The Crumbling Heritage: New Edition

By R. Yelbeck

The Kingdom of Gantala, steeped in tradition, has untapped wealth of natural resources. Hopeful for a better life, the Kingdom looks to ‘strangers’ for progress. Such progress inevitably creates a wealth of problems, problems which become so chronic that they require nothing short of a miracle as a cure.

The Crumbling Heritage is a powerful novel that explores the catastrophic effect of colonialism, where changing customs and traditions in quest of modernisation results in breakdown of the moral, social, economic, and political structures. “A change is good if it provides avenues for human progress for a better life but not human destruction of a good life.”

Cleverly interweaving fact with fiction, R. Yelbeck weaves a tale rich in political and historical overtones, a subtle reminder that there will ultimately be a day of retribution! It is an absorbing story which deals with a subject whose impact still reverberates in the world today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398487482

R. Yelbeck

R. Yelbeck is a Ghanaian-born British citizen who lives in the UK. Though relatively unknown to the literary world, he is a writer in his own right. It is often said, “Never judge a book by its cover.” Though so, most readers tend to be attracted to an appealing title than its author. But no book, except academic book, should be judged by the author’s credentials; otherwise, the reader falls victim to ‘credential bias’, thus affecting judgment. After all, if a tree can be judged by its fruit, authors must be judged by their novels. Therefore, I hope after reading The Crumbling Heritage, the reader has an informed opinion of R. Yelbeck—may the judgement rest with you. But l hope you will enjoy it. Thank you for choosing The Crumbling Heritage.

Book preview

Prologue

They want to help us make crooked paths straight;

they want to help us widen our narrow roads;

they want to replace human effort with something else;

they want our children to learn to read and write;

they want to help us make proper use of the wealth of our land.

They want to help us BUILD A BETTER KINGDOM

Development! Development! Development!

Dear Reader,

Human Development

Sociological Development

Economic Development

Religious Development

Political Development

Academic Development

Scientific Development

Technological Development

Military Development

Development! Development! Development!

Dear Reader,

Transformation Development:

From an Ancient Man into a Modern Man;

From a Primitive Society to a Civilised Society;

From a Thrifty Man into Extravagant Man;

From Polytheism to Monotheism;

From Ignorance to Knowledge;

From the Whys to the Reasons;

From Human Effort to Machine Effort;

From Bows and Arrows to Guns and Bullets.

Development! Development! Development!

Dear Reader,

The Queen jumped for Development

The Nobles jumped for Development

The Chiefs jumped for Development

The Natives jumped for Development

Everyone jumped for Development

They opened their Arms and received them

They opened their Hearts and received them

They opened their Secrets and received them

They opened their Wealth and received them

They opened their Land and received them

They opened their Will and received them

But the Strangers! Strangers! Strangers!

Dear Reader, Oh! The Strangers.

Their Promises! Promises! Promises!

Of development, development, development

Were Castles! Castles! Castles!

In the Air!

They robbed them of their Land

They robbed them of their Wealth

They robbed them of their Secrets

They robbed them of their Hearts

They robbed them of their Arms

They robbed them of their Will

Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!

Dear Reader, freedom

The Scholars cried for Freedom!

The Natives cried for Freedom!

Freedom from the Colonialist!

Freedom from the Imperialist!

Freedom from the Capitalist!

Freedom from their Big Brothers

Freedom from their Masters

Freedom from their Teachers

Freedom from the ALABASTER MAN!

FREEDOM AT THE CROSSROADS!

Crossroads! Crossroads! Crossroads!

Dear Reader, freedom at the Crossroads.

They took the Road,

Back to Tradition

Back to Customs

Back to Self-Development

Back to Aflikan Personality

Back to Aflikan Unity

Back to Aflikan Civilisation.

NO! NO! NO!

Dear Reader,

NO! Said the Neo-Colonialist

NO! Said the Imperialist

NO! Said the Capitalist

NO! Said the Alabaster Man

NO! Said their Big Brothers

NO! Said the Middle Class

NO! Said the Professionals

NO! SAID THE SOLDIERS.

NO! they said.

WHY NO?

