Kigali mornings; the belle, commercial posters and my machismo

By George KAGAME

The drive to work this morning was as predictable as only Kigali can be. I stood at my bus stand for a couple of minutes and after a while several buses with loud and annoying touts parked almost by the tip of my well polished shoe. When I entered one of the buses, it turned out the inside of the vehicle-with its jabbering radio presenter-was competing with the outside-where the touts held fort-in who can shout the loudest. I cannot remember the channel of the radio station which was tuned on a monstrous volume, the programme, as I learnt later was aptly named ‘Sun Up’. The radio presenter repeatedly played many different versions of his jingles with a frequency that suggested that even he feared the thought that he might forget what he was presenting. It was easy to think that this was because he had few commercials to play as the only advertisements were those of an amorphous telecommunication firm as well as a beverages company. Typically I was left with no option but to go into ‘space.’ Space in this case varying from reading a book, using headphones to block out the sound as I create my counter noise by use of a walkman disc or simply gazing out of the window in the hope that something worth attention takes my eyes and thoughts. Meanwhile, the desire, ambition and incentive to buy my own private vehicle was increased tenfold as is normally the case with Kigali mornings. This morning however my regular ‘space ship’ which doubles as my mobile cellular was low on battery, as yesterday load shedding ensured that I never charged it. So I was left with no option but to endure the punishment of the bus and its early morning irritating noise. Thinking about fellow commuters I imagined the volume was meant to update them on the happenings in the presenter’s life and his mambo jumbo about an event taking place at BB night club today or some other place of Kigali fun nights. Fellow commuters seemed not to be bothered by the noise; probably the normal thinking amongst bus operators is that radios are hardly affordable these days so their vehicles serve a double purpose as a public address system. (And you wonder why then, we have so many radio stations.) Through the windows of the bus I was taken up by one of my favourite pastimes. Looking at roadside commercial billboards and what they were telling me to do or about the events and issues of our society, (the billboards that is.) And true there were several about HIV/Aids, tuberculosis, water purifiers, corruption and investment. One was informing the public about a new service of some development bank, another about a cellular company which suggested that if I bought their airtime frequently, the romantic relationship with my woman will considerably improve. Another promoted some products that I never understood. And just before disembarking from the bus I saw this one poster which hooked me for a while that I reported to work late. It was a television that was hoisted as a poster and played commercials non stop. The adverts were sliding up and downward, sideways on top of disappearing and then reappearing suddenly. Eh, this city of mine, now it is like New York? I stood there in a posture that only a person who has just arrived from deep in the country to the city can understand. The commercials were written and spoken in foreign words with words falling over themselves like rocks falling off a cliff in an earthquake, spoken in tongues that seemed to be flipping in the nose, in accents so strange that North Americans would be jealous. In all the commercials I saw both on the City television, on the roadsides and even heard over the radio, there was one overriding fact. They were all wrapped around a soothing voice of a presumably beautiful belle, (in case of the radio,) and on the body of a visibly attractive one on those in the posters and television. The woman seemed to invite me to leave everything I was going through in my current life to take her and the product she was promoting, if I had a caption for many of these adverts it would go: “Come to me you wondering fellow, you will enjoy your time with me. Leave your life, your wife, your everything, I am the best thing in this world.” Contrary to the poster that stands right outside the entrance to my ‘home’ in the inner city, the roadside adverts on the way to my work station were only appealing to my machismo while the poster in my neighbourhood simply had this caricature of a fish and a presumably cow leg and the words Amafi and or boucherie. With Alimentation at the bottom.

Pub Talk; the cheeky city official and his driving misfortune

http://www.newtimes.co.rw/index.php?issue=14199&article=6446

BY George Kagame

Not much worth your noble attention happened during the course of last week in our here backyard. Therefore if you were looking for sense when you purchased today's copy of this newspaper, please don't read any further From The Hammock. My advise is you turn to the next page.

