So Great an Announcement

By Kobina Amissah-Fynn

"And yet over there in Bibiriba, against the backdrop of the overcast world situation, there was intense excitement in the air, a strange but tangible expectation that "something" was about to happen soon—perhaps, an announcement that would change the world forever or an occurrence somewhere on the planet that would shake the limbs of people everywhere and arouse them from their slumber."

An interfaith quest to unravel an age-old riddle—the advent of the World Redeemer of the end-times—by an international team of "Gatekeepers", from Africa, the Americas, Asia, Europe, Oceania (of Agnostic, Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim, and Zoroastrian backgrounds), reaches a fascinating, world-embracing climax and attains an unexpected outcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hope Books
• Release date: Jan 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393875307

Book preview

So Great an Announcement

By Kobina Amissah-Fynn

SO GREAT AN ANNOUNCEMENT

Copyright © K. Amissah-Fynn 2018

All Rights Reserved

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This is a work of fiction.  While some true-life religious and historical figures are mentioned in the narrative, the book’s characters are nevertheless fictional and the resemblance of any of them to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Other Books by the Author

Nonfiction:

CHRIST JESUS AND HIS SECOND COMING: According to the Divine Promise and not the Popular Expectation

PLAGUES AND PROMISE LIKE NO OTHER

THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN – in Black and White

THE RAGING SIGNS OF THE TIMES

WHO AM I? The Interrelationships of Body, Soul, Mind, Heart and Spirit

Religious Fiction:

REAWAKENING: A Tale of Death, the Afterlife & a Mission

STEALER OF HEARTS

THE NIGHT OF TRANSITION

THE TRIBULATION

Other Fiction:

VERY SHORT FUNNY STORIES, Vol. I

CONTENTS

1. Chaotic Beginning

2. Of Development and Crime

3. The Missing Component

4. Parallel Expectations

5. A Project Takes Shape

6. Picking up the Pieces

7. The Way and the Manner

8. The Beginning in the End

9. That Day and Hour

10. The Place of Visitation

11. Media Controversy

12. A Worldwide Drive

13. The Bibiriba Phenomenon

14. Family Bereavements

15. Apocalyptic Episodes

16. Some Encounters

17. Commemorative Tributes

18. An Announcement so Great

19. In the Valley of Decision

1. Chaotic Beginning

If anyone had told him that the decision they had taken to settle permanently in Bibiriba would have implications for the spiritual transformation of people everywhere or that it would usher that small, sleepy village of some two hundred inhabitants, in the coastal Central Region of Ghana, into the limelight of world attention, he would have been extremely surprised. The year was 1984, and Kojo Apiata—dark, radiant, clean-shaven and bespectacled—had arrived in the village of Bibiriba from the United States with Sue, his American wife. He had been away for twenty-six years, but was now compelled to visit home to oversee the burial of his father who had succumbed to the effects of old age and had passed away the week before. He could recalled, with some regret, his inability to be present for his mother’s funeral three years earlier. 

Being that of a traditional chief, the funeral of Nana Gyata II was elaborate and full of ceremony, and Sue was engrossed in the goings-on, so unlike anything she had seen. The burial had hardly been completed, however, and the last clod of earth thrown over the coffin when an unusual burst of activity near where she stood with her husband greatly alarmed her. So incomprehensible to her were the rapidly unfolding events around her that she mistook them for a kidnap attempt and began to punch and kick anything in sight in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. For suddenly and unexpectedly, a group of hefty men in traditional clothing had seized Kojo by the arms and legs amid chanting, drumming, dancing and the firing of musketry and, lifting him physically over their shoulders, had begun to move away, half trotting, as her husband struggled fruitlessly to free himself. What confused her even more was to see some whitish powder being lavishly sprinkled over him by some women, as the excited crowd disappeared round the corner in noisy jubilation.

Goodness me! What’s that white stuff? she wailed to no one in particular. Could it... could it be...? 

She was still in a high state of perturbation when a group of women in mourning attire, about seven of them, drew close to her and attempted to calm her down: "Your... your hubby... new chief,  atse a?" one of them attempted to communicate something to her. 

The other women laughed and, speaking in the local Fanti dialect, noisily teased their companion to speak better English next time. 

