The Baha'i community throughout the world sees that there are two dynamics happening in the world. One is the disintegration of the old order of the world, whereby nationalism, religious prejudice, racial prejudice, gender persecution and rampant materialism are destroying the fabric of society all over the earth.
The other dynamic happening in the world is the building of a new order based on a global awareness, where all prejudices are destroyed through education and a commitment to humanity, where the differences among cultures are appreciated and cherished, and where the consciousness of mankind is shifting to a concern for the community rather than the individual self.
Something the Baha'i communities throughout the world have done is to work at the grass roots level to create awareness about community service and a commitment to local neighborhoods. One project is to gather young people - junior youth between the ages of about 11 to 15 - to start their own neighborhood group which they run with the guidance of older people, but the junior youth "own" their group and make decisions about what they would like to do which includes service projects in their communities. These groups are strictly non-denominational and are service-based rather than religious-based. All children, regardless of background, are welcome to join and take part in the group.
Accomplishments include projects such as cleaning up trash on the sidewalks of their neighborhoods, planting trees and beautification of villages, providing assistance with school homework and mentoring children after school, public art projects for youth to express their feelings about their lives in their communities and hospital visits to the sick and elderly who may not have family, among many others.
The amazing aspect that these groups provide to youth is a shift in perspective. Kids are finding interests in life that are bigger than themselves. I hear news of kids who have improved their grades and later go on to be admitted into good colleges to study medicine, education and public health.
My task in Brafoyaw that summer 3 years ago was to work with two young men named Alex Koufie and Sammy Arthur to try to build junior youth groups in Brafoyaw, Moree Junction and Moree. I also worked with Alex and Sammy to meet with young people in order to discuss and study topics about the soul, life after death and our purpose for being here. Knowing as much as I do about the Akan cultures, I couldn't wait to participate in this.
I was sitting in the courtyard after breakfast, and Alex walked through the courtyard door with his brother Sammy. My first impression was how serious Alex was. He shows up on time, and he is always prepared. Uncle Prince introduced us and Alex was so formal. "You are welcome," he said.
He was very quiet that day until lunch, when we had fufu. Fufu is the best food that has ever been created on earth. It's plantain and cassava pounded into a dough, and eaten with soup. It fills the soul and relaxes you. It is comfort that is indescribable. I love fufu. But I'm an anomaly in Ghana because almost all white people that I have come across refuse to eat it because of the texture. Forget them - fufu is wonderful! Alex's and Sammy's eyes were huge as they watched me eat my fufu. After that, I don't think five minutes ever went by that Alex, Sammy and I weren't laughing about something.
Sammy was in the middle of getting his welding shop set up, so some days he was there and other days he was not. Alex and I worked constantly though, every day from the early morning until late at night. We'd prepare our plans for the day and then go out into the village to speak with young people. With Alex, it was easy to make connections because Alex seems to know everyone. My first impression of Alex being so serious was so far off. Alex has the gift of conversation, he knows everyone and he has an innate ability to put anyone at ease. He is so well liked and respected by everyone in each of the villages. We'd be riding in taxis and Alex would be yelling hello out the window constantly, waving at this person or that person - all of them his friends. It got so funny that I nicknamed him Managing Director because it seemed as if he ran the villages.
Alex was raised in the customary way in which the whole extended family lives together to help with expenses and collectively raise the family's children. Alex told me there were 53 people who lived at his house. As an example of how this works, Sammy's mother is Uncle Alex's sister, so in our culture Sammy would call Uncle Alex his uncle. But in the Fante culture, Uncle Alex is also Sammy's father. Auntie Gladys, who is Uncle Alex's wife is not only Alex's biological mother but Sammy's mother as well.
What I find most impressive is how well behaved and respectful these children are, due to the constant and consistent discipline and love that they receive. They carry their weight in the family by doing chores and helping take care of the younger children. Alex, Sammy and their brother Ernest are often charged with making dinner once or twice a week to help out Auntie Gladys.
What I cherish most about this lifestyle is the sense of security that it brings. Auntie Bea once told me that a psychologist would go broke in Ghana because depression does not exist like it does in the U.S. There are always people around to keep you company and to share in carrying the weight of the burden of life along with you. It's clear in this photo how much love there is in this family. Affection in Ghana is like the air; it's everywhere and it's part of life.
Working such long hours together, Alex and I became very close. It was nice to be this uncle figure to him and to Sammy. Alex asked for my advice on anything from school, to his ideas for starting a business, and even girls.
One day at Alex's house, I asked him about what he is passionate about in life. What did he want to do for a living? He lit up with that amazing smile of his and took me out to his chicken hatchery. Alex raises chickens and guinea fowl, and he has a passion for agriculture.
Alex and Sammy had done the same thing I had done upon finishing secondary school, to give a year of service to the Baha'i community. They left home and lived in a remote village in the rain forest near Sunyani for a year to help the Baha'is there. At the end of his stay there, Alex brought back two guinea fowl chicks and raised them. Guinea fowl are beautiful. They have a smooth grey covering of feathers with a white head. They remind me of small peacocks.
