We all know the difference between right and wrong. It is as clear as the difference between day and night - between black and white. But when it comes to DOING the right thing … well things aren't always so black and white.

Sometimes, the single step from knowing the right thing to doing the right thing can be the longest, hardest step of all. So many factors combat against our ability to do what we know to be the right thing. Society's expectation, personal gain, fear of loss, fear for safety, all these can present an extremely strong opposition to a person's desire to do the right thing.

In the year 1879, the Ashantis were a proud Akan race - much as they are today. The entire Gold Coast had fallen under British control - except for the Ashanti Kingdom, which was where all the gold was. For almost a century, the British colonialists had tried everything to conquer the Ashantis, but not even their superior firepower and advanced weaponry had been sufficient to overrun the stubborn, proud, brave Ashantis.

One day, the Gold Coast Colonial Governor, Frederick Hodgson, managed to round up all the male leaders of the Ashanti royal families, including the then Asantehene, Prempeh I, as well as the Ejisuhene and many other paramount chiefs. They were treated as rebel leaders, terrorists, war criminals, but fully aware of the uncontrollable uprising that would be caused if these kings were executed, the colonial governor decided to exile them to the Seychelles instead. Soon after the exile, the clever Governor called a meeting with the remaining Ashanti leaders and struck a deal with them: Give us the stool, and we will release your kings to you.

The leaders brought the proposal back for discussion at council level. This was where things started to get hairy.

It quickly became clear that on this occasion, defying them was not going to be as easy as it had been for about a century prior? The elders still knew right from wrong - just as they had known for over a century. They knew how much their forefathers had fought and sacrificed to keep the Brits out for a hundred years. They knew how their people were dying for some motivation just to keep their battle spirits up. But how could they continue to defy the Brits now that their leaders had been exiled?

I mean just imagine Ghana at war. The enemy has captured our President and they say if we want him back, we should bring our flag. What would we do? First of all, our leader is gone. The one who will lead us to fight is not there. And the only way to get him back is by doing the wrong thing and surrendering the symbol of our freedom. Under such pressure, who can blame us for doing the wrong thing even though we know right from wrong?

It's the same pressure we feel today, when we violate the traffic regulations and the Police seize our licence, or when university admissions are almost over, and we haven't made the grade to qualify, or when we need that permit from the ministries, and we haven't met the legal requirements. It is pressure that causes us to consider other options instead of the right one.

The Ashanti leaders in 1900 felt this pressure, and, in spite of their history of pride, and defiance, were seriously considering handing over the Golden Stool to the British.

That was when Yaa Asantewaa got up and spoke.

She had been made custodian of the stool when her brother the Ejisuhene was exiled, along with the Otumfuor, and she was watching her male leaders crumble under pressure to do the wrong thing. But she was not going to give in without a fight.

So she rose and spoke those immortal words that ended with, "I must say this if you the men of Ashanti will not go forward, then we will. We the women will. I shall call upon my fellow women. We will fight the white men. We will fight till the last of us falls in the battlefields."

But she didn't just speak, she backed her words with actions, by grabbing a weapon and leading 5000 Ashantis to capture the Kumasi Fort, and hold it under a long siege that further frustrated the efforts of the Brits to occupy Ashanti. As a result, she too was exiled to the Seychelles, where she later died.

My people, this is the first week of Ghana Month on your Super Station, Joy 99.7FM, and every morning this week, I will bring you lessons from the life of a great Ghanaian. This Morning, Yaa Asantewaa is our Great Ghanaian, and her life teaches us several lessons:

First, we all know right from wrong, however, the real heroes are those who don't just know what's right, but will stand up for it no matter what.

Secondly, don't just stand up for the right but DO right as well. Don't just talk about how bad the police are for taking bribes, refuse to pay the next time a cop stops you at a checkpoint and asks you for money. Don't just say it - do it!

Finally, doing the right thing can sometimes cost you. It might make you lonely. It might turn your own people against you. Like it did Yaa Asantewaa. In a society that has become used to doing wrong, choosing right is a sacrifice. But it's a sacrifice we must all make, because this poor, powerless, unconcerned, uneducated, unhealthy, uninspired, corrupt, crisis-filled, debt-riddled, dumsor-darkened, Ghana, CANNOT be the best we are capable of.

My name is Kojo Yankson, and, like you, I am a Ghanaian. That means it is our destiny to be great, no matter the personal cost. After all, if we don't do it, who will?

GOOD MORNING, GHANAFO!