Three months have passed since the people of Ajumako and the University of Education, Winneba’s Ajumako Campus lost one of their finest minds and most compassionate mentors — Professor Charles Owuo Awie. He was more than a scholar of Ghanaian languages; he was a guide, a motivator, and a living bridge between academic excellence and cultural pride.
Tonight, beginning at 5:00 pm, the campus and the town will transform into a flowing river of candlelight. Students, lecturers, alumni, townsfolk, and friends from afar will come together to remember, not only in words, but in a quiet spectacle of unity and gratitude.
5:00 pm – Gathering at the Campus Forecourt
By late afternoon, the forecourt of the Ajumako Campus will be draped in black-and-white fabric — the traditional colours of mourning. At the entrance, volunteers in UEW scarves will hand each person a white candle encased in a paper guard to catch the melting wax. Attendees will sign their names in a condolence register placed beside a framed portrait of the professor, his warm smile caught forever in mid-expression.
The air will be alive with low murmurs. Old students will greet one another with handshakes tinged with nostalgia. Younger undergraduates will stand quietly, perhaps meeting for the first time the older faces whose stories of the professor have become legend.
5:15 pm – Lighting the First Candle
At the front, a podium will face the growing crowd. The evening’s Master of Ceremonies, a senior lecturer from the Faculty of Ghanaian Languages, will speak briefly of the man they’ve come to honour — his decades of scholarship, his fearless defence of Ghana’s linguistic heritage, his deep investment in students’ futures.
Then, a symbolic act: the professor’s eldest child will step forward to light the first candle from a central flame. That flame will be passed from hand to hand, until the entire forecourt glows with hundreds of flickering lights. For a moment, the chatter will fall silent, replaced only by the gentle crackle of wicks and the evening chorus of cicadas.
5:30 pm – Poetry and Song
Once the light is spread, a student will take the microphone to recite a short poem in Akan — one of the professor’s favourite languages to teach. It will speak of a “teacher whose words were seeds†and a “lamp that never feared the wind.†The rhythm of the recitation will be slow, allowing the words to linger like smoke in the warm air.
Immediately after, the UEW Ajumako choir will perform two pieces. The first, a solemn hymn, will carry the weight of grief. The second, a lively folk song the professor once danced to at a cultural festival, will lift the mood — reminding all that he believed in celebrating life as fiercely as preserving knowledge.
5:45 pm – Procession Through Campus
From the forecourt, the procession will begin. Hundreds will walk in measured steps along the main campus roads, candles held at chest level. The path will be marked by stops at significant sites:
• His former office, where a single candle will be placed on his desk.
• The language laboratory, which he championed into existence.
• The library steps, where he often sat with students discussing research under the shade of the old almond tree.
At each stop, the crowd will pause for a brief moment of silence, before moving on in unison.
6:15 pm – Into the Town
As the procession passes through the campus gates, the boundaries between academia and community will melt away. Residents of Ajumako, having prepared their own candles, will join the flow. Shopkeepers will dim their lights, and motorbike riders will pull to the roadside, letting the candlelit tide pass.
The procession will follow the main road into the heart of the town. Children will peek out from behind their mothers’ cloths, their eyes wide at the sight of so many lights moving together. Elders will nod slowly, remembering the professor’s work in adult literacy programs and his willingness to attend community events long after the day’s lectures had ended.
6:45 pm – Market Square Ceremony
The market square will serve as the second gathering point. A small stage will be set up, draped in kente and adorned with palm fronds. Here, tributes will flow from different corners of the professor’s life:
• The Local Chief will speak of how the professor’s advice shaped community education policy.
• An Alumni Representative will recall his open-door mentorship style, where even a hesitant knock on his office door led to an hour of encouragement.
• A Current Student will share how his teaching made complex linguistic theory feel alive and urgent.
Between these speeches, a local cultural troupe will perform a slow drum rhythm, paired with the gentle tones of the atenteben flute — instruments the professor loved for their deep connection to Ghana’s heritage.
7:15 pm – Silent Prayer and Lantern Release
As the tributes end, the MC will invite everyone to bow their heads for a minute of silence. In that quiet, the sound of night insects and the distant croak of frogs will frame the stillness. Some will whisper prayers. Others will simply hold their candles close, letting their thoughts drift to memories.
Then, in unison, biodegradable sky lanterns will be lit at the stage. As they rise into the dark sky, glowing orange against the night, they will symbolise the professor’s spirit continuing its journey — higher, yet still visible to those who look up.
7:30 pm – Return to Campus
The procession will retrace its path back to the campus, though the pace will be slower, almost reluctant. Upon return to the forecourt, candles will be arranged in the shape of an open book — a final visual tribute to the professor’s identity as a scholar and teacher.
Here, the campus chaplain will deliver closing words, encouraging all present to carry forward the professor’s values: commitment to truth, respect for culture, and generosity of spirit. The choir will lead one last hymn, joined by the entire crowd, their voices rising like the earlier lanterns.
8:00 pm – Fellowship and Farewell
After the hymn, attendees will be invited to share refreshments — sobolo in clay mugs, slices of sweet bread, and spicy kelewele served on banana leaves. Conversations will flow easily now, as the tension of formal ceremony gives way to warm reminiscence.
Old colleagues will trade stories of faculty meetings that turned into lively debates because of the professor’s wit. Former students will speak of the day he praised their first published article or urged them to apply for a scholarship they thought beyond their reach.
Some will take home their candles as keepsakes. Others will leave them near his portrait, where the last embers will fade into the cool night.
A Light That Does Not Go Out
By the time the final attendees leave, the forecourt will be quiet again. The portrait will remain, lit by a few small candles still burning low. Though the night’s ceremony will have ended, the symbolism will linger: light passed from one to another, just as knowledge and kindness pass from teacher to student, from neighbour to neighbour.
For Ajumako and the UEW community, tonight’s candlelight procession will not just be about grief. It will be about gratitude — for a life lived in service, for a legacy that outlives the man, and for the reminder that a great teacher’s light never truly goes out.
If you’d like, I can also prepare a matching program sheet with the order of events, short quotes from the professor, and space for attendees to write personal tributes, so this article can feel like part of a real memorial package.
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