A Story for World Workers’ Day
By Patrick William Dodoo
Once upon a time in a modest compound house tucked in the heart of Dansoman, a young boy named Nana Kwamena Inkoom sat under a mango tree with nothing but charcoal and old newspapers. While others ran through the streets chasing footballs, Kwamena chased silhouettes with his fingertips—capturing faces, sketching market scenes, drawing his mother bent over the coal pot.
Kwame didn’t speak much, but his drawings did. His neighbors began to notice. One day, he drew a portrait of a nurse who had just returned from night duty. The next morning, she brought him meat pie. “You’ve reminded me why I do what I do,” she whispered. That was the first time Kwame realized: his art had power. But the country did not see Nana Kwamena Inkoom as a worker.
A nation of builders, but who draws the blueprint? On every World Workers’ Day, we see our brave farmers, teachers, doctors, engineers, and drivers celebrated. Rightly so. But what of the artist? The sculptor in Aburi who immortalizes Kwame Nkrumah in bronze? The set designer Kofi Cromwell in Madina who brings theatre alive? The painter in Nima Moh Awudu, whose murals teach the children peace?
Kwame grew. His talent bloomed. He painted, curated, taught. He spoke in color when the world refused him words. Still, he was asked, “But what do you really do?” As if art was air— everywhere yet invisible. Needed, but never noticed.
Yet when nations go to war, it is artists who sing the peace. When pandemics strike, it is artists who keep hope on walls and in songs. When tourists come, they take not just photos—but paintings, carvings, stories. Art is not a hobby. Art is infrastructure.
One day, Kwame was invited to paint a mural on a crumbling school wall in Cape Coast. He painted hope—vivid colors of ambition, literacy, courage. Months later, the school reported a 22% rise in enrollment.
Why? Because art turned a forgotten school into a place children wanted to enter. From healthcare centers with illustrated guidance, to youth-led exhibitions on mental health, to nationwide festivals boosting local economies—art is nation-building in living color.
Yet still, many artists are unpaid, under-protected, and unrecognized in national policy. There is no guaranteed pension for the creative. No structured funding for the culture bearer. Yet it is their voice that shapes national identity. Their vision that brands the country globally. Their brush that speaks when politics divide.
A call to action: let the artist rise with the worker On this Workers’ Day, let Ghana rise with all her builders, including the ones who build with paint, rhythm, clay, and film. Let the Ministry of Tourism, Arts and Culture enforce:
Grants and residencies as stable funding streams
Legal protections for creative rights and royalties
Public art in infrastructure projects
Nationwide art-in-education programs
Let every artist know that their work is not decoration. It is documentation. It is direction.
Kwame now curates exhibitions across borders. His pieces hang in homes from Accra to
Toronto. But his proudest moment? A community youth art camp in Sekondi where a girl told him, “You made me believe I can be more than poor.”
That is the power of art. It builds not just buildings—but belief. So today, we raise our hats not only to miners and masons but to muralists and makers. Let Ghana not only be known for gold, cocoa, and oil.
Let it be known for the brush that built the spirit of her people.
Happy World Workers’ Day
From every Kwame, every brush-holder, every cultural worker: we, too, build the nation.
