I read a tweet the other day which was something along the lines of “Let the pooh (a more expressive term was used) from last year be the fertilizer for this years growth. I don’t think I can say any more than that, so here’s to your 2013, let it be all you let it be!
Between the middle of August till the early December, I was fortunate enough to travel through Europe back to South Africa and then to Ghana and also to the Republic of Cape Town. Whilst on these travels my mind started to wander, as it always does, I looked at the efficiency of Europe, the public transportation system, for example, that works like clockwork, you walk in the streets of SW London and you just smell capitalism at its best, its no wonder that that little mud island managed to conquer large parts of this world and have most of us speaking its language as our official languages. It got me thinking, thinking about the lovely continent from which I hail. We are all too quick to say as Africans we just cant get things right. Perhaps, but that’s if you are comparing us to the western world which clearly isn’t a natural way of life for us right?! It’s a ‘norm’ that we are all being forced into in the name of progression and civilization. I am no historian, just merely passing an observation.
So why do I say this? If you look at the world most countries and continents were colonized by the Western world in their thirst to explore, amass wealth, build industry etc. If you look at Africans, we merely wandered our continent in search of food and land for our extended families and communities, because that’s our DNA. I think I may have mentioned it in an earlier email, but my old man left us in Ghana in early 1982 we couldn’t go with him because my ma was pregnant with the youngest, but in the year or so that he was gone, it may have been tough for ma, but I didn’t really see it, because their friends, neighbours, family members were more than willing to assist. I remember many an aunt coming over to help ma with us and bringing over food etc. It was incredible because that’s the natural way of Africans, well most. Growing up in Ghana and Umtata, I knew all my neighbours on the street, not just the ones with whom we shared a wall. Now its all me, me, me, more, more, more, but I will hopefully write more about this another time when I have done more research.
I want to elaborate on this beautiful African spirit in this blog. So the day I returned from my lovely European tour, I heard of my Gran’s passing. We attended the funeral a good few weeks later (this is normal in the Ashanti tradition). It was my very first proper Ashanti funeral in Ghana, and how apt for it to be the lady because of whom I breathe J. Even though it was a rather sad occasion, it was a fantastic experience because I learnt quite a bit about my people and extended family. And also reminded me that Africans just have too much time on our hands, which also speaks to my earlier observation.
So my moms, pops, sisters and I arrived in Ghana on Tuesday, went to greet some family members. On Wednesday the funeral activities began, we went to the family home where we greeted all the elders, always greet from right to left or anti-clockwise…and we just sat for a good few hours, I guess it’s a time for the old folk to engage, catch up shoot the breeze etc. Later that evening, my gran’s body was to be brought to the house, prepared for burial and laid in state.
Ashanti’s hold our ancestors and the dearly departed in high regard, so prior to burial a body is well ‘prepared’ for passage into the afterlife. My grandpops, whose duty it would have been to have purchased all the provisions necessary for this preparation passed away way before I was even a thought and at her death my gran was unmarried, so my dad’s family took the mantle and ran with it, once again part of the way Africans roll. These items are more symbolic than anything. So let me share with you what is buried with the departed and why, lets bear in mind this is seen as her last sleep before she is united with those that went before her and her maker and she must look her best.
First off there is some palm kernel which she is supposed to chew and the material that is produced is used to prepare her hands and feet, the old school manicure and pedicure. A blade provided which is used to clean and trim the nails. Some lime is provided which in the old days was cut in half and used under the arms to eliminate odours. There after she is supposed to take her bucket, sponge, soap, towel, chewing stick (old school tooth brush) and lotion and go have a good washing. She then gets dressed with some beads around her waist, something called Amoase, which is a cloth that used to be worn as panties prior to panties being discovered (panties were also provided) a very stylish cloth which she is supposed to wear before she lays to rest on her kete (mat) with a pillow and blanket.
The next day Thursday was supposed to be the burial day. We all wore dark and brown and black cloth. We were told to be at the family home at 6.30am, we got there, said our goodbyes to Nana Mary, thanks was given, tears were shed. Me being me, I expected something to happen, but nope, once again we just sat people played drums and sang (quite badly if I have to be honest) but it was an experience that makes me smile even as I type this. At 12 there was a church service where after we made our way to my Nana’s village where she was to be buried in the royal cemetery (yes that’s right, I have royalty in my blood J). Ashanti’s follow a maternal line. This makes sense because even if the father of a child is questionable, the mother who bears it can never be questioned. We once again sat around my cousin, the Chief’s house for a few hours because there is a certain time of day where members of the royal family are to be buried. People were fed and drinks provided during this time. In the early evening her body was laid to rest. Rest in perfect peace dear woman!
Friday was a day off and on Saturday was the funeral. Once again early morning, dressed in red attire, which was to symbolize the fact that we were serious, (her children’s had red face paint on their bodies and faces) off to a park across from the family home where a marquee was set up, we went. Ghanaians are such generous people, I am sure many people have similar traditions, but I now understand why insurance (life insurance in particular) isn’t such a big game in Ghana, because people self insure. My uncle and aunts spend so much time going to funerals, I now know why. During the funeral, people sang, told Nana Mary’s life story, and much money was donated by those that attended to help the family with the costs of the funeral. When a donation is made, the person who made it, his connection to the family and amount is announced Just thinking about it really makes my heart smile, is this not what it’s all really about? Looking after the elderly, the young and your fellow man? Anyway, we spent plenty time there, just sitting watching the chief, my mom (bad back and all), her siblings and the family elders performing this traditional dance called Adowa.
Sunday was church day, we all dressed in white because we were giving thanks for Nana Mary being allowed the opportunity to give us 94 years of her life.
All 3 days were well attended and the westerner in me kept on wondering “don’t these people work”, why so much time to waste…some might see us as simple beings, but so rich with meaning is our heritage, but so proud to be of my people, just because inspite of the trappings of the world around, their essence is still humane, yes, I am Ashanti…raised in Xhosaland! J
Birthdays
1st Marc, Johnny
6th Ingrid, Darren
8th Sudika, TK
10th Brendan
11th Pops, PreshMak
Thanks for reading, and have a mighty fine week further
Best
Y
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