The thing that I love the most about Uncle Prince is his honoring of traditions. He speaks so eloquently, as if he is reciting poetry. In Ghana, one of the highest stations in a community is that of a teacher, so his words really touched my heart.
"We want to welcome you to our humble family. We don't have much but we will exert every effort to make you comfortable so that you can enjoy your stay with us, while you honor our home with your presence here as a teacher of the blessed Baha'i Faith."
I had done my homework before I left the U.S. Uncle Prince Abaidoo has an incredible history with building the Baha'i community in Ghana. I was the one who was honored.
The Baha'i communities have an elected body that I previously described called the National Spiritual Assembly, but there is also an appointed body that serves to help both the expansion of the Baha'i community and education of its believers. We call this the Continental Board of Counselors and their support network called the Auxiliary Board - one board to assist with promulgation and one to assist with education and protection.
Currently there are 14 Auxiliary Board Members to cover all 10 regional states in Ghana. Uncle Prince discovered the Baha'i Faith in 1969 through an old friend Ernest Bentil. The community was so young that he was soon elected to serve on the National Spiritual Assembly and then was appointed to serve as the Auxiliary Board Member for both promulgation and protection for the entire country of Ghana. He bought a motorcycle and rode it all over Ghana to visit the Baha'is.
One of the unique, if not revolutionary, tenants of the Baha'i Faith is that we respect and uphold each of our cultures as being something sacred and to be honored. This is contrary to most experiences with religion, whereby practitioners are expected to lose their cultures, traditional ways and even ways of dressing in order to become a practitioner. Historically African cultures were coerced through either fear, intimidation or even through tactics such education for children - provided that the child's family gave up its own identity to practice the imposing religious dogma.
Baha'is do not proselytize, nor do we accept money from people who are not Baha'is. It is the responsibility of each of us to let people know through discourse and the sharing of ideas what we believe in. There is no monetary compensation. We do this out of love for mankind.
Cultures in Ghana are not relaxed and informal like here in the U.S. I remember in 1982, Auntie Bea assigned me to be responsible for a road outside of Kumasi that had five villages in a row, all with young Baha'i communities. Each Saturday or Sunday I would take a Tro-Tro and visit each of the villages, serving as a resource for these Baha'is so that they could learn more about their new faith.
In order to take on this responsibility, I had to learn the Asante culture. Nana was the one who taught me how to enter a village and appropriately seek permission to be a visitor in the community. He taught me to first approach the chief's house and inquire if I could speak with the chief. I did not move from the path until I was invited into the chief's compound. The chief would then send out his linguist to the courtyard where I would be seated.
A linguist is the spokesperson for the chief. It is considered beneath the chief's royal stature to speak directly to his subjects or to strangers who do not come from royalty. The role of the linguist is to speak on behalf of the chief with his authority. What is fascinating is that the linguists come from familial lineage to fill this role in the community. From a young age, boys are selected from within the family of a linguist to be trained in the eloquence of the language. They speak perfect Twi. The Akans admire the spoken word, story-telling and the gift of speech.
The linguist would ask me my purpose for being there after he shook hands with me. I was then welcomed by the linguist who would then disappear. Soon after, a group of 25 to 50 elders of the village would gather, each bringing a chair and sitting in a circle in the chief's courtyard. I would then restate my purpose for my visit, and the linguist would pour libation on the ground, an offering of water to the spirit of Asaase Afua, Mother Earth, and to invite the Nananom Nsamanfo, the Ancestors who are the souls of those who have passed on to the next world and watch out for us. The Ancestors' presence was to officiate my meeting.
The last step was for me to stand up and one by one, shake hands with each person sitting in the circle. When finished, I would then shake hands with each person again in the opposite direction as each would welcome me with akwaaba, as this would signify the village welcoming me into the community.
If someone went into a setting like this not knowing the nuanced customs, the potential to insult the chief and the elders was likely, to the point that one would never be welcomed again. Just among the Akan people, there were so many other customs to know as well. Never shake hands, reach for food or hand money to someone using your left hand. It is considered insulting and unclean. Always address an older person as Wofa or Sewaa - Uncle or Auntie - and never by their first name alone because this is incredibly disrespectful. When invited to a meal, eat everything you are offered, because if you don't - you insult the cook. Greet anyone who passes you on the street, and be kind and welcoming to strangers who stop to greet you and welcome you to Ghana. When greeting a friend, always inquire about the health of their family and their children before discussing anything else. If anyone knocks on the door, invite them in and have them sit down. Offer a glass of water and welcome them to the home. Then inquire about the reason for their visit.
