Cudjoe, Dzagbe / Tales my Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me Eloquent Books / E-book / 7x10 / 52 pages ISBN: 978-1-60860-008-3 SKU: 1-60860-008-4

Here is a selection of authentic stories from African myth and legend, retold by the author with interesting and unique twists. Although the origins are not necessarily known, the tales all center on the Ghanaian people, their culture, and beliefs. A very nice selection, creatively and warmly told. About The Author: Born in Chesham, England, the author has an MA in Ethnology from the University of Munich, Germany. She has worked at the Ghana National Museum & University of Ibadan, Nigeria. Research Field West African Traditional Religion. She is a member of the World Federation of Healing and works with children with severe physical and / or learning disabilities, using dance and movement therapy to help with rehabilitation.

Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Dzagbe Cudjoe

E
New York, New York

Eloquent Books

Copyright 2008 2009 All rights reserved Dzagbe Cudjoe No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, from the publisher. Eloquent Books Publishing Strategic Books An imprint of AEG Publishing Group An imprint of AEG Publishing Group 845 Third Avenue, 6th Floor - 6016 845 Third Avenue, 6th Floor - 6016 New York, NY 10022 New York, NY 10022 www.eloquentbooks.com www.StrategicBookPublishing.com 978-1-60860-008-3 1-60860-008-4 ISBN: 978-1-934925-87-4, 1-934925-87-X Printed in the United States of America Book Design by Stacie Tingen

Dedication
To my father Dr. Seth Dzifanu Cudjoe, Physician, Writer, Poet, Artist and Musician. A true Patriot of Ghana 1910-1984

Table of Contents
Introduction ....................................................................................................................1 The Wicked Curse Of Nibobobo.....................................................................................3 Akuas Foolish Wish ......................................................................................................11 Fingers Of Fire ..............................................................................................................17 Journey To The Chest Of Gold......................................................................................33

Dzagbe Cudjoe

Introduction
Can you begin to imagine a time when there was no television or even radio? What would you have done to entertain yourself? In Africa, before there were any of these things, people would gather together to listen to the Story Teller. The tales they told were well-known and passed on from one generation to another. Tales my Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me are stories which I have made up especially for all of you. You are the very first people to read these stories. I hope that you enjoy them.

Dzagbe Cudjoe

The Wicked Curse Of Nibobobo

The story I am going to tell you took place a long, long, long time agoso long ago that no one remembers exactly when. It all happened in a tiny village hidden away in a country somewhere in West Africa. The houses in the village were rectangular in shape and made out of the surrounding red earth. They had plain thatch roofs and were built around a central courtyard. Whole families of grandmothers, grandfathers, fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins all lived in huts close to one another. The courtyard was an important meeting place where people gathered to talk. The women cooked and the children played. Life was good for the villagers. They had water, food, work, leisure and their dances. These were all very necessary ingredients for a happy, healthy and peaceful life. But there were always people who were jealous and did not want others to be happy and carefree. Now this story really began one night during the dry season. At that time of year there was less farm work to do. So, as people were not so busy, they held special dances. It was the custom for young men to ask the parents of the girl they loved for permission to marry him. On this particular occasion, the sky was like velvet, the moon was smiling, and the stars twinkled and chuckled with delight as they watched the celebrations in the village below. Although the dancers did not know it, they were also being watched with appreciation by the trees and plants around them. The drums, the gongs, and the rattles were playing and the villagers clapped their hands in accompaniment to the rhythms. They all gave themselves over to the pleasures of the dance. The young men moved their feet so that they touched the ground faster and faster. Their bodies, faces, and colorful costumes were all part of the dance. At the height of the dance, a young man of noble-bearing and character slipped away from the dancing ground. His name was Fetu. He was deeply in love with a young girl called Niniana. She possessed great beauty of spirit. She returned Fetus love and they, would have made a very happy couple. Fetu was on his way to ask Ninianas father for his daughters hand in marriage. Now begins the sad part of the story. Back then, only the very oldest people in the village knew that a long time ago, Fetus father had asked to marry Nibobobo, Ninianas mother. She had rejected him despite pressure from her parents. Nibobobo, even then, was a very wicked woman and she was frightened that Fetus father, who was a good man, would learn her true nature. Fetu did not know any of this when he told his father of his plans regarding Niniana. To his great astonishment, his father forbade him to ask permission of Ninianas family. Poor Fetu did not know that his father was behaving in this way to take his revenge on Nibobobo for the insult of long ago. Fetu though was a young man with a mind of his own. This was why he had slipped away from the dance and was walking in the direction of the house where Niniana lived. He was warmly welcomed by Ninianas family and they were happy that Niniana wanted
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Dzagbe Cudjoe

to marry such an upstanding young man. Furious at this turn of events, Fetus father threatened to send him into exile away from the family if he persisted with his marriage plans. Fetu knew, that it was impossible to survive in the forest without being a member of a family, and part of a village. So with a heavy heart, he gave up his plans. Nibobobo was aware of the reason why Fetus father had forbidden the marriage to her daughter, Niniana. Although no one dared to openly say so, Nibobobo had a bad reputation. It was correctly assumed that she was a witch. Her rage knew no bounds. She wanted the whole village to suffer for the insult she had received. Her anger made her even more wicked, malicious and evil. Wearing a dirty, old, torn cloth and with her grey hair unbraided, she sneaked off to a special clearing in the forest. She stood there in her red-hot fury and humiliation, her eyes reduced to slits, and her teeth bared. Nibobobo slowly lifted her arms into the air as if she was lifting a heavy weight. Her fingers clenched like claws. Her head fell backwards so that she looked at the sky through bloodshot eyes. Then, she committed the most atrocious act. By the power at my command, she shrieked, I curse the palm trees. Let them all turn brown, shrivel and die! Oh yes, everyone shall know my power, she cackled. She had done a dreadful thing. The palm trees provided food, alcoholic beverages, oil, thatching for houses, brooms, timber, and much more besides. They were probably the most important trees in West Africa. To the villagers horror and amazement, within three hours, all of the palm trees were dead with their dried-out fronds hanging limply from their crowns. The villagers were in deep despair. The situation seemed hopeless. Then Ade, the chief s son, asked his father Can we not travel to the home of the GreatSpirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-OnThis-Earth, and ask the Spirit to bring the palm trees back to life? To be quite truthful none of the elders of the village had thought of this. They were people with experience of life and it just did not seem possible to them. Ades idea spread through the village like wildfire. But who was willing to go on this perilous journey into the unknown? The other villagers were reluctant and all said that they had very important and urgent things to attend to. So Ade announced in a ringing tone of voice, I will go on this journey to the Great Spirit, but I cannot go alone. Who is courageous enough to come with me? At this, Fetu and Niniana both stepped forward, We are the innocent cause of this catastrophe, they both said, and we will go with you. The whole village was very proud of Ade, Fetu, and Niniana and admired their courage. The villagers knew that in the past, people journeyed backwards and forwards with ease to visit the Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-On-This-Earth. Now though, things were different. This was because the way people behaved had not pleased the Great-Spirit. The Spirit had decided that humankind would have to struggle to reach him and to get to know him personally.
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The villagers racked their brains to remember what they had been told about the journey by their forefathers. One very old man, in an aged, trembling voice said, I seem to recall my grandfather telling me that it was necessary to travel deep into the forest and that there are many dangers to be met. But what the dangers are, he did not say. I have heard tell, continued the Queen Mother, that the moon, the stars, and the sun will help all those with a pure heart. The villagers tried but, could not really help Ade, Fetu and Niniana to prepare for the journey which lay ahead. On the chosen day for Ade, Fetu and Niniana to leave on their dangerous mission, the Chief, the villagers, and all the priests came to give their blessing and to ask the blessings of the Great Spirit. The whole village walked in procession to the Sacred Grove. Once there, the priest removed his sandals and the cloth from his left shoulder. To address the Great Spirit or the Ancestors without removing ones shoes or with covered shoulders, was a major mark of disrespect. The priest offered a libation on behalf of the village by pouring drops of water in three different spots on the earth. He poured alcohol in the same way. Then, holding the calabash bowl in both hands, he raised it to above chest-level saying slowly and with reverence, Oh Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-On-This-Earth, we ask you to protect Ade, Fetu, and Niniana on this very dangerous journey into the unknown, which they are undertaking on our behalf. Let them return safely, bringing with them the life-giving energy of the palm trees. The only thing that I know about your journey, said the Chief Priest who was a very, very, old man is that you must overcome four terrifying ordeals before you reach the Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-On-This-Earth! If you do not succeed in these ordeals, you will never be able to return here. The only advice I can give you is to have faith, confidence, and to believe that you can overcome all obstacles. Concentrate your minds on the tasks ahead. Keep ritual silence because it brings with it protection, and enables the unseen world to speak to you more easily. Go now my children, with our gratitude and blessings. Ades father stepped forward and presented him with a small quantity of gold dust carefully wrapped up and placed for safekeeping inside a leopard skin pouch. Ade was given a leopard skin pouch because he was from a chiefly family. The chief handed Fetu a large cudgel, and a protective silver necklace was placed around Ninianas neck by the Queen Mother. The three young people turned and looked at their parents, relatives, friends, and fellow villagers for what they knew may be the last time ever. Tears filled their eyes and all of those present. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana embraced those nearest and dearest to them. Then without a word, they turned and began heading deeper into the forest, walking in single file. First Ade, then Niniana with Fetu close behind her.