But if you are still reading then I write for people like you, please continue and since nothing of note happened to motivate me to undertake a VERY SERIOUS analysis of the subject I am left with no option but to invite you to partake in the idle chit chats that I proverbially indulge in at the Pub Talk normally happening in the abode of Ship&Anchor, the most beloved watering hole of yours truly.

Faced with the lack of any event last week sensible enough so as to motivate yours truly to write about, I have the honour and pleasure to call upon the reporter in me. And like all reporters the world over, every night I go to bed I pray to God that some misfortune happens in his world. This prayer can range from massive destruction as a result of earthquakes, and in this regard 2010 has been so wonderful to reporters and newsmen, so thank you God for answering our prayers. 

From earthquakes in Haiti and Chile that caused hitherto unknown misery there to the landslides in Eastern Uganda.  Such things or others of enormous importance need to happen occasionally and preferably on a weekly basis such that you can count on an epic column every sunday as you sip your favourite blend of coffee/tea or while gallop down your favourite alcoholic beverage at your chosen place of fellowship with old chums. 

In fact natural disasters help to keep us in work to a large extent, be they floods, volcanic eruptions and droughts. They are a blessing as long they don't claim our own lives, we like to call ourselves; Cowboy NEVER DIE. Of course as human beings we have empathy but this is immediately overridden by the need to get a story, so it is strictly a short time commodity this empathy thing.

When we are not praying to God to send some mega destruction, we are hoping that fellow man does something so odd so that with our pens, cameras and empty heads we rush to ask such men; "Whats up man?" But this past week none of that happened in our here backyard. Save for a Kigali City official that is accused for driving over a leader of one of the country's political parties and running away, only to return moments later and play innocent bystander.

But this official is so 'small' a  man to get the attention and publicity of The Hammock because, as explained above, he of the swinging bed needs something epic to rant about in the guise of a column and that he is now 'columning' on the misfortune of the Liberal Party founding member who died after being being run over by the said City official, is a sign how news has been so scarce in here our backyard. 

Last week was a blessing for columnists far lazier than The Hammock. It was reported that an army General had allegedly escaped from his troops, and as if in shock, most notable columnists were tipping over themselves in faked shrieks screaming out against the intentions and discipline of alleged traitor. Now really, what do you expect an army general to do after a war? And in this particular case after a series of wars? Become a priest or take my lame job? That of praying that the world faces frequent apocalypses so that I can keep reporting at my station? Oh, there were grenades blowing up here and there. I also prayed for the victims of these dangerous 'stones.'

So in a week that no military General escaped, me and my brotherhood of columnists, to whom we are in complete discretion and anonymity of each other, were left with no option but to wonder at the shenanigans of the City official and his comical misery after killing a citizen of notable repute in our here backyard.  

What attracts our attention however is not the death of the Liberal Party official, (Bless his Soul dear God,) but the single most foolhardy act the City official did in a futile attempt at damage limit control. It was reported that after driving over his unfortunate victim the city official never stopped, instead he zoomed past and packed his Grande Suzuki, (what else?) at a fuel station ahead, only to return moments later and act as one of the witnesses. 

Kigali  being Kigali, in an instant after the official hit the man who had moments earlier left his home that is situated on the eastern throngs of our beloved city people gathered quickly, I don’t know where they normally come from, but there is already a crowd. They crawl from the woodwork. They surrounded this hapless man. The city gives birth to them in throngs. As a senior city official he must have known better, which begs the question, how did he get his senior management post in the first place? 

But anyway he stood among the crowds and was also innocently asking like everybody else; " What happened? Who knocked him? What was the number plate of the vehicle he was driving?"

 Really City official which movies do you watch? You are advised to discard Ki'Nigeria if you survive a very long sentencing in 1930.

The line of actions that this official should have done is left to you the reader,  but since this is Kigali that we are still talking about, conspiracy is already doing the rounds. It is now on record that the dead man testified earlier in a Gacaca court case were the brother of the official was accused and sentenced for his role in the 1994 Genocide.

Intellectual property rights; are we ready for this war in Kigali?

