Leadership in Light and Action — Prophet Samuel Ackatia-Kwaidoo Leadership is a lantern in the dark—it doesn’t shine for yourself; it guides others through the shadows. Every day, I carry that lantern, trusting that God’s hand holds it steady even when the path is uncertain. The five traits I live by—strong leadership and communication, resilience, selflessness, focus and determination, and an unwavering work ethic—are not just qualities on a resume; they are lifelines, tested and tempered in the fire of experience. As a dispatcher with the Gordon College Police Department, I am often the quiet pulse behind the scenes, the first voice of calm when tension rises. I speak clearly, listen deeply, and make decisions in real time that affect the safety of an entire community. Leadership, I’ve learned, is not about who is seen—it’s about who is relied upon. Communication is the bridge between fear and assurance, and I strive daily to ensure that every call is met with clarity, care, and courage. Resilience courses through me like a river, born from my journey as a first-generation immigrant. I have walked continents, crossed cultural chasms, and navigated classrooms where the rules were new and the expectations high. I have felt the pressure of tuition, the weight of family sacrifice, and the sting of feeling like an outsider in spaces where belonging must be earned. And yet, each challenge has only strengthened my resolve. I have learned that endurance is not mere survival—it is rising repeatedly, even when the odds whisper “impossible.” Selflessness shapes my every interaction. From mentoring peers as a Teaching Assistant in Chemistry, to volunteering in health outreach programs, to coordinating worship in my church, I have seen that the measure of a leader is the hearts they lift. I give time, energy, and attention because service is not a task—it is a calling. The world needs more hands that heal, more eyes that see, and more hearts willing to carry the burden of others. Focus and determination are my daily companions. Balancing a 3.94 GPA, rigorous pre-med coursework, music ministry, and campus responsibilities requires intention, discipline, and relentless effort. Each hour of study, every late-night tutoring session, every rehearsal, is a brick laid in the foundation of a life dedicated to excellence. I have learned that goals are not dreams left to chance; they are mountains climbed one deliberate step at a time. Finally, my work ethic is my covenant. Every shift at the dispatch center, every lecture absorbed, every lab perfected, is a reflection of my commitment—to God, to my community, and to the future patients whose lives I hope to touch as an ophthalmic surgeon. I have experienced scarcity and limitation, yet I have chosen to be a conduit of abundance—discipline, service, and vision in action. Leadership, I believe, is seeing beyond oneself. It is shouldering responsibility when no one is watching, lifting others when it is easier to rest, and persisting when the path is shrouded. This is the legacy I aspire to leave: a life where service meets purpose, faith fuels action, and excellence becomes ministry.

I often picture my life as a bridge—one foot anchored in Ghana’s red soil, the other stepping into the unfamiliar rhythm of American academia. The bridge sways, sometimes under the weight of expectation, sometimes under the wind of uncertainty. Yet it stands—because the God who called me to walk upon it never fails to steady my steps. As a first-generation immigrant, I entered higher education like a traveler decoding a new dialect—not just of language, but of culture, learning, and belonging. Back home, education was a communal triumph; here, it felt like a personal proving ground. I had to unlearn the instinct to shrink, to believe that my accent was not a limitation but an instrument—one tuned by faith and forged by resilience. Each classroom became a space of translation, where I learned to bridge who I was with who I was becoming. When I arrived at Gordon College, I carried more than luggage—I carried a legacy of sacrifice. My parents’ prayers became my tuition; their resilience, my curriculum. Yet, being “the outsider” meant constantly interpreting my own reflection between two worlds—where excellence was sometimes mistaken for arrogance, and humility for uncertainty. But through that tension, I discovered something sacred: identity is not assimilation; it’s revelation. I am not less Ghanaian because I’m in America, nor less called because I’m an immigrant. I am evidence of what grace can build between cultures. My pursuit of academic excellence became an act of worship. With a 3.94 GPA and consecutive Presidential Honors, I’ve come to see that excellence is not self-promotion—it’s ministry. It’s a way of saying, “The Spirit within me is able.” As a Teaching Assistant in Chemistry, this conviction shapes how I serve. Each time I simplify a difficult concept or stay late to help a struggling student, I remind myself that we rise by lifting others. Knowledge is only complete when it empowers someone else to see. Still, this journey has been refined by difficulty. Balancing work, study, and faith as an international student often meant facing limitations with little more than determination and prayer. There were semesters when I could not afford textbooks, yet I found wisdom in the pages of Scripture. There were nights I stayed up tutoring others while uncertain about my own tuition, but those moments deepened my dependence on the God who provides beyond measure. Being an immigrant has shaped not just my education but my vocation. It’s made me sensitive to the voiceless—to those who stand at the margins of systems not built with them in mind. As an aspiring ophthalmic surgeon, I want to bring sight—not only in the medical sense, but as a metaphor for restoration. I want to help others see possibility where pain once blurred their vision. My journey into higher education began as an act of courage, but it has become a calling of compassion. I’ve learned that being an outsider does not mean being out of place—it means being positioned to see differently. From that vantage, I know every bridge I cross is not for me alone, but for others who will one day find their footing upon it too.

