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!”

Where Do You People-Watch?

I do my people-watching at Zenith Bank. It’s where the career women ‘strobe’ in, in their clean-line, sexy-swaying corporate skirt suits and lovely black shoes.

I do my people watching at Frankies at Osu. From the unbridled upstairs window, I survey-sweep the street below for colours of clothes, samples of couples, slices of cleavage, and cold cuts of derrieres. Or I can browse my google gaze indoors if I chose my seating right, to face and surf the incoming swing doors.

I do my people-watching at Erata Hotel’s cool pool at East Legon. Here, minimal clothes do not bring the colour rising to the flirty face. The water lies naked in ripples, reflecting one hundred exciting excuses.

Nigerian Women – A Different Breed?

Today, I tried to catch a quick swim before Ghana’s failed football final, but changed my mind at the poolside, for the water showed slightly green. Before I turned around, I ‘glamoured’ this group of 5 or 6 Nigerian girls gaily splashing about. They cat-pawed observers like me with their clothes-off body-confidence, easygoing splendour of fun, and the lingering look they lavish you with when something about you interests them. All this, and they were not even lovelier than the local competition... didn’t need to be.

10-Second History of Ghanaian Corruption

Just observing a trend, under military governments, soldiers have become rich. Under democracy, the wealth has gone to civilians. Corruption is always a coincidence...

Bookshop Brute

I observed an Asian Aunty and her attendant, a Ghanaian guard/greyhound. She was looking for receipt books. She stood stone-like at one cool spot and sent him countless times to sundry shelves. Every time he returned, she would yell that he'd made a gaffe, and slap the books out of his hands onto the floor. I am wondering what was making her do that.

Dodo Driving in the city of Accra

Necrophiliac Neanderthal, you stopped dead in front of me, in the middle of the street for a fate-flogged farm girl to ‘frog’ into your car. When you looked down, as I drove past, were you more ashamed of the wench or your dodo driving?

Rat Race v Human Race

Question:
What's the difference between a Rat Race and the Human Race?

Answer:
A Rat Race is run by humans, not rats; the Human Race has some 'rats' in it, but no running at all.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Adultery

Why doesn’t “Adultery” mean doing the things that adults do, like lying habitually, or having sex, or having sex with other people’s people, or treating children like they’re small? Anything that adults typically do...

Can Cantata Get Any Tarter?

I accept that we mustn’t criticise creativity too cruelly or we could crush and cremate it. But, please, would some maundering meddler kindly clarify how “Cantata” crept onto national TV in the first place?

A Big-Bad-Wolf in Every Office?

Does every job-hunting girl, in this bitty city, have to fob off randy Big-Bad-Wolves, if she's remotely pretty? Pity! So if there's a 3-man interview committee, won't she get through if she's witty? Does she still need to give all 3 the 'kitty'?

Get Your Hand Out of My Face

In a public building’s restroom, I asked an egressing (and regressive) man, “Don’t you want to wash your hands?” Knowing, as I do, that so many people have tacky toilet habits, and seeing, as we do, that handshaking is just like that in glorious Ghanaian culture, I find myself thinking in 2 out of every 3 greeting situations: Get your hand out of my face. Throw in the predilection for public nose-picking, and the panic becomes: Get your effing hand out of my face!

Lifted by a Dress

Accra, 6.30 a.m. In the thwarting traffic, I wolfed a woman in a dapper dress. Oh, it was russet and sienna and Sea Island cotton ... and more hues of brown and red. It choc’d her brown skin in a warmer glow, and rolled her dynamo hips under its windswept flow. The simplicity and style took me whole, and helium’d my spirits for the rest of the morning.

No Rules, Just Food

Life is claustrophobic enough, as it is, without mentally growing grey about BMI, and cholesterol (which, like angels, comes in good and evil variants) and bland balanced diets. We should simply eat and drink some (but not Nero’s portions) of everything.

Ghanaian Culture & Freeloading

You can have whatever you like
Food, a phone, shoes or a bike
Half of us are freeloaders
If cultural, it's so odious


*Inspired when thinking about all those people in Ghana who would like others to do free professional work for them because of some arcane relationship or acquaintance.

Are You Good-Looking?

What a “stupe-thick” question to ask. Why would anybody answer no? A Ghanaian media company is advertising a job, and that is the opening line: Are You Good-Looking? Even for a TV job, that is a doltish first line. To use an ancient “Ghanaianism”, SWINE!

Breach of Promise to Marry

Imagine you spend some telling time, mad money and expensive emotions on your postcard-perfect partner’s promise to marry you, and, then, they rudely run off with some wicked wretch who also lives on your street. If you knew you could take them to court for bucks and boodle, would you do it?