My life with you was beautiful with many challenges. I couldn't figure out many things, but now I do. It's sad because it's too late, but I'm sure you’re well wherever you are now.

I wish, though too late now, for the six (6) years I've lived with you that I had made you more cheerful and made burden-bearing easier for you which I came to know at the last hour where it was all glaring, but was too late...

It was like that since we met till the end, but I'm still proud that I spent all those times with you.

Everyone who came across you and knew my relationship with you said I was lucky to have you; I frequently agreed with them.

The pleasantest of all the duties you have ever performed in our household was your food. The meals you cooked were amazing. My friends and family who ate from your pot always praised your cooking skills. You may have died young to save many other innocent souls like yourself, but I still believe strongly that you would live beyond your time— it is better to live short and be remembered forever than live long and not be remembered at all. I'll do and name great stuff in your name and memory.

27th December 2020 was only an end and a beginning— many people, including myself, won't understand why and, but it is just the courage to write that's sustaining me— I prefer to write and die too.

I’ve seen almost everything that happened to you— and when you finished your whole life in this sad earth, I gave up many things and would ‘gladly die happily’ without those privileges. With you, life was frequently dull and nobody could've known the reason, except me, but that was too late. If there is heaven, how will you miss it with how you lived your life? People say I can't replace you; I agree.

When I die and get to hell, the only problem I will have will be the possible knowledge that you're in heaven and I shall not be permitted to see you. I may have to beg the ‘Old Man’ with all I've got to see and touch you again. People say they thought I would go crazy, but I've gone crazy just that they can't see it. Perhaps they mean "crazy" literally, but that will be too much for a young brother to bear.

You left behind a great legacy and I mean our handsome son. For your school certificates, none can use them; and your profession as a Pharmacy Technician will only be known to our son when he grows up.

You were a good wife and mother. You took very good care of me and Mankudivi. You lived for us. We're grateful. I'll always remember you for all the good things you did for me and our son. We'll sing your praises as long as we live in this world.

I’ve created social media pages in your memory and honour— I'll create a Foundation in your name— one that will be of great benefit to humanity. As an introvert, you never had any issues with anyone. I can boldly stand-in for you anytime because I've lived with you for many years. Your tolerance was too high and I sometimes criticised you for that.

You could hardly hurt a fly— people could easily take you for granted because you were too humble and never thought much of yourself. Your patience was another thing which always swept me off my feet. Anyone who visited our home immediately recognised your calmness and humility. You respected everyone and always minded your own business.

We shared a lot together within the years we lived and loved— though they never allowed us peace, but somehow we forced it and had a piece of it. A great woman you were. A virtuous woman. You truly loved me and that was the reason why I made sure you had all you wanted to be happy.

I’m proud I stood by you till the end. May you find comfort wherever you are now. I'm fine. Mankudivi is fine. Cherlla Atea is fine. Siisu Sulley is fine. Kojo Biney is fine. We're all fine. Everything is fine. You thanked me for all I did for you and asked me to thank Cherlla and Siisu for you. I did thank them and thank you for thanking me, our heroine, Hannah Assuah. 6th February 2021, you were finally put to rest. Rest well, my beloved wife.