In the first year after Odekuro Obenfo Yohani Atta Nikanika died, there arose a new Odekuro named Odekuro Okasafo Yohani Mahani Nikaboka, son of Dramaha, who also was a scribe, an Otwerefuo. Odekuro Nikaboka was said to have a friend from the land beyond the cornfields who was as wise as Solomon.
One day, a messenger went crying in the wilderness, proclaiming this special friendship of the mighty one with the wise one and the magicians of the land and all the citizens rose up with one voice asking to know if this friendship was real or that it existed only in the fertile mind of Amakye the towncrier. When Agari the chief of the Ahenfie scribes was asked to speak to the citizens on behalf of Odekuro on the said matter, Agari decided to speak to the citizens on behalf of Odekuro before speaking to Odekuro to find out what he should say on Odekuro’s behalf.
It came to pass when Agari had spoken to deny any knowledge of Odekuro about the existence even of the temple Solomon built, let alone its builder, there was night and then the day followed.
As each day brings its own wahala, so the next day reveal a new tale from a different tail. Agari the Chief Scribe, having spoken with Odekuro to now ask him what should be said to the magicians and citizens on Odekuro’s behalf on the matter, came back to the market square to deliver another version of the tale of the day before, shifting the direction of the story from north to south.
It was then that Wofa Kapokyikyi said his famous words, that whatever Agari said must be allowed to cook for one day and one night.
Time passed and Odekuro the son of Dramaha continued to rule and Agari continued to grow. Soon, the citizens of Sikaman grew weary of the ways of the son of Dramaha and asked him to go tend to his farms and enjoy his days in the arms of the wife of his youth. In his stead, they anointed and installed Odekuro Odieasem Nana Tutubrofo Dankwawura. There was evening and the morning, a new day.
In the morning of the new day, Odekuro Tutubrofo went out hunting for sub-chiefs and deputies and came back with smaller stools to share amongst the chosen few. As per the practice of the traditional council, the names of the called were submitted for consideration by the sub-council appointed by Abrewa to probe the backgrounds and characters of Odekuro’s called. The vetting council sat day and night to decide which of the called would be chosen, for had it not been said that many would be called but few would be chosen?
Wofa Kapokyikyi had told me years ago that the way from the called to the chosen was through a narrow gate and, sometimes, the called tried to lubricate the narrow gates.
So when yesi-yesi started filtering that Egya Gyarko, son of Boakye (who had been called by Odekuro to man the power house to support the nika-nika of Sikama) had supplied judicious helping of lubricating oil to ease the joints of the members of the vetting sub-council, all ears were itching for the filla. But it turned out that filla no get legs, na Agari dey carry am.
Wofa sent me out to get him the full rundown and I did that with alacrity. I didn’t have to go far. I met Ziboyo behind the Ahenfie and he told me that the summary of the matter is this:
Agari said Munchinga said yesi JoeWise says yesi Egya Gyarko gave JoeWise the lubricating oil to give to Munchinga to give to Agari and his friends so they could keep wide open the narrow gates so Egya Gyarko could pass on to the glory of the chosen few.
A good case study of Yesi-Yesi?
When I told Wofa Kapokyikyi, he repeated that if Agari was involved, then thawing was required. There was evening and the morning, a new day.
In the morning of the new day, JoeWise went shouting from the rooftops that he didn’t give any lubricating oil to Munchinga. The entire village was confused.
When Agari was asked whether he was sure it wasn’t JayWise he was referring to, instead of JoeWise, he clarified that he didn’t deal with JoeWise or JayWise, but rather with Munchinga and that only Munchinga could tell who was the source of the lubricating oil. The chorus was unanimous: “We want Munchinga! We want Munchinga!”
When Munchinga, who had just woken up from a deep sleep and was rushing to a funeral at Ankosia, was asked whether he had received any lubricating oil from JoeWise, he said ‘Walahi-talahi!’ and swore by Allah the Magnificent that he hadn’t even seen lubricating oil in his entire life. The confusion became basaaa!
When Odekuro was informed about the basaacious commotion that was brewing in the Sikamanian pot, he went into a conclave with Abrewa and the Tufuhene. The steaming pots that were brought to the entrance of the Ahenfie, just before the three – Odekuro, Abrewa and Tufuhene – exited from the inner chamber, gave an hint of the decision that had been taken. The Tufuhene confirmed it a few minutes later: a ko-num-tee was set up to drink some tea and deliberate on the palaver.
More thawing time. There were many evenings and many mornings. And market days came and went.
The morning of the new day after many evenings, the verdict of the ko-num-tee was declared to the entire village by Amakye the towncrier, as follows:
The metemetemism of a rumour does not metamorphose a rumour into fact.
The ko-num-tee said Agari had indulged in yesiyesimisms and found him guilty of ko-num-tempt. When I asked Wofa Kapokyikyi what that meant, he said it meant Agari attempted to drink some of the tea from the chambers of the ko-num-tee. I was even more confused.
But just as I tried to seek clarification, Efo Dogbevi, the letter-writer who lives at Anloga, who was passing by, overheard our conversation and asked Wofa Kapokyikyi a question, as follows: “Wofa, if a cat steals fish, another cat accuses him of that act and the accused cat denies it, leading to a committee of fish-loving cats being set up to investigate…do you expect the committee of cats to publish a report that confirms that cats love fish?”
I don’t remember what Wofa Kapokyikyi said in response. What I remember was only that Wofa asked me, when Efo had left, whether Efo was also part of the catholics.
I could only turn to my favourite book: the Book of Nahum. And say hmmm.
Till I come your way again, with some chinginga to soothe my confusion, I remain: