The head of the household and adult guests are given the greatest honor by being served alone at their own table, apart from the rest of the family members. In villages, the extended family lives together communally, which can include 50 or 60 people. So, one expression of respect is to provide a space for silence and peace while eating. Uncle Prince provides this to me as a gesture of his love for me as his son and as his guest.
Just as I was finishing my meal, I heard the footsteps of several people walking along the pathway to the courtyard door. In walked Uncle Alex Sr., Alex Jr. and Sammy. Usually the boys would arrive in the morning to pick me up to get to work on our efforts with the Baha'i communities in Brafoyaw, Yamoransa and Abakrampa, so I knew this visit was special because Uncle Alex Sr. had accompanied them.
"Yaw, I'd like to ask you to pay me a great honor and come to the wedding of my nephew Charles next Sunday," he asked me.
I replied, "Uncle Alex, I would be honored to accompany the family, but all I have with me is t-shirts, shorts and jeans. I didn't bring my suit."
Uncle Alex Sr. said in a very matter of fact way, "Yaw, you are family. You will attend and you will wear traditional cloth. The whole family is going and it won't be the same without you."
I was shocked. For an obruni to be asked to wear cloth is unheard of. Three years prior to this, Uncle Prince had told me I was accepted as a Fante, and now I was seeing exactly what he meant by that. I was one of the people and my family knew that I was comfortable in the culture. I was obviously anxious, but after some insistence from Uncle Alex Sr., I accepted. Alex Jr. and Sammy were ecstatic. Uncle Prince went to his room and came back with a beautiful piece of cloth. He couldn't attend the wedding because of a family commitment of his own, so he told me I will wear his cloth. He told me this is wedding cloth. It is woven like kente, but the colors were white, taupe, light green, light blue and gold threads throughout the weave. It was beautifully made by hand, and clearly a precious possession of Uncle Prince.
Sunday morning arrived, and I took my morning bath. In the village, bathing happens twice a day; once before going to bed and then first thing in the morning as we rise. A large bucket is filled with rain water and placed in the center of a tiled room that resembles a shower. A ladle is used to soak the body, and then a sponge of woven netting is used with soap to scrub the body. Some days it was cold in the morning, and Uncle Prince would get up early to heat water for me so that my bath was comfortable.
Alex Jr. and Sammy arrived early to help dress me. The boys brought a beautiful Ghanaian gold necklace for me to wear, since the custom among the Akan is to display gold whenever traditional cloth is worn. Alex also gave me my gift of my ahenema, which are traditional handmade sandals.
The boys explained that the cloth I was to wear was very indicative of tradition because it is mostly white and the other colors are muted, and the patterns of the proverbs are absent in the weave, just stripes. The reason for this is so that as a guest of the wedding, I wouldn't be a distraction from the beauty of the bride. Alex Jr. wore a piece of light blue and white cloth and Sammy wore a piece of green, brown and white cloth. The next step was to wrap my cloth. The boys told me to put on pair of khaki shorts. I ran into my room and changed, and came out into the courtyard. Araba, Paa Kwesi, Akukua, Uncle Prince and Auntie Aggie stood and watched as the boys went to work.
"Wofa, put your arms straight out like a cross," Sammy said.
Alex Jr. said, "Hold the cloth in each hand across your back, Wofa Yaw. That's it! Now watch as I hang the cloth over your left arm." I glanced over and caught Uncle Prince's eye. He was beaming.
Sammy took the cloth from my right hand and said, "Keep your arm up while I tuck the cloth under it. Now we throw the cloth across your chest and over your left shoulder, like this!"
The boys worked and fussed their way around me, throwing and folding the cloth laying on my outstretched left arm so that it stacked on top of my left shoulder.
Alex Jr. said, "Use your left hand to wrap and hold the cloth across your waist to hide your shorts."
The boys then helped me slip on my ahenema, explaining to me that I am only to wear them on special occasions when I have my cloth on.
Being dressed this way was so moving and so personal to me. It was one of the first times in my life that I felt like I belonged. It felt familiar, and at the same time it felt incredibly profound. This tradition had been observed for thousands of years and I was now experiencing it for myself, part of a rich and beautiful history and part of my family. Alex Jr. and Sammy stood back to take it all in, both of them smiling and telling me, "Wofa Yaw, wo ho yε fε papaapa!" "Uncle Yaw, you are very handsome!"
During the weeks leading up to this morning, beautiful ceremonial rites had been carried out between the families of Charles and his bride. These customs are so revered in the Akan cultures that even under the law, before a marriage can be registered, the couple must perform the rites.
Traditionally, the couple will meet during a period known as the "Kasasie", or the period of "The Speaking," getting to known each other and to establish the intention to marry. The man will then tell his mother, and the mother will speak with her son about the woman, her background and her family's background. The mother will then either attempt to discourage her son if she feels it is not a good match, or she will go to speak to his father on his behalf. If the father agrees, the family will then start a formal investigation of the woman's character and family to confirm the suitability of the couple.
