Your Poppy Talk You Say You For No Marry Ayigbe (Wo) Man. I Lie?

The other day one of the readers of Wo Se Ekyir encouraged me, after he read “Letter to my Imaginary Friend" to use more mfantse words in my posts, adding that though others who don’t speak the language may not like it, he loved it. I think it’s great that he received the mfantsi-english so well. But I think too of all the Ga, Ewe, Akuapem, Grusi, Wassa, Ashanti people who read Wo Se Ekyir. Wo Se Ekyir is about the Ghanaian life, not the Fanti life. If I talk a lot in mfantse it is because it is my first language, my mother tongue. At one point, I was posting mfantse riddles on facebook which I’d translate in english and I thought everyone was loving it until a friend of mine, a Ga person complained that we were excluding the Gas. Hmm. I explained that the only reason I wasn’t writing the riddles in more Ghanaian languages is because I don’t know how to write in Ga or the other languages. Ona bɔni inkyɔɔ:) So I encouraged her to take a leaf from my book and post Ga riddles or even translate my riddles into Ga. She did not do that, and I ran out of mfantse riddles so the riddle time on facebook has paused for a minute but this little experience made me wonder how we can be inclusive when we speak so many different languages. Readers, tell me, when I write in mfantse, do you who do not speak it feel excluded?

I can’t think of how to perfectly segue into talking about tribalism in Ghana so I’ll just jump in. I’m not going to define tribalism or point fingers at other people or give solutions and suggestions about what the government, schools and churches can do. We've been doing that and we're still where we are:) Let’s cut to the chase. What can we do? What can I do? I need this to be an open space where I can talk honestly and specifically about how as a fanti girl, I have been socialised to reject some particular ethnic groups, but those interested can find another honest article here about tribalism in Ghana,

When I was in my mid teens, I dated an Ewe man who sang me traditional Ashanti lullabies which I loved! My favorite was one which told of the powers of Kɔmfo Anɔkye, praising him as one who could even fetch water with a basket. Sɔɔɔɔsket!:

Anɔkye e

W’ayɛ bi o

Anɔkye e

W’aye bi o

ɔde kɛntɛn na ɛko nsuo

ɔde kɛntɛn na ɛko nsuo

Anɔkye e

W’ayɛ bi o

Despite how cool the guy was, I found it necessary to tell all that he was the kind of Ewe boy who spoke no Ewe but spoke twi better than any of the other guys I knew at the time. (The way to my heart is ability to speak any ghanaian language perfectly. Akuapem is my weakness. The language dey bi me pass!). Why I needed to justify my choice of an Ewe man in this manner, I do not know. Why did I need to say that my Ewe boy was more Ashanti than the Ashanti boys? Perhaps I did it because even that early, I had internalised that I should not date an Ewe man though no one had told me not to. Later, someone did. Let’s call him Mr. Nkonyaa. He was my father’s friend who sometimes gave me a ride to that village school in cape-coast because his daughter attended the same school. On this day, he picked me up first, and on the way to pick up his daughter from his house, the following conversation ensued:

Mr. Nkonyaa: Do you have a boyfriend

Me: I have many boyfriends

Mr. Nkonyaa: You know what I’m talking about

Me: Yes, I have a boyfriend

Mr. Nkonyaa: What is his name?

Me: William Kofi

Mr. Nkonyaa: Did he go to University Primary?

Me: No

Mr. Nkonyaa: Does he attend one of the Cape-Coast Schools?

Me: No, he goes to Achimota School

Mr. Nkonyaa: So how did you meet?

Me: At Presec. Vacation classes (haha)

Mr. Nkonyaa: Where is he from?

Me: He’s an Ewe

Mr. Nkonyaa: Break up with him

Me: Why?

Mr. Nkonyaa: They’re not good people

Me: This one was born and raised in Accra, he doesn’t even speak the language.

