finally overthrown.
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