Dear Reader,

The resultant effect of this ‘NO’ is what you are about to witness. It is a sad account of a nation designed and divided against herself. A sad account of a Nation in a desperate struggle to free herself from the shackles of imperialism, neo-colonialism and capitalism which threaten her traditional structures and survival. The nationalistic struggle by her children to maintain their sovereignty. The patriotic struggle to love and cherish their customs and traditions. And their painful struggle to enhance the dignity of the Ebony man in a world divided by human complexion. It is a sad account of what a combination of constant military interventionism and mismanagement has done to a small, wealthy country—pinning from economic, social and political decadence.

It’s sad, dear Reader.

It is a sad account of what selfishness can do, and what the greed of the Developed Nations (ex-colonisers), has done to a nation and her sister nations, forged into such extreme misery and poverty-stricken states, that BREAD should be so dear, and FLESH and BLOOD so cheap. And that death should become a refuge for survival.

It’s equally sad that CIVILISATION should become an ambiguous term defined according to one’s position in a world which is becoming more and more uncivilised—in proportion to Materialistic Development.

It’s pathetic that hypocrisy should flirt with religion to create chaos instead of order.

It’s sad that the Developed countries with all their KNOWLEDGE and the Underdeveloped countries with all their RESOURCES can’t be combined to make a BETTER world.

Dear Reader,

These are but a few sad facts of what is called modern civilisation. A civilisation without humanisation.

However, if you intend to read on, you’ll be going through the pages of the Past into the Present. But the Future, whether near or far, of this nation, is left to the BIG THREE to decide, and for you to contemplate.

But for her children, it will remain a desperate and painful struggle to rehabilitate their CRUMBLING HERITAGE under continuous external vandalism.

R. Yelbeck

Chapter 1

My mother groan’d, my father wept into the dangerous world I leapt.

– W. Blake

Bygones, bygone days of the past, during the metallurgical period of homo sapiens. In the midst of changing faces of time, as the old spat out the new; empires gave birth to empires, kingdoms to kingdoms. The ancient world was trembling under the yoke of her offspring, whose flesh was iron and whose veins flowed with oil. In his right hand was the gun which subdued the bows and arrows; and, in his left was a book, said to hold the key to life eternal. He preached virtue and practised vice; destroying ancient superstitions and revealing modern superstitions of theories and suppositions; destroying idols of the ancient and building idols of the modern. Condemning the gods of the old and revering the gods of science. He was the prophet of modern civilisation, who brought about the inevitability of change wherever he went—it was a real iron age!

Surrounded by a panic-stricken world of controversies and contradictions; change or be changed; there, in the heart of the world laid an unknown sub-planet, quiet like an undisturbed pond, content like innocence, mysterious in existence, black as ebony—in the bosom of the gods.

Then, one cool but dry morning when the inhabitants of the land were out on their farms; the young men whistled as they hoed, the woman sang as they sowed. The birds sang their songs of melody. Altogether they filled the peaceful and friendly environment with the happy songs of contented souls. All had been well since the inhabitants found their land of ‘corn and wine’. Content with their lot, they allowed progress to dawn on them like daybreak—it was so normal and so natural as the people allowed nature to take her own course in the same way she nurtured their crops for them. They were patient like farmers and could wait and never be tired of waiting. They admired the beauty of nature and were thankful to their creator. The infinite silence of their creator might have caused them some anxiety. The flashing of lightning and the roaring of thunder might have terrified them; yet, they believed, as god-loving, god-serving and god-fearing creatures that beyond the great bright sky above, sat a supreme God of infinite power and wisdom who made the rain to quench the thirst of the dry land beneath and made their crops to grow. They looked up at the sun and remembered him; they looked up at the moon at night shining with all its splendour and brightness and remembered him. To them, it was a joy to be alive—alive and well in an unsophisticated, pure and fresh environment; they were at peace with themselves. For inner peace radiates outer peace to all around.

Then suddenly, I say suddenly, there were some movements through the grass thicket. Movements though not unusual but these were so unusual and alarming—for only strange things take strange paths. The melody stopped to be followed by the flapping of wings from the direction as if fleeing from something terrible. All creatures were alerted, and eyes focussed in that direction. The tense atmosphere made the cool breeze turn chilly and from it came a voice, Something is happening out there, what it is we got to beware.

The women quickly took cover, and the children ran after them.

Stop, children! What is that sound? Something else is coming through.