BY GEORGE KAGAME

Before we saw a computer in Africa, (I am very aware that many communities in Africa have not yet seen or known about the magic of computers. And On a personal level, as a graduate of a major African journalism school in the mid 2000s, and working as a business reporter for a first street national daily, the wonder that is google.com was revealed to me by  my good friend Mansur Kakimba a year after my first journalism job. 

I was so excited and delighted about the discovery that I wrote an op-ed and appropriately titled it: "God bless google for our careers." AS usual I was a late comer on the ICT wagon.) 

Back to the hammock. 

The computer heralded in Africa easier access to recreational activities by ordinary folks as was never seen before, even though late in these things as normally is the case with most trends in Africa, the computer was both a blessing and a curse in equal measure. 

For Africans that have never seen and or still don't know how to use a computer, either as a result of high costs, lack of connection to electricity, knowledge, relevance and awareness the thing was received and dismissed as a symbol of the elite and all the trademarks that the elite in Africa carry around. But the emergence of Ki'Nigeria, (I will not explain what this is as I assume that ya'll know what it is, had such a phenomenal appeal that most people sighed pleasantly for the blessing of computers and the entrepreneurship of pirating it brought.)

The computer made it possible for many Africans to become entrepreneurs and aficionados on matters of sport, love, and leisure as it brought movies, music and secretarial services to even the most rural of AFrican communities. I was one of such investors in my hometown of Kansanga a suburb of one East Africa's greatest cities. 

Situated close to Ggabba landing site me and my best friend Fred Mugisha aka Junior decided once after a hard labour working day at HotLoaf bakery to open a music and movie rental business on Ggaba landing site on the shores of Lake Victoria. In 2006 we opened up Low Life Records, the business operated in a roadside single room which also served as a men's hair saloon. WE only needed a computer affixed with a DVD and CD burner, a video cassette player that also served as an amplifier as well as two loud speakers that we placed at the entrance of the saloon.

Having grown up in the neighbourhood, I was in charge of acquiring music files from my friends, purchasing the computer and marketing the business for new clients. This was an easy task as ours was the first CD burning and movie rental store on one of the busiest landing and fishing villages on the mighty Lake Victoria. Junior on the other hand was the know how   of the machines and the technical work involved in our pirating venture. Soon the business was booming. As a testimony to the increasing fortunes we changed the name from Low Life Records to Two Eyes Productions. Among our new services was video coverage for emerging musical talents as well as weddings in the vicinity. 

Our business was one of the signs which signified the end of the deity that the DJ. Most people in the area stopped going to discos, the mantra and pedestal of the DJ was demystified. His trade was made irrelevant by businesses such as ours. People made selections of their favourite songs and brought their playlists to us and we would burn this into a cassette tape recorder or CD and charge a reasonable fee for our music an service. It was good days. The computer was then just beginning to break into the African mindset. What Two Eyes Productions was doing was illegal but since it was bringing food on the table and no one had made any noises we continued our music and movie business. 

To explain to you the enigma of computers I will tell you a story from my good friend Charles Onyango Obbo. Onyango says that in the days when the computer was just starting its voyage in East Africa he was one of a select few that had an email address as well as a computer connected to the internet. Because of such rarities he was a major connection between his various friends and their relatives that were living in Europe and North America. 

He says that in the days before internet cafes became common he practiced a virtual internet dictatorship where his colleagues would use his computer to write their relatives in developed countries. In the process Onyango says he was privy to the most personal and bizarre of secrets and hoo haa of his 'subjects' who (through him and his email address were communicating to their long lost relatives and lovers in the west.)

On the other hand, Two Eyes and many other music dubbing businesses were not the only culprits in breaking intellectual property rights and laws. The musicians whose music we were illegally dubbing were also copying and defrauding other peoples' music and instrumental creations and voicing over their banal lyrics to sell their own brands. It was an industry of unoriginality dubbing, piracy and illegal copying. 

