When Shakespeare was alive, he spent most of his life in a town called Stratford-upon-Avon. Today, the place is a shrine to tourists and people who wish to visit and feel close to the life of the great bard. One of the abiding memories of my childhood was formed in that same town. I must have been about ten years old when my parents took my little sister and I on a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon. One of the many tourist attractions we saw there was the Stratford Butterfly farm. This was a huge, sprawling facility that had more different species of butterflies, insects and arachnids than any other place in the world.

In addition to the most colourful and diverse display of winged beauties I had ever seen, there were different rooms for different insects and bugs, as well as a huge room of creepy-crawlies, including the world's biggest spider (not a sight I would recommend for most ladies). Our guide took us on the Butterfly Tour, ushering us from room to room, each chamber displaying a stage in the butterfly's life cycle. It was in one of these rooms that I had the life-changing experience I'm about to share with you.

The Cocoon Room is a large, relatively dark chamber, where millions and millions of cocooned caterpillars go through the final process of transformation to become beautiful butterflies. I was excited about witnessing this transformation for myself. As we walked around the room, I would occasionally hear someone say, "Here comes another one", but by the time I'd run across to see, the butterfly would already be out. I was getting pretty frustrated.

Then I saw it. A cocoon hanging from a low branch on a potted plant, suddenly started to wriggle. I got on my knees to get a closer look. For ages, I quietly observed the cocoon pulse and wriggle, as the little butterfly tried to burst free. "Come on, you can do it", I encouraged the little life form. But try as it might, the poor thing couldn't seem to fight its way out of bondage. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. With delicate ten-year-old fingers, I carefully split open the cocoon, expecting a winged beauty to fly out. Instead, a brown object slid out of the split cocoon and fell to the ground.

It was a butterfly alright, but its wings were shrivelled up and stuck to its body in an unhealthy-looking way. I kept willing it to spread its mutilated wings and fly, but it obviously couldn't. It hobbled around for a few minutes, and then, to my dismay, it curled up ad died. I started to cry.

"You shouldn't have interfered with the struggle", a soft, kind voice said from behind me. I turned to see the tour guide on his knees behind me.

I wiped the tears from my face and sobbed, "I was only trying to help"

The kind man patted me on the shoulder ad said, "When the butterfly struggles to get out of the cocoon, that struggle forces certain fluids to flow into its wings, making them grow bigger and stronger. When the wings become big and strong enough to burst through the walls of the cocoon, that is when the butterfly is ready for the world. You were trying to help, but you robbed the butterfly of its struggle, and you let it out into the world when it was not ready".

This was a powerful lesson for my ten year-old self to learn, but it was only yesterday, sitting on a rooftop somewhere in Accra, that the real significance of my butterfly murder became clear to me. You see, we often wonder why God lets bad things happen to good people. It confuses us sometimes, when in spite of our good deeds and acts of kindness, in spite of our regular payment of tithes and giving of alms, life still remains a struggle.

Well, may I suggest that life seems a struggle because you are still in your cocoon. God wants your wings to grow big and strong before He lets you out into a world of blessings. If He lets you out too early, you will plummet to the ground, instead of flying to the top. So He is keeping you there for now, because you need more fluid in your wings. So you must do your part, and struggle. Fight. Hustle. Strive to break free from your cocoon. The more you hustle, the stronger your wings become, and I promise you will break free at the exact moment you become strong enough to fly, and not a minute earlier.

My name is Kojo Yankson, and my struggle makes me stronger.

GOOD MORNING, GHANAFO!