The Journey from Africa to America

It was 5:30 am and Ken has just finished his routine morning devotion. He must start preparing to go to the farm but he felt extremely reluctant today. He sat in the lazy-antique arm-chair which he inherited from his grandfather. He contemplated and mulled over his future and the circumstances surrounding his family. He has the intention of acquiring a white-collar job since farming was the predominant occupation in his village, and he simply wanted more , and wanted more for his people. Ken has realized the problems facing his village and people. Which were hardships; such as unemployment, poverty, and illiteracy. Which were heartbreaking in this day in age.Ken was a fresh GCSE (General Certificate of Secondary Education) graduate. With this low class educational qualification, he wondered if he would secure a well-paid job in the cities. He eventually decided to embark on a journey to the city in search for jobs to enable him live a decent life. He believed anything was possible.

Mr. Bue, Ken's father was 57 years old. He was soon going to ask for Yaa Gomoa's hands in marriage who already bore him two sons. Mr. Bue already had six wives whom he irresponsibly cared for. He was always buried in liquor. The absence of much space in his room was due to the presence of the numerous empty liquor bottles and gallons. They were his companions anytime he was drunk; he played and got dribbled by them, staggering as he found his way out. He was a short man with a bald head, and a protruding belly anchored by two imbalance legs that impatiently conveyed his aching body to and fro. He grew a long-dirty gray moustache coupled with a hoarse voice that scared children and animals away anytime he approached them.

Afi Kuma, Ken's mother regretted marrying him but she already had eight children with him. Ken was the fourth born and was fortunate to be exposed to the beauty of education. His mother went through hell to afford his education. Now it was his turn to reciprocate his mother's kind gestures and relentless efforts in bringing him up by working so hard to make life better for the family. He needed to utilize his book knowledge to earn money since his dad was only a jerk who chased anything feminine.

The day before Ken departed to the city, he had a dream. The dream was difficult and scary but of somewhat sweet and rejuvenating in other parts. He dreamt he was among the twenty brilliant but needy students on scholarship to study in Britain. On arrival in Heath row Airport, the plane crushed and the plane burst into flames. Of all the forty passengers on board the plane, only three survived the inferno including Ken. He woke up abruptly amidst screaming and perspiring profusely.

His screaming and shouting disturbed and stirred the beautiful pitch-dark night, waking the whole family up. Within a short time, deep silence crept over the family again. Ken could not sleep. He felt unease and frightened by the nightmare. He reminisced the incidents that took place in the dream as if they were taped on the walls of his brain. With his hand propped against his chin, he pondered trying to find meaning to his dream. "This dream might have some implications"; he thought. His mind traveled to the Bible. God is the only repository to his dream. He confided in the Bible as the only sacred book with all the revelations and meaning to life. He prayed, "Oh LORD God of Joseph and of Daniel, you are the interpreter of dreams; through your revelations, Joseph foresaw his future". Daniel was the only source of wisdom in the days of King Nebuchadnezzar. Through him you interpreted the king's dreams and he was honored because your spirit was with him. Now LORD God, please open my eyes and reveal to me the meaning of my dream; in Jesus' name, Amen!

He reposed on the hard wooden bed which creaked noisily in the silence after the prayer, trying to lull himself to sleep. He wished he could push the time forward because he wasn't finding a sleep. Finally, he drifted into a deep sleep. Not long, there was a violent earthquake in his village. All the buildings collapsed; there was a great massacre and damage. People were buried beneath the collapsed buildings, not even a soul survived. His whole family made up of step-brothers and step-sisters, and step-mothers perished. But his only mother never died. Her neck got stuck in between two beams that had fallen from the collapsed buildings. He went to her rescue. "Ken, Ken!!". Fofo, the fifth born, slightly shook him. The mumbling and discomfort made by Ken told Fofo he was dreaming again. Ken's dream was interrupted. He couldn't save his mother. He tried to recap the dream but some parts escaped his memory. "No, these dreams aren't mere nightmares, they might have definite implications on my life", he told himself. Dreams are real. God was trying to reveal something to him.