Dzagbe Cudjoe

The three of them walked past the village farms where the corn, plantain, and yam plants were all growing tall and strong. Soon they found themselves in a part of the forest where they had never been before. They started to feel unsure and rather frightened. Because they must not break the ritual silence, they could only give each other reassuring glances. Suddenly, all feelings of uncertainty and fear vanished as Ade, Fetu, and Niniana felt a powerful energy flowing through them. They remembered the assurance of the old priest that with faith and confidence, they would succeed in their chosen task. Now they no longer had doubts about their ability to contact the Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-On-This-Earth. Silently and with growing confidence, the young people continued on their way. How long they had been traveling, they did not know. The forest was an intense green except where the palm trees stood brown and lifeless bearing witness to Nibobobos curse. On one occasion, there was a flash of red tail feathers as an African Grey parrot flew by. Rustling under the leaves on the floor of the forest, were snakes and lizards moving out of the way as Ade, Fetu and Niniana passed by. Well camouflaged animals stood stock-still behind the trees as the three continued on their way. Whenever they raised their eyes Ade, Niniana, and Fetu saw orchids and creepers disappearing overhead amongst the tree tops. Suddenly, it was as if the end of the world had come. The earth under Ade, Niniana, and Fetus feet heaved and fell, cracked open and crumbled. Steam came out of vents in the earth and slimy mud started to creep along the ground. A great roar came from the center of the Earth. Ade, Niniana, and Fetu stood still and felt as if fear had turned them to stone. Open-mouthed and wide-eyed with terror, they beheld the most awesome sight. They struggled not to scream or to call out to one another. A gigantic tree of a height and size they had never seen before appeared to be moving menacingly towards them. The trees branches were like evil waving arms trying to clutch at and capture the little group. While Ade, Fetu, and Niniana watched in horror, the tree seemed to be trying to pull its roots, looking like a thousand diseased feet, out of the earth. The tree rocked itself from side to side, then backwards and forwards as if attempting to loosen its roots from the earth. The hypnotic swaying had a rhythm of its own. Like a flash of lightning without a word being spoken, Ade, Fetu and Niniana, knew what they must do. Quickly, they joined hands forming a circle and started to dance to the rhythm of the swaying tree. They whirled round and round in circles as fast as they were able to with their feet sinking into the mud. Then the movements become slower as Ade, Fetu, and Niniana expressed, through the dance, their deep love for the trees and for the whole forest and earth. After a little while, they realized that the threatening feeling had lifted, the great tree had stopped swaying, and that the earth beneath their feet had returned to normal. The entire plant world, which had been seriously offended by Nibobobos curse, had been placated through the beautiful reverent dance. Peace returned to the forest. Niniana picked up a handful of clay earth and rolled it into a ball. Then she tied the ball into her waistcloth. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana continued on their way with the knowledge that the first trial was now behind them. They walked for
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many hours with the sun overhead. Neither food nor water was permitted on this ritual journey. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana were starting to feel tired, but they knew that they must keep moving. They must not stop. Their concentration began to flag and they were completely unprepared for what happened next. The friends had reached a clearing in the forest when their ears were filled with a powerful, moaning sound and their bodies were buffeted by a mighty wind. The cold air tore around in counter-clockwise circles which became smaller and smaller, forming a whirlwind. Instinctively Ade, Fetu, and Niniana ran and put their arms around the nearest tree and held on tightly. The force of the wind threatened to loosen their grip. It roared round and round like an angry spirit shrieking with annoyance. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana called upon the Great -Spirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-On-This-Earth for help; and they received it. They suddenly realized that the whirlwind was very angry about what Nibobobo had done. Once again Ade, Niniana, and Fetu knew without thinking what they must do. Still holding onto the trees, they threw back their heads, opened their mouths wide and began to sing. The song they sang was not in any language that still exists. The words of the song went back to the beginning of time when the Earth itself was created. The music was as if the sea, the rivers, the wind, the earth, the trees, birds, and all the animals were singing through Ade, Fetu, and Niniana. It was hauntingly beautiful and such a song had never been heard before. The whirlwind rotated more and more slowly as if enchanted by the song. For a brief moment, it was completely still and all the colors of the rainbow could be seen sparkling within it. Then it was gone. The second obstacle in the path to the Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-Things-On-Earth had been pacified and overcome by the power of music. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana once more continued their journey. They walked for quite some time with arms linked to reassure each other and to offer each other silent support and comfort. The three could not talk because they would break the ritual silence they had undertaken to keep; but they had already discovered that they could read each others minds and did not need to use words. Each one of them was silently expressing his or her gratitude to the Great Spirit that they had survived two of the ordeals of their journey. They had reached the halfway point. But they knew there were still trials ahead. Ade, Niniana, and Fetu were walking along by the side of a small river. It was pleasant because it was cooler, and the sound of the river flowing along was very musical; birds and other small creatures came to drink at the waters edge. Dragonflies glided lazily by. The three friends had just relaxed sufficiently to begin to enjoy the tranquil scene when there was a mighty rumbling sound behind them. On turning around, they beheld to their horror, a solid sheet of water as high as the tree tops bearing down on them. There was nowhere they could run to, nowhere to take shelter. They would surely drown. Their quest would be at an end! Fetu used the power to transmit his thoughts to urgently signal to Ade and Niniana that they should grab hold of his cudgel which he was holding out to them. Desperately, they did so just before the solid wall of water hit them. They were swept off their feet, sucked under the water, and whirled
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along tumbling over and over at tremendous speed. As they hung onto the cudgel for dear life, Ade, Niniana, and Fetu could not see anything but blackness, and they felt as if their lungs would burst. Just as they were sure that they were going to die, they found themselves swept onto a rock and held there. The cudgel had become wedged into a crevice. To the amazement of the three young friends, the water receded as quickly as it had appeared. They found themselves bruised and breathless lying face down on a rock, but still clinging to the cudgel which had saved their lives. In the distance, they could see the river bankhow to get to it was the problem. Ade and Niniana read Fetus mind. He was suggesting that they all three hold on to the cudgel and float to the bank. None of them could swim so no one considered that a good idea. But how else were they to reach the bank? So after much thought and a prayer to the Great Spirit, they all cautiously and fearfully slid off the rock and into the water, tightly holding on to the cudgel. Using their free arm and their legs, they found that they could propel themselves along. It was hard work. After what seemed like a lifetime, their knees scraped the pebbles on the bed of the river. They were back on dry land! Ade, Niniana, and Fetu struggled wearily ashore and lay down in a patch of sunlight to get their breath back and to dry their clothes off. Niniana unwrapped the ball of clay which she had tied into her cloth. She pushed her thumb deep into the center of the ball, then with her thumb inside the ball and her fingers outside it, she began to form a small pot. Into it, she put some water from the river and two orchids which she found growing nearby. Niniana placed the little bowl with the flowers on the river bank as an offering of thanks to the Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-That-Is-On-This-Earth for her, Fetu, and Ades survival. Ade, Niniana and Fetu had withstood three life-threatening ordeals. Their trust and confidence in themselves and the Divine Protection they were being given had increased greatly. The forest they were walking through became evermore beautiful and peaceful. Niniana looked up and beheld a rainbow high up in the sky. Silently she pointed it out to her companions and they knew that they must be nearing the journeys end. Their spirits rose. All being well, their mission would soon be accomplished. The little band had almost forgotten that they had been warned to expect four ordeals. Behind them they became aware of a crackling sound like a thousand hunters carelessly snapping dry twigs underfoot. There was a drumming of hooves. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana all turned around at the same time. What they saw was a herd of buffalo and other panicking forest creatures galloping towards them at full speed. Behind these fear-crazed animals was a rapidly advancing wall of flames. There was nothing that Ade, Fetu, or Niniana could do but close their eyes and stand stock-still. They concentrated on forming a picture in their minds eye of the animals and the flames going around them and leaving them unharmed. They concentrated with all their might. The sounds of the animals hooves and the approaching fire came nearer and nearer. Ade, Niniana, and Fetu stood with linked arms not daring to breath. Nearer and nearer still, came the terrifying sounds. The animals were coming straight at them! At the very last
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minute when it appeared that Ade, Niniana, and Fetu would be trampled underfoot, the great beasts swerved to avoid them. There was no time to feel relieved. The fire was right behind them. They could feel its heat on their backs, but it seemed to have stopped advancing and be waiting expectantly for something to happen. Ade, Niniana, and Fetu, realizing that the fire was not going to advance further, started slowly walking forward again. The wall of fire moved following them, but without causing any damage. The thought passed between Ade, Niniana, and Fetu that the fire was both protecting them and escorting them on their way. The atmosphere changed; a soft light and a friendly loving feeling began to surround the three young people. They had never experienced anything like this before. Niniana sent the thought to Ade and Fetu that they were nearing journeys end. The rainbow was visible again. They could even see where the end of it touched the earth. Slowly they approached the spot realizing that this was where the Great-Spirit-Who-Created-All-ThingsOn-Earth had chosen to meet them. They felt great love and gratitude towards the Creator of this Earth who had supplied humankind with everything necessary to meet their needs. Ade, Fetu, and Niniana each silently expressed their gratitude and adoration. They had no doubt that Nibobobos curse was now powerless. The Great-Spirit-Who-Created-AllThings-On-Earth was to be found everywhere and in all things. The Great One is in the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars. Ade opened his leopard skin purse and took out the gold dust which his father had given him. He placed it carefully at the End of the Rainbow as a thanks-offering to the Great Spirit for showing a part of Himself through the Sun which was represented on Earth by gold. Carefully, Niniana removed the silver necklace from around her throat. She stepped forward and placed it next to the pile of gold dust. It was an offering to the Great Spirit for showing part of himself through the moon, which had to do with womanhood and was represented by silver. Niniana, Ade, and Fetu gave a heartfelt thanks that they had succeeded in their missionthey knew without a doubt that the palm trees would return to life, and be strong and healthy again. The three young people stood quietly for some time, and prepared themselves in body and spirit for the return journey. Getting to the Great- Spirit-Who-Created-All-Things-On-Earth had been a dangerous undertaking. In contrast, the return journey passed in the blink of an eye and was completely uneventful. Before they knew it Ade, Fetu, and Niniana were back in their home village. As they passed the village boundary, they noticed that the palm trees were looking strong and healthy. All was back to normal. Relatives and villagers greeted the three young people with love and respect; for all that they had been through on behalf of the whole village. Now, there was a happy event to make preparations forthe marriage of Fetu and Niniana.

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Akuas Foolish Wish

I want you to know the reason why young women in the Akan region of Ghana in West Africa are no longer allowed to make clay figures in memory of the dead. Imagination is a wonderful thing because it allows us to travel in our minds to any part of the Earth or the Heavens. So let us close our eyes and think of ourselves traveling over land and sea. We are heading for Ghana on the West Coast of Africa. Ghana used to be called the Gold Coast. On our arrival, we can see a golden haze covering everything, which is the sunlight glinting on the gold in the earth. Not only have we traveled through space, we have also traveled through time. We have turned the clock back three hundred years. The women of this village earn their living through making cooking pots, other utensils, and commemorative figures of the dead. There is no need to be alarmed at the idea of commemorative figures being made for dead people. The figures are placed in a special area of the forest. Dead people are not buried there. The village itself lies within a mile of a small, twisting river. The river is very important to village life. It provides water for drinking, cooking and bathing. It is from the river banks that the village women collect clay for their work. The men and young boys catch fish which the women dry, salt, or smoke to preserve them. The women also lend a hand with the farm work. So as you will understand, the women are hard-working and kept very, very busy. Making clay pots might seem like easy work. But in fact, it is quite the opposite. At regular intervals, fresh clay must be collected. After having completed their early morning chores, the women and some of the children set out to go to the river bank. They walk along the narrow forest path in single file balancing large woven baskets on their heads. In the baskets are the tools which they will require. Some of the children are too young to really help, but they will learn through watching what the grown-ups do. The women always go in a large group to fetch the clay. This way they can bring back more and it becomes an enjoyable occasion to exchange news and make jokes while working. On arrival at the river bank, the women remove their hoes from their baskets. A hoe (though a different shape and used differently) has the same functions as a spade. The women and older children use the hoes to dig the clay out of the river bank. This is hard, heavy, and dirty work. The clay is piled in the baskets. When they are full it is time to return home. Owing to the weight of the baskets, the journey back to the village takes much longer than the journey to the riverbank. From time to time, the party comes to a halt so that everyone can have a short rest. It is early evening before they return home. I am describing all this in detail so that you will better understand the story I shall tell you later. Even after the tiring task of collecting the clay, it still is not ready for use. On arriving home, everyone lends a hand helping the women to unload the clay from the baskets. It is stacked up in piles outside the house so that the roof of the house offers protection from the rain. This is to help the clay weather down and become easier to
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work with. After four to six weeks, the lumps of clay are put into a mortar and pounded with a pestle; then the clay is sieved to remove stones. Broken pots which have been ground to powder or sand is added to the clay. Finally, water is sprinkled on to the mixture. Then the women knead the clay until it is the right texture to use. Only at this point can the making of a pot or a commemorative figure begin. Many of the most useful things in life were made by the women from claycups, soup bowls, platters, cooking pots, huge water pots, and large bowls for bathing. The actual modeling was the part of the operation that the women and young girls enjoyed best. Not all women had the necessary talent. A young girl would be taught the skill by her mother or other female relative. The pots and figures are made without using a potters wheel. A number of large, shallow pots are placed one on top of the other until they are at a comfortable height for the potter when she is working standing up. She places the base from a broken pot so that it covers the mouth of the topmost vessel. This serves as a mould for the round base of the new pot. The potter begins by forming long cylinders of clay. She then coils the roll of clay round in the base of the broken pot. After this, she pinches the rolls together so that a good bond is formed and then smoothes them over. Further coils and lumps of clay are used to build up the pot. The commemorative figures are also formed in a similar fashion. The tools used are very simple and consist of things that are easily to hand such as pebbles, seeds, or corn cobs from which the corn has been eaten, and pieces of wood to smooth and beat the pots into perfect shape. Once the pots and the memorial figures have been made, they then have to dry out. The newly made objects are put in a shady hut so that they do not dry out too rapidly and crack. Depending on the time of year, drying takes between a few days and a week or so. The next step is the firing of the pots and figures. This is the final and most nerve-racking stage. The entire village helps to collect wood for a gigantic bonfire. All the potters fire their pots and figures together. The objects to be fired are carefully stacked on a bed of firewood, and then very, very carefully covered with more of the same material. A libation is offered to the Great Spirit asking for a successful firing. Then the bonfire is lit. The blaze may continue for many hours and the pots and figures will not be removed until the embers are cold. Every now and again, there is an explosive sound signifying that something has shattered. Each potter hopes that it is not one of her own pots or figures. Early the next morning, the pots and other items are removed from amongst the cold, blackened embers and the grey ashes. Each woman identifies her own pots and other objects. They are then transported to her home on the heads of as many helpers as she can find. After being washed to remove the grime of the firing, the pots are ready for use and for sale. The pots for sale must be taken to the local market some miles away. So this is a further chore. Now you can understand that the life of a potter is a very hard life. You will also understand the story I am about to tell you better.
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The women of the village and their daughters had been making pots and memorial figures for as long as anyone could remember. It was a way of life for them and they did not complain about the hard work. Selling their pots helped them to contribute towards family expenses and earned them respect in their husbands eyes. Some of their daughters, however, had a very different outlook. They were more concerned with pleasure-seeking. They were also not very keen on hard work. They were easily bored. The results of these attitudes were all too obviousfewer and less well-made pots and memorial figures. It was a young woman called Akua who caused everything to change. She was called Akua because she had been born on a Wednesday and Akua is the day-name for a girl born on a Wednesday. Her mother was an extraordinarily powerful healer and priestess. Akua had inherited all her mothers talents although she was unaware of this. One day, she and some other young women were modeling some very special memorial figures. The potters did not just make figures for their own village. The skills of the village women were known over a wide area and people with orders came from miles around. On this particular day, Akua and her friends were making figures to commemorate a recently deceased and very powerful chief who had been senior to their own local chief. As always when making commemorative figures the women were working in a private area away from curious eyes. The night before, Akua had spent much time gazing into a bowl of water and calling on the spirit of the dead chief to appear to her so that she could recall his likeness when modeling the face of the commemorative figure. There were to be figures of the chief himself, and members of his family and court as befits a person of distinction. It was the custom for a dead person to be buried within a few days of death. The commemorative figures played a part at the persons funeral and not in the actual burial. The funeral itself was held if possible forty days after death. At a chief s funeral, the whole community, as well as all those from the outside who had obligations to him, came together. Grief was expressed through offering condolences, eating, drumming, dancing, and singing dirges. In some areas, the figures represented the dead person at his or her funeral. They would be put where people could see them and were decorated with beads and beautifully colored hand-woven kente cloths. In the case of a really important chief, the figure might be carried around the town in the royal palanquin, which is a ceremonial hammock carried by the chief s courtiers. Akua and her companions applied themselves to their tasks with full concentration because it was important work they were doing. Akua modeled the figure of the chief. He was shown sitting on a royal stool. He sat as a chief should with a straight back, legs well apart with feet flat on the ground, and his hands resting lightly on his knees. Akua paid great attention to the shape of his head and his features, carefully modeling the scarifications on his cheeks. She showed the chiefly ornaments hanging around his neck and the bracelets he wore around his wrists and legs. It was a very fine model of the chief, and the figures representing his family and courtiers were also all that anyone could wish for.
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A special firing took place just for these very precious figures. To everyones delight there were no breakages, a great tribute to the skill of the potters. Normally, the figures would have been delivered to the people of the village who asked for them to be made and that would have been the end of the matter. But Akua was about to do something which would change the lives of the women of the village forever. She looked at the figure of the chief surrounded by his courtiers and said light-heartedly and without thinking, How I wish the figures could talk to us! Now, as I said earlier Akua was not aware of her powerful inheritance from her mother. Unbeknown to her, her wishes and thoughts had great creative and transforming power. Her wish was granted at the same time as its utterance. It was the most stupid thing to have wished for. The spirits of dead chiefs are always asked to give their blessing and protection to the people they have left behind. But no one wants to have dead chiefs around who behave as if they are still alive and in positions of authority. This situation could only lead to new and unforeseen difficulties for everyone. From this moment, the most extraordinary things started to happen. The amazed villagers found themselves with a chief and his retinue, all made of clay, who were capable of speech! Instantly there were numerous problems! The dead chief, in whose memory the clay figures had been made, had in fact, been of higher rank than the chief of Akuas village. The clay chief started to act in a very overbearing and attention-seeking manner. He demanded that goats and chickens be killed to make him his favorite dishes. Of course he could not eat the food, but he liked to be able to look at it and to smell it. The chief, in life, had had a rather vain streak in his character. Now he wanted to be draped with kente cloths and he wanted them changed six times a day. He wanted gold jewelry around his neck and arms. To satisfy this demand the women of the village brought their gold jewelry to adorn the clay figures. He wanted everyone in his entourage to look almost as splendid as himself. Customary courtesy demanded that the chief of Akuas village supply the chief of clay and his entourage with food, but his demands for beautiful clothes and jewelry were a different matter. The chief of Akuas village appealed to the new chief in the dead chief s village for help. The new chief claimed that whatever was happening was not his responsibility. He had commissioned commemorative figures for his predecessor. The strange situation which had arisen had nothing to do with him. The chief of Akuas village must manage as best he could. No good came to the other chief through trying to wash his hands of the matter. The talking clay chief, having created sufficient demands to keep the villagers scurrying around, felt that he now had time to attend to matters back in his home village. The clay chief demanded that Akuas chief send a spokesman to his village. He wished to be taken home under escort because he intended to give personal instructions for the building of an exten14

Dzagbe Cudjoe

sion to the palace, amongst a long list of other things. Word of this was sent to the new chief who was aghast at the idea of his predecessor returning home. The idea of his dead predecessor ordering him about was something he could not bear thinking about. Word was returned to Akuas village that the talking clay figures were not welcome back. The people in Akuas village must find their own solution. The villagers received this news with heavy hearts. What were they to do to solve this problem? Nothing like this had