The men braved the impending danger as the movements drew closer to the boundary of the farm. They got themselves prepared for the worst. With clubs, bows and arrows, axes, hoes and cutlasses, they armed themselves in case it turned nasty. Whatever it was, was now emerging into the open space and there they were at last, soaked in the morning dew; five of them. They had walked quite a distance. Their leader suddenly caught sight of the inhabitants in their positions and got startled then halted his followers to stand still. Silence inevitably dominated the scene except for a dog which kept barking at a safe distance from the intruders. The birds however, quickly resumed their musical roles unconcerned, after few moments of interruption. No one was making any move that could be misjudged. Separated by a distance of about 160 MS*, the two parties kept gazing at each other and wondering what the other might do next. Unfortunately, the intruders were also armed in their own way; well dressed like ‘soldiers going to war’. They wore some sort of hard looking hats on their heads to match the colour of their uniform. The crown of the hat looked like large well moulded calabash with a nice visible nipple at the top. The oval shaped rim of the hat was rather wide round the crown; enough to easily concealed the eyes and nose at the slightest bend of the head forward. Their hands were equally covered in a sort of brown looking material. In fact, every part of their bodies was well covered up except their faces. The young cassava and corn plants were not tall enough to conceal the astounded parties who were conspicuously displayed.

The difference in appearance might have immensely amazed the intruders but the inhabitants were unmoved. For the wealth of their kingdom had drawn all kinds of skin colour from the four corners of the world for trade—ranging from the darkest to the lightest. The two parties stared and stared at each other, when suddenly, the long uninhibited silence was broken by a young man who walked into a thatched roof large round adobe hut smouldering with smoke at the entrance and came out with a calabash in both hands. He walked halfway towards the strangers, looked at them as if to say welcome, then deposited it on the ground and walked majestically back to his people to await the results of his instant brave deed. Consequently, the leader of the intruders felt it would be unwise to prolong matters; he therefore took one step, two steps, three steps, stopped and looked back at his people to be sure he was braving it alone; then advanced his steps towards the calabash. He looked at the contents for a moment before picking it up with both hands and returned to his people cautiously. After having had a sip, he passed it on to the next and soon the calabash was empty. Within those tense moments, life had gradually returned to normal in the out sketches of the farm. Except those directly involved in the ordeal, everything else was doing business as usual. The women were still in their supposedly safe positions, while popping their heads at intervals to catch a glance at the intruders who were becoming welcome strangers and strangers who might even become guests—only heaven knew what they would become next. The leader said something after collecting the empty calabash; then, a bag was opened and the contents emptied into it. What can that be, the natives wondered. When it was almost full, the leader deposited it in like manner as before. The young man came forward to pick it up but stopped. He returned with a second person, who looked more senior to examine the contents of the calabash. He looked at it, then up at the strange faces and his companion and smiled. The leader returned the friendly smile, bowed to his colleagues, bade them to do likewise. Finally, they left.

As the strangers left the scene, they again disturbed the peace of the harmless environment; and the further they went, the more peaceful it was behind them. One could tell whether they were actually going away or stopping to watch how the inhabitants would react towards their gift. But they were ever so cautious and never sneaked back for any reason—lest the flapping wings betrayed them. It was safe for the women and children to come out of their hiding places and joined the rest who were curiously examining the contents one by one, wondering what they were. The women were beautifully dressed in long colourful skirts made of cotton, whilst revealing the upper part of their bodies, full of the potential of womanhood. Upon their chest were projected pairs of succulent breasts which their babies had tried unsuccessfully to diminish their sensuality. Around their necks were beautiful golden necklaces with pairs of matching earrings dangling with bodily movements. Their wrists and ankles wore some shiny golden bangles. Behind those beautiful smiling faces were love, happiness and security in their small world of blessed ignorance. The men were equally nicely covered up below the abdomen, with a woven cotton material that looked like shorts which appeared to be held in position by a beautiful ornamental belt-like cloth which glittered in the sun. Only the young man and the senior man wore thin golden bangles on both ankles and on their left wrists. These bangles nearly made the eyes of the strangers pop out.

Naturally, one has to be careful about the gifts of strangers, strangers whose skin looked like that of a new born baby on whom the scorching sun never shone, remarked the senior man.

When they were satisfied that the contents never resisted nor bit their curious fingers, the young man said, Let us take it home and show it to mother." Having said that he led the way, followed by a couple of kids, two women and three men in a single file.