Through the Eyes of Mercy — Prophet Samuel Ackatia-Kwaidoo The scent of antiseptic filled the air, sterile yet heavy with fear. I remember gripping the metal rail of my mother’s hospital bed, watching the rise and fall of her chest as a team of doctors prepared for surgery. The fluorescent lights above flickered like anxious stars. I was twelve—too young to understand the word hysterectomy, yet old enough to feel that heaven and earth were holding their breath. Hours later, the surgeon emerged, his eyes calm but weary. “She’s alive,” he said. In that instant, something in me awakened. A scalpel had rewritten my story. That day, medicine became more than science—it became sacred. I had witnessed resurrection in a ward with peeling paint and limited supplies. My mother’s survival was a miracle made possible by skill, courage, and compassion. But behind that miracle was a question that never left me: How many others never got the chance to be saved because help came too late or never at all? Growing up in Ghana, I saw this question play out daily. Families praying for divine intervention because hospitals lacked equipment. Bright young minds dimmed by the weight of poverty. I knew what it felt like to desperately need something and see no visible means to have it. Those memories became the melody of my life—a song of longing, faith, and resolve to make a difference. My father’s small biodiversity startup and my mother’s tailoring business sustained us with grace, but the financial strain was constant. When I moved to the United States to study Health Sciences, I carried both hope and hardship in my suitcase. As an international student, I could only work twenty hours a week, even as tuition costs rose like tides. Yet I chose to persevere. I refused to let limitation blind me to possibility. At Gordon College, I’ve learned that excellence can be worship. With a 3.94 GPA and consecutive Presidential Honors, I’ve come to see my academics not merely as achievement but as ministry. Every formula solved, every lab completed, is my quiet offering to God. As a Teaching Assistant in the Department of Chemistry, I help students who doubt their abilities see clearly—both in their coursework and in themselves. Because I believe that we rise by lifting others, and that the truest form of healing begins with seeing. My dream is to become an ophthalmic surgeon—to restore sight both physically and metaphorically. I want to serve in communities like the one that saved my mother, where a single surgery can mean restored dignity and renewed purpose. The eyes, to me, are windows of divine wonder—organs of vision and vessels of hope. My journey has not been easy, but every challenge has refined my calling. I have learned that scarcity can sharpen purpose, and pain can shape compassion. Medicine, for me, is not about prestige; it’s about perspective. It’s about seeing people the way God sees them—worthy of healing, worthy of hope. When I close my eyes, I can still see my mother’s first smile after surgery—weak but radiant, like dawn after a long night. That image has never left me. It reminds me why I must keep going. Because through both science and Spirit, I’ve learned this truth: what is not transformed is transferred. And by God’s mercy, I choose to be the transformation.

