One of the things I really enjoyed in Amsterdam - apart from the usual tourist trappings of the Red Light District and the Van Gogh museum - was a visit to Anne Frank's house.

Well, if we're being strictly accurate, it wasn't her house per se. More like the building where her father worked - the building in which she and her Jewish family hid behind a bookshelf for two years, to avoid Hitler's Nazis.

The building still stands by the canal on the Prinsengracht, and attracts thousands of tourists every day of the week. Today, Ann Frank's diaries are known, read and loved by millions, and the teenage girl's recorded thoughts over that two-year period - which have been portrayed in several plays and a movie - are considered to be the clearest window into the soul of a holocaust victim.

My visit to Anne Frank's house revealed to me that the young Jewish girl and I had a lot in common. Like me, she was born in June - I on the 11th, she on the 12th. Like me, she was her parents' second child. Like me, she disagreed with her family's expectation of who she should grow up to be. Like me, she felt dissatisfied with a future that would not allow her to make a real difference here on Earth. Like me, she wanted to be a journalist. Like me, she loved to write. And like me, she wrote every single day. But, unlike me, Anne Frank, in my opinion, was the most creative writer of all time.

I love writing. It's a truly pleasant experience selecting and arranging words in a way that best describes my thoughts and ideas, employing literary devices to deliberately evoke specific emotions from my readers. I like casting my mind back over the experiences I've had, the books and articles I've read, the movies and shows I've watched, to draw illustrations of my thoughts and beliefs and craft messages that mean something to, and touch something within all who hear them. No question about it: I truly love writing.

But the process is very difficult. Sometimes, it takes ages to figure out what to write. I often sit staring at the ceiling for two to three hours, flipping through a mental index of encounters and experiences, before eventually, my tired brain stumbles upon a viable seed of inspiration to create the embryo of an idea which I can then grow into a coherent, logical and relevant message.

The rooms behind the bookshelf where Anne and her family lived for two years, were known as Achterhuis, which means "Secret Annex" in Dutch. Standing in the cramped space, I got a shockingly uncomfortable impression of how claustrophobic Anne and her family's existence must have been for two whole years, not able to go to school, or to the market, or even just take a stroll down the street for fear of capture by the dreaded Nazis. Anne Frank and her family were forced to stare at four walls day after day for two years, yet, even in this sterile environment, Anne Frank found something to write about every single day.

Those two years behind the bookshelves spanned Anne Frank's life from ages 13 to 15 - those crucial teenage years when she started to discover herself and shape her character as a woman. For two years, Anne Frank wrote in her diary every day. She wrote about her thoughts and fears, she wrote about her experiences, her views about each member of her family, and each new person she encountered while they were in hiding.

Anne Frank, the teenager managed to do the job I find so difficult with a lot less than I have at my disposal. My visit to that historic place, taught me one simple but powerful lesson: nothing is impossible. Whatever you're struggling to achieve in life, someone else has achieved it in harsher conditions than yours. You have no excuse to fail or give up, because people who are no better than you - in fact, people with less advantages than you have succeeded at your hustle. There is no reason why you can't do it, because it's been done before.

I just want to quickly share my favourite sample of the teenage writer's brilliance with you all:

"I finally realized that I must do my schoolwork to keep from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that's what I want! I know I can write ..., but it remains to be seen whether I really have talent….

And if I don't have the talent to write books or newspaper articles, I can always write for myself. But I want to achieve more than that. I can't imagine living like Mother, Mrs. van Daan and all the women who go about their work and are then forgotten. I need to have something besides a husband and children to devote myself to! ...

I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I've never met. I want to go on living even after my death! And that's why I'm so grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself and to express all that's inside me!

When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that's a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?"

My friends, Anne Frank had nothing more than a pen, a diary and a brain, and with these, she created a whole universe from within the four walls of her secret room. Today, you and I have much more than she ever did, so achieving our goals should be a walk in the park.

My name is Kojo Yankson, and I was made in God's image, which means I too, can create something from nothing.

GOOD MORNING, GHANAFO!