Oral Literature in Africa (28 page)

Daughter of a spokesman, who is herself a spokesman,

Mother, it may appear that all is well with me, but I am struggling.

Nyaakowaa of Anteade and grandchild of Osafo Agyeman,

O, mother, I am struggling; all is not as well as it appears.

Mother, if you would send me something, I would like a parcel and a big cooking pot that entertains strangers.

The god
opem
has

failed; the gourd of charms has won.

O, mother, there is no branch above which I could grasp.

Mother, if you would send me something, I would like parched corn

So that I could eat it raw if there was no fire to cook it.

Mother, the parrot will catch a skin disease from the fowls and die!

Grandchild of grandsire Kwaagyei of
Hwendeemu
that drinks Abono,

Grandsire, the mighty pot, saviour of strangers,

O, mother, I am struggling; all is not as well with me as it appears.

Mother who sends gifts, send me something when someone is coming this way.

Mother, there is no fire in the deserted dwelling

From which I could take a brand to light my fire.

My helpful Wicker Basket that comes to my aid with lumps of salt,
⁵

O, mother, I would weep blood for you, if only Otire
’s
child would be allowed to.

Grandsire, the crab that knows the hiding place of alluvial gold,

What is the matter, child of the spokesman?

Mother has allowed this death to take me by surprise.

O, mother, I am struggling; all
is
not as well with me as it appears.

(Nketia 1955: 196)

Nketia describes in some detail the conventional language and themes of dirges—themes which throw light on features which might otherwise seem puzzling or banal. The deceased is the focal point. He may be addressed, his individual qualities described, or he may be identified with one or several ancestors. To refer to him the mourner often uses a series of different names that vary the language as well as honouring the dead. Besides proper names the Akan also have corresponding ‘by-names’ and these often occur in dirges for affective reasons. The same applies to praise appellations, terms which ‘describe in a convenient short or gnomic form the qualities or expected qualities, accomplishment or status of a holder of the corresponding proper name’ (Nketia 1955: 31). Thus in the first dirge quoted above, Gyima’s praise names include
Anko-anna
(‘one who is restive until he has fought and won’) and
Dwentiwaa kunu barima
Katakyie
(‘Dwentiwaa’s husband and a man of valour’). Other instances of praise names can be translated as ‘the beetle that eats away raffia’ or ‘Noble Apea Kusi, feller of Odum trees’ (Nketia 1955: 32). They may in fact have been won by an earlier individual of the same name, but are used for contemporaries who are imaginatively pictured in the dirge as possessing the same qualities or status as their famous namesakes. The poetry is also further embellished by another type of reference to the deceased—the ‘dirge names’. These are sometimes made up of a string of by-names, praise names, and other words, but also have less usual forms according to which a person of a given proper name can be addressed by any one of several dirge names. Many of these names cannot be translated—for example, one of the dirge names of a man called Apea:
Nyenenkye Asamanwoma Apeantummaa
(Nketia 1955: 33)—but used in a dirge they introduce an elevated and high-sounding effect.

Beside these specialized names, the deceased is also addressed by kinship terms and terms of endearment. In the second dirge quoted, the dead woman was addressed throughout as ‘mother’ and other such terms (‘father’, ‘uncle’, etc.) are frequent. The relationship to some third person is also used; the deceased may appear as, for instance, ‘The Drummer’s child’, ‘Father of Obempon and Ayirebiwaa’, or ‘Grandchild of Wealth’. Finally, a name of reference may be used to associate him with his clan or group—’Child of the Biretuo clan of Sekyere’, ‘Grandchild of the Buffalo’ (i.e. of the
ekoona
clan), or ‘The white fowl spotted by the roving hawk’ (i.e. of the Bosomtwe Ntoro group) (Nketia 1955: 33–4).

Besides these ornamental names, qualities are often dwelt on. Benevolence in particular is frequently lauded in the dirges. It is referred to in such stock phrases as ‘The slender arm full of benevolence’, ‘Grandmother, the big cooking pot that entertains strangers’, ‘You are a mighty tree with big branches laden with fruit. When children come to you, they find something to eat’, or ‘Fount of satisfaction’ (Nketia 1955: 33–4). Sympathy and kindness are also picked out: ‘He is a father to other people’s children’; ‘He was like the tree of the plantain planted behind the house, that gave shade and coolness’; and frequent references to the wisdom of the dead are expected, expressed by the singer lamenting that she no longer has anyone to give her advice. Fruitfulness is also commonly described, and one of the conventional comparisons is between a fruitful woman and the okro fruit with its many seeds: ‘Mother the okro, full of the seeds of many issues and proven.’ These stock ways of referring to the deceased both elevate his good points and bring home to the community the loss it has suffered.

While the person of the deceased is the focus of attention, there are other themes. One of the most frequent is that of the ancestor. Among the Akan, ancestry is important, both through the mother (significant for most social purposes) and through the father who represents the ‘spiritual’ side. In dirges both types of ancestry are commemorated, and the fact brought out that a member of two social groups (the father’s
and
the mother’s) has been lost. Thus the paternal ancestry of the deceased is often referred to in special name-clusters which indicate the
ntoro
(paternal group) of the person being mourned, names such as ‘Nwanwanyane, offspring of the Leopard’, or ‘Gyebiri Siaw Anim, the nobleman’. References to ancestors in the female line are even more common, and the kinship of the deceased to a series of ancestors is emphasized. Some dirges concentrate almost completely on this theme. One opens

Kotoku man and grandchild of the Vanguard of Kotoku,

Grandchild of Ampoma: our lineage originates from Kotoku.

Grandchild of Baabu: our lineage hails from Kade …

(Nketia 1955: 22)

and then continues through the various relationships of the deceased. Particularly in royal dirges one of the ancestors may be singled out for praise. An ancestor’s bravery, skill, or leadership may be mentioned. His use of power, for example, is dwelt on in one dirge:

In the olden days, when you were

On your way to Akora Kusi’s house,

You would stumble over skulls;

Vultures got up to greet you;

Blue bottle flies buzzed round you,

As if to say, Alas!

(Nketia 1955: 23)

In this way the deceased can be praised indirectly through his ancestors’ great deeds. At funerals the Akan remind themselves both that their ancestors too were once human beings and that they themselves, as well as the deceased, are not without an ancestry and a historic tradition of which they can be proud. As a mourner sings:

We are from Creation.

It was my people who first came here,

And were joined later by the Fante Hosts.

It was my grandfather that founded Komenda.

I am the grandchild of the Parrot that eats palm nuts.

It was my grandfather that weighed gold

And the scales broke into pieces under its weight.

Grandchild of Apea Korankye hails from Abooso.

(Nketia 1955: 26)

Rather similar to the theme of ancestors is that of places. The identity of the deceased (or his ancestors) is clarified by adding the name of his home or place of origin (the link between the dead and their mourners is often brought out by the fact that they share a common home). This convention often introduces historic evocations into a dirge. It also adds colour to the words, for it is common for a descriptive phrase to be added to the name itself: ‘Asumegya Santemanso, where the leopard roars and comes to town for its prey’ or ‘Hwerebe Akwasiase, where the Creator first erected a fireplace and placed a beating stick by it’ (Nketia 1955: 41). References to places can either be interspersed throughout the poem or, in combination with the theme of the ancestor, form the main framework on which the whole dirge is built up.

While the main focus of the dirge is on the deceased—his nature and qualities, his ancestors, his historic home—the mourner also makes certain reflections. There are certain stock ways in which these are expressed. The dead man is often pictured as setting out on a journey, so that part of what the mourner is doing is bidding him farewell—’Farewell, thou priest’ or ‘Receive condolences and proceed on’ (Nketia 1955: 44). The sorrow of parting is brought out in stock phrases like ‘I call him, but in vain’, ‘I would weep blood’ (if only that would bring you back), or, with more passionate emphasis on the mourner’s sense of loss, ‘I am in flooded waters. Who will rescue me?’ and ‘There is no branch above which I could grasp’. The mourner wishes for a continued friendship with the dead man even when he reaches the world of spirits, and speaks of wishing to go with him, or to exchange gifts or messages; this is why the singer so often asks the dead to ‘send me something when someone is coming’—an imaginative rather than a literal request. The mourner expresses her sorrow and loss through particular concrete images rather than through general statements about death. Instead of speaking of death taking away her support, she sings ‘The tree that gives shade and coolness has been hewn down’; and, when she alludes to the shortness of life, she uses the conventional metaphor in which the duration of life is compared to the time a market woman takes to sell her goods—‘What were your wares that they are sold out so quickly?’

