Tribute by the widow - Mrs Sylvia Quist to her beloved husband

“No one knows when his hour will come; as fish captured in a cruel net, or as birds caught in a snare. So also are men trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them” (Ecclesiastes 9:1)

As a young lady in the 90s, I met Frank, as I affectionately call him. We became pals and I observed his remarkable intelligence, knowledge, confidence and charming personae. Apart from his cute spick and span well-dressed nature, one of the things that attracted my attention about him was his clean nails.

After we had struck a comfortable acquaintance, he started writing love letters to me which I secretly read in the washroom in view of the strictness of my parents.

As our love grew deeper, he got to know my favourite meal, “PAPAYE” which he occasionally ordered and mostly delivered directly through my brothers, because he did not want my parents to set eyes on him yet. My brothers also knowing that the food was a smuggled commodity, would consume it and tell me later, but I could not complain because I did not want my parents to know about it.

It is often said, that there may be no perfect partner since perfection belongs to the Almighty God alone, but an ideal partner can be found in someone who has developed certain ways that go beyond looks, charm and success; and that was Frank.

We have known each other for two and a half (2½) decades and when you talk about having a real partner, it was evident in our relationship because there were growth and understanding of our traumas and its influence on our comportments. We had our little fights but we settled our issues without interventions of an outsider. Frank was open and always accepted his vulnerabilities; his openness made him express his feelings, thoughts, dreams and desires outrightly. He had so much interest in my personal development. Sending people to Coventry was not part of his dictionary; anytime we had an argument and I was very cross with him, I would be the first to get early and settle in the divan chair before he arrived because I did not want to greet him. When he arrives, he would enter through the kitchen doorway and when he got to the dining table, he would steal glances at me to check my demeanour. Realizing that I am not in the mood to compromise, he would take a few gentle steps towards the stairway leading upstairs and start greeting. If I did not respond he would continue with statements such as “won’t you mind me, my yeni k?nj? (an Ethiopian expression of ‘my love’), you know you are my one like 2”

Throughout out seventeen (17) years of marriage with the compounded problems caused by stillbirths, there had been empathy and immense emotional support from Frank during the course of our marital life. It took eight (8) years of struggle in our marriage before the Almighty God blessed us with our wonderful children.

Indeed, my Frank was a good loving husband and a wonderful companion father to me and our children. As a father of our children, their relationship cannot be overestimated and exaggerated, but you will admire Frank and the boys, as he wakes up to prepare breakfast and when they are at the table, one would think they are at a round table conference. During their conversations, he would sometimes call out to me to come and listen to certain words and expressions the boys churned out, marvellous but incredible for their ages. He made sure their homework was done. He would go through them even when he returns home very late. Sometimes he would wake up at dawn and go through their works, just to ensure that the right work is presented at school. Although he was a strong personality when relating with his children he did not hesitate to rope me in when he realized anytime he could not handle them. This he would do by asking the kids “should I call mummy?”

His relationship with Auntie Ceci, my mum and his mother-in-law, was beyond cordial. How else can I put it than to say hmm! it was simply extraordinary. They even conspired to let Frank have a taste of his favourite kotodwe even though he was on a special diet.

Frank was very proud of me. He made sure all his friends acknowledged my presence and also interacted with me. It was such that even his colleagues in the office and other friends nicknamed me his Personal Assistant. I will miss our family trips both within and outside Ghana. I am grateful you made me the tour and know Ghana and other very interesting places in the world.

Apart from his interests, he valued my interests and supported my happiness. I referred to him as “my paparazzo” because anytime I dressed up, he was the first person to say “come and let me take a picture of you” then, later on, ask if I have launched it? Meaning if I have posted it on my DP. It is believed that when couples understand themselves and their disparities, they become aware of the commonalities between them and also appreciate them.

There was trust and he gave me the guided and guarded liberty without any form of suppression to the extent that it amazed my friends; they wondered why and how my husband was not domineering and overly patronizing. In fact, all he needed to know was where I was going. He imbued the sense of responsibility in me by putting me in charge of all things and this made me very responsible.

Frank was gregarious and generous. I do not know how to describe it, so I called him “Father Christmas”. Frank will dole out his last pesewa to anybody who needed it and the following day when he was going to work, he would ask if I could grant him a loan or get him something to put in his pocket to work. Frank’s generosity was not limited to individuals but also to churches. He loved God and encouraged me to go to church. Although not actively involved directly in church activities, he honoured all “Appeal for Fund” requests that came to him. He believed God can be found in any church that truly honours and severs God.

In November 2020, Oh Frank, you embarked on one of your numerous official assignments related trips with the promise of returning safe and sound. Numerous calls to you in the early hours of that day went unanswered. I became alarmed and made frantic calls well into the afternoon but calls to your phone continually remained unanswered. Late in the day, however, you were finally discovered as having suddenly taken ill in Kumasi. I arrived in Kumasi around mid-night and saw you on admission at the Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital. You deeply expressed your preference for treatment at the 37 Military Hospital and with the assistance of your colleague and bosom friend Dr Evans A. Dzikum facilitated the fulfilment of your request with the medical team. You were medically evacuated and admitted to the 37 Military Hospital. I remember the jokes you cracked whilst we were on the flight. Your unparalleled sense of humour and smiles. Frank, I saw you undergo rigorous medical procedures at the 37 Military Hospital and was encouraged by what seemed a good recovery prognosis. I had that unflinching hope that your full recovery was a matter of course. I spent the nights watching over you in the hospital. There were times you felt I should go home since you were on the way to full recovery, but I insisted and remained by your side. Now I have no regrets. The memories of those final days of your life on this earth will forever remain evergreen. I still feel those tensed moments of your firm and prolonged grip of my hand. Now I know it was your way of saying goodbye and thank you but perhaps most importantly asking me to be strong.

Alas “ our thoughts are not His thoughts and our ways are not his ways. Man proposes and the Lord disposes of” It was a normal Monday morning, November 16th, 2020 when suddenly your health deteriorated. Frantic efforts by the highly professional team of doctors managing you proved futile. You gave up your soul after a gallant fight for survival. Though shocked and devastated I went on my knees and prayed to ask the Lord to return your soul to the body. But that did not happen. I felt your body becoming colder and colder. I was jolted into reality when all the life support system connections were disconnected and you were taken to the morgue.

Frank, I know tears are not enough but in the scheme of things, it was the only option. Yes, I cried, wailed and screamed at the huge void you created in my life and that of our little boys.

My dear people gathered with us today if this narrative of my memories of the late Frank Quist come to you as a one-side rendition, swallow it as the inner truth told by a mother to her children because this pill of losing my beloved husband, and father of our children, to the treacherous icy hands of death is too big and bitter to swallow. But I shall seek solace in the Almighty God the Creator of heaven and earth as I continue to remember his encouragement to love God and get closer to him.

Now that you are gone, I know my protector, counsellor and personal friend is gone forever. Your death has made me know and appreciate those genuine and caring colleagues, friends and relatives of ours. I extend my deepest appreciation to them. Indeed, they know themselves. I am grateful and God bless you. I will continue to imbibe in our children your legacy. I can’t say goodbye but, Frank I will miss your voice, I will miss that well of wisdom and knowledge that I and the boys drew upon. Frank! Thank you for all you did to make the world a better place for us. We love you and miss you terribly. Our boys and I are however consoled that you are with the Lord.

Frank, My Dear Husband

My yeni k?nj?

My one like 2

Rest Well

Rest Peacefully in the bosom of the Lord

Frank, H? d? nyuie

?yie na duzudz? l? nutifafa m?

l? Mawu f? ak? m?. Amen