But Sue was still confused: Isn’t it a bad omen that my husband should be abducted in this manner to see the new chief? But hold on a minute: Which new chief are they talking about? If there really is a new chief, why didn’t Kojo tell me about it? Why wasn’t I introduced to him? Why wasn’t he present at the burial? Why...?

While these thoughts agitated her mind, the presence of the women reassured her somehow, and she allowed herself to be chaperoned by them all the way to the chief’s palace. After agonizing alone for about an hour in the room she shared with her husband at the palace, she was relieved to receive a note from him telling her that all was well, that he was going to be installed as the new chief of Bibiriba in place of his late father, and that in preparation for that occasion he had to be in confinement for a week to allow for certain necessary rituals of a traditional nature to be performed. He encouraged her to relax and enjoy her stay.

Sue survived the week without her husband by becoming engrossed in a book she had bought several years earlier but which, on account of her busy schedule back home, she had been unable to read. All too soon, the day of enstoolment arrived—the day for the installation of the new chief upon his elegantly-carved traditional stool, that unique object that would become one of the unmistakable emblems of his authority and the most important regalia of his office.

The day began very well. The occasion was full of sound and colour, the grounds of the ceremony packed full. Twisting their bodies to the rhythmic sounds emanating from the drummers and singers since the early hours of the morning were various groups of dancers. Chiefs had come from neighbouring districts, each one of them magnificently attired in his beautiful kente cloth and adorned with a rich array of ornaments of pure gold on his arms, around his neck, and even on his feet; and there were sub-chiefs from nearby villages. Also represented at the grounds were ordinary subjects—the young, the old, both male and female—in every kind of attire. 

Kojo Apiata was truly majestic in his full regalia, surrounded by an entourage under the richly decorated pavilion. By his side sat his wife, Sue, looking splendid in traditional attire she had adorned with help from in-laws and maids at the royal palace. The main ceremony had been accomplished and Kojo Apiata, having now acceded to the stool of Bibiriba with the stool name of Nana Kojo Egyir I, was receiving the homage of his subjects when pandemonium broke loose. A large group of angry-looking men, wielding sticks, clubs and other similar instruments, appeared suddenly at the scene, chanting in a manner understood to be hostile, and invaded the grounds of the ceremony. The new chief took a quick glance at the situation and, fearing that stones might start flying around, took Sue by the hand and deserted the grounds in a hurry. Other chiefs abandoned palanquins, large royal ceremonial umbrellas and allied paraphernalia depicting their royal offices and, together with their entourages and subjects, dispersed helter-skelter in all directions. 

Back in the comfort and safety of the dilapidated mud palace, guarded by an asafo company of traditional warriors, Nana Egyir received news some hours later that Kwame Apiata, his elder half-brother, had been behind the disturbances; that one person had died in the mayhem, scores injured and a couple of houses burnt down. It appeared that Kwame Apiata, being the eldest son of the late chief, had been peeved at being overlooked for nomination as the new chief of the village.

Jojo dear, what does being chief of a village really mean in practice? What are the privileges? Sue asked of her husband as they anxiously monitored the situation outside of the palace walls.

It means I’m the custodian of the culture of this place. I hold in trust all the land and resources of this community Through the exercise of  the administrative, judicial, legislative and executive powers vested in me under the traditional setup, I’m obligated to ensure the peace and wellbeing of my people.

How much land do you hold?

Several square kilometres... From the beach just a few metres from here to the highway from where we came is about five kilometres. Across will give us, perhaps, another ten kilometres. That will make about... let me see... fifty square kilometres, if my estimates are correct.

Now, how did you usurp the right of your elder half-brother? 

Oh, but you saw how my installation went! I was never expecting to be enstooled... never! Nor do I even see how we can remain permanently here. My half-brother, Kwame, has never been to school... has never travelled beyond the villages around here. My thought is that he was overlooked by the kingmakers and the queen mother, who together do the selection, probably because they would like to see new things in this place and know that can only happen with a chief who has some education, who has experience of the outside world, and all the rest of it... you know what I mean. In any case my enstoolment cannot be considered irregular since Kwame and I are from different mothers... Our household was polygamous, you know that... And even the queen mother happens to be his own mother.

