Valedictorians’ Speeches by Keisha Konadu Owusu Asante and Adolf Lobowicz

Keisha Konadu Owusu Asante

“Who was the first person to walk on the moon?”

“Neil Armstrong!” I answered my Year 3 class teacher, whom I had just broken the exciting news to, or so I thought.

“Who was the second man to walk on the moon?” she asked.

My 8-year-old self-stood there, my eyebrows sinking between my eyes, confused as to why she didn’t sound as excited as I was.

“And the third?” she followed.

Obviously, I didn’t have the answers to the two follow-up questions.

“Don’t settle for being remembered as almost. Strive to be your best, because greatness belongs to those who give their all,” Ms. Lydia Kwarteng said.

That day, without even realizing it, I learnt a lesson that would stay with me for the rest of my life. At first, I couldn’t seem to understand why she wasn’t happy that I had moved from 8th place to 3rd place in the previous term. But as I grew older and reflected on that interaction, I began to understand that the world remembers those who dare to stand out. Not because second or third place has no value, but because excellence leaves a lasting mark. And now, ten years later, I stand here today as one of the two valedictorians for the graduating Class of 2026.

Distinguished guests, school management, parents, teaching and non-teaching staff, ICS leaders, and fellow members of the graduating Class of 2026, good afternoon.

It is with immense gratitude that we stand before you today as the valedictorians of the Class of 2026. On this day, we celebrate not only the conclusion of a defining era of our lives, but also the countless memories, shared struggles, victories, and resilience that have made us who we are today.

To many of us, this day marks a bittersweet goodbye to the 6 a.m. P1 tests, the endless “blasting” from Mr. Nanny, Mr. Obeng’s dad jokes in the middle of Chemistry class, Mr. Oscar’s parables we never fully understood, the fun Biology classes, and many other unforgettable moments. Beneath all those memories, however, lies a journey that shaped us in ways we may not have noticed at the time.

My ICS journey began 16 years ago in Nursery 1 Lily, and while I may not remember my very first day, I know that over the years I have gained far more than academic knowledge. This school has shaped the way I think, challenged me to grow, and given me experiences and memories that I will carry with me long after today.

Throughout my journey at ICS, the core value of “Excellence” has shaped my perspective in more ways than I can explain. It has influenced the way I learn, the way I carry myself, and the standards I set not only for my academics, but for the person I hope to become.

Yet beyond personal growth, excellence has also become something more personal to me. It has been shaped by a quiet but persistent awareness of the subtle stereotypes that still exist around women and intelligence. In some spaces, there can still be unspoken assumptions about what women can or cannot achieve academically or in leadership. Rather than discouraging me, this awareness strengthened my resolve. It taught me to remain consistent, push through challenges, and always give my best regardless of the expectations placed on me.

To my parents, thank you for being the foundation behind everything I have achieved. To my dad, thank you for your sacrifices, support, and constant encouragement. And to my mom, thank you for showing me what strength and wisdom truly look like. So much of the person I am today comes from watching and learning from you both. Thank you for believing in me, pushing me, and standing by me every step of the way. This achievement is as much yours as it is mine.

To my teachers, thank you for your patience, guidance, and constant encouragement to strive for excellence. And above all, I am deeply thankful to God for carrying me through every step of the journey and for being my strength in difficult times.

To the ones still writing their ICS story, as cliché as it may sound, it is not going to be easy. As you progress from one year level to another, the difficulty only intensifies. There will be moments of stress, frustration, self-doubt, and fear of the future. We have all been there.

But during those moments, trust God, persevere, and keep going. Remember that the challenges you face in the present become the experiences that shape your story, and never underestimate how far hard work and determination can take you.

To my fellow graduands, as we venture into the real world, now without the strict boarding house routines and the constant guidance we have become accustomed to, may we carry with us the values of excellence, integrity, empathy, respect, and care for both ourselves and others that ICS has instilled in us over the years.

Class of 2026, let us go out there and pursue the careers we have always dreamed of, and become individuals who will make a lasting positive impact on the world.

Thank you.

Adolf Lobowicz

For four years, I had the same art teacher. Year 1 through Year 4. And I loved her the way you only love a teacher when you’re young enough to not yet know how rare she is.

She taught me to speak through art. How to take what was tangled inside a kid who didn’t know how to express himself and put it somewhere it could be seen.

I remember one afternoon. She sat us down, placed strips of colored paper before us, and told us to weave. Over, under, over, under. I remember looking early on at a mess of crossing lines, the frustration of something that hadn’t yet become anything. I almost stopped. I remember that clearly. I almost stopped.

But she walked past and said, quietly, almost to herself: “The ones who keep going past the mess are the ones who get to see the pattern.”

So I kept going. And the pattern came.

She left at the end of Year 4, when I was nine. I didn’t know I’d spend a decade inside that sentence. Somewhere along the way, I found a name for what she was describing: the law of accumulation. It states that everything you do counts. Every single thing builds towards the pattern or breaks it. There is no neutral.

She never called it that. But that is what she taught me.

Strip by strip. Year by year. Every choice a thread I didn’t know I was weaving. Until today, when I looked up and saw the pattern I had become.

Today, I have mixed feelings of delight and sorrow. Delighted to see how happy my fellow graduates are. After the seemingly endless homework, exams, long tests, and stress, we managed to survive without any casualties. Seeing each of my batch mates’ faces somehow gives me a little flashback of the many different memories with every one of you. I know we have all shared amazing memories, recorded viral TikToks that were worth all the trouble, the deep bonding we had on our Kakum and Semenhyia trips, the late-night FIFA matches, the 2 AM basketball games, and the times we cried on each other’s shoulders. To our doomscrollers and troublemakers, thank you for all the fun times and laughs we shared. I see that the bonds between us will never break and that this will be something we will always have. We have grown up together, matured, and have come to know each other as siblings. But just like in most families, one way or another, siblings must say their goodbye eventually.

To our high school teachers, namely: Mr. Obeng, Mr. Asante, Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Adofo, Mr. Nanny, Mrs. Woanya, Mr. Yeboah, Mr. Nsiah, Mr. Duopah, Mr. Sadaya, Mrs. Aunty, Mr. Oscar and Mr. Pilgrim, thank you for always believing that we could do better, and for looking out for us throughout high school. You were truly all more than just teachers to us all. To our counselors, thank you for the open doors and the patient ears on the days we needed them most. To our house tutors, thank you for being our first home away from home. To the kitchen staff, thank you for keeping us fed through every long day. To our administrative staff, thank you for keeping everything running behind the scenes so we never had to think twice about it. To the cleaners, you never stood at a podium, but your work made ours possible. And to our security, thank you for making sure we always felt safe within these walls.

Now, to the one I owe the greatest thanks of all. I am standing here because of a woman who sacrificed in ways I am still learning to fully understand. My mother. You always have a way to put a smile on my face, and you instill lessons in my head that continuously develop me into a fine young man. Thank you for supporting me morally and financially, and most of all, thank you for bringing me into this world. To my mother, and to every parent in this room who carried weights so we wouldn’t have to: this stage belongs to you. You gave us your best, and because of that, we had no choice but to give you ours. Lastly, to the one above all of us, we say thank you for keeping us going, even when it got difficult.