What Is Not Transformed Is Transferred — Prophet Samuel Ackatia-Kwaidoo They say what is not transformed is transferred. But thanks be to God, my Healer, who turns pain into purpose and wounds into wisdom. My journey through mental and emotional turbulence has not been one of defeat, but of divine transformation—proof that even broken vessels can carry living water. I grew up learning early that strength does not always look like stillness. There were seasons when the pressures of expectation—financial, academic, and emotional—felt like invisible weights pressing against my chest. As a first-generation student from Ghana, navigating a new culture while striving for excellence in an unfamiliar land tested not only my intellect but my identity. There were nights when anxiety whispered that I was unqualified, unseen, and unworthy. But faith taught me to respond differently—to transform my fear into fuel and my pain into prayer. Mental health challenges have taught me to see healing not as an event, but as a process—one that requires honesty, community, and grace. My belief system has been refined through that process. I no longer see weakness as failure, but as an invitation for God’s strength to be made perfect. Philippians 4:7 speaks of a peace that surpasses understanding; I have lived that verse, watching peace guard my mind like armor in moments when logic could not explain it. These experiences have also reshaped how I relate to others. Where I once saw people’s struggles as signs of instability, I now see them as signals for compassion. I’ve learned to listen more, to affirm more, and to love without needing full understanding. Whether mentoring younger students through campus ministry or tutoring peers as a Teaching Assistant in Chemistry, I approach each interaction with the awareness that unseen battles often hide behind brave faces. I remind them—as I remind myself—that God’s grace doesn’t just rescue; it rebuilds. My journey with mental and emotional wellness has deeply influenced my career aspirations. It has drawn me toward the healing professions—not just as a scientist, but as a servant. I aspire to become an ophthalmic surgeon, not merely to restore sight, but to help others see again—hope, identity, and possibility. Having witnessed the mental strain that illness imposes on patients and families, I want to practice medicine that heals both body and soul. For me, every act of care is worship, and every patient encounter is a sacred trust. Excellence, for me, is not just a pursuit—it’s a proclamation. Maintaining a 3.94 GPA as a Health Sciences major while serving in ministry and leadership is not proof of perfection, but of partnership with a faithful God. I am living evidence that mental and emotional healing can coexist with academic and spiritual excellence. I now understand that mental health is not the absence of struggle but the presence of resilience—anchored in hope. What was once a thorn has become a testimony. My belief is simple yet unshakable: God heals what He reveals. My relationships now carry empathy; my career path carries purpose. And through both sound and science, I will keep carrying healing into every space I am called to serve.

When Worship Becomes Witness — Prophet Samuel Ackatia-Kwaidoo They say the truest measure of a believer is not in what they receive from God, but in what they reflect of Him. For me, that reflection begins behind a keyboard—where melodies become ministry, and ministry becomes mission. My local church is not just where I attend; it is the furnace that forged my purpose, the birthplace of my calling, and the platform where worship became witness. As Music Director and record producer for my church, I have come to see music not as performance, but as priesthood. Every chord is a prayer, every lyric a testimony, every mix a message that transcends sound. My M³ Mission—Ministry, Medicine, and Music—was birthed in that sacred space. It’s the blueprint of my life: to heal bodies, restore souls, and awaken destinies through both sound and science. Leadership in ministry has redefined my understanding of service. It’s not about microphones or moments in the spotlight—it’s about stewardship. It’s found in the after-hours, when I stay behind to mentor a younger musician, refine a harmony, or pray over a project that will outlive me. Those unseen moments have taught me that excellence is not perfection—it’s devotion. When done unto the Lord, diligence itself becomes worship. That same spirit governs how I serve beyond the sanctuary. Whether mentoring students as a Teaching Assistant in the Department of Chemistry at Gordon College or tutoring peers through complex equations, I see every moment as ministry. By God’s grace, I maintain a 3.94 GPA and have received consecutive Presidential Honors—not as trophies of talent, but as testimonies of grace. My pursuit of excellence is not self-exalting; it is Spirit-enabled. I believe the Holy Spirit empowers not only to preach but to perform, to think critically, to study diligently, and to serve excellently. For me, academic excellence is simply the power of the Spirit expressed through the intellect. I often say, we rise by lifting others. That conviction flows from both my faith and my roots. Growing up in Ghana, I saw firsthand the brilliance buried beneath broken systems—bright minds dimmed by lack of opportunity, patients praying for miracles in under-equipped clinics. Those experiences shaped my desire to become an ophthalmic surgeon: to restore sight physically and spiritually. Because to give someone sight is to give them vision—and vision births hope. My local church trained me for this. It taught me that leadership begins in service, that anointing demands accountability, and that God multiplies whatever we surrender. What began as a simple desire to play piano for the youth choir has become a ministry that now produces songs echoing across borders—songs reminding listeners that God still heals, still speaks, and still saves. Serving my church is not an obligation; it is oxygen. It is how I breathe purpose into my community. When worship becomes witness and melody becomes ministry, the world doesn’t just hear music—they encounter meaning. And through both sound and science, I intend to keep letting that hope resound.