Kojo went on to explain how inconvenient it was going to be for him in his new role anyway, stressing that after they had returned to the States, he would need to make arrangements to come back often, for prolonged stays, to look after the affairs of his people. To Sue’s question, he clarified that Kwame did not have an education only because he spent all his time in the village, while he Kojo was fortunate to have left Bibiriba to live with a maternal uncle in Sekondi who took care of his education. It was on the basis of a scholarship he received that he left in 1958 to study Nutritional Science in the States, as she had already heard him explain on several occasions.

Three days had passed after the disturbances and the village was still in a state of tension. Kojo, confused about what should be done, had had enough of it and was anxious to return to the States. Surprisingly, Sue seemed quite relaxed and not as concerned as he was.

Choochoo, he called her by the pet name he had given her. It’s time for us to return home. I’m fed up with this situation.

I hope you’re not abdicating.

Um... I’ve not said that, have I? But come to think of it, what else can one do in an environment so hostile? And Bibiriba, after all, is such a tiny village, such an insignificant place. Does my enstoolment justify the death of one person and injuries to others? No, I don’t think so. After a long pause he continued, We should be leaving at the weekend. I shall explain my position to the village elders.

But would they accept it if you told them you wished to abdicate?

Highly unlikely... They would probably advise me to reconsider. If I should abdicate, which I’ve not yet decided to do, I’d rather do so when we are safely back home. 

After a pause, he turned to his wife: When are you going to begin packing?

What he received for an answer was complete silence. A quick glance at her convinced him that Sue was not keen on leaving. Don’t you want to go home? he asked in surprise.

No, let’s spend the rest of our life here, she murmured tearfully. 

The response hit Kojo like a thunderbolt. His jaw dropped. What? But Jason is still there! he reminded her of their twenty-year-old son. What about our jobs?

Oh, Jojo, you know that Jason’s in college and can take care of himself. As for our jobs, we can do without them, can’t we? I mean... I mean, we should be able to manage here, shouldn’t we?

Kojo was getting irritated and a bit worried—worried that his beloved wife was going crazy. Why else would she want to abandon a wonderful life in the Land of Promise for a hostile, remote, sleepy village on the shores of Ghana—a village that was frozen in time, its inhabitants so steeped in tradition, poverty and ignorance that even he, born and partly-bred here, had a cultural shock when they first arrived two weeks before? 

Woman, I’m no fisherman or farmer and don’t know how to survive here, Kojo blurted out, trying to suppress in his voice the anger that was simmering within him. We have no choice; we have to go!

I do not wish to go anywhere! Sue shot back in as polite a voice as she could muster.

Kojo realized at that point that he definitely had a problem on his hands, and it would not help to be angry or argumentative. Rather, he would have to be tactful and conciliatory and attempt to reason with his wife. 

Choochoo, he began, I don’t know what your fascination with Bibiriba is, but there’s very little to occupy our time here. The place is tiny, some of the people are visibly hostile and, in their desperation, may not hesitate to visit violence on innocent people. Already one person’s dead and a number injured. I do not wish to be labelled as an African leader who will go to any length to be in power. All life is sacred... One person killed for the stool of this village is one person too many. That’s why I wish us to leave so that further bloodshed may be averted and my conscience remain clear. Come to think of it, I’m now convinced I should even abdicate outright.

On the contrary, Sue responded, to abandon Bibiriba at this time... in its hour of need... will be a disservice to the injured, to those who have lost homes, and will do nothing to honour the memory of the deceased. It’s precisely because of the unfortunate death and injuries that I believe we should stay. 

But Sue, haven’t you been following the news concerning so many of the intractable wars in Africa? The underlying reason for the prolongation of most of these wars is intransigence on all sides. People...

But my dear, I’m not asking you to be intransigent. See... When innocent bystanders, engaged in their legitimate concerns, are caught up in incidents such as we witnessed and are made to endure extreme sacrifices, huh?... deaths, injuries... the ultimate outcome for them needs to be good enough to alleviate their sorrow and compensate in a way for their losses. Just imagine, if we should go back home and your half-brother accedes to the stool, he would have done so through violence, would have alienated a good section of the population, would most likely be unable to improve the appalling conditions in this village, and the situation of the people would be worse than before, their suffering unduly prolonged. That would mean that our coming only brought death, injuries, burnt homes, resentment... division in the community! But if we should stay and succeed in improving the conditions of life here, that would be adequate compensation for the sufferings caused, wouldn’t it?