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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

happened in the past so no one could look to tradition for an answer. The villagers racked their brains. In the meantime, the commemorative figures of the chief and his retinue became evermore bad-tempered and demanding. He wanted a beautiful palace built in his adopted village because he did not consider it fitting that he and his entourage should get wet during the rainy season. The clay figures were behaving in a totally selfish manner. Not in the way royalty should behave at all. In an attempt to put an end to this situation, Akua was ordered to take away the power of speech from the figures which she and the other young women had created. Akua, in the presence of the whole village, addressed the figures. She was very polite and very apologetic. I have been disrespectful and foolish she said. Please, she begged the figures, stop talking and move on to the next world where preparations to receive you have been made. There was complete silence for a number of hours. Then a mighty bellow shattered the peace of early evening as the chief demanded his supper. The problem had not been solved after all! Finally, the chief from the other village invited the chief of Akuas village and all the villagers to a meeting to look for solutions to the problem. Akua tried to hide herself amongst the group of young women. Not surprisingly everyone blamed the problem on her stupidity. This was somewhat unfair as Akua had not been aware of her great powers. There now seemed only one thing that would change the situation; it was such a terrible thing to do that it took a long time before anyone plucked up enough courage to suggest it. Finally, an old priest addressed the chief by his title. Nana, he said we must destroy the commemorative figures by smashing them into a thousand pieces. The next day the chief and his retinue arrived at Akuas village. The priest said a prayer. Oh Great Spirit, do not be offended by this act. It is not an insult to you. It is an acknowledgement of our foolishness and our inability to understand the Great Power which lives within each of us. Let the spirits for whom the clay figures were made continue on their journey in peace. Let peace and normality return to this village. The blacksmith handed his large hammer to the chief. The chief s arm rose and fell as he smashed the commemorative figures into smithereens. Fragments of red clay covered the earth. Everyone realized with deep relief that the commemorative figures had finally been silenced. The fragments of the figures were hung from the branches of trees in the forest. When the wind blew they tinkled, making it sound as if the commemorative figures were still talking hundreds of years later. This episode had one very important and long-lasting consequence. It was decided that young women should never again be allowed to make commemorative figures. This is why they are now produced only by men and a few very, very old women.
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Dzagbe Cudjoe

Fingers Of Fire
A tiny black speck surrounded by a great cloud of red dust came nearer and nearer and, as it did so, it became possible to make out what it was. The tiny speck turned out to be the most beautiful young boy. His most striking feature was his eyes. They were a deep indigo blue, the same color as the indigo-dyed cloths for rich mens turbans, which were traded across the Sahara. His complexion was a very dark brown, almost black in fact, with a beautiful blue sheen to it so that it seemed as if a thousand butterflies were dancing around and on him. It was difficult to tell his age. This little figure had not created the great cloud of red dust all by himself. He was running around excitedly, trying to drive a group of twelve or so goats home for the night. His efforts only sent the goats scattering in all directions, their hooves sending the dust flying into the air. The goats milling around the boy, whose name was Falisimu (Simu for short), were of two different breeds. There were the black and tan short-haired dwarf goats with short, sturdy legs, and the goats with spindly, long legs, long faces and droopy ears, which were easily mistaken for sheep. Some of the nanny goats of the smaller breed were pregnant and their sides bulged enormously. If their owners were lucky, they would have twins, perhaps even triplets. But triplets were tricky because a nanny goat only has two teats and the last and weakest kid would have difficulty getting his turn to feed. This was, in any case, not a good time of year to be born. The rains had not yet broken and there was very little food to be found. The goats were kept for meat, to be sacrificed or to be bartered. The nanny goats produced only enough milk for their kids so their milk was not drunk by the villagers or eaten as cheese. Once Falisimu had his herd of goats under control and walking quietly, he had time to think about his own life. He might only be ten or eleven years old, but he had already experienced momentous events in his short time in the world. The village and the house where he was now living were not, in fact, his real home. Falismu had been born in a village ten miles from Sansassa where he now lived. His father was a very ambitious man who wished to climb up the chieftaincy ladder. In order to do this, Falisimus father had to be elected to a more important chieftaincy. The problem was that it was customary to offer the Kingmakers who decided such things large sums of money to influence them to look favorably on the giver. These gifts alone were not the deciding factor in the Kingmakers decision. The gifts were to show them that the candidate was both wealthy and generous. There was no doubt that Falisimus father was a very generous man, but he was certainly not an extremely wealthy one. If Falisimus father was to advance his case, he would have to resort to an age-old traditional solution. All children belonged, legally, to the father and his side of the family. So Falisimus father decided to pawn him. This practice meant that Falisimu would be sent to a wealthy relative who lived some distance away. Falisimu would have to serve this relative, who in turn, would provide Falisimus father with the necessary money for his chieftaincy ambitions.
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Falisimu had been perhaps five years old when he made the journey from his home to Sansassa. He could still remember it clearly. An elderly uncle had transported him on an old donkey. He had sat on the donkeys back in front of his uncle with a large sack of yams stacked behind them. The yams were a present from his father to the uncle who was to give him a home. Falisimu and his uncle had wobbled and bumped over the uneven track for what seemed like days to Falisimu, but was really the best part of a day. At last, they came to the village of circular mud houses with thatched roofs and the main entrances decorated with plates set into the mud around the door frame. The houses were built around a cool inner courtyard. They blended so harmoniously into their surroundings that you had to be very close to the village to even realize that it was there. It was not large and had about two hundred inhabitants. Falismu (or as we shall call him from now on, Simu) entered the circular entrance hall with his uncle. This uncle greeted Uncle Bendu who sat surrounded by a large group of children and a number of his wives. Simu was introduced to him, and being a well brought up boy, greeted him respectfully. While his uncles talked eagerly, exchanging news about the two villages, Aunt Retutu, Uncle Bendus senior wife came and swept Simu off to eat with the other children. Suddenly Simu felt very small and lonely and he felt like crying. Aunt Retutu tried to comfort him and offered him a tasty meal of rice and chicken, which she had cooked as a special treat for him and his other uncle. Her adopted daughter Laliya, who was much the same age as Simu, came to sit beside him so that he did not feel so alone. Laliya was very tall for her age. She had a heart-shaped face and huge dark eyes which radiated intelligence and self-confidence. She was a very beautiful girl and the birthmark which covered the right side of her face did not alter this fact. That night Simu slept in the entrance hall with a group of boys aged about six to fourteen years old. So Simu was now part of a new household. Although Uncle Bendu was kind to Simu, he was somewhat distant, but Aunt Retutu made a great fuss of him. After a while, Simu felt truly part of the family and he became used to the routines of the house and the farm. All children were expected to be hardworking, polite, and respectful. Any major falls from grace were punished by beatings with a leather switch, water up the nose, and the pulling of ears. Often when children were sent to live with other relatives it was because it was thought that the childs true parents would love the child too much to be able to discipline him or her. In this part of Northern Ghana, virtually everyone in the village was a farmer. True, there were people sitting in the courtyard making mats, rope twining, or weaving, and there were the drummers, fiddlers, and others who did not go to farm. All these people though, had sons or male relatives who were sufficiently mature to tend the farms on their behalf. The sandstone soil surrounding the village was not very fertile. The mens farms were only about two or two and a half acres in size and situated anywhere from one to five miles
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from the village. The system of farming was to cultivate the soil for three to five years and then to leave it fallow for six to ten years so that it could regain its fertility. The men helped one another to prepare the soil for cultivation. For doing this, they received food and millet beer. The principal crops were yams, maize, guinea corn, rice, bambara beans and millet. Tobacco was also grown for sale. Payment was by barter or cauri shells. The women had their own work and responsibilities. Their kitchen gardens were located at the edge of the village. In them, they grew crops of peanuts, okras, garden eggs (a small variety of aubergine), and tomatoes. A woman could sell in the market the produce she did not need, as well as cooked foods and a number of other items. The money she gained belonged solely to her. The local market was held every six days in a different village. The northern part of Ghana is the only area where in times passed, mixed farming was possible. Cattle are a prized possession, to be slaughtered only on very important religious or social occasions. They show an owners wealth and are traded with reluctance. Chiefs and rich men sometimes also owned horses. They are still regarded today as symbols of their owners wealth and prestige. Sheep, goats, donkeys (as we already know), ducks, and chickens were also kept. Now you can understand how much work there was to be done in the village. Everyone had a part to play according to sex, age, and their position in the village hierarchy. A five-year-old boy would learn to scare birds from the seedbeds on the farm and to care for the chickens. Chickens had small thatched coops built for them near or inside the compound. The little boys had to put the chickens into carrying baskets and take them to the farm. There the chickens could scratch for worms and be fed ants collected by their young caretakers. From about the age of seven to ten a boy might be chosen to look after a flock of goats and sheep. During the dry season, it would be his duty to tether them in the shade and look for tender, leafy branches for them to browse on. The next promotion occurred around age twelve to fifteen when the boys might learn to herd cattle. During the day, the cattle were led into the bush to graze and taken home in the evening where they were tethered near the village, protected from flies by the dung fires. Horses were very carefully looked after. The boys would collect many different types of grass for the horses to eat. They removed the dirty bedding, hay, and manure. All this was put outside to dry in the sun and later burnt as fuel. The older boys were responsible for exercising and bathing the animals. They also took care of the horses unshod hooves. Little girls led a much less adventurous life, which kept them close to home. They learned to fetch water and carry the water pot home on their heads. In this task, they were helped by the very young boys. The girls also learned to cook, look after babies, find firewood, and process peanut oil and shea butter. Shea butter was used in cooking and also as a skin moisturizer. The girls might be taught to trade in the market and would certainly help in the kitchen gardens. All these tasks prepared them for a life as wives and mothers.
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Now that you know something about life in the village of Sansassa, we can return to Simus story. Two very unusual things about him soon revealed themselves to the villagers. The dry season was a time when there was not a great deal of farm work to be done. It was a time for funerals to be celebrated. In this part of the world when people die in the rainy season, they are buried but the actual formal funeral is performed later. It is also a time for dancing in the moonlight. During the day it is simply too hot for hard physical work. The dry season is also the time for fun and games. Tug-of-War was a favorite of the young men, as it allowed them to show off their strength to the girls of the village. It was during just such a game that something unusual and unsuspected about Simu showed itself for the very first time. The youths of the village had divided themselves into two teams. The leaders of each team held the ends of the rope and on the signal both teams of eleven men each, started pulling with all their might. The young men huffed and puffed and sweat dripped off of them, but neither side made any headway. They appeared to be absolutely evenly matched. The villagers shouted encouragement and the drummers played. Still there was no winner. Simu and Laliya, with whom he had become good friends, were standing at the front of the circle surrounding the two teams. Simu watched both teams very carefully before coming to a decision. He walked to the end of one of the teams, picked up the dangling end of the rope and pulled. To the great amazement of all present the other team was jerked forward and over the line. Simus team had won! No one believed that Simu had had anything to do with the victory. The two teams lined up again and pulled. As before, neither team could move the other. Now, the referee decided it was time to test Simu. Simu joined the team, which had been defeated last time. One end of the rope was given to Simu and the biggest, heaviest, and strongest man in the other group was given the other end. The referee signaled and they both pulled with all their might. It was total humiliation for Simus opponent. What a disgrace to be beaten by a young boy! The villagers had discovered one of the ways in which Simu was not like other boys of his age. Of course, the big question was where did Simu get his strength from? No one had an explanation. No one in Simus family was exceptionally strong, so he had not inherited this quality from any living relative. The Priests of the Earth and a Muslim Holy Man were also consulted. They turned to divination for an explanation. But no known ancestor was reincarnating through Simu. The general feeling in the family was that time would unveil the mystery. Although at first everyone was very uneasy about Simus great strength, they soon realized that he never used his strength against people in a harmful way and that the tremendous strength was only called to hand when he actually needed it. Most of the time he was just like any boy of his age. The villagers had just adjusted themselves to this side of Simu when a second very unexpected thing happened. It has already been mentioned that the dry season was the time
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when funerals and dances were held. There was something else, which people did during the dry season, and that was to hunt. There were some farming families where the men were well-known for their hunting skills. Men sometimes set up traps to snare wildlife such as birds and grass cutters (an edible cousin of the rat). The hunting dogs were excited at the prospect of the hunt. They were medium-sized, short-haired animals. They were their owners pride and joy and were looked after very carefully. They were well-fed and often had their own individual feeding bowls. Some even had names. The dogs were not, however, pets and slept out in the open air. The plan was to deliberately set fire to the grass, which was tinder dry, in order to drive the terrified game animals towards the hunters. The Chief Hunter poured a libation (that is a quantity of alcohol poured onto the ground as an offering to God and the ancestors) to ask for protection for everybody during the hunt. After this, he set fire to the grass. Hungry flames leapt into the air and spread greedily along the ground. Several large and terrified antelope galloped into view. The hunters hurled their missiles and a whistling sound and then a crack was heard, and the leading antelope fell heavily to the ground. The hunt had started well and the hunters entire attention was focused on the fleeing animals. Simu was a bold and fearless child. This was acceptable, even to be encouraged, in a male child, but most certainly not in a female. Laliya had both these characteristics and was thus considered to be a difficult and problematic child. Finding her a husband was certainly not going to be easy. Now on this day, the two of them had decided to follow the hunt. They waited until the hunting party was a good way ahead of them and then they followed, being careful not to be seen by their elders. In creeping along out of sight, they did not realize that they were no longer behind the hunters but in the path of the fire! Suddenly they were spotted. The hunters screamed at them in fear and terror to run out of the path of the fire. It was too late! Simu and Laliya looked up and saw the wall of fire fast approaching them. The hunters were watching transfixed in open-mouthed terror. There was nothing they could do! The two childrens faces mirrored only interest and pleasure. The flames came nearer and nearer to the two children and encircled them. Clouds of smoke hid them from everyones view. As the flames advanced, they sang We greet you Children of the Fire, Children of the Flames, Children of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. Create from the Fire and the Earth, things which have purpose and beauty. We will protect you and guide you. This female child will be your wife and together you will found an important lineage. Go in peace and with our blessings. The flames parted around Simu and Laliya and continued on their way. The shocked hunters decided to call it a day and everyone returned home. The first reaction was that Simu, and even Laliya, should be thrashed, but when Simu told them what the Flames had said to them, this course of action was abandoned. Once again, the
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