As with most things showbiz, Dar Salaam was the very first, not only did they expand EAC music and dance through this business, (since most musicians sang in Swahili, they would reproduce works of other people and simply change lyrics from other languages into Swahili. The audience would not tell whether what they heard in Swahili was the original or in case later a version of the same thing turned up in a different language was the pirated one. And since since this was the time of Bongo flava, the local was always the authentic.

The Wa'Bongo also led in the CD dubbing business which would be worked out in 'secretarial services' centres , through this, they further led the EAC version of manufactured pop groups and led the move to East Africa's reincarnation of South Africa's Kwaito dance as well as the authentic African style hip hop known as Bongo flava.

The moral of this story is that I was shocked last week when I read that Kigali Police authorities had arrested several young men for pirating music records. I was sympathetic that the poor fellows, upon questioning said they did not hitherto know that they had been breaking the law. 

Their arrest spells good for the fortunes of local musicians and artists but it should also be a moral to the artists that we as the audience will now expect them to produce more authentic work. Because when I listen to KGB's "Arasharamye' I can easily notice that it is a copy of R. Kelly's "Burning Up," and therefore I should not be arrested for pirating such a product. And it is not only KGB, the current international music industry with the exception of Kenya's Mejja is full of banal and crass works.

Africa’s rendez-vous with music, commerce and the DJ

By George KAGAME

We Africans are renowned for our love of music, drama and dance. In fact racist people all over the world, coined the term Kumbaya, an otherwise spiritual song by black Americans, to identify with Africans. The term was given the image of short people with small bodies, big circled stomachs, huge heads and leaves tied around their bodies. They spent their entire time on the universe, drumming and dancing under the tree shades during the day, and under the brilliant moonlight in the nights. In fairness to the said racists, Gutarama was such a favourite pastime in my home town before the DJs and FM radios created customized entertainment. Everything about this Kumbaya image screamed kwashiorkor in your head. If you gave it a caption, it would read cynicism and sympathy, with words like, “Oh those miserable people, they are so poor but happy.” The idea that we love music is true, but the images that have been coined to the idea and thereby branding Africa and its people are wrong. Speaking as someone that has been blessed to visit and work in DR Congo and South Africa; I can write with some authority that indeed the love of music and dance runs in our genes. And is it not true that the people in those two countries have seen some really bad times? For all their talents and fortunes, west and North Africans have never really been known for music and dance, at least in mainstream Africa. Just as music and dance are so popular on the continent, the people that play it are revered. From the Fela Kuti dynasty in Nigeria, Salif Keita in Mali, Youssuo N’Dour in Senegal and your pick in DR Congo, South Africa, and Zimbabwe. These music stars enjoy iconic status. But since most of them ply their trade in Europe and overseas, not many Africans ever get to see them perform. And many of these fans are average Africans who sell produce in the local markets. They cannot also afford to purchase the work of their musical heroes. Therefore most of us were left to middlemen, to taste the sounds our favourite music tunes. These middlemen in my early teenage years were the DJs, and they worked in conjunction with the market cassette tape seller, who appeared on special market days near the village square along with other nomadic merchants. They appeared at intervals of a week or a month. The cassette tape salesman, set up his stall near the entrance of the market, but since most village markets were randomly set up in an open redundant expanse, they never had any structure. The cassette tape seller set up his shop at the most vantage point. He would attract clients by placing his small watts speaker in a large empty box that would act as an amplifier. The sound it produced was really annoying, but his intention was not to give potential clients quality tasting. The louder his makeshift boom box shouted, the happier he was. He only wanted to attract people to his stall and not to please them. Noise is a good and important thing for us Africans, but this is a topic for another day. The cassette salesman was responsible for the gradual death of Gutarama in my neighbourhood and all its side advantages. The cassette salesman, has been an eternal feature of African markets from the time the Arabs helped us change from a barter to monetary system of trade, and set forth the village market day commerce, that later gave rise to Africa’s first commercial centres like Timbukutu, Tabora and most urban centres on East Africa’s coastline. These were the first years of Africa’s liaison with mercantile trade, and this salesman, basically sold music composed and performed by the local church choir and local folklore. In later years, music performance evolved and there were many composers of other music genres and places yonder which came up. The salesman even became more important. And it was befitting that he was a VIP amongst all traders in the village market. To start with, we never had radio coverage in most parts of Africa till the late 1990s and as such, whenever there was a military coup de tat, ubiquitous throughout Africa, the most important instrument of power that the soldiers took first, and that which most symbolized the change of power was the radio station. There’s no point in explaining what radio station it was, as most African countries had only one radio station serving the whole country. In my hometown, which interestingly is only 35 miles from a capital city, there is a legend that once, there was a change of government three times in a row, and the locals never knew about it till one day, somebody came to the village speaking a strange language with a gun. In this village they have since sworn to hate the language this man spoke. This language was Swahili. The cassette tape salesman claimed to understand Swahili, and he also claimed that he never had anyone in the village with whom to speak. He in fact, sold music performed in Swahili by Congolese artists or so he told the community. We were later to learn that in fact the Congolese sang in Lingala not Swahili as the salesman had told us. But who were we to doubt the cassette salesman? He who had brought us music! Some of us that could not afford to buy his Judi Boucher, Don Williams, Yvonne Chaka Chaka and Chiko Chimora tapes, would go to the market on the said special day not to purchase anything but to dance at his stall, inadvertently helping him to attract even more clients. But above the cassette salesman, was an even more important person, more prominent than even the local church priest. He was the DJ. In later years and as Africa developed and connected, the DJ was responsible for compiling songs of different artistes onto one cassette, which would be sold through the market cassette tape salesman as the middleman. The DJ was so important that the best musicians of the day composed songs in his honour. Chaka Chaka’s “Thank you Mr. DJ” comes to mind, you can add your favourites. The DJ, however, lost his place on our musical pedestal with the onset of HIV/Aids, as the man (there were very few female DJs earlier) schmoozed his way into many bras and pants of any agile women. In the process the DJ, the truck driver and later the motor cycle man, were responsible for the penetration of the disease and many other STDs in many families, schools and communities. This was all before the computer revolutionized Africa’s musical rendezvous and its people. And now the rules of piracy are catching up with the computer too. Ditto Rwanda’s piracy laws. Till next weekend!

