HAMILTON, Ont. - In the heart of Hamilton, Kwasi Adu-Poku hears a familiar voice. It's a voice that has been with him since his childhood and continues to guide him today. 

It's the voice always asking himself how he can be better, always thinking about how he can put his best foot forward and help others. Always asking himself the tough questions, always guiding him where he needs to go. 

The former McMaster Marauders men's basketball forward has gone from Toronto's Jane and Finch neighbourhood to McMaster University and is now back working in Toronto. His journey has been one of reflection, discovery, and understanding of looking inward. Kwasi will reflect on that journey, on those past experiences—the highs and the lows. Honouring his past, he calls it, helps him in the present. 

He thinks back to before his basketball journey began. He was playing soccer and running track back in grade seven. He decided to take on long jumping as well. Then, in his first track practice of the season, he lifted off but heard a buckle and a pop. His knee was pretty much in two pieces. 

He had to get reconstructive knee surgery and wore a metal brace for five to six months. He remembers how quickly his life changed.

Kwasi gave up on sports at first. Then, he would hear his older brothers, Kwasi Adu-Basowah and Nana Adu-Poku, encouraging him to return. Nana would take him to the gym to play basketball.  

He learned to be introspective. He constantly asked himself what he wanted out of the world. Adu-Poku realized basketball was his way forward. "Basketball just felt like this symbol of really believing in and working on yourself," he noted. 

From the dark moment of his injury, Kwasi also felt an innate motivation to help people find their way. He heard that voice inside of him. The voice to use his position to help others. He would watch anime with his brothers after the injury. He became closer with them. He was reminded there was a path upward. 

He remembers watching a show called Code Geass. He saw the character Suzaku Kururugi having a mission and goal greater than himself. Suzaku constantly wanted to do what they felt was right. That resonated with Adu-Poku. He's always trying to do the right thing. 

He heard it from that voice as well. It became clearer the more he sat with it, and it became clearer when he faced moments of adversity.

That feeling comes from somewhere deeper. Adu-Poku grew up in a Christian household. He was raised by his mom, Vivian, and his dad, Frank, who both have big hearts. He saw how they supported the community and family members back home in Ghana. Vivian would be up at five in the morning cooking for people for church. They showed love to those around them. 

Adu-Poku took that with him. He would stop and do things for others in a heartbeat. He would give his lunch money so his friends could eat. He felt compelled in his heart to do so. He felt that fire in his chest. 

In grade nine, he created a petition to get a close friend onto the high school basketball team. He wanted to see his friend happy. 

Meanwhile, his basketball career was taking off at William Lyon Mackenzie Collegiate. He saw all his work coming together, which gave him confidence. A coach once told him, "The world is your oyster." He remembered that. 

Growing up, Adu-Poku sought approval from others. In his basketball journey, that started to change. He played his best when he wasn't focused on what his coaches or others said. Instead, it was when he fully stepped into hearing himself. 

He recalls playing in a tournament game during his senior year. The whole bus ride there, he was only concerned about how he was feeling. He scored many points in that game and realized how important it was to step into himself. It took him a long time to do so. 

Adu-Poku listened to that inner voice about what he wanted. He kept listening to himself and what his body told him as his basketball career went on. By the end of his McMaster career, he was as close as he could get to perfecting that. He found his confidence from that. "Fully being present with my mind, body and soul," he said.

Reaching that point was a journey, too. He felt anxiety at the start of his time as a Marauder. He made the team as a walk-on but didn't play much during his first season. He broke out in his second year and became the sixth man. By the time year three came around, Adu-Poku was hoping to make an even bigger breakout. 

Then he went through a mid-season struggle. He felt his position on the team was in jeopardy. He reached a very low mental space. Basketball was life or death for him.

Then, Adu-Poku looked around and saw his teammates fighting for minutes and going through their own situations. He kept encouraging them, telling them to keep their heads up.

Why are you saying these things to them? He asked himself. These guys could take your minutes, and you could lose your spot on the team. 