Not All Stars Must Fall I have watched dreams hang by a thread. I have felt the weight of impossibility pressing against the chest of hope, whispering that maybe I was not meant to shine. I know what it feels like to passionately desire something—something that could change lives—and yet see no clear path to achieving it. When I was twelve, my mother’s life depended on a surgery that seemed almost out of reach. The fear of loss, the helplessness, the quiet prayers whispered into a room that felt too big and too cold—all of it taught me the fragile brilliance of human life and the power of perseverance. Not all stars must fall, I realized, even when darkness surrounds them. My own journey has been marked by obstacles that could have extinguished my light. Coming from Ghana to pursue higher education in the United States was a leap into uncertainty. I faced financial hardships, cultural isolation, and the constant balancing act of excelling academically while working to sustain myself. There were nights when I questioned whether my dreams of becoming an ophthalmic surgeon were too heavy to carry, when the pressure of tuition, living expenses, and the demands of rigorous study threatened to bend me, if not break me. I know what it is like to desperately need something, yet see no possible means to attain it. That tension between passion and possibility became a crucible, forging my determination. But I refused to fall. I reminded myself that stars shine brightest when they face the void. I poured my energy into my studies, earning a 3.94 GPA, and embraced leadership roles as a Teaching Assistant, helping others navigate the very challenges I once feared I could not overcome. I invested in my community through church ministry, music, and mentorship, discovering that lifting others up strengthens the very light within oneself. Every late night studying anatomy, every hour spent explaining chemical reactions, every moment guiding a peer to clarity became a small act of perseverance—a tiny constellation in my own sky. Each obstacle taught me that falling is not inevitable; it is a choice we refuse when we dare to persevere. Shadowing ophthalmologists deepened this truth, as I witnessed the immediate joy and transformation when a patient’s sight was restored. In those moments, I saw how one person’s expertise and compassion can illuminate entire families and communities. My mother’s survival and these experiences confirmed for me that brilliance is never lost—it only waits to be claimed and extended. “Not all stars must fall” is my anthem. It is a testament to resilience, a beacon I carry forward as I chase my dreams. It reminds me to keep striving, even when the night is long and the path uncertain. And it inspires me to encourage others to do the same: to rise after every setback, to believe in their light, and to persist with courage and conviction. My story is proof that even in the face of doubt, even amid scarcity and fear, the stars that refuse to fall illuminate the world. I have learned that the most brilliant lights are forged in adversity—and I am determined to shine.

