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I first met Komla Dumor at the University of Ghana in 1998/99. At that time, he was beginning to attain iconic status as a new generation broadcaster of news and current affairs. Critical radio content that was transferred to audience by operators of independent frequencies as opposed to the better-known Radio Ghana was new and was a big thing for the youth in Ghana at the time. By late 1998, while yet a student at Legon, I joined the Joy FM news team. Naturally, Komla, my senior at Legon and emerging iconic figure, became my go-to guy on almost everything. We established a synergetic working relationship under the able tutelage of Sam Atta Mensah whom we called Sammens. At that time Joy News had the most formidable array of young talents in broadcasting and all of us were determined to make an impact in the world of news, current affairs, business and sports reporting within this novel opportunity called private radio. The team, led by Sammens, included Komla Dumor, Yaw Ampofo Ankrah, Mavis Akoto, Matilda Asante, Mawuko Zormelo, Fred Chidi, Walter Kudjodzi, Akosua Larbi, Susan Ampofo, Cox Tamakloe, Gabby Adjetey, Doreen Andoh, Mark Okraku Mantey and DJ Black. One of the most memorable turnouts for the news team was when four of us were nominated to travel around the southern sector of Ghana to ascertain the sentiments of voters ahead of the eventful Election 2000. The team was led by Sammens and included Komla, Stan and I. We spent risky but enjoyable days and nights traversing the cities, towns and villages in the southern sector and asking questions of anyone and everyone to gauge the political temperature of voters. We went to Kuntunase, Odoben, Winneba, Apam, Assin Fosu, Anomabo, Mankessim, Oda, Koforidua, Osiem, Begoro, among many other places. At the end of the trip, we all had a totally new view of our great country; we enjoyed one another�s company, shared jokes and teased at will; we worked in the nights, we worked days and we worked on the phones. Our regular reports that were broadcast on Joy FM were most sort after by our listeners and online readers. Our efforts at the coverage of Election 2000 told the story of politics anew. Our newsroom became the bastion of political thesis. It was a true and proper election headquarters; everyone and anyone came over; diplomats and businessmen were all allowed inside to get a feel of the procedures that we applied to generate the news of the elections. And when they came, they all wanted to see Komla Dumor. Komla was the big deal, the Boss Player. When they met him, he usually introduced all the team members; he always wanted us to share in his fame and glory; he announced all our discoveries on radio, his authoritative voice added colour and pump to our credible stories. We were riding high. Komla was our leader and he feared no one, he stopped at nothing to get the story out and get it right. Those experiences have stayed with us for a long time. A few months ago, I met Komla in London and we spent an hour at the BBC where he took me on a tour of the entire edifice in West London. He showed me his desk, he showed me the studios from where he presented Focus on Africa, he showed me the studios from where he read the news and he introduced me to his colleagues. At the end, we both wondered why Africa, with all our resources, cannot create an African news channel. He told me that the BBC was fully prepared for Mandela�s funeral in case the old man were to kick the bucket. He was confident that he would be selected as one of the lead anchors should the Mandela funeral occur. So it was with a lot of pride that I watched the clips as he interviewed the Mandela family. At 1 p.m. on Saturday, I got a call from Silvanus Tamakloe who asked about the last time I spoke to Komla. I said to him that we had texted each other about the World Economic Forum in Davos some time that week. He said I should check his whereabouts and call him back and he dropped the line. I shared the information with Rosemary Beryl and asked her to check with her friends as well, as Komla had struck acquaintance with both of us since our Legon days. Komla was in Legon Hall, I was a Vandal and Beryl was in Volta, as was Kwansema, Komla�s wife. So I checked on Facebook. Cox Tamakloe had posted a shock; Randy Abbey had posted an RIP. I called Randy. He was down and could barely manage to talk. Then I called Sammens but his phone was busy for 15 minutes. Beryl and I began to panic. My phone began ringing from perfect strangers who wanted a confirmation of the news. Kojo Bonsu called and he seemed to have the news. He was actually overwhelmed. Finally, Sammens confirmed the story. It is painful. A young life had been cut short. Komla belonged to the idealistic generation that attended the university in the mid to late nineties. We fought the university authorities over residential user fees and demonstrated in the name of Che Guevara, we held placards that ridiculed ministers of finance and education, we talked about Rawlings and his ministers, we relished the phenomenon of democracy and an independent media, we loved to read the chronicle because it dared to say what others feared to even think about. We believed in the African dream. We idolised Bill Gates and later Steve Jobs, we reclined with Bob Marley�s music, We discussed the options open to Mandela once he got out of prison, we hero-worshipped Chris Hani. But for Sani Abacha, we wondered how a man could be so wicked as to execute Ken Saro Wiwa. But we enjoyed his foreign minister, Chief Tom Ikimi, for the dogged way in which he defended Abacha. We believed that there could have been more to the car crash that killed Diana and Dodi Fayed. Carl Lewis was our greatest Olympian, Michael Schumacher was a fascination, and Lewis Armstrong was a hero. We idolised Abedi Pele and yearned for the day that the Black Stars would qualify for the World Cup. We celebrated Diego Maradona as the greatest football talent of all time. We liked what Herbert Mensah did with Asante Kotoko and loved Harry Zakour, his personality and his restaurant. The stadium disaster of 2001 formed a big part of our conversation for a long time. All of us were in the stadium that day. We believed in the future of Africa. We welcomed Reggie Rockstone when he launched his hip life music, it was great. We respected women�s rights because we were surrounded by great women � Akua Kuenyehia was Dean of the Faculty of Law, we idolised her; Emma Mitchel, Dr Mary Grant and Christine Amoako Nuamah earned our respect as ministers of state. Elizabeth Ohene made us proud when we listened to her interviews with rebel leaders on BBC and Charles Taylor and his NPFL became an enduring part of all our discussions. In corporate Ghana, we talked about Phillys Christian, then of PWC, and Dzifa Amegashie. We engaged with the rise of the charismatic church, we interrogated the philosophies of Otabil, Duncan-Williams, Dag Heward Mills and co. We believed Ghana would be great. This was the generation in which Komla Dumor was pivotal, a generation that is now nearly ready to take their places in the future of our country. So how can it be that Komla Dumor is dead? This is painful. It is criminal, it is bad. So where is Kwansema? Where are Mawuena and Korshie? This is bad. Where is the little girl, the first born, the one who broke the screen of Komla�s Macbook pro when she was only two years old? As a mark of pride, Komla told that story frequently and to everyone. Oh my God, did Apostle Paul say at Phillippians 1:21 that..�to die is gain�? Komla: Damirifa due�due.