Then there was that voice again. This feels like the right thing to do, it told him. That voice told him to stay true to himself. So, he did. 

He had his best season yet and stronger relationships with his teammates because that voice told him to have those conversations. He realized that even in his lowest of lows, he could still find ways to help people find their way up. 

Adu-Poku turned his focus inward to be his true self. Before a game, he would sit by himself at his locker, listening to music. He would be reminded of his younger self, how he overcame that track injury, and how he kept working in high school despite limited recruiting prospects. 

"Guard your heart," his parents would say. They knew that giving his heart and being nice came naturally to him and that he should set boundaries. 

By honouring his past self, Adu-Poku found he could set those boundaries. That also made it easier to respect his future self. 

He'll remember those moments in the past when he felt hopeless, like he was in a tunnel with no end. He remembers the feeling of pessimism but also optimism, which inspires him in the present. 

Adu-Poku remembers going to therapy midway through his third season. He went from playing a lot to not playing much at all, which messed with his confidence. He felt the stress and its impact on his self-esteem. 

Once he started going to therapy, he found it transformative. This is about you getting better as a person, he told himself. 

The time spent taking an hour-long bus ride each week paid off. It gave Adu-Poku the foundation to help him navigate his life, which put him in a better place to give more to people around him and provided the foundation to take care of himself. 

By talking and journaling, Adu-Poku could unpack issues he felt or explain why things sometimes rubbed him the wrong way. He understood how he felt after the track injury and why he felt that way. This validated those feelings and made him more prepared to have conversations and understand what he was doing. 

His therapist once told him a quote from the movie Cool Runnings: "If you're not enough without it, you'll never be enough with it."

That stuck with Adu-Poku, so he framed it in his room. Sometimes, we think we're happier when we reach a certain destination, he thought. But the truth is, if we don't address that area of unfulfillment in the journey, we may get to that destination and realize there's still a lot of work to do.

So, Adu-Poku kept asking himself: What am I missing? What do I need to continue to unpack within myself? Here was another transformative moment. 

"It helped me really separate performance, outcomes, and accolades from chasing that self-esteem that I was constantly wanting in my life," he said. 

Adu-Poku thought about the conditional approval he was seeking so heavily. He realized he didn't want that anymore. He wasn't relying on that anymore. 

McMaster student-athlete lead Claire Arseneault encouraged him to apply for the Wilson Leadership scholarship. So Adu-Poku focused on putting his best foot forward, not worrying about the result. He brought his genuine best self to the application process, which helped him win the scholarship. That led to him applying for all kinds of awards and scholarships afterwards. 

He remembers entering McMaster head coach Patrick Tatham's office at the start of his fourth season. Adu-Poku used to be terrified to speak to coaches, so anxious about his playing time. 

He heard Tatham tell him how he may not play the most because younger players are getting opportunities. That would have broken Adu-Poku a year or two ago. This time, he didn't care. He wasn't fazed. 

Adu-Poku was confident in himself. He knew how hard he would work and the value he would bring. "It's a sign of how far I've come," he said.

From that conversation onwards, Adu-Poku wasn't stressed about the outcomes of his career. He honoured his past – setting boundaries not to let decisions he couldn't control impact his future self.

In his final season, Adu-Poku started every game, posting career highs and doing so with confidence. He finished eighth in rebounding in program history. 

He knew his time as a student-athlete was limited. That anxiety and pressure he used to feel went away. In came gratitude for his situation and experience. 

"Basketball wasn't a do-or-die thing. It wasn't my life anymore," he said. "It was easier to play from a place of genuine interest and not from that do-or-die place of desperation."

As Adu-Poku focused more on his life outside the court, he gained the foundation to be his best self on the court. 

When Adu-Poku's fifth season was cancelled, he was already thinking about life beyond basketball. He had dove into more extracurriculars. He was an executive on the Varsity Leadership Committee. He was a welcome week rep who tried his best to make incoming students feel welcome even as he was exhausted from basketball boot camp. 