Alex then took me to the side of his house where Uncle Alex had let him set up his own garden. He had aburo - maize, ntoosi - tomatoes, anamuna - watermelon, mako - pepper, adua - beans, bankye - cassava, borof3re - papaya and moringa tree seedlings. The moringa is an amazing tree that has medicinal powers, such as stewing the leaves into a tea to reduce fever and minimize the effects of malaria.
I was so impressed that this young man understood his calling in life at such an early age. He told me he had two passions in life, one was agriculture and the other was to become a teacher. Alex's connection with children is something that comes naturally to him. I watched him with the junior youth group he had set up in Moree Junction and then with another one in the town of Moree. He has an ability to inspire children to be better people.
One day Alex and I had gone into town so that I could buy a few pieces of traditional wax print cloth at a shop that has become one of my favorite places in Cape Coast. Wax print is an expression of culture through proverbs and symbols, and is used for women's traditional dresses with the apron and the kaba - bodice. Men also wear it in the traditional style of a toga over one shoulder. It's usually seen at church, and special occasions like weddings or funerals.
It was actually started by the Dutch in the 19th century as they were looking for inexpensive ways to mass produce batik cloth that uses wax and resist-dye patterns in the Dutch colony of Java. The cloth was a failure in Java but the bright colors and intricate patterns became popular in Ghana as the Dutch established trade with West African ports, selling the cloth. Soon Ghanaians adopted the technique and a cultural tradition started. The colors are beautiful, and each print tells a story. Currently covering my bed is a beautiful piece of green cloth with a pattern of sparrows flying across it. The proverb for this design is, "money flies from the hand like a bird." Black patterns or red patterns are only worn at funerals. A mother with a new born baby wears white with a light blue pattern to signify to the community that she is carrying a newborn. I have watched men get up from their seats on buses when a woman in this cloth gets on, and sure enough she is carrying a newborn on her back in the traditional way.
I love the cloth for many reasons. I was an Graphic Design and Art major in the university and I love graphics. I love to sleep under a piece in summer because it is light and comfortable when it's warm at night. I love it because it reminds me of Nana. He took great pleasure in showing me his own patterns he designed for school, and he always asked for my opinion and advice on how to improve his patterns.
After Alex and I got done at the shop, we walked back to the taxi station. While we were talking, I asked Alex about what his plans were now that he had finished secondary school and he had done his year of service for the Baha'is. He said excitedly, "Oh, Wofa Yaw! I want to go to agricultural college to study agriculture and education! But it all depends on my grades which I am sure I have done well, and it depends on money."
I don't know if Alex noticed how quiet I had become during the taxi ride. I knew that his father's finances were tight with raising five children. I asked Alex a few questions, trying to be as sly as possible about what the tuition would cost for the college he wants to study at. When he told me, I knew I had to do something. I had just received a raise at work and I could help. This young man's future was in reach and it could either become a reality or remain a dream forever.
The taxi dropped me first at the Brafoyaw junction, and I paid the fare so that Alex could continue down the road to his house. I walked alone up the path to the road and I prayed for guidance. I felt like my heart was going to explode. I had put myself through the university to get my Bachelor of Arts and later to get my Master's Degree, working nights and going to school during the day. In the U.S., I had the means to do this. Americans do not realize the opportunities that we have in this country. If you apply yourself, you can get an education. It's difficult, but it's possible. For so many families in Ghana, an education is nothing more than a dream because the financial means just doesn't exist.
I decided to talk to Uncle Prince. I told him I could help and I know a lot about the culture, but would it be proper for me to go speak to Uncle Alex? Would it be impolite for me to bring this up to him? Would I possibly insult him? Uncle Prince told me as he patted me on the shoulder to reassure me, "Yaw, this is a wise and blessed idea that you have. Please let me take care of this though. Don't worry, everything is going work out fine."
Several days later, Uncle Alex came to the house. I was reading in my room and Uncle Prince asked me to come, and to put on a nice shirt and some decent pants. I came out to the courtyard and I found that Uncle Prince had set up two chairs to face each other and he had a chair for himself to the side of both those chairs, I greeted Uncle Alex and Uncle Prince motioned to us to sit down and face each other, while he took the third chair in between us.
Uncle Prince took out his Baha'i prayer book and said a prayer for families. He gave a talk about the importance of family, and then he asked the Ancestors to be present at this meeting. That was when I knew what this was about - Alex's education. Uncle Prince asked each of us to introduce ourselves to each other formally, and to share a little about each of our families and histories. Uncle Prince then turned to me and asked me to speak about my purpose for calling this meeting. I told Uncle Alex that I had the ability to help with Alex's education and if he would accept my offer, we can send Alex to the college he has his hopes set on.
