They arrive as boys, often unsure of their own voices. They leave with something harder to acquire than confidence: restraint.

Presidents have walked out of its gates. Governors of the Bank of Ghana. Judges, diplomats, economists, scientists, kings. Yet Prempeh College has never measured itself by the titles its students later acquire. Its true work happens much earlier, quietly, before the world begins to watch.

On certain mornings in Kumasi, mist settles over a hilltop campus dressed in green shirt with a yellow crest. The bell rings. Shoes strike the ground in rhythm. And somewhere between the silence of assembly and the discipline of the classroom, power is being taught how not to shout.

Prempeh College is, a high school. In Ghana’s imagination, it is something closer to legend. Mention its name in a crowded room and you will hear the pause before the response. Respect precedes explanation. Like Harvard or Princeton in the American psyche, Prempeh has become shorthand for elite formation. But unlike those institutions, its prestige is not loud. It does not advertise itself. It expects recognition.

The school was founded in 1949, at the edge of Ghana’s independence, through the vision of the Asantehene, Otumfuo Sir Osei Agyeman Prempeh II. It was named after King Prempeh I, whose exile symbolized resistance, dignity and endurance. The message was unmistakable: the future ruling class would be educated, disciplined and rooted. Power would no longer be improvised. It would be prepared.

Discipline at Prempeh is not performative. It is architectural. Time matters. Language matters. Bearing matters. Excellence is not celebrated because it is assumed. Failure is not dramatized, but it is not excused. Students are not trained to dominate rooms. They are trained to master themselves.

This is why Amanfoo, the fraternity of old students recognize one another instantly, sometimes without words. Across generations and social class, the bond holds. A Prempeh old boy in a boardroom, a palace, a courtroom or a ministry carries the same invisible signature(SENIOR): composure. Responsibility. A sense that success is not an escape from others, but a debt owed to them.

Their creed is simple and quietly radical: I am because you are. Individual brilliance is meaningless without collective uplift. Authority exists to stabilize, not to intimidate. Leadership is something you earn daily, not something you announce once.

This is what makes Prempeh College the College of Kings. Not because it produces royalty alone, but because it teaches a royal ethic: power without arrogance, ambition without excess, confidence without noise.

In an era of instant fame and credential inflation, Prempeh College remains stubbornly old-fashioned. It believes in time. In formation. In silence. It believes that the most dangerous leaders are those who have never been taught to wait.

And perhaps that is why, more than seventy years on, families from every corner of Ghana still dream of the slaughter house and those Apian way. Not merely for status, but for something rarer: the making of men who understand that true authority does not announce itself.

It simply arrives and holds.

Senior Lord Fiifi Quayle, Pearson House