Restoring Vision, Restoring Hope: A Future for Ghana I know what it is like to desperately need something, yet see no possible means to have it. I was twelve when my mother’s life was threatened, and the medical care she urgently required seemed almost out of reach. Her survival, made possible by a skilled surgeon, ignited a fire within me—a passion to serve others in their moments of greatest need. I also know the weight of financial limitation, the quiet fear that resources may never align with purpose. That tension between passion and possibility has shaped my journey and fuels my determination to make a difference in Ghana. Ghana faces persistent healthcare challenges, particularly in ophthalmology. Countless families mourn preventable illness or carry the burden of visual impairment, unable to access the care they need. I cannot forget the faces of those whose opportunities and dignity are diminished simply because medical resources are scarce. This is the need I am called to address. My path from Ghana to Gordon College has been one of preparation and perseverance. Maintaining a 3.94 GPA while serving as a Teaching Assistant and actively contributing to my church’s music ministry has taught me the value of resilience, leadership, and service. These experiences have strengthened my conviction that true impact requires not only skill but also empathy, humility, and the courage to act despite obstacles. I am pursuing a career as an ophthalmic surgeon because I want to restore sight and, with it, hope and opportunity. But I recognize that my ability to achieve this vision is threatened by financial barriers. This scholarship, by easing that burden, would not simply support my education—it would empower me to fulfill a calling that has been cultivated through both hardship and divine provision. Looking ahead, I envision returning to Ghana to implement accessible ophthalmic care in underserved regions, integrating medical treatment with education and local capacity-building. I want to establish programs that not only restore sight but also teach communities how to sustain health, giving families the chance to thrive without the shadow of preventable illness. Through medicine, mentorship, and even music ministry, I hope to create a holistic impact that uplifts communities and inspires hope. I am optimistic that my personal experiences, academic preparation, and unwavering commitment will allow me to make a profound difference. I know intimately the desperation of unmet need, and I am determined to turn that knowledge into action—so that others in Ghana can see a future full of possibility, health, and hope.

Vision Beyond the Green Though I have never caddied for a president or spent decades perfecting my golf swing, I deeply resonate with the spirit that guided Samuel D. Hartley — a spirit of discipline, precision, service, and love for community. Golf, at its core, is more than a game; it is a mirror of character. Each swing demands focus, patience, and humility — qualities that have shaped both Mr. Hartley’s journey and mine. Growing up in Ghana, I often faced obstacles that could have derailed my dreams. When my mother’s life was miraculously saved through surgery, it ignited a fire within me to pursue medicine — to serve as others had served us. That moment became the “first swing” in my lifelong pursuit of healing. Like a golfer returning to the course after every missed putt, I’ve learned to rise above setbacks with faith and perseverance. Today, as a Health Science student at Gordon College with a 3.94 GPA, I strive to uphold excellence both in and outside the classroom. As a Teaching Assistant in the Department of Chemistry, I’ve discovered that true leadership is not about prestige but about helping others see clearly — whether it’s through a microscope or through moments of encouragement. My dream is to become an ophthalmic surgeon — to restore sight, both physically and spiritually, and to help people envision a future filled with hope. What connects me most to Mr. Hartley’s legacy is his lifelong commitment to community. Just as he poured his energy into both professional and local circles, I, too, have dedicated myself to service — from volunteering in my church’s music department to mentoring peers and using music as a means of healing. In each role, I seek to exemplify the same faithfulness and integrity that defined his life. While my field is medicine rather than golf, I see parallels between the discipline required to line up the perfect shot and the precision needed to perform surgery. Both demand composure, focus, and a heart committed to continuous improvement. In that way, I share Mr. Hartley’s spirit — not on the fairway, but in the operating room and in every space where I serve others. Receiving the Samuel D. Hartley Memorial Scholarship would not only ease the financial burden I currently face as an international student but also honor his legacy of service and perseverance. It would help me stay the course — to keep “swinging” toward a future where I can give back to communities through medicine, music, and ministry. In every sense, this scholarship would be more than financial aid; it would be a reminder that like Mr. Hartley, I, too, am called to live a life of purpose, precision, and impact — one that uplifts others long after the final round is played.