Uncle Alex pulled out his handkerchief, wiping his eyes and he told me that he has been laying awake at night, praying to God to find a way to send Alex to school or otherwise he would have to dash all of Alex's hopes. I could tell that the stress was almost unbearable for him because he just wanted what was best for his child. He said he had prayed for God to recognize that Alex is too fine of a young man for life to be unkind to him, and that now, finally, his prayers had been answered. Now I knew why I was supposed to come to Brafoyaw. I sat quietly, and just let Uncle Alex's tears come. Nothing else needed to be said. Uncle Prince smiled at me.
Uncle Alex asked me to make one promise. Until Alex got his official acceptance into the college, I was not to say a word to him about any of this. Uncle Alex was afraid that Alex may tell his friends in anticipation, and to save him any humiliation if he did not get accepted we could protect him by not letting him know our plans. That was one of the hardest secrets to keep during the last week of my trip!
About two or three months after I got back to Los Angeles, I was running errands during lunch and needed to stop at the Baha'i Center. I had driven into the parking lot and was just about to shut off my car when my cell phone rang. It was Alex, and I remember thinking how strange it was that he was calling me at this time. What we do is he calls and hangs up so that I can call back, so he doesn't have to pay the charges. I called back, and Alex was so quiet. He said hello, asked how all of my family was doing, and then said, "I know. I know everything." I smiled and replied, "What exactly do you know?" He was quiet and then finally said, "I have been accepted to the college and Uncle Alex let me know what you have done for me." Alex's voice began to crack and he started to cry, saying "Wofa Yaw, you don't know what this means to me. You have no idea what this means to me." I started to cry too, and I felt something inside that I can only describe as healing. I told Alex, "No matter what, I will always be here for you."
The next day, Uncle Prince called me and told me he needed to discuss something with me, and he wanted me to have an open mind. He said that in the Fante culture, the responsibility of the Ancestors is to watch over us and to keep balance in our lives. This is consistent with everything in the Akan perspective on life, where opposites keep everything in balance. They believe in the oneness of God, but they recognize that God has two sides, Nyame and Nyamewaa - the Great God Father and the Great Goddess Mother who together constitute the Supreme Being. Disease, sickness and misfortune come from an imbalance in one's life which may be caused by disobedience to God's laws and the laws of the community, or it can be caused by external forces such as juju - magic. Traditionally the Fetish Priest or Priestess would make a diagnosis and then communicate with the Ancestors to formulate a prescription to bring back balance in order to relieve suffering.
Uncle Prince said that the Ancestors will right a wrong that happened in our past by giving us the greatest gift in life, which is children. These children are specal - they are not born to us, but we recognize them as our children just the same. He said, "I have recognized you as such a son as my gift from the Ancestors, and for all that you have done for Alex and Sammy, the Ancestors have blessed you as well. I want you to see this. I want you to see that you are one of the Fante and that God and the Ancestors have blessed you with these two sons."
I was dumbfounded. I could have received this as a flattering gesture on his part, but it made sense. Looking at my past, this made complete sense to me. I went through everything in my past to find my truth, and now this was very real. I was accepted as one of the Fante, entrusted with its culture and history. These two boys were my gift from God and the Ancestors, and I would take on the responsibility of helping to be a father to them. I discussed this with Uncle Alex, and he agreed. He welcomed my help to guide and raise these two young men I had grown to love so much.
I have learned that the love of a father for his sons is like nothing I have ever experienced in my life. It has no ending. There is nothing conditional about it. It's like a deep well where the bottom cannot be reached. I would stand in front of a gun to protect them and sacrifice my life for them. I want their lives to be better and fuller than my own. I want only the best for them. This love has healed all of my hurt in my past, and I owe them for having provided that healing to me.
This experience has taught me what it really means to me to be a Baha'i. We believe in the oneness of mankind, and that everyone on this earth is part of the family of man. It's one thing to intellectually embrace the idea, but it is something else to experience it on such a personal level. Alex, Sammy and I speak on the phone once a week and at the end of every phone call we say, "Me do wo papaapa." This doesn't fully translate into English, but the closest it means is, "I love you very much." One day Alex asked me why I say it every time we speak, and I told him that until very recently I had only heard my own father tell me he loved me once in my life. I vowed that if I had children of my own, they would never stop hearing me tell them.
The night after Uncle Prince told me about my gifts from the Ancestors, I had a dream about Nana. It was one of those dreams that you wake up from and you cannot for the life of you figure out if it was real or not because it seems so real. In the dream, he and I were sitting on my sofa in my loft. Nana had one arm up on the back of the sofa and he had this huge grin on his face. He didn't say anything, he just laughed and smiled. I laughed too, and finally spoke up and asked, "Did you have anything to do with me finding my way home to Ghana? Did you make this trip happen?"
He laughed again and paused, and finally said, "... maybe!"
I'll tell Sammy's story next, but before that - one more about Nana and his visits.