villagers were left wondering whether these two children were going to be a blessing or a curse to them. Over the next couple of months, the villagers watched Simu and Laliya like hawks looking for food in the dry season. They hoped that there would be no further strange happenings surrounding these children. Uncle Bendu found it especially difficult to relax, as he had a feeling that life-changing events always occurred in threes. He was tired of sending messengers to Simus father to explain the strange happenings surrounding his son. Time passed and Simu and Laliya behaved as was expected of them. They carried out their allotted tasks with enthusiasm and speed. Everyone relaxed and the previous events became a somewhat hazy memory. Then Uncle Bendu was given a most disturbing report by his most junior wife. Simu had offered his help in bringing water from the river. On the return journey, he had balanced a large pot full of water on his head, and on his back, wrapped up in a piece of bark cloth, he carried a large quantity of clay from the riverbank. Once home, Simu spread the clay to dry just outside the compound walls. At first, Uncle Bendus most junior wife had thought that perhaps Simu was going to make toy water pots and a clay stove for Laliya. It was soon clear that this was not the case. The quantities of clay collected and Simus attitude showed that he had a very serious purpose in mind. Uncle Bendus heart sank when he heard this story. He wished so very much that he had never lent his brother the money to further his chieftaincy ambitions, he felt regret that he had taken his strange little nephew into his compound as a pawn for his fathers loan. All Uncle Bendu wanted was a peaceful life with no unpleasant surprises. He knew, however, that life is just not like that. Uncle Bendu, with a heavy heart and fearing the worst, sent word that he wanted to see Simu immediately in his private room. Simu soon appeared and greeted his uncle. Before saying anything Uncle Bendu sent up a heartfelt prayer asking that anything he was to hear would not be bad news. He then asked Simu exactly what he intended to do with the pile of clay he had collected. Simu was only too happy to tell his Uncle why he needed such large amounts of clay. It had all begun when Simu had decided to see if he could start a fire by himself. There were no imported matches and the traditional way of lighting a fire called for considerable skill. First of all, Simu had taken a handful of kapok and rubbed it over the base of a cooking pot so that it became very sooty. He had then placed this at the base of a large rectangular and very hard stone. Using a different stone he struck against the lower part of the larger stone just above the kapok. It had taken about nine blows from the stone before the kapok caught fire. Simu had fanned the flames by blowing on the kapok, which he then used to light a bundle of straw which set up a good blaze. Suddenly Simu was aware of a voice. It was a voice which came from the earths fiery heart. It sounded like molten lava creeping over rock. The chorus was made up by the voices of the flames, high and piping, rising and falling. At first Simu had been startled, but then recognized the voices as those he had first heard during the hunt. The flames once again sang,
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We greet you Child of the Fire, Child of the Flames, Child of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. Create from the fire and the Earth, things which have purpose and beauty. We will protect you and guide you. We cannot tell you, nor would you understand why you have been chosen for this very special task which will transform the lives of many, many people. Trust us. Have faith in us. Our voices will guide you. You must begin your work by collecting a large quantity of clay from the riverbank. When you have sufficient clay we will talk to you again. Until then, farewell and blessings be upon you. Uncle Bendu believed Simus explanation and was greatly relieved to learn that the work involved was to be of benefit to people. So he sent Simu on his way after telling him that he must always behave in a responsible fashion. So Simu went on collecting his clay to be used for a purpose as yet unknown. Laliya overheard a group of women discussing Simus undertaking. She decided to help Simu, and each morning and evening, the two children returned home with a pot of water on their heads and a bundle full of clay slung over their shoulders. The pile of clay outside the compound grew higher and higher and spread further and further. It was a few weeks later as Simu and Laliya were eating their breakfast of millet porridge, seated near Aunt Retutus charcoal-burning clay hearth, that the Spirit Voices were heard again. They uttered their usual greeting We greet you Children of the Fire, Children of the Flames, Children of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. Create from the fire and the Earth things which have purpose and beauty. We will protect and guide you. The time has come for you to start your appointed task. Now, you will learn why you have collected a mountain of clay. First of all you must pound the dried-out clay and remove all the stones and twigs and leaves from it. Then you must add water to it and pound and knead it until it becomes like the clay which the women use to make pots. When you have done all this we will speak to you again. With that the burning embers ceased speaking. Simu was a well-brought up child, so he wasted no time in telling his uncle about the latest developments. Uncle Bendu, mindful that he had been told that Simus project would be for the benefit of everyone, gave orders that his entire household was to lend a hand. Everyone, young and old, turned out. It was hard work pounding the clay and removing the stones and even harder work when water was added and the clay had to be thoroughly kneaded. Everyone worked steadily, but it still took two days before the clay could be stored under wet mats to prevent it from drying out. The Spirits of the Earth and Fire then revealed the next stage of the plan to Simu. Everyone turned out early in the morning to begin work. Simu could not see the Spirits, but he could feel them speaking to his mind. Simu was told to sort guinea corn stalks into three bundles and to tie each bundle together using hibiscus fiber. After doing this, Simu paused for a moment to receive further
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