Growing up in Accra, Ghana, I learned early the power of resilience and gratitude expressed in thanks-living (living out my gratitude). My parents, although unable to support my education financially due to limited means and separation, believed deeply in my potential. When a family friend, and my church family pooled resources and stepped in to sponsor my first year of college in Gordon College, in the United States, I felt a profound sense of responsibility to honor their faith in me. Today, as an international student in the United States, I strive daily to exceed expectations, sustain my education, and continue toward my dream of becoming a surgeon. This is my Thanks-living. I am driven by a sincere desire to serve others, which influences my dream of becoming a surgeon. Although I am unsure of which specialty to commit to, I believe things would get clearer as I mature in knowledge and medical experience. Additionally, I believe that my giftings are indicative of my calling. As a 12-year-old, I noticed a visually elusive irregularity in the size and shape of my mother's abdomen. Upon feeling with my hands externally, I hypothesized there might be a uterine fibroid and asked her to have it checked. It turned out her 12-year-old baby was right. Her surgeon was amazed at how I was able to detect this and even make judgement with such accuracy. He further mentioned that the condition would have taken a significant toll on my mom's health if left unchecked or not removed. Thankfully, the surgery was successful, and my mother returned to health shortly after. It was in the heat of this moment that my inexplicable drive for the surgical profession began, and it's been growing till date. In the future I plan to collaborate with international medical and biomedical organizations to make ultramodern clinical and surgical facilities available to people in rural communities or underdeveloped regions, because I believe all people deserve exceptional healthcare. While I strive for excellence academically, I recognize that maintaining a 3.99 GPA and being a Presidential Honors student for three consecutive semesters is not just a result of my own hard work but also the faithfulness of God. His guidance and provision have been with me every step of the way. I have been diligent in my studies, often going the extra mile, but I understand that it is ultimately God’s grace that sustains me through every challenge. This scholarship would be a lifeline to continue my journey. Financial uncertainty threatens to interrupt my education, despite the unwavering commitment I bring to my studies and my goals. Your support would not only relieve the immediate burden of tuition but also empower me to keep pursuing my dreams with renewed focus and courage. Thank you for this opportunity and for considering my story. With your help, I am hopeful to continue my studies and contribute meaningfully to the world as a doctor, someday.

Scholars define a legacy as the long-lasting impact of an action or the creation of a person. Rightly so. However, my inclinations of what legacy is defined as strays from its generic definitions. I believe a legacy is an eternal voice. I believe a legacy is a purpose that lives on even when the originator is no more. I believe a legacy is what tells me what a person stands for even without having to meet the person. Since time immemorial, I have had a stirring within me to heed to that eternal voice. To make that eternal mark. Growing up in Ghana, I was fraught with a plethora of challenges. In a home where ambition was considered 'foolish zeal', curiosity was considered to be self-conceitedness, and innovation was regarded as being troublesome. One may easily write off the givers of these tags as archaic or pompous, but I took it upon myself to look into why my parents and even older guardians had a similar posture towards adventure. Two postulates surfaced after my observation. The behavior was either due to an experienced fall or the fear of falling. I highly doubt that a passionate parent would allow their ward to go through a venture that landed them in despair and desolation. Hence, my overprotective uncle who I observed focused mostly on only what could go wrong and almost never what could go right. This situation took a toll on my development. In their theory, the idea that to learn proper elocution in the English language was to allow yourself to be colonized. Ideas such as the pursuit of education by women being an absolute waste of resources. Upon these flawed philosophies I suffered harsh criticisms from family who was supposed to be my support system and was even chastised for "aiming too high." This leaves the voice that says to me "you're doing too much" in the crevices of my mind in the moment I face a Goliath. In the midst of this, there is also another voice that calls out to me. The voice of generations to come. The voice of the many beneficiaries of the price I decide to pay today. Just as I may benefit from the price Dr. Samuel Attoh paid years ago, that speaks today. The voice of Legacy. Legacy is the voice that speaks to my drained body, mind and soul when the going gets tough to keep moving. The voice of legacy is what tells me that "I can save lives, if I allow myself." The voice of legacy is hearkens to my ears daily and keeps me determined to pursue my aspirations of serving as a Medical doctor to save the lives of many, irrespective of my financially and philosophically constrained background. This voice drives me to defy all odds and be the first and youngest of my siblings to dare study Medicine in the United States away from family, friends, familiar faces and races. I stepped out in faith knowing God will provide all my needs. This voice tells me, that in the near future, the driver of a paradigm shift in the African continent and the world at large is the youth of today who have developed the ears and the heart to hear the cry of the voice of legacy. The voice that evokes transformation of minds and the actualization of passions that serve humanity. I certainly do not have it all figured out, especially financially, but something within me yearns to serve humanity and I will listen to the voice of legacy. Thank you.

Shalom! Quite frankly, I have come to learn that the faithfulness of God is never a function of circumstances, but a depiction of His character. Why? God made us humans to have dominion and exercise stewardship over all of creation. Genesis 1:26-28. Given this commandment, I ensure every opportunity I have to glorify God is effectively utilized. I began learning how to play the piano and by the supernatural hand of God, and determination, I steward God's musical gifts upon my life and have the privilege of serving as a multi-instrumentalist and Band Director at my local church, Royalhouse Chapel International, Oil Dome, as well as multiple worship branches currently at Gordon College where I lead a students' fellowship with experience from youth ministry at the headquarters of Royalhouse Chapel International in Accra, to encourage and empower the youth with the truth of God's word. I have always trusted God for an opportunity to pursue higher education, that would allow me to serve my passion of rendering God-honoring service in Medicine since my High School degree in General Science simply wouldn't suffice. Since my parents separated back home, the pre-existing menace of financial difficulty morphed into a whole new creature. In the eye of this storm, I served as the Chapel's Music director and Boys' Senior Prefect in my high school (Achimota School) in Ghana. As I worked hard and believed God to actualize my aspirations, some recruiting officers from Gordon College appeared on my high school's campus, and I seized the opportunity to learn more about this Christian college. At the end of the conversation, the recruiters were willing to give this young man from Ghana a shot at serving his passion to minister health to God's people. A great door for effective work had been opened to me, but my financial standing seemed to be the largest adversary. I petitioned the Lord, and by the divine provision of Jehovah Jireh, I was able to afford to take the SAT and scored in the 90th percentile for my year. The LORD used strangers (I'd like to call angels) to cater for my expenses and even one person agreed to handle my tuition. I hit the ground running by quickly serving at a mission of my local church and serving my gifts of music at Gordon College in combination with long hours of work for personal upkeep amidst academic diligence. To God's glory, I finished the first semester with a 3.98 GPA, only to be greeted by the grim surprise of abandonment by the man who agreed to pay my fees. Now, here I am as an international pre-medical student with the opportunity to actualize my passion for solving problems of human health by ministering the healing power of God, however, no means to take care of the associated financial responsibility. Combining the academic rigor of my course with extensive periods of working per my calculations would not come close to covering even 20% of my tuition, however this scholarship covers my entire Fall semester tuition. By the arm of flesh, no man shall indeed prevail. I have learned that God, who is faithful, works through humans to help his children, and the Jim Maxwell Memorial Scholarship, I believe, is an opportunity for me to experience the mighty help of God. I appreciate you for this opportunity and your willingness to be a blessing to children of the Most High God such as myself. Indeed, this is a tremendous investment into my future and I pray that the LORD richly blesses all your endeavors. Thank you!