Wael Badawy: 2010 Calgary Immigrant of Distinction Professional Award

Distinguished Professional Award

Wael Badawy

Next time you enter a building or premises in Calgary with video cameras hoisted and recording happenings at the place; think of the vision of Calgary resident Wael Badawy. Following his passion for video analytics and related research, Badawy embarked on a long journey from his alma mater at the University of Alexandria in Egypt, moving to Canada in 1997 when he was accepted into Concordia University in Montreal for a M.Sc in Computer Engineering and then transferred to the University of Louisiana.

Upon the completion of his PhD in Computer Engineering in the field of video compression and architecture he joined the University of Calgary in 2000 from whence he has been to-date. At the U of C, Dr. Badawy is credited with helping to found the Lab for Integrate Video Systems. Later the lab led to the creation of IntelliView Technologies Inc which has spearheaded video surveillance technology in Canada and abroad.

The company's work can be seen at the Market Mall, Calgary Stampede Grounds, the Calgary Health Region and the U of C. Badawy has developed some of the most important software technology that the firm employs in its services and spearheaded the commercialization of Canadian video technology through IntelliView Technologies Inc. 

Some these include; systems for safety and security, integrated IP camera with built in DVR, video systems using multi-sensor and sensor fusion to profile cargo in containers that is used by the US HLS department at DOT weigh stations. Badawy is also the brains behind security systems that protect remote sites from intruders and trespassers, this technology is used by many oil and gas companies in Alberta and Canada. The firm has also created partnerships with multinational companies including Microsoft, IBM, Panasonic and Sony. 