instructions before he dug a hole in the ground. He carefully placed the bundles of sticks upright in the hole and pressed loose earth firmly around them to support them in that position. Simu then asked one of the women to bring him a wooden mortar. He picked up a small handful of straw. To each portion of very soft clay he added a handful of straw before the clay was thoroughly kneaded in the mortar. A large group of young men were helping Simu and the work had got off to a good start. At this point, Simu did not know what to do next and he looked embarrassed. He concentrated very hard and the Spirits of the Earth and Fire instructed him to take a handful of the moist clay and to slap it onto the base of the guinea corn stalks still standing embedded in the ground. He did this, pressing the clay firmly against the stalks. By this time the whole village was abuzz with excitement and everyone had his or her own theory as to what Simu was making. Uncle Bendu rose to the occasion and arranged for an especially hearty breakfast to be taken out to Simu and his helpers. After this hearty meal, everyone returned to work with renewed vigor. Simu was eager to press on with the work. He took two more bunches of stalks, tied them around with fiber as before, and embedded the lower end of the bundles into the earth. He called upon two of his assistants to steady the bundles of stalks while he plastered them with clay. With that accomplished, Simu waited once more for further instructions. He was told to take two slabs of clay and form them into large, deep pots. These pots were to be attached to the top of each of the columns made out of the clay-covered stalks. Work then ceased for the clay to dry out slightly. It was thirsty work in all that heat. Uncle Bendu felt this was a good time to send pots of Pito (millet beer) to all those working to quench their thirst and to give them renewed energy. Uncle Bendu thought to himself, what a strange turn of events this was. Such important work being led by a young boy. But he knew that Simu was not really a child, either in physical strength or in understanding. In spite of himself, Uncle Bendu was beginning to feel very curious and excited about this event. Simu was sitting unnoticed by himself under some trees. The sun had come up and it was about 35 degrees Celsius so Simu had sensibly sought some shade. He heard the voices of the Spirits of the Earth and Fire who wished to reassure him. We greet you again Child of the Fire, Child of the Flames, Child of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. Very soon you will understand the work you are now undertaking. Listen to us very carefully, because the next part of the work is extremely important and must be carried out with great care. Simu stood up and knew exactly what must be done. The clay for the next stage needed special preparation. Simu added kapok and rice stalks to the clay to prevent it from cracking on drying out. He took two bunches of bush grass, about one meter twenty in length and ten centimeters in diameter, and bound them around spirally with lengths of fiber. Simu was told by the Spirits that further work should be done inside the compound in a shady place where children were unlikely to cause any
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damage. Simu carefully covered the grass bundles with clay. He plastered clay daubs on all sides of the bundles and gently rolled them backwards and forwards on the ground. Work was progressing well, the Spirits assured Simu. He had only two more things to do that day. He must take a sharp stone and outline an oval shape in the bottom of the pedestal he had first made. This done, Simu was instructed to form a lump of clay into a cone with a flat top and to make a hole by pushing a thick guinea corn stalk through it. Everything must now be left to dry out slightly overnight, the Spirits of the Earth and Fire told Simu. Even those people who had not played an active role in the proceedings felt worn out with excitement. So ended day one of Simus mysterious project. The next morning, after a good nights sleep, everyone was anxious to start work as early as possible so as to enjoy the cool of the morning. Simu knew what he had to do and gave instructions for further work on all the objects which they had created on the previous day. Clay was added, straw removed and shapes of things were adjusted. The two columns, onto which the two deep clay pots had been attached, each had a circular hole cut into one side. Simu urged all the young men to watch what he was doing so that they could do the same thing in the future. This was the time when the pipe-like structures, which had been made the previous day, were to be fired. The firing took place on a nearby guinea corn farm. A special grass was scattered on the ground and the pipes placed on top. Then came a layer of dried leaves and twigs and finally small logs of wood. The bonfire was set alight and left until it burnt itself out. Simu raked the ash away and there were the two blackened pipe-like structures. When they were cool, a stick was pushed right through the holes to remove the now charred stalks, around which they had been built. Simu ordered that the pedestals, with their attached pots, should be turned upside down so that the stalks could be removed. This was so that the inside of the structure could dry out. On the completion of these tasks, Simu heard that well-known salutation We greet you again Child of the Fire, Child of the Flames, Child of the Sun. You and your companions have done well. Everything that needs to be made from the clay of the Earth is now finished. Go and rest until tomorrow morning. Simu and his companions did as they were bid. What Simu and his companions had created was a furnace (the chimney-like piece), two bellows (the pedestals with the pots mounted on top) a tuyere (the cone-shape with a flattened top through which air is forced into a furnace), and two connecting pipes. The next day, Simu received instructions as to how the various items were to be assembled. A number of young men carried the furnace some distance from the compound boundary. It was set upright on the ground. A bank of clay was built up one side of it so that the furnace was supported at an angle. The arch shape at the bottom of it was cut away to allow the tuyere to be inserted into the opening. The two bellows were placed at some distance behind the furnace. Then one end of the fired pipes was inserted into the previously made opening in the bellows. The other end of the pipes was inserted into the tuyere at the base of the furnace.
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

There was now only one small detail to be attended to before the equipment would be ready for action. Its future use still remained a mystery. Everyone was under the impression that the hard work was over when Simu received further instructions from the Spirits of Earth and Fire. We greet you yet again Child of the Fire, Child of the Flames, Child of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. You and everyone who has helped you have worked long and hard. There is one final item which you must all go out and collect. Then you will be able to learn the secret of this object which you have made. You need a special type of stone. When you come to it in the countryside we will tell you. Simu told Uncle Bendu that he would need help with this task. Uncle Bendu was only too happy to give instructions that all the young men in his household should lend a helping hand. They all set off in the direction of the bush with Simu at their head. He walked quite briskly because he knew that the Spirits would tell him when they had reached the correct spot. The party had walked about two miles when Simu came to a halt. He knew that this was the place where they had to dig. They did not have to dig deep and had soon filled their large woven baskets with stones. The journey home took longer, as everyone was carrying a heavy load and could not walk quickly. Once back at the village, the young men emptied the baskets of stone near where everything had been set up. The Spirits ordered everyone to rest for a week. Then the whole village must be present because something very wondrous was to happen on the appointed day. The great day dawned. By first light, all the villagers were to be seen moving in the direction of the farm where Simu had been working so hard. They were dressed in their best finery and full of eager anticipation. Parents had been telling their offspring that they would tell their children and their childrens children about the things which they would witness that day. Everyone was present from babies to the very aged. They stood or sat in a semi-circle. The early morning air was cool. For a brief moment, both the moon and the sun were seen together in the sky. After everyone was assembled, the Chief arrived on horseback surrounded by his courtiers. The Chief s drummers sang his praises and danced before him. Uncle Bendu felt his chest expanding with pride, Simu, after all, was his nephew. Nevertheless, he felt apprehensive too. What was to happen? Who could foretell? Once the Chief had taken his place, the Priest of the Earth stepped forward. He was a very, very old man, whom age had bent almost double. He belonged to a group of people in the village who maintained that their ancestors from time immemorial had always lived in the area. Unlike the majority of the villagers, they had no history of entering the area from another place. This was why an elderly man from that group always assumed the role of Priest of the Earth. The old man walked slowly into the center of the semi-circle. In his right hand, he carried a small calabash full of water. Those people who had been sitting on the ground quickly stood up. The old man paused and then, in a surprisingly deep and tremor-free
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Dzagbe Cudjoe

voice, he began his prayer. Raising the calabash with both hands into the air he said, Great Creator of the Earth and Sky we greet you, We thank you for the Earth which enables us to be creators in our turn. Let what we discover from the Earth today be for the benefit of mankind. We salute you Great Creator!
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Then the old man poured a few drops of water on the ground in front of his feet. Noble Ancestors remember those of us you have left behind. Join our intelligence with your intelligence that we may have a positive outcome to what we are about to undertake today. Protect all those taking part. The old priest poured a few drops of water on the ground in front of his feet. Great Mother Earth, reveal to us today the gift that you are making us. Let the gift reveal itself peacefully, harmoniously, and in safety. We salute you! On saying this, the priest poured water from the calabash for the third and final time. A chicken was handed to the priest who offered it in sacrifice for a successful outcome to the proceedings. Afterwards, the chicken was put to roast over a fire of smoldering straw. Simu stepped forward and picked up two specially prepared antelope skins. He placed the skins, hair side downward, over the top of the two bellows, and tied them in place with strong, twine. The skins were arranged in such a way that, when pulled upwards, they were cone-shaped. Simu felt that everything was now ready and as it should be. He closed his eyes and saw in his imagination great tongues of fire leaping from Earth to Heaven. The brightness of the colors was such that Simu was almost blinded. Then he heard the voice which came from the Earths fiery heart and sounded like molten lava creeping over rock We greet you Child of the Fire, Child of the Flames, Child of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. Create from the Earth things which have purpose and beauty. We will protect you and guide you. We cannot tell you, nor would you understand why you have been chosen for this very special task which will transform the lives of many, many people. Trust us. Have faith in us. Our voices will guide you. Simu ordered that dry vegetation be put into the tall funnel and set alight with a bunch of grass. The Great Work was about to begin. Simu felt a wave of power welling up through the Earth and surging through his feet and up through his entire body. He felt as though, in a split second, he had grown into a giant with a giants mighty strength. He strode somewhat self-importantly towards the clay furnace, which he had helped build; but then the thought came to him, that he must be humble because there were many older and wiser men with great responsibilities present. The swagger disappeared from his walk. He appeared at the back of the strange-looking structure and lifted his arms high to pull at the skins covering the top of the bellows. What a humiliation! His arms were not long enough. No one laughed at Simu and someone went to fetch him a bench to stand on. Standing on the bench he was tall enough to grasp the center of the skins and to pull them upward. As he did so, he threw back his head and let out a great Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh! The sound went on and on, as if there was an echo. Simu pushed the skins downwards into
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the bellows and let out a long Ughhhhhh! which sounded as if it were disappearing into the earth. Uncle Bendu was heard to tell one of his neighbors that he, Uncle Bendu, would go down in history because of his nephew Simu. Excitement was mounting but still no one knew what the outcome of the exercise might be. After about ten minutes of pumping, one and a half large calabash loads of charcoal were fed into the furnace through the funnel. Five minutes later, one calabash of the especially collected stone and three calabashes of charcoal were added. Simu gave instructions that a group of young men should break the stones into small pieces. By this time, people from other villages were arriving, having heard what was happening in Sansassa. A musician with a one-stringed violin was playing, people were singing, the women were ululating and waving cloths at Simu to cool him down. Simu pumped and pumped with his head thrown back and the sweat pouring off of him. As he pumped, he heard the Spirit Voices, You are the Fire, You are the Flames, You are the Child of the Sun. You are in the process of creating things which have purpose and beauty, using the power of the fire and the Earth. Simu drank calabash after calabash of water, but he refused to eat. At regular intervals, charcoal and stone were poured into the furnace. Someone thoughtfully attached green branches to the front of the bellows to protect Simus hands from the heat and to prevent the bellows skins from drying out. People were milling about and there was much to-ing and fro-ing. No one had been paying the slightest attention to Laliya. She was standing on the outside of the throng of people. Suddenly she pushed her way through the crowd and fearlessly went and stood near Simu demanding at the top of her voice to be allowed her turn to pump. There was instant pandemonium. Her father ordered her to go back to the compound. Her mother wept and everyone asked themselves how a girl could behave in such a fashion. There was a stunned silence as Simu climbed down off the bench and helped Laliya take his place. Simu was mindful of what he and Laliya had been told by the Spirit Voices. Both children heard the Voices sing We greet you Children of the Fire, Children of the Flames, Children of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. Create from the fire and the Earth things which have purpose and beauty. We will protect you and guide you. This female child will be your wife and together you will found an important lineage. Laliya pumped the skins up and down for an hour and a half, a tremendous feat. Her father was so overcome that he had to be physically supported by his friends. The older people realized that they were witnessing Simu and Laliya helping the Earth to give birth. They were acting as midwives to her.
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