It was daybreak. The deep darkness that had once engulfed the whole village of Lomnava disappeared. The early bright and smiling morning sun appeared high in the east, replacing the dying moon that had already done her job. Ken picked up the calabash, drew some water from the earthen-pot placed at one corner of the room. He washed his face. He reached out for a cutlass, and straight into the bush to chop a tender branch of a nimtree for their teeth. In this village, toothpaste and toothbrush weren't commonly used by everyone. They were hard to come by. Only the so-called rich people used them. Despite the use of chewing-sticks, their teeth were firmly and beautifully arranged, and whiter than snow.

The sad look on Ken's face made his mother suspicious. "What is the problem, Ken?" she enquired. He narrated his tragic dreams. "They were only dreams". His mother consoled, trying to revive his spirit. This was unusual of Ken. His mother was scared too, but she encouraged herself. Ken felt something dreadful could happen to him so he postponed the journey to the city to a later date; and had decided to seek spiritual insight and meaning to his frightening revelations.

Father Ackah Brews, the reverend priest of the Roman Catholic Church was one of the most respected and honored characters in the village. He was an outstanding figure. His spiritual insight, dedication and love for God gave him much recognition all over the village. He was a calm man with a humble spirit. Ken never hesitated to consult him. He was in the mission house, suddenly, there was a knock at his door. He walked briskly to see who was at the door.

"Good morning Father"."Good morning Ken, how are you?" "I am fine by the grace of God". "That is good; we thank God for the gift of life". Father Ackah concluded. They both entered his living room. A prayer was said by the reverend Father after Ken narrated his dreams. They both spent half the day praying and reading portions of the scriptures. Ken never went out that day. He spent the whole day indoor brooding over the dreams.

Meanwhile, Fofo was already dressed up for farm. He was clad in a brown tight fitting khaki trouser with crisp, shabby red long-sleeve top. He was holding machete in one hand and a hoe propped over his shoulder. He must get to the farm before the scorching sun set high in the sky. The farm was almost 10 miles away from the village. Fofo, unlike his brother Ken, was dark in complexion and heavily built. He had enviable body structure that enabled him work assiduously like an unyielding stallion. Ken was a medium-size young man with brown skin pigmentation. His round eyes, little projecting prominent forehead, and a broad face decorated with a pointed nose, and neatly arranged white teeth, bordered by slightly thick tender lips made him look so handsome and romantic. He could sing very well because of his soft, velvet voice but he never took pleasure in doing it.

Fofo was almost half way to the farm. He stopped to cut palm frond and use it as a cover over his head against the hot sun. Suddenly, he spotted two squirrels frisking and enjoying the fallen ripen palm fruits under the thorn-bushes. He laid ambush and reached for his catapult. Quickly, he fished out two rough stones from his pocket and slung one into the catapult. He aimed straight at the animal but the squirrel wouldn't be stable. He needed to employ smartness and great skills in order to kill it. He finally fired. Fortunately and unfortunately for him, the animal was severely wounded in its hind leg. It was limping but managed to escape. Fofo gave a hot chase and caught up with it. He fired another shot; the animal was damn down now. He grinned. "Today is a lucky day", he said.

Time to work. Fofo settled under the mammoth baobab tree. He lowered his hoe and began to weed. Almost two hours were spent on the farm. He looked behind and realized he had worked very well so far. He felt little tired but he refused to rest. He would not rest until he finished three acres. His palm developed calluses; making them very hard. He lifted up his head only to notice a sharp change in the weather. The hot sun had given way to the dark-thick heavy clouds that were gathering gradually. It was obvious there was going to be a heavy down pour. Fofo was happy; likewise every farmer in the land of Lomnava. They had long expected the rain over three months now. Their crops were dying. Some even developed yellowish and brownish leaves, though they weren't ready for harvesting. The change in the weather scotched Fofo's work on the farm. He was on his way back home. He remembered the chopped cassava he was going to use for 'konkonte' dried cassava powder) in the open. He must get it before the rain set in.

Thursdays were busy days in Lomnava. It was their market day. All the women and children went to market their farm produce. People came from the near-by villages to do business. Afi Kuma was no exception. She was already seated behind her displayed wares. "Four for ¢1,000.00" she shouted, trying to draw the attention of customers who passed by. A customer approached. It was a fair-colored young lady with a pair of spectacles on. She looked charming. "How much is the plantain?"; the lady enquired."Four for ¢1,000.00", replied Afi Kuma. "I'll pay ¢800.00", the lady haggled.

The bargain continued, and finally, a negotiation was reached. It was half day. Suddenly, the rain set in. Women and children ran helter-skelter for cover. Some leaving their wares in the rain. The untimely rain halted every activity in the market. It rained cat and dog, solidifying the loose dust into wet lumps. The ground became muddy and slippery such that it impeded movement. The market looked scrappy.

Even though Afi Kuma did not make a whole day sales, the profit she made was encouraging. She preened herself after the rain and set off home.

A week past, Ken made no progress in his plans to the city. The dead and dried weeds started sprouting. Every farmer was busily working in the fields. The long-awaited rain gave them home. Many hands were needed on the farm before the second rain set in. Ken was on his way to the Agro-Chemical Shop to purchase a bag of treated corn for hid five-acre farm, which he cleared few days before the rain when he met Agbozo, his childhood friend.

"Where are you going?""To buy some treated corn for my farm", Ken answered.

"I wanted to buy a bag too, but there are some in the barn from last year's harvest; I think they are enough for my farm"."Really, you mean you can keep last year's harvest up to now?", "unlike my family, the harvest would be rightly consumed on the farm before reaching home", Ken added."I know, but having a large family size means more farm-hands", Agbozo said, giggling coyly. His modest laughter was contagious. It infected Ken too. They both laughed it off."Ken, do you need a hand on the farm?""Well, I pleaded Fofo to assist me but I think he would also be busy tomorrow"."Alright then, I'm less busy tomorrow, I'll come over and help".

"Oh thank you Agbozo", Ken appreciated. The inhabitants of Lomnava lived as a family. One man's problem is another's. They lived in a loving, peace brotherhood. Especially, during the farming seasons, they gave hands to one another. They were each other's keepers.

Afi Kuma was home today. After having been done with some household chores, she decided to see her debtors who bought foodstuffs on credit from her the last market day. She went round but most of them were not home. She left messages behind for them. She came home very exhausted. Dusk was falling; the crescent moon had already appeared behind the tall trees. This gave the children the indication that night was falling. They stopped playing in the parks and ran home. They had better taken their bath before it was dark, with the fear that they would be visited by ghost for showering late at night. This was the superstition the elders instilled in them. By now, every family had finished eating supper. Mawupemo, a child of Lomnava was on his way to the house of Dadaga, the old lady, to listen to stories and riddles. He was a little late; all the children were cyclically seated. Dadaga was almost done with the first folk-tale. She was concluding. All that Mawupemo heard was: ...the hunter and the bird. He bit his thumb. This shows he was not happy. He shook his head in disappointment; he wished the story could be told again. He tried to recall a similar story he heard at school when it was story time

"Was it the same story", he asked himself; standing with arms akimbo looking a little perplexed in the head. His mind played back the story non-chronologically with distortion, evaporating some parts: "once upon a time, there lived three good friends: tortoise, climbing plan, and singing bird. They lived and did everything together in a very thick forest. The tortoise lived under a big tree and in the branches of the same tree, the bird made its nest. The climbing plant linked them by meandering from the base of the tree to its branches. Anytime the tortoise wanted to communicate with the singing bird, it passed the information through the climbing plant; likewise the bird. One day the singing bird sang so noisily the whole day disturbing all the animals in the forest.