Sue proceeded to explain how she thought Kojo should approach the disaffected faction, make reasonable concessions to them, attempt to elevate their vision to see the kinds of development that would follow in the village, solicit their wholehearted cooperation so they would be happy to be part of a new dispensation in Bibiriba. Those who had suffered some disadvantages or injury during the disturbances, she further explained, could be approached as well and reasonable compensation offered them.

If you approach your own half-brother in sincerity and friendship and show genuine love, affection and empathy, she stressed, "you’ll be surprised at the positive response you’ll receive from him and his supporters. And that is what will ultimately seal your legacy here, not as a chicken—and do excuse my language—but a real champion, a great conqueror... a conqueror of hearts."

Kojo was pleasantly surprised by his wife’s wisdom and composure. She seemed so comfortable, so relaxed in the tense environment, so much in control of the situation. He could recall how back home in the States they would argue needlessly about almost everything; but here she was—so sincere, so passionate, so authentic not to mention persuasive, in the way she put across her argument. Knowing her very well, he was sure she had seen or experienced something in Bibiriba that had touched her so deeply and left such a lasting impression on her she was ready to give up everything to remain permanently in the village. Only he could not put his finger on what that something might be.

Nana Kojo Egyir I, new chief of Bibiriba, agreed to go along with the suggestion of his wife, Sue, which meant remaining with his subjects in Bibiriba and preoccupying himself with their welfare. And that was how negotiations were initiated between the elders of the village, on behalf of the chief, and Kwame Apiata and his chief supporters, until genuine reconciliation had been achieved and the authority of the new chief acknowledged. Kwame Apiata, in particular, was very profuse in his apologies to Nana and his wife. He had been genuinely won over by the positive manner in which the chief’s elders had engaged his team, the concessions that had been made, and the promises of development that had been proposed—development that would cover such areas as the provision of electricity and good drinking water, and the building of roads, a school, a hospital, all within the next ten years, and with that the concomitant prospect of improved economic opportunity for everyone in Bibiriba.

When normalcy was restored soon after and Nana Egyir assumed full authority in his backwater chiefdom with Sue, his American consort, by his side, he was fully conscious that his work for the next decade had been fully cut out for him. Sue for her part was overjoyed that the couple could remain in Bibiriba and dedicate themselves to the welfare of the inhabitants.

2. Of Development and Crime

Mrs. Sue Johnston Apiata, originally from Denver, Colorado, in the United States of America, who now found herself the consort of the chief of Bibiriba, was, at about one metre seventy, as tall as her husband but slightly less built. She was forty-three years of age, three years younger than her husband, but the streaks of white hair on the front part of her head, intertwined with her natural brown hair, made her look slightly older than she really was even as they gave her a regal look. She liked to dress simply, but only on very rare occasions would she be found outdoors in daylight without her dark glasses. 

Sue could not be described as a typical white American. At an early age, she found herself with strong negritude sympathies and always had a strange fascination with Africa, the so-called Dark Continent. Perhaps, it was her desire to unravel the soul of Africa that had drawn her close to Kojo Apiata while both were studying at a university in Colorado—she pursuing a course in Town Planning while he studied Nutritional Science. Her friendship with Kojo meant a loss of many of her good friends, but their love affair blossomed, especially when her mother did not disapprove of it and her father, after some hesitation, gave her his blessing. Mr. Walter Johnston, her father, confessed sometime later that he had initially been prejudiced against his daughter’s admirer because of his colour, but when he found how smart Kojo was after a short interaction with him, his attitude changed and he and his future son-in-law became great pals. The couple were married soon after that stage was reached—a marriage which had lasted, in spite of many challenges, for twenty-one years. Their only son, Jason, now twenty years of age, was pursuing a college education in New York City where the family had been living for the past ten years. 

As soon as they were fully settled as the first couple of Bibiriba, which was soon after the tense situation in the village had subsided, Sue advised her husband to pursue a development agenda for the village that would revolve around four broad areas: agriculture and fisheries, health and nutrition, education for both children and adults, and wealth for all. 

By the tenth anniversary of Nana Egyir’s reign as chief of Bibiriba, substantial development had been achieved in the village and in the surrounding area. Right at the outset, it was decided to run Bibiriba and its endowments as a business. The Bibiriba Trust was registered as a business entity and non-partisan elections were organized yearly in the village to choose the directors who would assist the chief in running it. Apart from these elected directors of the Bibiriba Trust working with the chief in the area of development, there were the village elders whose customary role was that of advising the chief on all matters traditional or social. But the participation of the population in the affairs of the village was not limited only to the elections. Once every month, they would gather in the Village Hall, built in the fourth year of Nana Egyir’s reign, to receive reports from the directors of the Bibiriba Trust about significant achievements in the Trust’s ventures and to contribute their own ideas or express their concerns for consideration.