By this time, Simu was totally exhausted and on the point of collapse. So the Spirits told him to allow any young man who volunteered, to take a turn at pumping. Many young men eagerly came forward, but many did not last longer than a few minutes. The furnace was regularly filled with charcoal and stone. To give those working renewed energy, the women brought out specially prepared food and millet beer. The Chief of the village had contributed a cow to provide the meat Simu felt refreshed after his rest and went back to pumping. He had pumped for about an hour when the voices told him it was time for the next stage in the proceedings. Under Simus direction, the bellows, skins, and the pipes were removed first. Then the front of the furnace was broken open and much unburnt charcoal and stone removed. This uncovered what appeared to be a large stone formed by the stone and charcoal fusing together. Everyone looked at it and felt at a loss. No one knew what it was or what should be done with it. The Voices of the Flames and the Earth spoke to Simu We greet you again Child of the Fire, Child of the Flames, Child of the Sun. We bow down to you, we honor you. You have created from the fire and the Earth a thing which has purpose and beauty. We will tell you what you need to do. The slab was placed on top of the glowing charcoal and then covered with more charcoal. It was removed red-hot from the fire, placed on a flat stone and then hammered. The slab was repeatedly allowed to become red-hot in the fire and then hammered until it became a sufficiently thin, roughly rectangular shape. Simu attached the slab to a round handle by bending the upper edges so that they encircled it. The slab was then bent at an angle so that it formed a scoop. Everyone looked at this object with bewilderment. The voices whispered to Simu, he gave a triumphant smile, held the object over his head, and then brought it sweeping down and into the earth. Everyone realized with amazement that a new and more efficient digging stick had been invented. Simu had extracted iron from the earth. He was the first person in Northern Ghana to smelt iron. He had fulfilled the prophecy by creating an object which had purpose and beauty. The praise singers who had been quiet for some time leapt into action. Simu the special child beloved of the Creator, Simu the child beloved of the flames, the fire and the Earth Through Simu they have spoken to the people of Sansassa and far beyond Through Simu they have presented us with a great gift The knowledge, which he has brought to us, will enrich our lives We give thanks to the Creator May Simu become the head of a lineage, which extends far further than the eye can see May he enjoy long life and prosperity Let him be known as Falisimu, the boy who heard the Voice of the Fire, and the Flames and the Earth,
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Dzagbe Cudjoe

and that became Simus praise-name. Later that day, Simu took one of the nuggets of iron. He beat it into a ribbon and then bent both ends so that a circle was formed. He gave this bracelet to Laliya as a gift. Simu and Laliya did, as predicted, get married. After Simu and Laliyas death, it became a tradition that the bracelet was passed to the wife of the son who inherited his illustrious forbears great gifts. This then is my version of how the technique of iron smelting came to the little village of Sansassa in Northern Ghana. Whether it is true or not who knows?

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Dzagbe Cudjoe

Journey To The Chest Of Gold

Would all passengers travelling to 18th century Ghana, formerly known as the Gold Coast, please make their way to Gate thirty-one? A party of schoolchildren and I were going on a field trip. We would be travelling through time and space. We had been waiting for several hours at the Timeodrome and we were anxious to be on our way. Once aboard the time craft, we fastened our seat belts for take-off. We knew that on arrival we would shed our physical bodies of bones, skin, tissue, and organs. These would not be necessary. The spiritual, emotional, and reasoning sides of us as human beings would give us invisibility and also keep us safe in the different conditions that time travel would bring. I was a little disappointed that we would not catch glimpses of world history as we flashed through time. Anyway I felt privileged to be taking a party of children to a time and a place that was rarely visited these days. It seemed that we were no sooner seated, than we had arrived at our destination. The local Timeodrome was actually in the midst of a grove of trees in a forest sacred to the local peoples ancestors. There was no transport to be seen and luckily we did not need any. We had only to think where we wanted to be and we would all be transported there. I instructed the children that we would all meet in the outer courtyard of the Asantehenes palace. No sooner had we all thought Take me to the outer courtyard of the Asantehenes palace, than we were there. None of us had ever seen such sights. Here was a clean, well laid-out city with wide streets and well-maintained houses. There was a great hustle and bustle with people passing by all looking as if they had important things to attend to. It was easy to distinguish the well-to-do. The men wore beautifully woven, brightly colored patterned kente cloths thrown over the left shoulder like a roman toga. They were adorned with pure gold necklaces, bracelets, and rings on their fingers. The poorer people wore bark cloth or plain hand-woven cotton cloths. High officials walked around accompanied by lesser officials. Gold staffs of office were much in evidence with these people so that any passer-by immediately recognized that persons rank and office. I, as a teacher, knew something of the history behind what we were all seeing with our own eyes, but nothing had prepared me for such colorful splendor. I explained to the children that the King of this kingdom was known as the Asantehene. It was a kingdom that had grown rich trading in gold; at first across the Sahara to North Africa, and from there onwards to Europe. In 1471, the Portuguese reached the coasts of what was later to be known as the Gold Coast. As a result of this contact, gold was transported southwards to the coast and sold to the Portuguese, the Dutch, the Swedes, the Danes, and the English.
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Trade had led to conflict. The European powers quarreled amongst themselves and intertribal warfare became common. The wicked trade in slaves had followed the decline in the gold trade. Blame for this horrific period of history lies with both sides. The trade in gold led to great riches for the Kingdom of Ashanti. A strong system of government existed with strict laws, taxes, and tolls on the roads. Treasury officials were responsible for collecting and spending large sums of gold. Gold dust was used as currency to pay taxes, and for ceremonial purposes. Gold was also used to make most of the regalia and the ornaments worn by the chiefs. Gold beads and nuggets of gold were used in womens jewelery and in finger rings and chains for men. On the death of the Asantehene, his body was covered in gold dust. We were all standing in the middle of a very large courtyard in front of the Asantehenes palace. People passed by us, but we were invisible to their eyes. The palace was made up of a number of courtyards surrounded by buildings. The palace and the surrounding buildings were built of mud plastered onto a timber framework. The very steep roofs were covered with a thatch of palm leaves. The mud was made from the local laterite soil, which gave the buildings an orange-brown color; the plaster had been smoothed and polished so that it gave off a dull coppery-red glow. The buildings were very richly decorated with raised designs modeled into the mud plaster. There were birds and animals, leaf motifs, flowers and geometric designs. The small windows had carved wooden shutters to keep the sun out and the room cool. The left-hand shutters were covered in silver and the right-hand ones were covered in gold. The upper areas of the walls and the columns of the buildings had been painted with white clay. The sight of the buildings took my breath away! The children and I found ourselves standing wide-eyed and open-mouthed with amazement. No reading of history textbooks had prepared me for these sights. I pulled myself together and told everyone to cross the courtyard and enter the palace by the main entrance. The men passing us had removed their brightly colored kente cloths from over their left shoulder and had tied them around their waists. This is a mark of respect. No man may enter a palace, a shrine, or stand before someone of importance with his shoulders covered. Some of the women were carrying young babies and children tied onto their backs with a cloth. The children seemed to be both snug and secure. As we walked through an audience chamber, we noticed what looked like a European straight-backed chair. But there was a very noticeable difference. The seat and the central area of the back of the chair were covered with what appeared to be elephant leather. All the remaining areas were decorated with round-headed European brass tacks set so closely together that their edges touched. I explained to the class that it must be a chief s chair based on a European model. Around the room and propped at an angle against the wall so that the spirits cannot sit on them, were a large number of stools. Each had been carved from a single piece of soft wood. The area connecting the seat of the stool to the base was elaborately carved. The carvings were sometimes abstract shapes and sometimes of animals. I knew that the decoration represented a proverb or wise saying.
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Some of the stool patterns were reserved exclusively for the Asantehene or for his courtiers. We walked along until we were in front of a very strong wooden door. The door was held shut by a huge European padlock of the kind used to lock chests containing money and documents. This was the Royal Treasury and to visit it was the object of our journey through time. We could only stay one day and we had come specifically to learn about the role of goldweights. We had already talked about goldweights before we left on the trip, but I decided to refresh my pupils minds. At this period in time (the 18th century), I reminded them that anyone who had anything to do with trade needed a set of goldweights and all the other things connected with them such as spoons, scoops, boxes, sieves, and scales. Goldweights were made from brass by highly-skilled goldsmiths. They were made by the lost wax method so that only one object could be produced from each mold as the mold itself was destroyed by the casting process. The model for the casting of a goldweight by the lost wax method could be a natural object such as a shell, insect, or a wax sculpture. Parts of plants, insects, crabs, seeds, and fruits with hard shells were often used for this purpose. The objects would be covered with clay and when the clay was completely dry the object used to make the mold would be burnt out in the fire. Weights with geometric designs were mostly made by carving into a block of wax to which ornamental wax threads were sometimes applied. The figures made as molds for goldweights were usually produced by putting together many individual wax parts. Although the figures were stylized, great care was paid to details such as hairstyles, clothing, and equipment. The patterns of animal skins, horn shapes, and birds feathers were also carefully modeled. If it was a good casting it only needed cleaning and polishing before use. Most goldweights are quite small. Few figures exceed 2cm. The children were becoming restive. The time had come to enter the Royal Treasury of the Ashantehene. This was equivalent to entering the vaults of the Bank of England or those of Fort Knox in the United States of America. It did not matter that the door was padlocked and bolted. In our state, we were able to simply pass through the door or the walls. We all found ourselves in a very dark room. The only light came from the cracks in the shutters at the windows. When our eyes had adjusted to the change in the level of light we saw the two most important objects in the room; these were the Treasury Chest and the Goldweight Bag. This was the domain of the Chief Treasurer. He guarded the knowledge of the goldweights and was also responsible for making the gold dust up into packets of a certain value and for distributing them when necessary. He in his turn had under him, men specially trained in weighing out the gold. There was very careful control of these public funds and all gold dust was paid in or out by the Treasurer. The Treasury itself was a large wooden chest with metalwork decoration. All transactions had to be witnessed by several officials. Each time a packet was removed, a cowry shell was put in its place. This helped keep the accounts straight.
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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

