Hon. Brogya Genfi has honoured his boss and superior, Dr Edward Omane Boamah, with a touching tribute at the state funeral.
Deeply pained by the loss which has left him distraught, Hon. Genfi recalled his time with him at the Defence Ministry as his deputy.
Mentor, confidant, and an inspiration, Dr Omane Boamah was a man for all. He was loved and respected by peers and subordinates.
Dr Omane Boamah died in a tragic military helicopter crash along with Dr Murtala Mohammed, Dr Samuel Sarpong, Samuel Aboagye, Sgt Ernest Nii Addo, Flying Officer Twum Ampadu, and Squadron Leader Peter Annala on August 6, 2025, at Adansi Akrofuom.
Hon. Brogya Genfi’s tribute to Dr Edward Omane Boamah
My Dear Mentor,
Receiving news of the tragedy that claimed your life was the hardest moment of mine. Words cannot capture the depth of my shock, the agitation of my spirit, and the
helplessness that has stilled my body.
Until now, I held onto hope that—just as the news came suddenly—I would be met with a pleasant surprise that you had escaped this misfortune. Yet with each passing moment, my hope dissolves into tears, and my optimism fades with every drop.
Now, I am left with even more questions than ever. But the one who once answered them is gone. I wonder if they will ever be answered, or if they will simply echo in the silence you’ve left behind—with each new thought a knock at a door that will never again
open to me.
You were not just my boss. You were my role model and my mentor. From the very first time I encountered you years ago, I was struck by the quality of thought you expressed, the depth of industry that flowed from every word you spoke, and the aura and grace you
carried into every public appearance.
I still recall, as if it were yesterday, more than 12 years ago on the 30th of January 2013, when I uttered the words that would prove prophetic— that one day, I would love to serve as your deputy and learn under your tutelage.
I am in pain, Boss. Deep pain. Forced to confront the cruel truth that the dream of working with
you endured longer than the reality. You were a committed Catholic who never wavered in your conviction that no human endeavour stands without the hand of God.
You believed it is God who lifts women and men. You believed it was God who orchestrated every moment—including the time I was assigned as your deputy. You held me close, and in trust, offered me opportunities and deliberately delegated responsibilities that gave me the vantage of a principal, even while I remained your subordinate—just so I could build experience and sharpen my skills.
Boss, it is so difficult to accept that you are no more. How does one make peace with the thought that his friend, brother, mentor, and role model is in a better place, when there was no prior arrangement, no whisper of farewell—only a sudden departure,
a sudden flight, and an aching void where your voice used to be?
Oh, Boss, it is true that you lived fully, with cheer and cordiality toward all you encountered. You were excellent and unwavering in your commitment to our nation. You poured yourself wholly into your work, giving your best in every season, and leaving a legacy that will outlive the span of your years. Though tragedy has cut your journey short, you spent it entirely in the line of duty—faithful to the very end.
This tragedy has tested me. Yet I am left with gratitude for having shared a piece of the gift of your life. I am left with hope in the promise of the
resurrection. You gave your life to Ghana, and I strongly believe Ghana will never forget. Your legacy is etched in the fabric of our nation’s defence and in the hearts of those you mentored. I will honour you not only
in grief, but in duty. You showed me the way but left me lonely on the way at a time I least expected. Rest well, Mentor. Your mission is complete.
Boss, Kafra! Due ne Amanehunu! Amen.
