By Melissa Chea Annan- Remembering PNW
Early Wednesday morning (September 14), around 6:00 am I woke up to check messages from family
and friends back home. It’s something that I usually do daily. This time around, I got the worse news
that had me dumbfounded. I thought it was a dream and so, I laid the phone down.
Still not satisfied, I picked up the phone again and then, more messages surrounding the death of my
former boss, Philip N Wesseh kept flooding in.
I started browsing the pages of INQUIRER staff to verify the information, but I didn’t see anything.
Later, I checked in the INQUIRER’s chat room, and saw a brief message from my former News Editor,
Jackson Seton confirming the death news of PNW. There and then, I knew that this was no longer a
dream but a reality.
Mr. Wesseh was the only boss, that I worked for at the INQUIRER Newspaper in Monrovia.
I started practicing journalism in 1997 with no knowledge about how to write or report the news.
How did I end up becoming a journalist in the first place?
It all started in December 1996, when a church brother, Jacob Grody Dorbor asked me to work for the
INQUIRER Newspaper. Dorbor said, the institution needed a female journalist because the only female
journalist, Massa Washington, who was at the paper, had travelled and there was no other female
journalist at the institution.
Mr. Dorbor persuaded me to join the INQUIRER, but I told him I couldn’t because I had no clue or idea
about journalism.
Dorbor assured me that I was going to be trained by the Institution.
With that assurance, I reluctantly accepted his offer.
Early January in 1997, I visited The INQUIRER Office on 37 Gurley St., in Monrovia. Upon my arrival,
Dorbor introduced me to Mr. Wesseh.
The first question Mr. Wesseh asked me was “Do you know your subject-verb agreement?”.
I answered in the affirmative.
Mr. Wesseh took me to the office of the News Editor, Mr. Bana Sackey.
Mr. Sackey then asked me to do a narrative paragraph about my visit to the INQUIRER, starting from the
time I woke up that morning to the time I arrived at The INQUIRER office.
I sat in his office and did just that.
Later did I know that he was testing my writing skills.
After I submitted the assignment, Mr. Sackey read through it and I heard him whispered to Mr. Wesseh
saying “she knows how to write”.
From that moment, Mr. Wesseh said to me, “you are hired”. I asked Mr. Wesseh “When do I start
work?”
He said, “your job starts now.”
I asked him again, “So, am I a journalist now?”
He laughed so hard, the real “Kru” way and said “you are a CUB Reporter”.
I just needed some clarity , and so I asked ” What is the meaning of CUB Reporter?”
He responded “A Reporter in training “.
He then called James Kpargoi and James Momoh to take their trouble (he was referring to me as their
‘trouble’), and said “She is assigned to two of you. Take her along wherever you go”.
That was how my journey into journalism began.
I learned a lot from my co-workers as I accompanied them on their various Beats. Mr. Wesseh registered
me at the Liberian Institute of Journalism (LIJ). He sent me to every media training program that was
available for young Reporters. He didn’t stop until I was fully equipped to work independently.
Two months later, Mr. Wesseh challenged me to take on my own assignments. The very first story that
carried my By-line was a captioned story on Decoration Day.
Seeing my By-line under that captioned story was the best thing that ever happened to me. What I did
with that paper is another version of my first experience that I am going to share someday.
One good lesson I learned from Mr. Wesseh was that, whenever I got back to the office with a story, he
would always ask me to explain exactly what happened on a beat that I covered. Following my
explanation, he would instruct me to produce three leads.
Based on the three leads, he would suggest that I begin the story with the best lead.
Mr. Wesseh made journalism so easy for me and even challenged me by giving me heavier beats,
including the Legislative, Executive and Judiciary branches of government, Ministry of National Defense
and the United Nations Mission in Liberia (UNMIL), among several others.
Based on these challenges, my passion for the profession increased.
I am so glad that I worked under the guidance of PNW. As the only female Reporter at The INQUIRER at
that time, I didn’t encounter any difficulty. All of my male co-workers were so gentle and willing to assist
me in the profession. I enjoyed working with them as a team.
Mr. Wesseh was funny and it was difficult for a visitor to distinguish Mr. Wesseh, ‘our boss,’ from the
rest of the employees. He was so “down-to-earth”. He never ate alone. He didn’t care to know where
the food came from. He would eat any employee’s food. His common saying was “if anybody put witch
in this food, all of us will die together”.
I was specialized in taking my “cold rice to work every morning.” Once Mr. Wesseh spotted that black
plastic bag, he would jerk it from my hand and start eating first. Some days he would remind me to bring
more “cold rice” the next day.
Sometimes, when I made him mad, he would yell my name and say “Melissa, look you married, dont
make me vex. What happened to the people story? Please go and do it before I get vex”.
He was just so sweet and easy to deal with. He would get mad for five minutes and blast at everyone.
Right after that he would turn the blasting into fun.
The INQUIRER became a family institution. He treated everyone fairly. He ate his share of everybody’s
“Carto”, be it small or large. He encouraged everyone to dress properly, with the expectation of going
to cover the Executive Mansion. He was a devoted Christian and made sure that his staff attended
services, especially during the Institution’s anniversary every year. He made us to wear different kinds of
uniforms every year during INQUIRER’s Anniversary. Mr. Wesseh encouraged his staff to go to school
and acquire better education for themselves. He identified with all of his employees, during good and
bad times. He even made me to sing those “normal days’ Kru songs at some of the functions. He enjoyed
listening to his indigenous songs.
At times, when I was receiving calls, I would notice Mr. Wesseh coming so close to me. I still didn’t know
what he was driving at until one day when he said “Chey! Melissa. All the way I am close to you, I am still
not hearing one thing you are saying on the phone. You really know how to talk secret.” I would just
laugh and move on to the other side.
One thing many people didn’t know is the fact that Mr. Wesseh was not just my boss, he was also my
cousin, but we chose not to bring family relationship into the work business. Both of us didn’t know that
we were related until one day when my mom visited the office and started explaining family history. We
kept our work professional and that was awesome. Once in a while he would say, cousin and we just
laughed about it.
I started as a CUB Reporter and ended as an Editor at The INQUIRER Newspaper. I enjoyed every bit of
my time at that institution. I wouldn’t have excelled, had it not been for the great “Gina”, who
motivated me. When I was shying away from contesting the PUL elections as Assistant Secretary General
and later Vice President in 2008 and 2010, Mr. Wesseh pushed me to contest. For this I am grateful that
I was able to serve our noble Union and its members.
I am so proud of the level of work that has been carried out by my co-worker, Christiana Winnie Saywah
Jimmy. She has done extremely well as acting Managing Editor, and I can not thank her enough for
keeping the paper on the newsstand, while Mr. Wesseh was away.
My deepest condolences to the staff of The INQUIRER and the family of Mr. Wesseh.
Those precious moments and memories of Mr. Wesseh will always bring a smile.
If only I could have him back for just a little while, then we could sit and talk again like we used to.
I am what I am today because of PNW. There is no way someone would mention the name Melissa Chea
Annan, without making reference to The INQUIRER and Philip N. Wesseh. We were connected. I cannot
explain my success story, without mentioning my foundation (The INQUIRER Newspaper).
PNW meant so very much to me and will always do too.
The fact that he is no longer around will cause me pain, but PNW will forever be in my heart.
With grief and sorrow, I say Rest in Peace my Hero. After working with PNW for over 17 years, I can
proudly say that in deed, he was the greatest Liberian Journalist I have ever known.