Imagine the task Uncle Prince faced, knowing that in order to be able to reach out and share this message with strangers, and in order to help deepen new Baha'is throughout the country he'd need to learn the other Akan cultures beside his own Fante culture, as well as the Ewe culture in the southeast part of Ghana, and tens of cultures in the north of Ghana like the Hausa, Dagomba, Kusase and many others. This is no easy task, but vital in order to be able to visit a village and share this message with people. Not only did he learn, he mastered the cultures. I can sit for hours and listen to Uncle Prince tell me stories of all the places he visited on his motorcycle. His life inspires me to learn more and to better understand the people of this country.
I remember once being in a village with a Baha'i friend named Kwame Sarpong. He also studied engineering at KNUST with us. Kwame was kind and quiet, and had such a peaceful soul. We had gone to visit some of the Baha'i friends in a remote village outside of Kumasi heading north. Since the trip was long, we knew we would stay the night and come back the next evening. When we got there, we were given a room in one of the mud huts, with a dirt floor and a bed. We had an oil lamp to light the room.
There was a knock on the door, and the wife of our host and her mother came in, crouching down carrying pots of food for us. The custom is that out of respect for a visitor, it is impolite to enter a room with your head being higher than that of the guest. For the most part, the villagers are farmers who work long hours doing strenuous work to maintain their crops, so they eat big meals. That night we had nkontumrie - cocoa yam leaves like collard greens with fish, bayere - white yams like potatoes, and kokoo - boiled ripe plantain. And you eat with your fingers, which helps make it taste so good. The food in Ghana is soul food and I cannot fully describe my connection to it. They love pepper with food, and the cooking reminds me of that feeling of being at my grandma's on Sunday afternoons - food made with love and soul. It's not surprising that southern cooking in the U.S. is so similar to Ghanaian food. Women torn away from their families, sold into slavery and stripped of their cultures and histories were forced to cook for the families that enslaved them. They drew on what little they had left from their past in order to survive.
That night so as to not insult our hosts, Kwame and I ate every bite and there was enough food for 4 people. We laid awake in that room, rubbing our bellies and praying for relief. But it was sweet pain. There's nothing better than a full stomach.
Each night at Uncle Prince's house after dinner, we sit under his mango tree where the breeze comes through or in the courtyard until very late at night, just talking. He loves to hear stories about my hometown San Diego. In turn, he tells me stories of the history of Ghana and how he became a Baha'i when you could count the number of Baha'is on one hand.
He rode that motorcycle all over Ghana. He's told me many stories of being away from home for weeks at a time as he visited, encouraged and educated the Baha'is throughout the country. Riding his motorcycle while getting beaten by the rain, on treacherous dirt roads filled with pot holes and mud in the rain forest in order to get to fledgling Baha'i communities in Techiman, Sunyani and Wenchi. Following the custom in the north of Ghana, sleeping on the roofs of houses to get away from the heat, while visiting the Baha'is in Tamale, Bolgatanga and Bawku. Taking the dangerous water Tro-Tro ferries across the Volta Lake to visit the friends in Kpando, Biakpa and Ho in the Ewe land of eastern Ghana.
Uncle Prince is a treasure to the Baha'is of Ghana, and he is history. He has lived through some of the roughest times, and the good times too. He never stops thinking about the future of mankind, and what we Baha'is have committed to do - to establish peace on this earth and to stop the suffering of mankind by building a new world. Uncle Prince was there when there were so few Baha'is. And now he is living in a Ghana where the children of the youth I went to the university with are now adults, sending their children to Baha'i children's classes. Uncle Prince is a legacy and he endures.
And what I cherish the most about him is that he is also my father.
A few days before that first trip ended and I had to fly back to the U.S., Uncle Prince sat me down and said to me, "Yaw - you are not like any other American visitor we have had come to stay with us. You speak our language. You know our culture. You don't require so much attention. You are so comfortable here and you ask for nothing. Auntie Aggie says she does not have to fuss over you about food - she says you eat everything she makes and you enjoy it." I smiled. It made my heart feel good to hear this. And then he said this, and I will never forget it. "Yaw, I think God made a small mistake and you were born in the wrong place. But isn't it wonderful that He has helped you find your way home to us? You are my son. Yes, you are my son. I pray that you will come back. And every time you come, it will not be to visit, it will be to come home. You will always have a home here with us."
And that's how the second part of my life started. And if you think it cannot possibly get better than this, it does.
