From rejection to Harvard: The story of Manasseh Azure Awuni and the people who told him journalism was a hobby

In 2005, a young man who had just completed senior high school sat down to fill out his university application forms. He had dreamed of becoming a banker and had applied to the University of Cape Coast (UCC) to study Bachelor of Commerce—then considered one of the most prestigious business programmes in the country. When that bid failed, someone suggested he try journalism instead.

What followed was a wave of discouragement from two professionals who believed they knew what was best for his future.

The first piece of advice came from a man whose name he can only recall as “Asomaning or so,” an employee at the Private Enterprises Foundation. The two had met at the GES Guest House, where the young man worked as a caretaker after senior high school—a job that allowed him to save money to pay his admission and initial fees. When the official saw his academic credentials, he was adamant.

“Why journalism?” he asked. “You have a very promising future. Journalism is like a hobby. You should study a good programme.”

Disappointed but still determined, the applicant took his forms to Adenta Clinic for the mandatory medical endorsement. He was lodging with people at Adenta Housing Down and hoped the doctor there would complete the formalities. Instead, he encountered a second rejection.

The medical officer refused to endorse the forms for two reasons. First, he argued that he did not know the young man personally and could not vouch for him. Second, he scrutinised the grades from Krachi Senior High School—where the young man had completed his secondary education—and concluded that such academic brilliance should not be “wasted” in the newsroom.

“You are a brilliant boy,” the doctor reportedly told him. “Journalism is not for you.”

A Childhood of Scarcity and Sacrifice

Long before those discouraging words, Manasseh Azure Awuni’s journey had already been marked by obstacles that would have broken a lesser spirit. Born in Bongo in the Upper East Region in 1985, he moved to Kete-Krachi in the Volta Region at age six, where his father worked as a night watchman at the Krachi Government Hospital. His father was illiterate—he could not read or write—but he understood the value of education.

In 2001, Manasseh completed junior high school with the best result in the entire Krachi District. He dreamed of attending Tamale Senior High School (TAMASCO), one of Ghana’s prestigious northern schools. He had even qualified for the Northern Scholarship, which would have covered his feeding and boarding costs. But the cost of transportation—just a couple of cedis—was beyond his family’s means.

“If you’re here and things get difficult, you can still eat leftover TZ and go to study,” his father, a night watchman at the Krachi District Hospital, had told him. Manasseh wept and selected a secondary school in Krachi instead.

At Krachi Senior High School, he joined the drama club and started writing plays because there was no one to write for them. His creative writing abilities caught the attention of the PRO of the district GES office, Mr Fredoline Empeh, who suggested he should study journalism instead of becoming an accountant.

After senior high school, pursuing a university degree seemed out of the question. His elder brother, who had obtained a distinction, could only go to the polytechnic. The wise men and women in Kete-Krachi advised his father to send him and his twin sister to teacher training college instead, arguing that university education was meant for children of the rich.

Against All Odds

Fortunately, Manasseh worked after senior high school and saved some money to pay his admission and initial fees until help arrived when his elder brother got a job. He became one of only 24 degree students admitted to the Ghana Institute of Journalism (GIJ) for the Journalism option in 2006.

Today, that same young man is one of Ghana’s most celebrated investigative journalists. He is the founding Editor-in-Chief of The Fourth Estate, a non-profit public-interest journalism project of the Media Foundation for West Africa. He previously worked with the Multimedia Group Limited, where he founded and led the organisation’s investigative journalism desk.

His reporting has exposed government corruption that led to the jailing of three people, criminal charges against four others, the cancellation of fraudulent contracts worth hundreds of millions of US dollars, and the dismissal of dozens of corrupt officials. His work led to the passage of a law by parliament to regulate the operations of Ghana’s youth employment programme after he uncovered systemic corruption in its implementation. His reporting also resulted in the abolishment of a policy that sent pregnant nursing and midwifery students home until after delivery.

His journalism awards include the 2012 Ghana Journalist of the Year, the 2018 and 2020 West Africa Journalist of the Year, the 2021 Integrity Personality of the Year, and the 2021 Millennium Excellence Award for Journalism and Media Personality. He is the author of four books, including “Investigative Journalism in Africa: A Practical Manual”.

In 2023, he was selected for the prestigious Nieman Journalism Fellowship at Harvard University—only the fourth Ghanaian to receive this honour. At Harvard, he is researching sustainable funding and managerial models for non-profit newsrooms in Africa, where press freedom is increasingly threatened. He also has the freedom to audit courses at Harvard Business School, Kennedy School of Government, Harvard Law School, or any course of his choice at Harvard and MIT.

No Regrets

“I look back, and I thank God that I did not get admission to UCC,” he said in a recent interview. “No regrets because the school did not give me admission—now studies my journalism”.

His story challenges the persistent Ghanaian narrative that certain university courses are inherently superior to others. While Commerce, Medicine, and Engineering are often lauded as the gold standards of academia, Awuni points to a global reality that many local leaders refuse to acknowledge.

“Some of the leading tech and AI firms in the world employ sociologists and psychologists to do important work,” he noted. “But here, we think some courses don’t matter. It is when you attend university in America and Europe that you will see that people are studying and researching truly weird and niche things—and they are valued for it.”

The irony, he argues, is palpable. Ghanaian policymakers and development experts frequently hire foreign consultants—often from the very disciplines they disparage—to help shape national strategy. Yet, local students who pursue Development Studies are told they are heading “nowhere.” Sociologists, psychologists, and anthropologists are often viewed as second-class academics, even as the global economy increasingly demands their expertise in areas ranging from artificial intelligence ethics to urban planning and behavioural economics.

“The leaders who should be building societies and economies that tap into and benefit from diverse knowledge are the very ones passing disparaging remarks about these courses,” he lamented.

A Cautionary Tale

Awuni’s journey from the son of an illiterate night watchman to a Harvard Fellow is a testament to the unpredictability of success and the danger of narrow-mindedness in educational guidance. In 2005 and 2006, two professionals saw a brilliant student and tried to steer him away from his passion. Today, that student stands as proof that a “hobby” can become a world-class career, and that a field dismissed as “unserious” can offer perspectives that no amount of commerce or medicine can provide.

“For someone who could not go to a secondary school with a scholarship because of transportation, getting two fully-funded admissions to two universities in the US this year is, perhaps, the delayed miracle I expected years ago,” he reflected.

As Ghana and the broader continent push toward an innovation-driven future, Awuni’s experience raises a critical question: How many brilliant minds have been steered away from their potential because society has defined “success” too narrowly?

For his part, the journalist has no regrets. “I wouldn’t trade the journalism I studied for any of the ‘prestigious’ programmes at the university,” he said. “I couldn’t have studied a better programme.”