One central theme of life clung to me as a growing boy; the power of innovation to effect limitless possibilities. Especially in the life of mankind and the field of healthcare is no exception. I believe anything is possible and that we can make a difference by being just who we are in collaboration with each other. In line with this longstanding revelation, I had as a child, I developed a unique sensitivity to the wellbeing of others. This mindset was based on the value of human life and how humanity has a crucial role in protecting it. My view of the field of healthcare is in two broad categories. Preventative Healthcare, (Public Health, Kinesiology etc.) and Administrative Healthcare (MDs Dos etc.) These have a symbiotic relationship with one focusing on preventative healthcare and the other involved in administering healthcare practices to patients in a hospital, as their categorizations imply. Some of the diseases that afflict people all over the world today are because of lifestyle choices and sometimes ignorance. However, the question I ask myself is this: “Should these people have to die even as preventative healthcare is being promoted?” This screamed the necessity of getting involved in healthcare with the gift of innovation we are all blessed with, contributing my quota in mitigating the sufferings and possible losses we may face should the focus be on preventative healthcare in isolation. Administrative healthcare is how I intend to use my strengths to best serve others. In pursuit of this burning passion to support the field of healthcare, I took the SAT even as a young man growing up in a middle-class family in Ghana, West Africa, whose parents were separated and didn’t have stable jobs. This same young man around that time, was afflicted with the dreadful COVID-19 disease and walked the plank off and onto the ship of life as he knew it. Twice. Gracefully, I was accepted to quite a few schools in the United States to study Health Sciences with a pre-med concentration, and though the financing proved quite cumbersome due to the staggering conversion rates, an old friend of my father agreed to finance my education abroad. In excitement, I applied for my visa and packed my bags. I got the visa to study and gleefully hopped on the first plane to Boston, Massachusetts to begin my pre-med journey at Gordon College, ecstatic of this dream come true. August 16, 2023. After over 12 hours in transit and 20 hours in flight, I touched down in Boston, only to find out after the first half of my first semester that this friend of my dad had a “change of mind.” As an international student thriving with a 4.0 GPA in an accredited college, this was not the time for such an unpleasant surprise. Picking up enough shifts to cover my legal allowance of work hours to finance part of my tuition, there remains a financial gap, which a medical scholarship such as this Manny and Sylvia Weiner Medical Scholarship can close. To be sincere, the amount of academic work I do to compensate for the worked hours leaves me tired and sometimes drained, and these make the path to becoming a Medical Doctor unnecessarily tedious for me. The collaborative efforts in Preventative and Administrative healthcare are what I believe could answer the health crises in our world today, and the story of my life has shaped me into a young man with a mind ready to innovate, adapt and overcome.

A journey of a thousand miles truly begins with one, and my journey to the West from Ghana, my motherland, has proven rightly so. I have an ambition to touch my generation with the power of God in the field of healthcare and I am fully aware that service to God through man's service must be done with excellence. Hence, my decision to study in the Health Sciences program in the United States. A pathway fraught with many obstacles, yet my eyes are set on the day my medical knowledge will save the life of my patient diagnosed with a treacherous disease such as cancer, or even restorate a hopeless surgical situation. Since my passion for saving lives and representing God burns brightly within me, the harsh reality of financial constraints looms ominously in the background. With my father retired from a middle-income biodiversity startup and my mom sewing clothes to care for me and my siblings in Ghana, the ever-widening dollar-to-cedi rate makes it almost impossible to afford the tuition costs for even a semester in the US without the miraculous intervention of God, fiscally. After writing the SAT and Duolingo English test, and applying to a few schools whose application processes were friendly to my background, I was privileged to be accepted into Gordon College to pursue my dream course, and in trusting God for the best, everything fell in place. From divine intervention for the processing of my visa and the payment of a few other fees by generous donors from my church. One of such even promised to pay for my tuition. Upon finally arriving on campus, I was left destitute with this generous donor out of sight, and my parents economically handicapped. Option A would be to call it a wrap and hop on the next available flight back to Accra with the rest of my savings, broken, betrayed and devastated, or trust the process and let my light shine even in the dark season I face. To persevere. What I do have now is the period of grace shown towards me by the Gordon College community and an opportunity to work an on-campus job. While this is very kind, the rigor of my major renders me indispensable to working long hours. I am fully aware that Gordon College recognizes and appreciates the academic strides I have attained even in these few months, nevertheless, the college has done its best in terms of scholarships and funding, and the tuition costs still loom over my shoulder. How then can I bridge this financial Gap? This International Student Scholarship is one major avenue. An opportunity such as this would help tremendously reduce the remaining tuition to be paid or at best foot the bill, and this will poise me for an even better academic performance, knowing that my tuition is taken care of, or at least heavily subsidised. This scholarship does just that for me. Also, as a beneficiary of this scholarship in my dream field as a medical doctor, I believe I will be financially competent to assist brilliant but fiscally constrained international students in achieving their academic goals. We are one world, one people, the Imago Dei. Each of us can change the world by being the change we wish to see. Even by lending this African student a helping hand today.