The Gentle Landlord is gone!!! A tribute to the late Jonathan Sylvester Akai Nettey

Early in the morning on July 2, 2024, I got a WhatsApp mes­sage on my mobile phone from my friend, Fiifi Nettey of the Ghana International Press Centre (GiPC), the national secretariat of the Gha­na Journalists Association (GJA).

The message conveyed the sad news of the demise of his father, Mr Jonathan Sylvester Akai Nettey, late in the evening the previous day.

Death, as we all know, brings sorrow to the bereaved family, friends, and other relations of the deceased, and so, I could not be spared. The grief has been hard for me to bear, and I have since then reflected on the contributions Mr Nettey made silently to the development of the GiPC in its formative years. I pay this tribute to him as part of my last respects to the man I called the “Gentle Landlord.”

I came to know the late J. S. Akai Nettey, through my long years of working for the GJA as its General Secretary, during the formative period of the GiPC. The centre, which was started in a rented house along the Korle-Bu Mortuary Road in Accra, was later relocated to the centre of town in the house of the Akai Netteys at Kokomlemle, near Kwame Nkrumah Circle, some time around mid- December 1995.

The house, mainly in a residen­tial area, was a two-storey building with a bungalow house detached. I soon got to know that the property was a legacy to three brothers from their parents. Mr. J.S. Akai Nettey, who was the youngest of the three, was the only surviving brother then. He lived quietly in the bunga­low house with his nuclear family — his wife Auntie Hannah, son Fiifi, and his two daughters, Naa Sarku and Naa Norkor.

The GJA occupied the ground floor of the storey building with the Ghana Committee for Human and People’s Rights, a non-govern­mental organisation, taking a much smaller space. One noticeable thing about the GJA was that it went along to its new location with the grandeur of programmes and events. They included meetings, training workshops, seminars for journalists and other interactive social events meant to promote media professionalism, press free­dom and free expression.

The most popular event at the Centre in those days was the facility for individuals and organi­sations to hold press conferences at an affordable rate. The GiPC became a hive of activities in its operations. This moved into higher gear when the GJA’s press centre project received a boost under a two-year support programme from the Brussels-based International Federation of Journalists (IFJ), the world’s largest journalists’ federa­tion. That project was funded by the European Union.

Whether programmes and events at the Centre were held in an atmosphere of celebration, jubilation or tribulation, they often generated some noise from the hustle and bustle of organisation. However, the late Nettey who I called “Gentle Landlord”, with an accommodating spirit, and his family never complained about the obvious inconveniences.

The noise rendezvous reached a crescendo, with the establishment of a little bar at the Centre called the “The Pen” on the premises that operated mainly in the evening.

During that period, the Centre experienced an influx of journalists in exile from mainly Nigeria, Cam­eroon and Sierra Leone. By making it their home, they overstretched facilities there. The house had been rented mainly for office use and not for human dwelling. The “Gentle Landlord” and his family never protested.

I still wonder how he managed to put up with the nuisance. The director of the centre, Ambassador Kabral Blay-Amihere and I, the Deputy Director, had developed a strong bond with him and his fami­ly that may have restrained him.

Here is what makes the big-heart character of “Gentle Landlord” undisputable. Sometime in 1998, two young men I had employed to work at the Centre on probation did not live up to my expectation. I terminated their appointment and decided to do new recruitment. I explored employing the son of “Gentle Landlord”. When I con­sulted him on the matter, I thought he would have misgivings and raise objections. But to my utter surprise and relief, he only said he would leave it to his son, Fiifi Nettey, to decide.

The “Gentle Landlord” then graciously told me that if his son agreed to be a staff of the Centre, he was sure it would be of great benefit to the GJA. The then young Fiifi who had just completed secondary school and was at home unemployed and yet to further his education, accepted my offer to be a casual worker, until he was fully employed on April 1, 2000. He has remained a staff of the GiPC ever since. Not only that, he has taken the opportunity to pursue courses at the Ghana Institute of Journal­ism and is not only a staff but a member of the GJA as well.

I am sure the “Gentle Landlord” will be proud of a son who lived up to his expectations.

He also must be proud that the benefits he predicted could come with the employment of his son as a staff while GiPC was at the house of the Akai Netteys became true. His son was at work almost every day and every time. He kept an eye on the premises and ensured the place was always clean. He virtually became the front-desk and the first point of contact for any resident and visitor to the Centre.

The most magnanimous show of tolerance and goodwill by him to me was when Fiifi got involved in a motor accident while on an assignment. He was riding a motor cycle that belonged to the GiPC, and was returning from Kan­tamanto where he had gone to purchase some plumbing materials to be delivered to a plumber at the current Press Centre at Gamel Abdul-Nasser Avenue, near GIJ.

The Gentle Landlord’s son was rushed to the 37 Military Hospital. Auntie Hannah and I followed in haste when we heard the news. We went and saw Fiifi lying uncon­scious in bed in the Emergency Ward with a drip over him. Mr Akai Nettey was at work at the Ministry of Food and Agriculture where he was an officer. His two daughters were at school.

When the “Gentle Landlord” came home to hear the bad news, he immediately decided to follow up to the hospital. No sooner had he moved out than Fiifi, who had been discharged, arrived home and at the GiPC.

When I went to him later to apologise for unintentionally taking him and his family through that trauma, he remained calm and collected and expressed his trepidation without anger. I still remember vividly what he said to calm my worry.

“Let’s all give thanks to God whose goodness and mercy endure forever. He’s Fiifi’s defender and protector; and so don’t worry too much,” he said.

Let me draw from an Igbo prov­erb to salute him for his goodness to me. Gentle Landlord was “an arrow of God”. I believe it was God’s will that our path crossed in this world. He was a source of strength to me in my work; he showed me love and helped me build my faith.

Mr Jonathan Sylvester Akai Nettey, thank you for all the sup­port you gave me, and for all the sacrifices you made.

Gentle Landlord, fare thee well till we meet again.

Rest in Peace.

Yaa Wor Odzogbaa.

The writer is the former GJA General Secretary

BY BRIGHT BLEWU