After graduating from McMaster with a Kinesiology degree, he was considering graduate school because he saw how much he could impact the world beyond the sport. 

How can I be a better teammate? He kept asking himself. How can I make more people feel heard? He found he could use his platform to support other people finding their way. 

He met Vince Luciani of Legacy Coaching, who encouraged him to pursue entrepreneurship. Adu-Poku used this motivation to start the Reach Series, where he shared his experiences.

Adu-Poku heard that voice in his heart telling him to not just think about his own experiences but create that space for others.

He brought the work ethic he had developed in basketball. He would be up at four in the morning working on the website, creating endless pages of content and reaching out to hundreds of people to create workshops and modules. Sharing his message, mission, and values came naturally to him.  

Adu-Poku would share his story about his track injury. He found himself honouring his past once again. 

Now, when he looks at his life, he sees the patterns indicating he's been on the right course the whole time. He'll look around his room and see a picture of him smiling while holding his McMaster diploma—symbolic of knowing how he didn't always smile along the journey. He'll see his framed McMaster basketball jersey. He'll see all those anime posters on his wall. 

He continues to be inspired by anime. He's inspired by characters who find ways to believe in themselves, regardless of odds. He's inspired by characters who want to be better than they were the day before, who want to stay true to themselves, and who reflect on their gifts. Adu-Poku found his gift was how driven he was—through all the highs and lows. 

There's a poster of a collage of shows—reminding him of those memories of watching them with his brothers—as well as a picture of each of his brothers. There's a Dragon Ball Z poster of Goku on different levels of Super Saiyan. He remembers joking with his roommates in his first year about wanting to reach the final Super Saiyan. His friends wrote notes of encouragement and messages of empowerment. 

"Even if we're not brothers, we'll always be connected for life." 

"You're always one phone call away."

"Keep being yourself and keep eating cookies." 

After graduating with a master's degree in Public Policy and Administration from Toronto Metropolitan University, Adu-Poku now works as a policy advisor for Ontario Red Tape Reduction. He makes people's lives easier in how they interact with public service and the government. "Just trying to make life better for people across the province," he calls it. 

His work with the Reach series continues. That career path came as he asked himself questions: Where is my skill set? Where did my interests lie? He found a path in business, public policy, and administration. Now, he's back in Toronto, and he's giving back to his community as well. He keeps asking those questions. 

How can I find ways to support the Jane and Finch community? After all, it's where he grew up, where he found basketball, and where he gained value from his upbringing. 

Having those hard conversations with himself gave him the path forward. Asking those tough questions from an early age served as a guiding force for living an authentic life. Adu-Poku understood the fire inside him and how to make room for that while also navigating the working world. 

In the Jane and Finch community, he's working with the Black Community Health Centre to provide wellness programming while doing public speaking and workshops with Toronto Community Housing. He's worked with Jane and Finch Community Centre programs. As Adu-Poku does so, he's showing people what's possible. He's serving as an example of what can come from that community.

Nowadays, he's focused on enjoying the little moments in life. Adu-Poku watched a show called YuYu Hakusho. He remembers lyrics from one of the final songs: Life is a fleeting dream. You have to make the most of it. 

Adu-Poku carries those words with him every day. He cherishes the fleeting moments when he visits his niece, spends time with family, or plays Monopoly with friends, and he tries to enjoy them to the fullest. 

He knows he's on a journey of understanding. There are so many things I may never truly understand, he realizes. Adu-Poku used to think he understood himself fully. Now, he knows he may only know 5 percent. However, he keeps learning more and more. 

"I've crossed many tall mountains in my life," he said. "As I've gained more perspective, I've just realized that life is a journey of hundreds and thousands of mountains."  

As he does so, that voice inside him remains. It tells him to cherish what's before him while honouring his past. It tells him to set boundaries for himself – which he's done through therapy and preserving his energy. 

That voice speaks to Adu-Poku in different ways daily as he continues his path of understanding. It tells him to keep putting his best foot forward.