A bank account was opened for the Trust and simple monthly financial statements displayed in the Village Hall for those interested in the profit and loss situation of the business. Everyone in the village had a share, in one form or other, in the profit that accrued from the venture and, therefore, everyone was obliged to contribute towards the tax system that had been set up, be it in cash or in kind. Voluntary contributions were also encouraged.

Amongst the first things that were done during Nana Egyir’s reign was the establishment of a proper primary school to cater for the educational needs of the children, both boys and girls. To Sue, education was the single most important determinant of how fast and sustainably a community developed. She would often remark: Depriving children of education in any part of the world is one of the more grievous abuses of human rights. It should not happen in the twentieth century.

She urged Nana Egyir to ensure that girls were as much involved in the educational programme as the boys, pointing out that educated mothers were the greatest asset in any family or community.

By the tenth year, a well-run junior secondary school was operational in Bibiriba, and the setting up of the senior level was already well underway. An adult education programme for both men and women was vigorously pursued in the same period, and by the end of the decade, many of the adults of the village could read and write. But the programme was not limited only to reading and writing: lessons were also given on such themes as nutrition, hygiene, sanitation and refuse disposal, the environment, and good farming practices. 

A clinic was started in the village and by the tenth year had expanded to become a small hospital attending to patients from the village and neighbouring communities. 

The attention paid to the farmers and the fishermen was no less significant. The increased yield from the agricultural and fishing activities of the inhabitants enabled the Bibiriba Trust to augment its capital by buying directly from the farmers and fisherman and reselling further afield through the Trust’s own established channels. 

A water purification system was set up that drew water from the nearby river and pumped it, after purification, into houses in the village. An electricity station, with its electrical generators, was gradually put in place to supply homes and businesses with their electrical needs. Later, Bibiriba was connected to the national grid, but the village’s electrical station was retained as a back-up. A five-kilometre stretch of good road was built to connect the village to the main highway linking the national capital, Accra, to the Regional capital, Cape Coast, and beyond. The Trust acquired a vehicle to be used in conveying people and goods to and from the village.

These developments greatly enhanced the empowerment of the individuals and the community. The standard of life of the inhabitants saw substantial improvements, something that was evident in the better quality housing that started appearing in the village and the number of bicycles and motor-bikes that plied the dusty lanes. A consequence of these developments was that people from other parts of the country were attracted to come in increasing numbers to settle in Bibiriba.

As a trained nutritionist, Nana Egyir would from time to time teach nutrition at the adult education classes in the village. He also got the Bibiriba Trust to import wheat for use in baking whole wheat bread for sale. It was the milling of whole wheat flour in the village that resulted in a real breakthrough for the Bibiriba Trust and became its flagship enterprise. Soon, bakers and entrepreneurs from around the country were trooping to Bibiriba for freshly milled whole wheat flour, milled according to their precise orders. This turn of events brought some recognition to Bibiriba. The movement of vehicles from different parts of the Region to purchase fresh whole wheat flour meant more diversified businesses for the Trust and for the inhabitants as well. Soon a petrol station had opened close to the highway. A supermarket, a mechanical workshop, a bank, restaurants and chop bars, even a hotel, and other businesses also popped up in response to the growing traffic and increased migration. Carpentry workshops opened, masons and plumbers moved in. A building boom, by Bibiriba standard, had begun. 

During all this period, Sue was closely involved with the developments in the village—inspecting projects, giving advice, encouraging the women and giving support to her husband. She appreciated her husband and enjoyed supporting his efforts, but she also had her own special interest, which was to plan the use of the land attached to the Bibiriba stool. She got the land all surveyed and a scheme for the regulated development of the property designed. The area where the bulk of the village houses stood, together with the farms, she referred to as the Old Quarter. She demarcated a New Quarter for the construction of modern buildings and assigned areas for a sports field, a forest reserve, roads, parks, gardens and fountains, etc.  She prepared design drawings to demonstrate the look of the land when fully developed. She encouraged the gradual development of the gardens and fountains as funds became available, explaining that the beauty of the property would attract tourists and beach-lovers from other parts of the country thus adding to the economic activity of the village.