The Goldweight Bag was treated with great reverence because it was believed to be part of its owners soul. Ordinary people had sets of goldweights and their own goldweight bag, but the Asantehenes was especially important as he represented the soul of the Ashanti nation. Since the weight bag was a bulky object and some of the weights were not needed very often, most people had a smaller bag for everyday use. This was the bag which would be taken to market or when its owner traveled any distance from home. BOOM! BOOM! The sound startled us all. It sounded like a cannon firing a ceremonial gun salute. Surely this could not be! But indeed it was. We were able to look through the fabric of the Goldweight Bag and what did we see amongst the other weights, but a cannon! Do be quiet, said a slow, deep voice. It was a goldweight in the shape of a man holding an egg. His associated proverb was Once an egg is broken you cannot repair it. I suppose this is the equivalent of Its no use crying over spilled milk. The cannon was extremely pig-headed and full of himself. He had been nicknamed Boom Boom by the other weights for obvious reasons. I am the only one amongst us who has come from overseas and who knows how people live in England, claimed Boom Boom self-importantly. That is not true, said the brass buckle firmly. I arrived attached to the shoe of an English merchant. When I became detached from his shoe, someone found me and gave me to the Asantehenes Treasurer to use as a goldweight. I have seen a great deal because my master traveled all over the world. Perhaps that is so, admitted Boom Boom reluctantly, but I am the very latest model in cannon, he announced proudly. You do not fight, said the State Sword contemptuously, cannons like you are placed at the entrance to the palace for purposes of prestige. Your arrival on the scene has brought nothing but trouble to the people who live here. The State Sword had reason to hate the cannon because before cannon and firearms appeared on the scene, swords, spears, and daggers had been the main weapons of war. Due to the introduction of firearms, the sword had ceased to be a weapon of war and had instead become a badge of office. Now they had become purely ceremonial with two or more blades. They were, it is true, to be seen on all State occasions. When swords and spears fell into disuse, so too did the use of shields so it was not surprising that the Shields should be in agreement with the State Swords. They too had been an important piece of equipment. Associated with the Shield goldweights is the proverb When a shield is worn out the framework remains. This means that when the head of the family dies, that family will still continue to survive. The atmosphere in the Goldweight Bag was becoming very bad-tempered. The pistol and the cartridge belt felt that it was time to say something wise and soothing and to show that not all imported goods were snobs. To be accurate, the cartridge belt was locally made but it did contain imported bullets.
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Gold Dust Scoop Gold Dust Box

Gold Dust Box

Padlock

Gold Dust Spoon

Geometric Goldweight

Gold Dust Sieve Buckle

Geometric Goldweight

State Horn

Man covering his mouth with one hand and holding his stomach with the other

Stool

Pangolin Man with walking stick carrying firewood Drum

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Shield

Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Cannon

Dagger State Sword Pistol Ammunition Belt

Fly Wisk

Fly Wisk

Fan

Sandals

Tobacco Pipe

Harp

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Dzagbe Cudjoe

Antelope Tortoise Baboon eating corn cob

Snake

Cockroach

Sankofo Bird Mythical Creature

Cat Fish

Saw Fish

Two crocodiles with one stomach

Crocodile

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Tales My Ghanaian Grandmother Told Me

Axe Axe

Cutlass

Bellows

Drum Stick Peanut Snake

Chicken Foot Hammer

The pistol quoted the proverb associated with itself, It is only when the gun has a man to cock it, that it performs war-like deeds, meaning that the cause of trouble is to be found near at hand, not far away. The cartridge belt countered with the proverb, The cartridge belt of the famous warrior Akowua, has never been known to lack bullets, implying that a resourceful man may face difficulties, but he is never at a loss for a solution.
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You think too much of yourselves, said a gruff voice. This was the goldweight in the shape of a cutlass speaking. We do so agree with you, said the Axe and the Hammer together. We can be used as weapons but we have a far more important role as tools. Everyone needs to use us. I, myself, am vital in clearing the ground for farming and in the harvesting of crops. Im useful for household work as well. A very important proverb is associated with me, The cutlass of death does not weed only in one place, meaning that all of us must die sometime. True, true, chorused most of the goldweights in the goldweight bag. Only the geometric weights were silent because they had no proverbs attached to them. Without you Tools we would be unable to grow well. We would be choked by weeds, declared the goldweights in the shape of a peanut and an okra pod (a green vegetable). We also have an important role in reminding people of wise sayings, said the peanut. I, myself, represent the saying, Marriage is like peanuts. You must crack them to see what is inside. What is being said in simple terms is that you cannot tell what marriage is like until you have tried it. My proverb is, said Okra proudly, the okra does not show its seeds through its skin. This means that men suffer in silence. That there is more in a mans mind than shows in his face. That is so true, chorused the only two female goldweights. One was of a woman holding a child and sitting on a stool, and the other a woman with a child on her back and carrying a basket with farming implements. We goldweights can teach the people of the world much wisdom, they both agreed. There was a figure of a man covering his mouth with one hand and holding his other hand on his stomach. He said thoughtfully, I represent a proverb that we ourselves would do well to remember. One should never bear ones stomach a grudge, which as we know means that however unpleasant someone is who you need, you must put up with him because you have no choice. The children and I were totally fascinated to be watching and eavesdropping on the goldweights conversation. Many of the goldweights were not making a contribution to the discussion. It was perhaps not surprising that the figure of a man smoking a pipe and carrying a keg of gunpowder on his head had nothing to say. His proverb was even when you carry gunpowder you smoke, a very foolish thing to do! All the goldweights in the shape of musical instruments were silentthe State horns made from the tusks of young elephants, the harp, the drums and the drum sticksall kept their own counsel. The horse-hair fly-whisks, the sandals, the stools which played an important role in society, the tobacco pipes, and the decorative fans woven from strips of palm leaves and used by women were also silent.

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The Asantehenes Goldweight Bag contained many hundreds of weights of all shapes and sizes There were also sawfish, catfish, scorpions, pangolins (the African version of an armadillo), and bush cows (dwarf buffalo) to name but a few. We have much to teach the people who use us, mused the baboon. He had been sculpted eating a corn cob. His proverb was You cant force a baboon to eat tamarind fruits, which is the equivalent of One mans meat is another mans poison. You know, said the snake thoughtfully, the people who use us have revealed their thoughts and feelings on many subjects by the proverbs which they have given us. My proverb is The black cobra is dreaded even if it has no ill intent. The children and I thought, Yes we understand that proverb, its the equivalent of our giving a dog a bad name. Snakes are not the only creatures to be associated with important proverbs, said one of the many birds with dignity. Consider the following proverbs, One bird in your hand is better than ten birds in the sky or The hen knows when it is dawn, but she leaves it to the cock to announce it. Then there is my friend the mythical sankofa bird whose head is turned around so that he can look backwards. He is telling us to use the wisdom of the past. While talking of mythical creatures, dont forget us, interrupted the goldweight in the form of two crocodiles who share one stomach. Dont forget our proverb The crossed crocodiles have one belly, but they struggle when they are eating. This means, in case you have all forgotten, that relatives should not quarrel because they all belong to one family and depend on it for its members well-being. Now the antelope is a very shy creature, but he plucked up courage and explained the story behind his proverb, which is It is always too late to say had I known. The story is that at one time the antelope had such long horns that he sometimes wounded other animals with them. So he decided to shorten his horns and asked his friends to push them a little way into his head. But his friends pushed so hard that his horns almost disappeared. The poor antelope then remembered when it was too late that he needed his horns to defend himself. The children and I had been totally absorbed watching and listening to the goldweights. There was a grating sound outside the Treasury door, which caused us all to jump in fright. Three elderly men came into the room. Unauthorized people have been in this room. I can smell them, remarked one of them. Call the palace guard and raise the alarm. The intruders must be found at all cost. You can imagine how terrified we all were. Back to the Time Ship immediately, keep together! I shouted. We ran in spirit and soon found ourselves back in the Sacred Grove where the Timeship was waiting for us. We scrambled aboard and took off into our own century. It had been an exciting trip and despite our abrupt departure we had learned a great deal about the gold trade though not quite in the way I had envisioned!