The tortoise became bothered and passed a word of caution through the climbing plant to the singing bird to keep quiet. The singing bird cared less; it said: "I can't be bothered". It continued to sing more loudly. The tortoise again cautioned it. This time, the singing bird replied; "I'm top and higher than you are so if you care, go to hell". The tortoise was troubled but remained silent. Suddenly, a hunter spotted the bird from a distance. He lifted his gun and aimed straight at the singing bird. "Pow", he fired. The bird fell from the tree to the ground. It fell co-incidentally right where the tortoise was hiding. The hunter went to pick it up. Fortunately for him, he found the tortoise in its hiding place. He picked both the singing bird and the tortoise. It was a lucky day for him. He did not know how would carry both games home. He looked around and found the climbing plant. He cut it and used it to tie the tortoise and the bird. Straight, he went home. So the three good friends all died the same day", Mawupemo concluded his story. The ending reminded him of the wise saying of one African; Martin Luther King Junior who was carried on board the ship as a slave to America . He said: "we must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools". Again, his fathers favorite sayings: "Unity is strength, together we stand, divided we fall", echoed in his brain.

Dadaga was in the middle of the second story. She stopped, the children crooned for two minutes after which she continued. Mawupemo was now back to himself. What was the second story about? He was lost again. Today was a bad day for him. How he loved stories. He would ask Mana to retell him both stories during break time at school tomorrow. He would pay much attention this time to the riddle which was the last thing before they dispersed. This was the climax of the evening.

"Today's riddle attracts a prize", Dadaga announced. All the children became boisterous. Their faces were lightened with curiosity. Who would pick the prize home? Would be it Mawupemo or otherwise? The children wished they had heard the riddle before. Mawupemo remained unabated. In the African culture particularly Ghana ; riddles are considered ways of testing the intelligence of the child. They make children witty and quick thinkers. That was why Mr. Gbedemah, Mawupemo's father never failed to bombard his son with difficult riddles.

"riddle, riddle", Dadaga said."riddle", the children responded chorusly.

"There are two pots in our house; they contain no water until a visitor arrives. What are these pots?"

There was total silence among the children for three minutes. Everybody was deeply thinking. Finally, a hand went up. It was Mana. "Yes Mana, what is the answer?", Dadaga demanded. "the answer is drinking cup".

"No, you've tried but it's wrong". "Ooh!!!" the children interjected. There was a verbal commotion among them. They thought the answer was right but Dadaga was refusing it. Another hand was up. It was Mawupemo, would he get it right? None of the children knew he had heard the same riddle before. That was the last riddle his grandmother told him before she passed away. "Yes, Mawupemo". "The answer is a woman's breasts, not until a baby is born; they contain no water or breast milk.

"Good, that's correct, clap for him". There was a loud applause. Mawupemo won the prize of three oranges. His head got swollen with pride. The other children were envious of him. It was getting late. All the children left for their individual homes. It was a beautiful night indeed.

Ken snored heavily in his bed. Soon, he heard the first crow of an old tame rooster from behind his window. That was the first pet his mother bought some years back. The animal kept dwindling because it was full of years. It was referred to as "grandfather" of all the fowls in the house. Ken flipped to the other side of the bed, flinging both hands. His sleep has been disturbed; he hated to hear the cock crow whenever he was enjoying his sleep. But this time, he was grateful to the grandfather cock. He remembered he had a heavy scheduled-day.

After his morning devotion, he jumped out of bed. The dawn of a new day once again gave life to the people of Lomnava. Life returned to normal after a long silent night. Children and women where seen carrying pots to the stream to draw water. Some other women were sweeping the market square, and men with boys started their journey to the farms. Wild birds flew high in the skies and on tall trees, chirping and singing melodiously deepening the beauty of the tranquil morning. Ken got dressed up in his farm clothes waiting anxiously for the arrival of Agbozo. He waited for almost half an hour but his buddy never showed up. He finally dashed to the farm. Not long ago after he left, Agbozo mischievously arrived. He was told Ken just left few minutes ago. He doubled his steps and caught up with him at a place where three foot-paths met. He told Ken he had to do some chores that contributed to his lateness. He apologized.

