3 More Historical Tales – Ga, Nzema, Dagomba

Nii Bonne III – the Ga Gandhi

January 1948. The Gold Coast is still a British Colony. In protest against racial discrimination, Nii Kwabena Bonne III organises a boycott of European goods. The boycotts spread across the nation. Riots follow. 1 month later, a deranged British policeman shoots three local WWII veterans, and kills them. European and Asian shops are looted. The rioters break into the central prison and release inmates (The Bastille, huh?) The “Big Six” nationalist leaders are imprisoned. In less than a decade, Ghana will emerge independent.

Anton Wilhelm Amo – 18th Centry Nzema Philosopher

Nzema land, the year 1707. A 4 year-old Nzema boy is shipped off to Amsterdam. Some accounts say he was a slave; others say he merely accompanied a missionary! Some say the Dutch wanted a native who could speak both “Native” and “Dutch” to facilitate trade. The boy is presented to a Dutch Duke who educates him. He masters English, French, Dutch, German, Latin and Greek. He obtains a degree by studying law, medicine, metaphysics, logic, physiology, history, astronomy...need I go on? He obtains a doctorate in philosophy and lectures at University of Halle. His “father”, the Duke, dies, and he is subjected to extreme racism. He is forced to go back to Africa – Ghana, where his Nzema father and sister (who he does not know) are still alive. Being “Dutch” he is prevented from “mixing” with the natives for fear that he may sow dissent. Therefore he is kept in a Dutch fort. He disappears from the eyes of history, and probably dies, aged 56, in 1759!

Tohadzie – the Red Hunter

A master of archery travels from Zamfara (present-day Northern Nigeria) to the Mali Empire. He settles in a small town which is dying from drought. Their only water source has been taken over by a wild beast. Tohadzie kills the beast and is a hero. He marries a Malian princess and they have a son, Kpogonumbo, who is the father of the great Dagomba people. Kpogonumbo grows up a great warrior, very much his father’s equal in exploits. He marries 2 women whose militant sons are always at war with one another. There is a migration from the initial family to Pusiga (present-day Upper East Ghana) and further downwards. More descendants break off to found the great kingdoms of Modern Dagbon, Mamprusi and Moshi.

Optical Illusion?

At 7 p.m. on a sweet-sky Saturday, a favoured sixth former will be spicing up for Entertainment Night. So was I, in the shower, many years ago, when a silent aircraft with 2 great headlights halted at a half-angle over the bathhouse. It froze unnervingly for 3 odd minutes, and then it bleeped off at a slow speed.

What unusual or illusory experiences have you had in your time?

3 Interesting Historical Tales - Fante, Asante, Ewe

Oburumankoma, Odapagyan and Oson

3 great warriors who split from the wider Akan group at Krako (modern-day Techiman in the middle of Ghana). Their names meant “The Whale”, “The Eagle” and “The Elephant”. Oburumankoma and Odapagyan did not survive the difficult journey, but Oson did (almost Romulus and Remus, huh?). Oson led the Fante southwards towards the coast and conquered the original inhabitants of Adoakyir who they called “Etsi fui fo” (the bushy-haired people). The Fante renamed Adoakyir “Oman Kesemu” (the Great State), which is now known as Mankessim.

Osei Tutu Kwame Asibe Bonsu – The Hostage-King

During the scramble in pre-colonial Ghana for gold-rich land, the Denkyira people dominated other groups. The Oyoko clan became refugees in the town of Kumase, which became a vassal of the Dekyira King. The Denkyira King, Nana Boa Amponsem, requested for a young, male Kumase royal to serve at his court, and the Kumase Chief sent his nephew Osei Tutu Kwame Asibe Bonsu. Osei Tutu rose to become a great General in the Denkyira army who won many battles. Circumstances compelled him to flee back to Kumase (accompanied by 300 elite warriors given him by Nana Ansah Sasraku, the Akwamu King). When the Kumase Chief died, Osei Tutu became chief (the biblical Joseph, huh?) He founded the Great Asante Kingdom with the help of his friend, the Chief Fetish Priest Okomfo Anokye. The Asante Kingdom (at its peak of power) covered to an area bigger than present-day Ghana.

Hogbetsotso Za – The Great Escape

King Agorkorli of the clay-walled city of Notsie (in present-day Togo) was one very cruel king to his own subjects. He would, for example, order broken bottles to put in the clay used for buildings, and force subjects to knead it. To escape, the subjects (engineered by the women) used laundry and dish-washing water to soften a section of the city wall, until it collapsed (Berlin, huh?). Then, they escaped at night by walking backwards out of the city. Seen from afar, the escapees appeared to be entering rather than leaving the city. The last to escape, scattered millet grain on the ground, and when the birds came to peck, they erased the footprints too, throwing the King’s trackers off-course. Totally brilliant! To celebrate the Great Escape, the descendants of the escapees – the Ewe people – have the Hogbetsotso Za Festival.

Books Never Finished

Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte; that’s one book I never finished no matter how many times I tried.

I found it flatly boring, even in its landscapes and portraits of physical and mental cruelty. I now know that the unquiet passion of Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw sees no dream ending, but I’ll never know firsthand.

Which book did you never finish?

8 Childhood Games I Played

The list is long, including the discredited "Mummy-and-Daddy" which I deny ever playing. Well, maybe I once pretended to be the baby for obvious reasons. Lol. Here's my list. Can you add to it?

Police-and-Thieves (not Robbers)
I liked this game especially for the part where your friend (a policeman) would shoot you (the thief) and you would defiantly refuse to die. It was so painful to the policeman.

Hide-and-Seek
I like this game because of the call to the seekers to come looking for you: Pampanaaaaa!

Chaskele
I loved this game for the sheer opportunity to be cruel. Crudely based on baseball, players would be divided into throwers and hitters. Throwers had to throw an empty tin into a disused car tyre, while hitters tried to bat it as far away as possible. They could literally "send" you to the next street or the next neighbourhood.

Piilolo
We would hide something in an obscure place and scour the grounds looking for it. We would shout "piilolo" when we found it. But there was a lot of bonding opportunity for boys and girls in between.

Kyem Pe
"Divide it equally". A game played over the whole term. Players would shout "kyem pe" upon chancing on another player holding/eating/carrying food. And you had to divide it equally. A more radical version was "Gbo ni ma wo" (literally "Die and let me take it"). In this case, the owner of the food had to leave it all to the other person.

Sete(waa)
This game turned every day into All/April Fools Day.

I Drop It
Players would squat in a circle and one of them would run round them, while they sang. The runner would secretly drop an item in their hand behind one squatter, who had to detect it and continue the run before the original runner back or risk a painful slap on the back. The song was "I drop it, I drop it" sang repeatedly. As kids, we would say "Law Peter" repeatedly. I love to think back to it.

Rock, Paper, Scissors
Well, this is universal enough, but we played it with the "exotic effect" after Aunt Junko Izumiyama, of obvious nationality, taught us the words Gu (rock), Chock (scissors) and Par (paper) ostensibly in Japanese.

Pray Your Own Way Home

I thought I would be too afraid to say this outside my mind, but whenever I drive past the “Action Chapel” on the Spintex Road, whether at 10 a.m. or 10 p.m., I suffer those women who spend endless time praying there like they have no jobs or families to look after. I roundly resolve NEVER to stop and give the free ride they’re always asking for.

P.S. My 500th blog post. Just thought you may be happy to share this with me. Thank you, dear reader.

Are You Here?

A ‘Ghanaianism’ for “do you live/work here?” So, a young man in originally black or brown (can’t tell which) jeans walked up to me at Zenith Bank to ask. Maybe it was my ‘bankeresque’ snazzy suit. I aimed at him with my purest poker face, and then sneered, “If you can see me standing here, then I must be here!”