As the various schemes and projects were being implemented, everyone in the village seemed reasonably happy and contented, and Nana Egyir received the adulation and appreciation of his subjects. The growth in the population and in the number of businesses and service providers was accompanied by an increase in the number of churches. A mosque also appeared in the village for the first time. 

Unfortunately, not all features of the unfolding developments were positive. It soon became evident that as the wealth of the inhabitants grew so did the level of vice and crime increase in the village. Complaints about corruption began to be ventilated by workers. Embezzlement of funds at the workplaces became rampant. Even strikes and demonstrations were seen for the first time in the village. Wife battering and family break-ups, drunkenness (influenced by diverse social factors), prostitution and all manner of vices were becoming commonplace. To add to the problem, there was a rise in the level of insecurity in the village, and every now and then a report would be received of someone being mugged or a house being broken into.

These unforeseen negative trends began to cast a long shadow over the pace of development, and Nana Egyir was obliged to raise the issue at one of the monthly meetings at the Village Hall. He appealed to his subjects: If we all do the right thing, there would be further developments and everyone would benefit and be happy. If we allow a few unscrupulous people to disturb what we are doing, however, the pace of development would slow down, and only the rascals would benefit while the rest suffer. The breakthrough we see in the development of this village would only have proven to be a false dawn if things don’t change... If one person decides to cheat, or to abuse what belongs to everybody, or to steal what belongs to someone else, or to do things that lower the dignity of himself or of someone else, or to violate civil or traditional laws, the whole community suffers. The criminals should remember this when they decide to misbehave!

Nana Egyir’s long-winded intervention seemed to have paid dividend, as for a while the worst of the abuses did abate. But the age-old cultural norms of honesty, trustworthiness, chastity and of respect for the rights of others appeared to be steadily waning, and soon it became evident that all was not that well in Bibiriba any longer. People began to decry their powerlessness in the face of crime which was becoming ever more brazen.

It was no longer a matter of debate: The innocence of Bibiriba was now lost forever!

3. The Missing Component

"Spirituality must be part of the vocabulary of development," the woman firmly asserts. 

This is Mama Mansa who has come to the royal palace to see the chief. A widow in her sixties, she resettled permanently in Bibiriba, her home village, two years ago after retirement from professional work as a civil servant in Ofinso and Bekwai. She has just raised the issue of crime in the village with Nana Egyir and has not minced her words in telling him that in her opinion, the crime is being fuelled by the lack of any spiritual considerations in the development programme being pursued in the village. This has drawn a protest from Nana Egyir who has retorted that he is being unfairly blamed for the problems that have arisen. His development agenda is essential for improving the social and economic life of the population, he tells her, and he does not see how spirituality has anything to do with it. 

Mama Mansa is not impressed by his arguments, however. She tells him that she had been visiting Bibiriba regularly all through her professional life, and though the village had lacked amenities in those days, no one ever heard of a break-in, and most residents did not even bother to lock their doors at all, whether they were at home or not. Now, development has come to the village accompanied by crime. As far as she is concerned, development needs to go hand in hand with spirituality. 

Except the Lord build the house, she points out, quoting Psalm 127:1, they labour in vain that build it.  Mama Mansa pauses, waiting for Nana Egyir’s response, which never comes. And because he does not respond, she is not sure if her arguments are making an impression on him.

Spirituality will be the foundation upon which this enterprise will either succeed or fail. Nana, please do not ignore this reality, she stresses, trying for the last time to press home her point and make an impact on him before asking permission to leave.

But Mama Mansa’s words had had an effect on Nana Egyir. Her concluding words continued to ring in his ears for weeks afterwards:  Spirituality will be the foundation upon which this enterprise will either succeed or fail.

But what does that really mean in practice? he kept asking himself. When he consulted his wife, she told him that perhaps what Mama Mansa meant was that the population needed to be educated to fear God and to employ in their daily lives such ethical considerations as kindness, generosity, truthfulness, trustworthiness, willingness to sacrifice for the common good, preparedness to share, especially with the less privileged, etc., as such qualities were indispensable for sustained growth in the local economy. 

After further reflections on the matter, Nana Egyir decided to call on the pastors in the village