Before a man can ask for a woman's hand in marriage, he has to be introduced to the woman's family formally as a gesture of his intention to establish courtship and marriage. This ceremony is called the "Kokoo ko" or "Aponoakyibo," or "The Knocking." The man traditionally stays home and prominent male members of his family, such as his father, uncle or grandfather go to the woman's house and present an offering of beverages to the woman's father, while stating their intention. A date is set between the parties following The Knocking when the man's family will return to inquire about the dowry, or "Bride Price." If the woman's father drinks one of the beverages offered, it is an acknowledgement that his daughter is now spoken for and the couple is recognized publicly as dating. Dating is not understood in the same manner that we would understand it. It means that the entire family is in the process of "dating" and getting acquainted, confirming that the couple are well suited for each other since marriage is not only between two individuals, but a joining of two entire families. During this time the woman's family will make serious inquiries about the man's family, including financial status, background in the community, their treatment of women and even inheritable diseases which may run in the family such as sickle cell anemia.
In the Baha'i Faith, we also believe that marriage is the joining of two families, and the groom and bride must receive the consent of their parents in order for the marriage to happen. It makes sense, since parents can assist in providing some objectivity and perspective from their experience.
If the woman's family is satisfied with the background, they then submit "The List" to the man's family, which are all the items that will be required to fulfill the dowry. If they are not satisfied, they will return the beverages and provide a suitable reason as to why the match is not possible. Customary items in The List include six full pieces of traditional wax print cloth, pots, pans, sheets, towels, blankets and most importantly the "Akonta Sikan" or "Brother-in-laws' Cutlass." Traditionally this would be a knife given to the brothers of the bride as a symbol of compensation for the loss of their sister. Common practice today is for the Akonta Sikan to be given in the form of monetary compensation.
Now, this is where it gets fun. The morning of the wedding, the whole family of the groom brings the items fulfilling The List to the door of the bride's family's house. There is an "Okyeame" or spokesperson for each of the families. The groom's Okyeame will speak eloquently of each of the items, saying things like, "This kente cloth is not just any kente cloth, we walked all the way to Bonwire which is the birthplace of kente. It was woven by the royal weaver to the Asantehene, the King, and the patterns tell proverbs that reflect the beauty and humility of the bride!" In turn, the bride's Okyeame, often her elder sister, will dismiss the offering by replying, "This cloth is is not made well at all, and its thread is of poor quality! Are you stating that the bride is of poor quality? You must leave at once!" This friendly banter is carried out with great humor, and is also a distraction so that the bride's family can sneak the bride's wedding party to the place of the ceremony. After a while, the banter stops and the bride's Okyeame gives up, allowing the groom and his party to enter the house and then continue on to the venue of the wedding.
Charles' wedding ceremony was held at a Catholic church in the center of Cape Coast, with a formal Mass prior to the ceremony. Uncle Alex Sr. drove us all that morning. We were all dressed in traditional cloth except for Alex Jr.'s younger brother Ernest-Cobbah who wore western clothing, as is the custom with younger people. Auntie Gladys, Alex Jr.'s mother, was dressed beautifully in her kabbah, skirt and apron.
After the couple exchanged their vows and rings at the end of the Mass, suddenly the 5 rows in the front of the church stood up. They were dressed in the same pattern of wax print cloth. They were the traditional drummers, the band and the choir; the church exploded with music and song in Fante. Everyone stood up, and started dancing and clapping. It was amazing. We all experience the spirit of God in different ways, and this was one of them. The songs were beautiful; the drumming and the band was incredible. It felt like my feet could have lifted off the carpet and I could have flown right out the clerestory of the church.
Alex and Sammy grabbed me. I almost had to shout, "Where are we going?!" Alex yelled back, "Bra! Come! We are going to dance, come on!" We made out way down to the aisle in a sea of people, everyone singing, clapping and dancing.
The music and drums kept up, and the couple and their families danced their way out the doors of the church, outside for pictures. Charles loves to dance, and he looked so proud strutting and spinning with his new wife on his arm. We all followed, dancing in procession. When I got outside, I just stood and took it all in. I was speechless.
This day was a gift. I was brought into this incredible experience as a member of the family, and I will never forget it. It was that day that I realized what Uncle Prince told me, "I think God made a small error and you were born in the wrong place, but isn't it a wonderful blessing that He has helped you find your way home to us. Home to your family."
One of my favorite writers is Karen Blixen who took the pen name Isak Dinesen. She wrote "Out of Africa" and "Shadows on the Grass", her memoirs of living in Kenya in the early 1900's. Much of what she wrote was about how profoundly her identity changed from the impact of living in Africa.
"If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?" -- Karen Blixen, 1937
This is a question that stays with all of us who were not born on the African continent, but were blessed to have the opportunity to live there. It is such a profoundly moving experience which redefines everything we are and what we believe in. But the question that remains in our hearts is whether or not our lives will have had any significance to Africa.
I think of this often as I reflect on this life of mine and as I learn the customs of my Fante people. And I wonder - will I have an impact, even a small one, on their lives?
I pray for this every day.
