They say kings and queens ‘Don’t Die’ they travel –that’s a belief shared by Akans in Ghana.
Where do they go then? Gordon Offin –Amaniampong examines
My first visit to the Manhyia Palace (the official seat of Asantehene) in 1983 never was. I felt disappointed. Bolga Naba III Martin Adongo Abilba, who ruled from the 14th of July 1972 to October 2013, had visited our residence at Patase estate a suburb of Kumasi in the Ashanti region. The Bolga King (in the Upper East Region) was visiting his friend the Asantehene— Otumfuo Opoku Ware II.
And when he dropped the news that he planned to go there (Manhyia Palace) with us I was so thrilled.
I was so filled with joy. I waited and kept waiting till I felt I’d been waiting in vain. I don’t really know what happened, but hours later my aunt Theresa Essel (now deceased) told me the visit had become abortive.
Evidently, I wasn’t happy at all. It meant I’d nothing to brag about…. I had planned to tell my friends when school reopened—about how Manhyia looked like, about how majestic the king looked when he pulled on his traditional Kente cloth—names like ‘Adinkra’, ‘Dwenasa, ‘Apremo’, ‘Nsoroma’, ‘Babadua’ etc. had occupied my whole mind.
I’d planned to tell them about the beautiful relics I saw, the handshakes and the broad smiles I received from the king, the queen and the elders. I’d also planned to tell them about the executioners (Adumfuo), the courtiers, and the trumpeters, the drummers— about the different colourful umbrellas I saw—big and small, bowl-shaped and curved in. That I saw a gigantic Fontonfrom drum that measured six feet high and about 100 widths in diameter.
Remember where there’s will there’s way. Going to the Manhyia Palace this time was more than easy. I made a whistle stop in Accra. I surprised my good friend Kwamina Miaful Dadzie when I showed up at his door. Perplexed, he asked me: How did you make it here Katakyie?
I flew on the broad wings of the Eagle, I told him.
There was no protocol.to be observed. No hustles and no sweats. The Manhyia Gate was wide opened for my arrival. They knew I was coming. The walls had informed them that Nana Akwasi Atokora Adwokwaa Offin-Amaniampong was coming to pay the Queen Mother (Asantehemaa) his last respect. To say fare thee well ‘Abrewa’. To tell her we still love her and she will forever be loved. To say goodbye good old Grandma and to tell her she’ll be immortalised.
Kumasi is still mourning. Asanteman is grieving. All the women I saw had dyed their hairs—symbol for grief, pain and sorrow. Krobea Asante Kotoko Asantehene– Otumfuo Osei Tutu II wasn’t in his beautiful regalia. Yes, it’s time to either go red or go black. That’s the dress code (Kobene ne Birisie). He was flanked by a high-powered array of paramount as well as divisional chiefs across the empire.
The Batamhene, Baffour Owusu Amankwatia VI and Asafohene Acheamfuo Kwame Akowua, Nkonson and Kutimso divisions were all in attendance.
The inner circle of the dais stood the ceremonial macebearers who flaunted the high ornamental staff of metals before Otumfuo as retinue of linguists gathered themselves at the fringes. The trumpeters horned like peacocks. On the far right side to the king was a motionless lanky middle aged-man, whitewashed from head to toe. I asked the king: Who’s this man?
“That’s Komfo Aku the chief fetish priest,” he told me.
He was clutched to his magic want (bodua). His whole frame was festooned with mystical trappings, charms and amulets. And who else did I see– the fearsome Adumhene Kwaku Mensah (aka Diawuo). Back in the day if you lived in Dunkwa-on-Offin or Kumasi, the sounds of ‘Mmentia’– trumpets made you cringe. I dreaded that name, so much as a kid no wonder I saw him here.
Eerie memory isn’t it?
The paradox is that he trembled when he saw me this time (‘Man pass man’). I’ve got more powers than him. In the writer’s creative mind everything is possible. I can go to hell taunt Lucifer and come back unscathed. I can dine and wine with King Jesus. I can create my own characters; raise an army of lions to devour him (Diawuo) instantly. I can fly high to the sky and dive deep to the depth of the mighty ocean all in a matter of sec.
Anyway, Kwaku Mensah had the eyes of hyena tattooed on his forehead. And his torso bedecked with charms as well. The Adumhene also had a piece of traditional cloth called ‘danta’ which barely covered his manhood provoking many eyes at the Manhyia.
So where do they (kings and queens) go hereafter?
To understand this let’s peer back into the yester years—basically look at how the Akans and most ethnic groups in Ghana perceive life and death. In his book titled: ‘The Finish Line’ author Gordon Offin-Amaniampong wrote: “Life was simplified; it was glorified and was personified.
In mythology, life was portrayed as War, a Mirror, an Egg, a Shadow, etc.”
Through drama, poetry and storytelling, I learned that life is like a chameleon that changes time and again. It is like a giant species that sets out on an endless journey. It is like a rainbow, it shows up beautifully in the horizon but soon it disappears. And like a beautiful flower or a butterfly it fades away in a fleeting. It is depicted as a naked light in the stormy weather.”
The question is who can defy death or escape the yawning jaws of undying death (Bamua Wuo)?
Every king or queen travels to the village when s/he is invited by the Maker: The Man who sanctions life and death. Indeed, when breath flies away the body knoweth not where he goeth. It’s a trip often shrouded in secrecy. Their passing is veiled. And the public only gets to know about such transitions sometimes weeks or months some may even morph into years.
On Monday November 14, 2016, the womb that bore the sixteenth occupant of the Asante Golden Stool trudged this mystery path. Asantehemaa Nana Afia Kobi Serwaa Ampem II made her final journey to the village. She was as old as a shock of corn—racking up 109 years.
According to local media reports Otumfuo Osei Tutu II the Asantehene broke the sad news to the Kumasi Traditional Council (KTC) at a meeting. Thereafter Manhyia issued a statement confirming that ‘she passed away peacefully at her palace on Monday 14th November, 2016.”
The statement also paid a glowing tribute to the ‘Obaahemaa’ saying: “She has been a pillar of strength and source of wisdom behind the transformational reign of his Majesty Otumfuo Osei Tutu II, Asantehene.”
Nana Afia Kobi Serwaa Ampem who reigned as Asantehemaa for 39 years was enstooled in 1977 as the 13th queen mother of the Asante kingdom (which dates back in 1695) after the late Nana Ama Serwaa Nyarko II who reigned from 1945 to 1977.
“Time isn’t precious at all, because it is an illusion. What you perceive as precious is not time but the one point that is out of time: the Now. That is precious indeed. The more you are focused on time—past and future—the more you miss the Now, the most precious thing there is”—-Eckhart Tolle
Truth is we all pursue time. We focus on the past years and we also look beyond. No doubt this generation pursues time like a tsetse fly chasing a tortoise or a turtle.
But I trust the good old Grandma chose the best time. Obaahemaa will have great time with her Maker. And she’ll also spend good time together with her brothers, sisters and the forebears in the ancestral world.. It’s a world many dread but it’s a world one can’t pass it on or pass it over. You’ve got to taste it anyhow.
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