Ken spent the rest of the day still thinking about Abigail; how so soon they have lost contact. He committed a blunder by not devoting much of his time to their friendship. He now felt somehow smitten. Was it love he was feeling? His conscience questioned, "What is LOVE?" he felt disgusted whenever he heard young people of the opposite sex talking about love. "Do you really understand the word love? what do you know about love". His father's infidelity and polygamous life made him lugubrious and deaden to love. This was the main contributing factor to their suffering. He had always ever devoted his time to self-discipline and hard work, thinking and finding possible means of making his own life better and here he was, wasting time thinking about an illusion called love. "No, no!!" whether hardships or no hardships, life must still go on; at a stage in life, one must find love and ought to be loved," he comforted himself. Abigail wasn't just an ordinary girl. She was of a class: brilliant, noble, well-mannered, beautiful and above all she was from a rich family. He would give love a chance, this could pay off. Would this be possible? Would he ever come into contact with her? Perhaps this could happen in a dream. This was impossible but Ken wasn't perturbed; he knew everything was possible with time.

Gazing from afar, Ken heard human commotion and hoots. The noise kept approaching; he walked to catch a glimpse of what was happening. There was a horde of school boys and girls standing in the hot sun. He drew closer, and got a better view of the scene. It was a fierce scuffle between two boys. It was a seamy fight but the spectators stood aloof having fun amidst shouting. The two rivals looked scruffy. Ken managed to separate them and enquired what the cause was. They both refused to give explanations but one finally talked.

He was laconic so Ken could not clearly get what the cause of the fight was. One of the onlookers narrated the story: "the short boy is a senior to the big boy; he instructed him to kneel down during morning assembly because he was late which he refused to comply. The big boy thought he was older than his senior so he showed no signs of obedience. The short boy reported him to the teacher on duty and he was given six hot lashes at his back. This infuriated the big boy; he threatened to teach the short boy a lesson after close of school" Ken found their names to be Philip and Kofi. He gave them a strong warning to desist from fighting and if he again found them in the same act, he would report them to the school authorities for internal suspension. Kenn vividly remembered he encountered similar incident when he was in Upper Primary Six. That was the power of seniority; but he was smallish. "Eh bullying," he reminisced.

Two days later, Ken went to the market to purchase few items. On his way back home he caught a glimpse at a poster just before the main entrance to the market. The poster announced the earlier celebration of the Hogbetsotso festival. This year's celebration was shifted forward unlike the normal annual date. This was because there was a change in the chief's program for the year. This year was an exceptional; there were going to be some developmental projects. Public toilets were going to be constructed for the village.

Copies of the letter were dispatched to the chiefs and queen mothers of other villages and towns, relatives and family members who have traveled outside the town, and dignitaries such as the President of Ghana and the Regional Minister were also invited. The people celebrate this festival annually to commemorate their past and to honor their heroes who had fought hard and brought them out of captivity into their present land. Their ancestors migrated from Ketu in Benin to Notsie in Togo . They later escaped to Ghana from the reign of their wicked and cruel King called Agorkorli. The festival was also used to mark the beginning of a harvest year. The gong beater, two days later went round the village to confirm the celebration as he announced that the day fell on the day after the second market day. Soon preparations were in place; the chief organized a communal labor which consisted mostly the youths. They cleared and swept every corner. The fellow who did not show up was fined. The town looked serene.

To be continued ...

