The year was 1987. Outside the newly built eight-suite property, neem trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling against the walls that had yet to hear the sound of footsteps, laughter, or midnight check-ins. Inside, two figures stood alone – Mr. Aanani and Yawa-Attah, co-founders of Hospitality Associates. They had just signed their first full management contract with AGL, a Ghanaian mining titan headquartered in Obuasi, renowned for its rich gold deposits. Government-backed and London-listed, AGL later became the first African company to be listed on the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE).
No longer limiting themselves to consultancy services offering short-term insights, Hospitality Associates had now added operations to their portfolio—becoming full-fledged managers of hospitality properties. The ink on the agreement was fresh, but the weight of its clauses had already settled into their bones.
There were no staff yet. No guest ledgers. No linen carts or kitchen clatter. Just two directors, a set of keys, and a covenant to leave no stone unturned.
The contract, which they referred to as “The Covenant,” granted them exclusive rights to:
- Recruit and discharge all personnel
- Supervise and direct all operations
- Establish systems, procedures, and controls
- Determine service cost structures
- Train staff to meet agreed standards
They were to maintain books according to the Uniform System of Accounts for Hotels and manage funds through an Operating Account approved by both parties. A monthly management fee and reimbursables, including operational expenses, were guaranteed. Additionally, they were promised a 7% incentive fee, pending certain profit targets being met.
What mattered to Mr. Aanani now was the foundation.
Each morning, he walked the corridors with a clipboard and quiet resolve. He noted where signage should go, how the light fell in Suite 5, and which locks needed reinforcement. He was architect, auditor, and steward.
Yawa-Attah, meanwhile, sat cross-legged in the unfurnished lounge, drafting operational manuals by hand: housekeeping procedures, security protocols, food and beverage outlines, maintenance checklists, employee conduct guides.
They debated wording. Imagined crises. Rehearsed responses. Every page was a prayer for excellence.
In the evenings, they met in Suite 8—still bare, still echoing. They reviewed the day’s progress, revised manuals, and sometimes just sat in silence, listening to the building breathe.
They didn’t know if the contract would be extended after three years. They didn’t know if the incentive fee would ever be paid. But they knew this: they were building something sacred. Not just a hotel, but a standard. Not just a business, but a blueprint.
They had agreed on job descriptions for 15 positions, with some roles being dual. Mr. Aanani crafted a vacancy advert, carefully selecting words to reflect their standards. The advert appeared in the Daily Graphic and Ghanaian Times. Prospective candidates were instructed to submit their application letters at the Riviera Beach Hotel, where Hospitality Associates had its head office.
The morning the advert appeared, Mr. Aanani and Yawa-Attah rode together to the office, expecting a modest response. What they saw instead stopped them in their tracks.
A flood of hopeful applicants had gathered around the Riviera Beach Hotel in response to the advert. The crowd spilled past the entrance, murmuring with anticipation. Some had arrived before dawn, they were told. Others were still trickling in, asking for directions, rehearsing their introductions.
At the time, the most convenient and reliable method of recruitment was for individuals to physically drop off their applications. But the sheer volume of responses nearly caused Mr. Aanani and Yawa-Attah to panic—especially since the operators of the Riviera Beach Hotel, and its guests, had not been informed in advance.
Mr. Aanani stepped out of the car and gently directed applicants toward the almond tree courtyard. “Please, let’s form a line here. We’ll attend to everyone.”
Yawa-Attah slipped inside to speak with the front desk manager. She offered a sincere apology, explained the overwhelming response, and assured them it would be handled with care.
Within minutes, she had borrowed a table, laid out a clean cloth, and set up a temporary reception area under the tree. A handwritten sign read:
Hospitality Associates Recruitment Desk – Welcome
They asked one of the Riviera staff to help manage the flow.
Applicants were asked to label their envelopes according to three categories:
– Supervisors
– Front of House Personnel
– Back of House Personnel
Each envelope was required to include a telephone contact. This simple instruction made sorting efficient.
Later that afternoon, Mr. Aanani and Yawa-Attah met with the Riviera Beach Hotel’s General Manager. They apologized again—not out of obligation, but out of respect. They explained the vision behind the recruitment, the standards they were building, and the legacy they hoped to leave.
The General Manager, moved by their sincerity and impressed by their swift response, offered the use of a conference room for interviews over the next three days. “You handled this like true hoteliers,” he said. “Not just with systems, but with soul.”
Within two days, the two co-directors of Hospitality Associates reviewed submissions, selected promising candidates, and scheduled interviews. Notifications were sent out promptly.
Notifications were sent out promptly, and the courtyard quieted once more—its rustling almond leaves now bearing witness to a process handled with grace.
Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction inspired by the operational experiences and sectoral engagements of Hospitality Associates and its collaborators. While the narrative draws upon real industry contexts, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events is purely coincidental. Characters, locations, and scenarios have been fictionalized or amalgamated to serve educational and storytelling purposes. The intent is not to critique individuals or institutions, but to distill operational insight through dramatic narrative.