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Dr Peprah-Gyamfi

Dr Robert Gyamfi's medical advice for the layman. More »

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This is a health education manual with a difference! First, it is clearly written, in a friendly and easy to follow manner that will make it invaluable for the layman who does not have a full understanding of how the human body functions, to come to grips with the essential causes of diseases and medical cures.

The book is unique in so far as it is addressed largely to the Christian reader. The book traces the origin of disease to the fall of man in Eden, where the Creator made everything perfect and saw that "all was good".

From a medical and Christian point of view this book will advocate a lifestyle that will best serve the reader to prevent disease, for prevention is always better than cure! And where a cure is needed, the right mental attitude, not forgetting the unlimited power of prayer, is probably the most important resource.



Over the last several weeks I have spent time recollecting how we led our life at Mpintimpi, the tiny village in Ghana where I was born and bred

Recalling and recreating events that happened over forty years ago was a challenging task. The experience aroused different types of emotions in me. There were times when I was amused about some of the things I went through and laughed out loud! There were other instances when, surprised by what I had done in the past, I exclaimed: "Could you really have done that!" On the other hand there were moments when I was so touched, yes, when I was overcome by my emotions and could barely hold my tears back.

The end result or my efforts is the book, GROWING UP IN A SMALL AFRICAN VILLAGE, which has just been published. Originally conceived as a single edition, it has, following requests to supply some schools in Ghana, ended up in three different versions—a General, an Abridged and a Children's Edition. The last two editions are meant for the Secondary and Primary Schools respectively.

GROWING UP IN A SMALL AFRICAN VILLAGE is a ‘must read’, not only because it is entertaining, but because the proceeds from the sale of the book will go towards the establishment of a hospital in Ghana—a hospital that will be called THE CHRIST KING HOSPITAL which will provide cheap medical care for the poor and destitute of society.

Copies of each of the three editions can be obtained either directly from me, or from any leading bookshop, both traditional and online.

Those wishing to donate money to help with the Hospital Project may do so by clicking on the Ministry Support button of the website. For further details concerning the book and also the proposed hospital, please contact me. Contact details will be found on the website.


IN THE MIDDLE OF 1969 a highly contagious eye disease began to afflict not only residents of the little village but also the population of Ghana as a whole. Reports even spoke of the disease having spread to other countries in West Africa. Though several years ago, I recall the typical symptoms of the disease—a red, painful and itchy eye. The moment an individual in a household was afflicted, it was just a matter of days if not hours before it spread to the other inhabitants.

Readers might recall that the Apollo 11 mission landed on the moon on 20th July 1969. The eye disease, coming hard on the heels, as it were, after the time of the Apollo 11 landing on the moon, led to rumours spreading throughout Ghana (and probably beyond) to the effect that the crew of that historic mission brought the disease back with them on their return from the moon! Subsequently, the eye disease, which was later christened acute hemorrhagic conjunctivitis, AHC for short, by the medical experts and said to be caused by the AHC virus, came to be known as ‘Apollo 11’! Almost every resident of our village fell victim to what to us was a mysterious eye disease. Fortunately, the disease vanished the way it came, without leaving lasting scars on its victims.

The eye infection coinciding with the Apollo 11 mission helped to raise the awareness of the villagers of the mission and at the same time help nurture all kinds of rumours and speculations within the predominantly illiterate population as to the motive behind the mission.

“The Americans have plans to settle on the moon in future!” someone claimed.

“The Americans have plans to install a bomb on the moon from where they can hit the Russians!” another rumour had it.

Mother contributed to the debate in her own way.

“Who can take me to those responsible for the mission to the moon?”

she began.

“What do you want from them?” one of her children inquired.

“I want to discuss one or two issues with them!”

“What, then?”

“I want to tell them to their face my own opinion of their undertaking.”

“What will you tell them?”

“It will be plain speaking, very plain speaking. I will begin like this: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention? I hail from a very little village with the difficult to pronounce name, Mpintimpi. In our village, our children die from want of good drinking water. We have no hospital near us. Worse still, the road linking us to the distant hospital is in such a bad state, the sick are so shaken in the vehicles transporting them, some die before they get there. Time will not allow me to list all our woes. The village dwellers have learnt that you are extremely wealthy. Your wealth has enabled you to venture to the moon. Could you please be merciful to us, honourable ladies and gentlemen, and help us develop our village? Please do something for us before we die in our poverty.’”

“No one will listen to you, mother! They will tell you that matters in regard to the development of your village do not fall within their sphere of responsibility. You would be better advised to bring your needs before the Government in Accra than waste money, time and energy to travel the distance to America to bother them with your problems.”

“I would refuse to allow them to send me away with such arguments. No, never!”

“What else could you do?”

“‘Wait a moment, ladies and gentlemen,’ I would hit back, ‘we share the same planet, we breathe the same air, we all suffer when the vehicles stuffing your streets pollute the atmosphere. Even more recently all the residents of my village have been suffering as a result of your mission to the moon. Look at my eyes, ladies and gentlemen! You notice how red they have turned? I am suffering from the ‘Apollo 11’ eye disease your people brought back with them from the moon!’”

They would say “How can you prove, old woman, that our mission has anything, directly or indirectly, to do with your eye disease?”