The two comrades walked and deliberated on their childhood life as well as their future. Both of them were gregarious so they really enjoyed their talks. They realized their childhood living was very austere. They needed more freedom and fun. Ken asked Agbozo; "what do you wan to become in future?" It was a difficult questing for Agbozo. He least expected Ken to put such a question across. They had just completed school so he was undecided. Perhaps, both his parents kept compelling him choosing between two different careers. His mother wanted him become a Medical Doctor whilst his father wanted him to be a Teacher. The decision in choosing one's career determines one's success in life so he needed to be precise. He was now in a dilemma. Left to him alone, he would be a medical doctor. He threw the question back to its owner; "Ok, Ken, you answer me first, what do you want to become?" "Hmm!!!" Ken paused and thought deeply. He resumed; "you know I admire becoming a civil engineer but I'm not all that good at Science especially Physics, I'd like to become a Chartered Accountant instead; Mr. Agyemang James, the accounting master even advised me on choosing that career".

"Good", retorted Agbozo. "I also thought of you going in for same career", you know you were good at calculating and tabulating figures fast and accurately in class?" he added. Ken grinned. He knew that was definitely his right field of future career.

"Okay, now Agbozo, tell me what you want to become". He pleaded. Still, Agbozo never wanted to make his thoughts known. He ought to decide but he knew the right career he would choose. Keen read his facial expression and reported: "I guess you would like to become a medical doctor". Ken's pronouncement jolted Agbozo. He felt Ken was reading his thoughts. "Don't be surprised Agbozo, I knew you would become a medical doctor in future, from the time we had the Biology Class Test and the subsequent Biology school exams, you showed you were the best ever in Science", adding to the short drama in which you played the part of a medical doctor during the opening durbar of the school, you did it absolutely perfect. If I was the school authorities, I would have given you an ex-gratia". Keen eulogized Agbozo. They both laughed.

It was now obvious the two friends had a brighter future, but the mentioning of Science in their talk brought back fond memories about his classmate Abigail. She was Ken's girlfriend. She was svelte and curvaceous. Her beauty was peculiar. This captivated Ken so much. She was good in Science just like her counterpart Agbozo. She topped the whole school in their final exams. Unlike Ken, she was from a wealthy family so she had all the good things she wanted. They were only platonic friends but why should Ken remember her at this time? It has been months since they lost contact after their final exams. In the last quarter of their final year at school, Ken started developing a strange feeling that was beyond friendship for her. Love is not fortuitous. He wouldn't be a goof like his father. He must be careful about the choices and decisions made in life. He tried to brush off the thought of Abigail that has enveloped him.

Abgozo broke the short silence that had overtaken them by cracking one funny joke. They both laughed and went their way. On the way they met people already returning from their farms, some carrying a bunch of plantain, baskets full of cassava, coco yam, and bundles of firewood. These people set foot off home earlier. They had other errands to attend to. The two friends greeted them in Ewe (the dialect spoken by the people of Volta Region in the eastern part of Ghana): "maiwode", meaning you are welcome back. Finally, work began on the farm. Ken made holes in the ground about 5 cm deep with his hoe in rows and Agbozo filled them from behind placing three or four grains in a hole. Planting maize is normally done early in the morning or late in the evening. With this, the grains would be fresh enough to germinate. The influx mechanized agriculture that involved the use of tractors, combine harvesters, herbicides and pesticides for controlling weeds and pests, and fertilizers that was highly and widely preached and advocated by the Ghana government was lacking in this village. The people were still hooked to their traditional or local methods of farming. They normally used hoes and cutlasses. Owing to this, productivity was very low.

The two friends sang as they worked together. This motivated them. "Ayekoo", a farmer passing by greeted; which is literally translated "congratulations". Gradually, they came to the end of the day's work.

The earlier smiling and friendly sun started proving hostile. It was no longer safe and advisable to work. They traced their steps back home. On the way, Agbozo requested they passed by his father's farm to check on the snares he had set three days ago. Luck wasn't on his side; the animals cunningly ate the bait but didn't get trapped. Ken carefully studied the snare and noticed Agbozo was not professional in setting it. He showed him to set it cleverly. They gathered handful of wild mushrooms from under the fallen rotten palm trees that produced dozens of gallons of palm wine for their owners, and finally headed home.