Mr. Nkonyaa: It doesn’t matter. Break up with him

Me: I don’t think it’s fair for me to break up with him just because he’s an Ewe

Mr. Nkonyaa: God knows why he put us on different soil. We must stick to our own kind and let them stick to their own. Will you break up with him?

Me: Yes

While we were having this conversation, I was feeling quite rebellious, and I had every intention of continuing with William Kofi but ask me what happened?

Readers, I broke up with the boy. I wrote him a letter saying that I no longer wanted to be in a relationship, that is, until I saw him again the next vacation and all thoughts of breaking up flew out of my head and we got right back together. Teenage love:) By the way, I later learned that this man was the extreme type who would not even employ Ewe people in the company that he partly owned. Wow!

A year or so later, I got the same warning from my father. Now that was surprising to me because unlike Mr. Nkonyaa, my dad fraternized with more Ewe people than with Akans. Heck, I’d eaten some cat meat which he and his Ewe friends had prepared against some bɛɛma nkwan and mfantse dɔkon a few times when I was growing up. And he now turns around to caution me against marrying an Ewe man? Hmm. I didn’t get satisfactory answers from him so I asked my mother who explained that they knew of several examples in his family where women had married Ewe men and been mistreated by the man’s family either while the man was alive or after he was dead. She added that the Ewe families they’d experienced always ended up bring an Ewe bride from the village even after the man had married someone from our family. Now I could see their concern and it started to make sense to me that my dad was giving me that advice, he this cat-eating, one-man-thousand-buying, ayigbe-kente-wearing man.

About a month ago, I asked a young man who is about my age and a fanti whether he too had been warned not to marry an Ewe girl. He said that he had and that he thinks his parents would not really be too receptive toward any other tribe but fanti. This is 2008, people. It is easy to say that our generation does necessarily think like our parents but we seek their approval our choice of life partners certainly is one of those things that we ideally would want our parents to approve of. I’ve asked other young people, people with parents far more educated than mine. PhDs, well travelled, big men, and sadly, many of them are telling their children the same. Speaking of which, Mr. Nkonyaa is a Chartered Accountant. The man go school but stiiiilll, ibi tribalistic to the core! To borrow the words of my good friend M.anifest, ibi colonialistic mental. This plenty school matter, ino shɛdaa dey boa us that much o.

Let me side-track a little. I’m starting to get into African architecture. I visited and spoke with one architect who seems incredibly knowledgeable about the topic. While I was soaking up all that he was telling me, it became clear to me that you cannot fully appreciate African architecture without knowing African history. So it should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been trying to learn more about Ghanaian history and especially about the way we were before the coming of the Europeans. There’s no way to learn that without learning about all of Africa, ancient empires, trade routes, even some anthropology. The architect showed me his books with great design ideas from all over Africa. It is really exciting stuff! There is so much out there that staying in Ghana alone is too limiting. I should learn more about the Niger crosses for example. So here was I thinking that we should intermarry more, cross some boundaries, date and marry people from Mali, Nigeria, Togo, Benin, Kenya etc, and make some beautiful mixed babies. But then I return from my dream only to realise that even within Ghana, our parents are telling us not to marry across tribes. Wey kind life dat?

How can we move forward when these are the conversations we’re having in our homes yet we provide academic suggestions for what Ghana can do to mitigate tribalism? Charle, we are the Ghana. Change yourself!

If you have any stories to add, please share. Also, if the story in your home is different, Anyɛmi (tr: friend), fire away and let's keep talking.

Ps: Interestingly fanti women are also known dɛ wɔhyɛ hɔn kunnom gya (give their husbands hell) especially in their old age. One guy I met recently was telling me how one fanti woman he knows is giving his friend (her husband) so tough a time that he's miserable in the marriage. Even my mother (who is wassa) says this about fanti women. Yet no one is stopping their sons from marrying fanti women. If you ask me, I'll say there are good people and bad people. All these are stereotypes that we need to let go of in order to move forward.