“Ah, you children of today! Never since the time of our forefathers has there been such an outbreak in our peaceful village. Take it from me, your people brought it with them!”

NEW A book by Dr Peprah-Gyamfi


We got up early on a typical school day. The first task for the day was to walk to the Nwi River, about a mile away to fetch water for the home. The water was collected in plastic or aluminium buckets of various sizes, each capable of holding between five to ten litres of water. We carried the load on our heads. On a typical day we undertook two to three trips. In the rainy season, when there was usually sufficient supply of water at home, we were spared that daily early morning routine.

When time permitted, we did have a proper bath; if, on the other hand, we were hard-pressed for time, we washed only our heads, our armpits and both legs from the knee downwards. Next, we hastily ate our breakfast, made up mainly of boiled plantains and stew.

It was customary for all children from Mpintimpi heading for school at Nyafoman to do so in a single group. The practice was for those who got ready first to go round the homes of the children to urge them to hurry up. There were times, though, when the group could not wait forever for one to be ready before heading for school.

Children as young as six years old, walking a distance of two miles to school—the mind boggles! And yet that was precisely the case. The bigger ones, those in the upper classes, kept an eye on the little ones as we journeyed on. We walked along the main road leading to Nkawkaw. Though traffic on it was sparse, we could still reckon with a few vehicles passing by in either direction as we journeyed on. The road was not tarred; beside that, it had potholes in several places. As a result, the vehicles could not travel with considerable speed. This allowed us sufficient time to ‘park’ ourselves along the fringes of the road long before the vehicles reached us.

In the dry season, the passing vehicles left considerable dust in their trails. That was a source of considerable irritation, not only because we were forced to inhale the dust but also because it resulted in our uniforms getting dirty.

If the dust was a source of vexation, then the other factor in the equation, namely the rain, was less comforting. In the geographical region where we lived, it either rained or shined. If it poured down heavily in the morning long before we set out for school, we stayed away from school for that entire day. Usually, however, the rains did not come down early in the morning. Instead, it caught us by surprise just as we were heading for school, or returning home from school. In such situations, we were left with no other choice than to take an involuntary shower, for hardly any of us carried an umbrella. If by chance one of us was carrying a cutlass to be used to weed on his or her plot (more on the issue of plots later), we cut the broad leaves of a banana or plantain tree growing in the farms bordering the road and used them as improvised umbrellas.

Sometimes the problems brought by the rain were compounded by the passing vehicles! As I just pointed out, the road was not devoid of potholes. When it rained ‘ponds’ of water gathered in several places on the road so when the passing vehicles drove through them, they sent splashes of dirty water in all directions to soil our clothes. Some of the drivers left the impression on our minds that they just wanted to show the ‘young academics’ on the road who really was in charge of the roads, for they drove through ‘pothole ponds’ that, in our opinion, could have been avoided!

Even if the vehicle passing by on a rainy day did not cause us problems, the mud caused by the rain did so by soiling our feet. Fortunately, there was a small stream a few hundred metres away from school so we headed there and cleaned our feet before reaching the school compound.

The fact that all of us, without any exception, walked barefooted to school brought with it its own peculiar problems. In the dry season, the scorching tropical sun heated the ground we were walking on. As we walked along, we could feel the burning sensation under our soles.

On some occasions, the driver of a vehicle pulled over and gave us a lift! Those were very rare instances, though. In the first place, most of the vehicles that passed by were already filled to the last seat. Even if a vehicle boasted a few unoccupied seats, the fact that we usually walked in a group of not less than six pupils at a time might have dissuaded the driver from pulling to a stop and taking only a fraction along. It is not hard to imagine the consternation on the faces of those who were left behind!

NEW A book by Dr Peprah-Gyamfi

Revised Edition

Since it was first published in June 2004, THE CALL THAT CHANGED MY LIFE, an account of how the Lord called me from my little village Mpintimpi in rural Ghana and led me all the way to the Hanover Medical School in Germany, has been favourably received by the majority of readers who have contacted me about it.

The Revised Edition, apart from correcting a few typographical errors in the original version and also depicting a new cover design, is completely unchanged from the original version.

It is my hope that this amazing account of determination and perseverance in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds will inspire the reader to strive, with the help of Almighty God, to overcome any hurdle that comes his/her way in life.

A book by Dr Peprah-Gyamfi


This is a collection of sermons based on: Psalm 46 (God is our refuge and strength); Mark 4 (The Storms of Life), and finally Genesis 41 (Joseph’s experience with the ‘Turn-around’ God).

The inspiring and uplifting sermons declare among other things that through faith we are in the hands of a “turn-around” God—one whose power and love knows no bounds, and who, in spite of the hardships we might suffer now, can turn around our destiny in a moment, as he did with Joseph, whose life was amazingly “turned around” from slave and prisoner to a leader second only to Pharaoh. The sermons will certainly be a source of inspiration and encouragement to the Christian soldier on the battlefield of life.

With Dr Peprah-Gyamfi

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Dr. Robert Peprah-Gyamfi, P.O.BOX 8505, Loughborough, Leicestershire, LE11 9BZ.
Tel:+44 (0)800 612 2191 Fax: +44 (0) 1509 213 601