Among all these various motifs and conventions of content and expression the individual mourner can select her own. The use of many of the stock forms of expression does not necessarily mean a lack of sincerity on her part or that she creates little artistic impact. As Nketia puts it, the ‘traditional forms of expression [are] still pregnant with emotion to the Akan, expressions which are not considered outworn in spite of frequent use’ (Nketia 1955: 49).

III

Four main types of dirge can be distinguished. All are built up on the conventional themes and forms of expression already described, but they vary both in the arrangement of the material and in the scope given for the spontaneity of the mourner.

The first, type ‘A’, is the most stereotyped and dignified. This kind of dirge is short and marked by unity of subject. Besides mention of the deceased, reference is normally made to just one ancestor, one of his qualities, and one single place. Many different dirges of this type can be built up about the same person; the same ancestor can be brought in but with a different quality described; or all the references could be changed, with a different ancestor introduced and a different place of domicile, forming the framework for another set of dirges round that theme. In spite of the stereotyped structure, then, the possibility of variation according to the singer’s choice in a particular situation is manifold.

Such dirges open with a name, usually of an ancestor, and this theme is then taken up in the next portion of the poem, referred to as the subject, in which the ancestor’s qualities are mentioned. He may be associated with some historical event, or with some message or observation. This portion of the dirge can be short or long according to the theme chosen. This is followed by a break, a point at which the dirge name of the deceased is inserted. In other words, until this point the dirge can be used for any member of the group associated with the ancestor, but the insertion of the dirge name ties the poem to a particular individual. After the dirge name, the formal part of the poem can be ended, often with the theme of the place of origin and domicile. By linking them both to the same place, the ancestor mentioned in the opening and the deceased just referred to by his dirge name are brought together. The dirge may stop at this point, but if the mourner wishes she can extend it by adding her own reflections in rather less conventional style.

Type ‘A’ dirges, then, can be seen to fall into four sections—(a) opening, (b) subject, (c) insertion, (d) close, followed by an optional addition, (e) the extension. The structure can be illustrated in the following example:

(a)   Karikari Poti of Asumegya.

(b)   When I am on the way, do not let me meet

Gye-me-di, the terror.

It is Karikari Poti, Gye-me-di, the terror

That spells death to those who meet him.

(c)   Pampam Yiadom Boakye Akum-ntem.

(d)   Grandchild of Karikari Poti hails from Asumegya Santemanso

Where the leopard roars and comes to town for its prey.

(e)   O, mother,

(What of) Your children and I.

O, mother,

Your children and I will feed on the spider,

The mouse is too big a game.

(Nketia 1955: 57–8)

Though dirges of the other three types are somewhat less stereotyped, similar detailed analyses could be made of their conventional structure. Type ‘B’ is made up of a series of short stanzas which can follow each other in any order and are themselves structured according to certain conventional patterns. An example of this type is the three-stanza dirge:

Grandchild of Boampon of Asokore clan

That walked in majesty amid flying bullets:

Child of a leading Spokesman.

He was an elephant tusk which I was going to use

for carving out a trumpet,

Ofori, child of Konkonti.

Father Apau that overpowers bullets:

Offspring of Nkwamfo Abredwom.

Alas! Death gave me no warning

so that I might get ready.

Mother will go: she has not come back yet.

I shall follow her.

(Nketia 1955: 200)

Type ‘C dirges are constructed on cumulative linear stanzas, sometimes marked off by a reflection or statement—a simple style often used for ordinary people. Such a dirge might open