Dear Nyaba,

As I dip the tip of the wooden stick into the ink to write to you, I am simultaneously filled with a huge dose of excitement and a feeling of embarrassment. On the first market day after the white man’s new year, and exactly a full moon after the thumb printing festival, to select a new national chief, the people of our chiefdom met at the village square to enthrone the new national chief and enthrone his deputy. 

The village square was adorned with the colours that symbolize the unity of our chiefdom. All the clan heads were there in their full regalia. The supporters of the Elephant clan to which the new national chief belongs were also there in their colours and numbers as they sang songs of victory much to the discomfort of the Umbrella clan. But that did not stop members of the umbrella clan from attending the quadrennial ceremony. They too were there in their numbers.

All the surviving national chiefs were there – the very fair former soldier, the very tall lawyer and the very handsome communicator who had until only a day before, been sitting on the national throne – they were all there.  Nyaba, our neighbours from different parts of the land of black people sent their national chiefs to witness the enthronement.

Nyaba, on that occasion, it was as if the “gods” of our chiefdom had themselves come down in the company of all our ancestors to ensure that everything went as planned. The drummers drummed their hearts out, the singers sang melodiously and the dancers danced away all in great excitement. Perhaps, throughout the history of the land of black people, never have such scenes, as was seen on the day of the enthronement of a new chief, ever been seen before. When all the surviving national chiefs stepped up to shake hands with the new national chief, when the man from Bole, who had until the cock crowed that morning, been occupying the national throne, said something to the new national chief and they both broke into an exciting laughter, when the new deputy national chief who had before the thumb printing festival, challenged the then deputy national chief to answer some 170 questions, smiled and warmly greeted and exchanged pleasantries and even gave the daughter of the former national chief’s father-in-law a warm embrace, I knew that our chiefdom had successfully begun to once again show the rest of the land of black people how to adopt the white man’s way of selecting national chiefs!

Nyaba, when the new national chief rose up to address the people for the very first time, he spoke like a chief. He paid homage to the chiefs before him and acknowledged their contribution to the growth of our chiefdom. He promised to protect the national cowries from thieves and looters. He appealed to the people to be “citizens, not spectators: citizens not subjects”. He said “The change we have voted for has to start with each individual. I ask you to be responsible citizens”.  He also said “It is time to define what being a Ghanaian ought to mean. Being a Ghanaian must mean you sign up to a definable code of conduct”.

He also said, “We should learn and accept that we do not own the land, but hold it in trust for future generations”. He then said “State coffers are not the spoils for victorious political parties. I promise to protect the public purse”.

Nyaba, after these words, the people of the land founded by Nkrumah and his peers, went home full of excitement and optimism that there was light at the end of the tunnel. That excitement was, however, short-lived as before the sun went down, it emerged that some of the things our national chief said in his maiden address to the people of our land had already been said by some national chiefs to their own people.

Nyaba, in our oral traditions, when a man speaks words that are originally not his, he makes references to those who first uttered those words. In cases where one isn’t sure of the particular originator of the “wise words”, one still must make an acknowledgement by saying that it is the “elders who said it”. In this case, when our new national chief spoke and used words that had previously been uttered by some other national chiefs of other chiefdoms in the past, he did not acknowledge that those words had been “borrowed” he did not also say that “it is the elders who say”……. Nyaba, in the white man’s way of learning, this is called dishonesty, and in some cases, stealing.

Ever since the incident, the national chief’s chief linguist at the moment, has come and apologised for what he called “forgetfulness”. But that apology will not be taken lying down by some people, many of whom belong to the umbrella clan. Some of them see this “copy copy: talk by the national chief as the perfect opportunity to hit back at those who for several years referred to many of those who worked with the immediate past national chief as “ babies with sharp teeth”. They quickly remarked that “babies with lazy brains had taken over from babies with sharp teeth”.

Nyaba, the accusers today, were the defenders of yesterday. When they were on the defensive for four years, they complained of feeling insulted when such references were made. What happened to principle? And to those who now are on the defensive, do you see how it feels like to feel insulted? Can we belong to our various clans – umbrella or elephant- without insults?

What the new national chief and his elders should note is that they, while in opposition, taught us how to be vigilant. They taught us how to scrutinize and expose wrong. They taught us how not to forget easily. They taught us how to develop eagle eyes. And learn, we did. We have taken it a step further, in addition to the eagle eye, the people of our chiefdom may have also developed owl eyes in order to see at night. We have developed cat eyes in order to see but not be seen, and we have also developed parrot ears, no gossip, no drop of a pin even at rush hour in Makola can escape our hearing. This incident might just be the wake-up call even before you fall asleep!!

Nyaba, for me, the saddest part of my day was how the gossips from other chiefdoms and kingdoms reported this matter. It appears as though for them, no news is news from the land of the black people until it is negative, controversial, or bloody.

Very little was said about our thumb printing exercise because perhaps, there was not much to gossip to the rest of the world about. 

They were perhaps even saddened by the fact there was nothing negative. We did not present them with their desired headlines. But like a famished lion hunting hopelessly for prey, we presented ourselves, fully served, garnished, and with an irresistible aroma. So the lions pounced on us and are currently devouring us with the excuse that our national chief “stole” some words from their former national chiefs.

I am also waiting to see and to hear if they will ever “gossip” to the rest of the world about how their former national chiefs helped to “steal” our development from us – of how their chiefs “stole” our resources.

In the meantime, our elders say “There are two kinds of pride, both good and bad. 'Good pride' represents our dignity and self-respect. 'Bad pride' is the deadly sin of superiority that reeks of conceit and arrogance”. Our new national chief and his elders must know that for the next four yam festivals, our dignity as a chiefdom lies in their hands. We cannot forgive them if they show us any indignity again.