IntelliView has offices in Calgary and Ottawa and its flagship technology is is giving video surveillance tools to companies to enhance their site security and operations, owns 11 patents in vidoe analytic development and applications. 

It is also developing a software that will be used in health centres and hospitals in monitoring the movements of patients on beds, this will prevent patient falls and reduce the risk of injury to senior citizens which is currently taking a big chunk on health care costs.

Badawy say; "I believe , technology should   improve the everyday lives of Canadians. If I can reduce stress and give people a sense of security then, I feel I have made a difference."

Peter Hacket, a Fellow of the National Institute of Nanotechnology and professor in the School of Business at the University of Alberta says Badawy is an excellent academic and entrepreneur, he notes; "I have known Dr. Badawy in my role as President and CEO of Alberta Ingenuity Fund as a Professor at the University of Calgary and CEO of Intelliview Technologies Inc. His students and company have won a number of Alberta Ingenuity's competitive grants and awards. He has also contributed greatly to the Alberta research and innovation community at large through his participation in a variety of consultations and initiatives."

As a testimony to the spirit of Canada, IntelliView employs more than 20 professional from a wide array of backgrounds with a shared passion for video software and securities. Badawy is married to Ghada and they have three young boys. In his free time he volunteers in various academic and management positions at the U of C, 

He has edited many professional journals in his academic field including Journal of Computer Science, Journal on Circuit and Systems, Sensor Letters, Canadian Journal on Computer and Electrical Engineering, as well as various academic publications in leading academic libraries.

Mrs Idrees A. Khan: Calgary 2010 Immigrants of Distinction Awards Community Services Nominee

2010 Immigrants of Distinction Awards

Community Services Nominee

Mrs Idrees A. Khan

Idrees A. Khan is very conscious of her identity and that of Canada, it tells from upon observation of her work with the Calgary muslim community. A muslim from a conservative background in her native Karachi in Pakistan, Mrs Khan arrived in Canada in 1972, with her degree in Economics from the University of Karachi and embarked on a career in the oil industry in Edmonton.

Having lost her father at an early age, Mrs Khan was raised by her mother who instilled in her a sense of love for community and serving individuals with less luck in society.  Khan was given a good education but she was very aware that even with her education success in her career would be deterred by cultural boundaries tied to women in Pakistan and so she moved to Canada to be able to explore her full potential. Upon arriving in Canada in 1972 she got a job with Esso-Imperial oil in Edmonton. Later she married Zia Khan an accountant and the family moved to Calgary and continued her work in the oil industry by getting a job with Sunoco.

But such is the power of her passion for community service that Mrs Khan changed careers and started to get involved with in the local and growing community of muslims. She was particularly concerned that many of the social issues affecting this Calgary community were not being discussed in the mainstream forums. Calgarians of the muslim religion needed help with education, guidance in getting acclimatized to Canadian culture, learning English as a new language, family and parenting issues as well as access to important basic services like food and clothing for many in difficult economic situations. She went back to Mount Royal College to increase her knowledge of Calgary social challenges  and studied various programmes in social work and administration.

The education she acquired from Mount Royal College helped Khan to found the Muslim Families Network Society in 2003. This initiative brought about a forum through which issues of refugees, immigrants, poverty and family hardships were discussed and solutions sought from a cross section of stake-holders in Alberta. She also started the Muslim Halal Food Bank in 2004 to help with the outsourcing and provision of food to poor Muslims living in Calgary, this food bank offers supplementary basic services to individuals and families on social welfare assistance or unemployment insurance, refugees and new immigrants. 

Mrs Khan offers counseling and support services at the North of McKnight Community Centre by bridging the knowledge and language gap for new immigrants and refugees by providing useful information about the various initiatives available for them as offered by the federal and provincial governments and where to find such services.

Further more,  Mrs Khan also started the Big Sister/Brother program where muslim children can fully embrace their identity, learn the importance of caring, sharing, tolerance, patience and team work. She also has organized many conferences in Calgary where issues that are important to her and the community are discussed by various stakeholders. 

These include; raising teenagers, spousal abuse, children and seniors' neglect and or abuse. In all her work, Mrs Khan gives the youth and parents an opportunity to share their knowledge and skills such that the young can develop into muslim leaders that have a balanced understanding of Islam and how it fits into the western indigenous culture. She continues to volunteer by hosting people in search of emergency at Inn From The Cold Society, Muslim Association of Calgary and at the North of McKnight Centre.

Bea Twumasi: 2010 Calgary Immigrants of Distinction Awards Business Award

Calgary 2010 Immigrants of Distinction Awards

Business Award

Bea Twumasi

Walking into her shop situated on 222, 17 Ave SE Calgary one is reminded of everything about customer care and 'feeling at home.' On top of an array of cosmetic products on display, smiles and laughter are among the most salient features of Bea Twumasi's business.

Beas Braiding and Extensions has been called "Calgary's answer to bad hair", it might as well be but the salon does much more than just hair. In fact it is among the most enduring features of Calgary for hair care and has been an icon of the city life for 17 years. The proprietor of the business; Twumasi, has been braiding and weaving since she was a child in her native Ghana of West Africa having learnt the trade from her mother, she started doing it as a businesses when she moved to Calgary in 1974 and her basement suit acted as a saloon. 

Such is the significance of Bea Braiding and Extensions that it has been featured in the business section of the Calgary Herald, the Calgary Sun, and Global TV's Breakfast show.  The salon is a major participant in the Calgary high schools Beauty Culture Program mentoring students interested in a career in beauty and costmetics. From this program students get a chance to intern at the saloon and some are even luckier as they are retained for employment. Twumasi has also provided hair extensions and accessories to Calgary's movie and music industry players. Currently there are 5 permanent employees of Beas Braiding and Extensions, the salon also exhibits art pieces made by new immigrants to Calgary.

Twumasi grew up as an only child with a single mother in Kumasi a major commercial centre in @@@@Ghana. Her mother Agnes Okyem ensured Twumasi learnt about entrepreneurship earlier in life, she was taught hair braiding at home but the daughter turned out to be a teacher instead but hair care remained her first love was hair care. In 1974, Twumasi immigrated to Canada and has since been living in Calgary with her husband Emmanuel Twumasi an oil engineer, they have three children. 

Immediately after arriving in Canada Twumasi enrolled in the University of Calgary and graduated with a bachelor of Education. Having learnt the ethics of work earlier on from her mother she worked for the Calgary Catholic School Board and cleaned offices in the evenings to take good care of her young family then, she later worked as a Rehabilitation supervisor for people with mental and physical difficulties at the Legion Group Home. In her free time Twumasi started a hair care business in the basement of her family home.

While she worked as a manager at Legion Group her basement salon continued existing and later hired more staff, her client base expanded from a predominantly ethnic composition "and crossed cultural lines" according to Gloria Mensah who has known Twumasi for 25 years . Demand for her services grew so big that her home salon needed an independent premise of its own. In 1993 Beas Braiding and Weaving opened its doors on 17 Eve SE, it was among the first ethnic hair saloons in Calgary back then and Twumasi resigned her managerial job to concentrate on her love of hair care. She hired 6 staff members and according Mensah, many of these maiden staff members have since gone on to open their own hair saloons. 

As a living witness to the great Canadian success story Twumasi wants to share the inspiration of her transition and her success from being a child of a broken family, young and challenged immigrant to Calgary in the 1970s to entrepreneur. Twumasi a Calgary role model, she is part of efforts that enhance the spirit of Alberta as a home for all. From new comers to Canada, young people that are in need of guidance in life and celebrating the true joy of living in Canadda. 

She is currently working with the McBride group which seeks to help job seekers learn skills and trades that they can use to find meaningful employment. She participates in various events like the Carifest, the Calgary Women's Show and Afrikadey. These events are some of the features that make Calgary city a community of fun, work, love, peace and creativity for Calgarians of all walks of life.