Generally, they were all young men and women who were less travelled in a society which had been in close contact with outsiders both near and far. Their family had won the love and respect of many tribes and kingdoms for decades because of the late King Gana, the founder of the Gantala Kingdom. He was believed to have been to the Far East and it could be true. Being so obsessed with travelling, he hadn’t the urge to have an early marriage. For this reason, he married only when he was about to settle down and enjoy his large wealth of cattle, sheep, goats, and a few horses and camels, which he inherited from his parents. And they were normally taken care of by family friends and servants who dealt with his domestic problems in his absence. He was also rich in gold, diamonds and other precious stones of human interest. Besides, he was a collector of art of different cultures and traditions, among such collections were silver coins, roman coins, sculptures and artefacts of Egipit, Indie and some other nations. He entrusted this huge treasure box to his adopted parents, the Tiza family, whom his late father had asked to take custody of young Gana (The Brave Warrior) and his widow. Unfortunately, Gana’s mother, Cheleema died just when he was about to start his travelling-cum-trading profession.

Eventually, when Gana was about to settle down, he was advised to get married to cut down his long chain of hungry, beautiful maidens who were competing neck to neck with gifts of all kinds to be Gana’s first wife. And this Gana did. He married a prudent and sweet young woman beyond the circle of the contenders, some of whom became his concubines. Gana wasn’t looking for beauty or ugliness, he was after a complete blend of the two, which he found in Amiima. So Gana had finally made his choice and was as contented as the one upon whom he cast his lot. He hated publicity of any kind, for this reason, the wedding was quiet, though celebrative and flamboyant in accordance with custom.

One day, Gana decided to move completely out of his inhospitable dwellings and find a new habitation. When all his friends, concubines, servants, earthly goods and some other clans who cared to join them were ready, the couple mounted their horses and led the way to an unpromised land. For many market weeks and moons, the journey went on. It was as if he was determined to see the end of the earth and he surely did. Nevertheless, his long experience in travelling had given him a keen sense of direction and the ability to spot the right place at the right time. He settled on no-man’s land, not very far from the great sea below. It was a hilly and semi-forested land in the heart of the jungle. Much of the forest was up the hills. The party was very pleased with their newfound land as every clan was shown an area on which to settle. They were interspersed on various parts of the land covering a rather large area, which would take only the sound of drums to cover.

Gana established himself right in the centre of the land on top of a hill, surrounded by his people. This was the beginning of a new era and the end to Gana’s travels. It wasn’t long when his wife gave birth to a baby girl. Even though Gana was disappointed, he accepted the baby in good faith and thanked the creator for the gift.

In the course of time, as other newcomers lost their way into the established sheepfold of Gana, his kingdom continued growing at a moderate rate, covering more land. Gana then became an undisputed monarch of all he surveyed. He set up a decentralised political organisation. His kingdom was divided into seven units of single villages under the seven clans who came down with him from the north. Each village was administered by an eligible man as the head or chief, who was a life member of the King’s Council. One of such a village, that is, the seventh village, situated in the heart of the kingdom was headed by the Tiza clan. The capital of this seventh village was known as Atinbutu, meaning, the King’s home. Each head had a wise man to assist him in the daily activities of his village. King Gana was now a paramount ruler over a federation of chiefs. The King himself was assisted in the governing of the kingdom by six hereditary nobles, comprising one chief priest, two wisemen, two soothsayers, and one military leader. As a practical man, King Gana was not so drunk with power as to be a dictator or a despotic ruler. He believed in leadership by consultation so as to promote the interest of his people. Major problems like wars, settlement and certain disputes were brought before the King’s Council, but minor one like family problems were dealt with by the chiefs. The simplicity of the system under him called for only a few customary laws regulating such things as marriage, birth, death and others. There was no need for a law against killing or stealing because, as a united family, such a diabolical act brought disgrace. Each member of the community had the unquestionable knowledge of right and wrong, so inherent in human nature. Adultery was beyond reproach, more so was prostitution. It was inconceivable that any woman could offer her body as a natural commodity for sale. Fornication was customarily disallowed but wasn’t enforced by law. Boys and girls mixed freely especially on moonlit nights, playing hide and seek and even telling dirty jokes. The king and his council of chiefs never bothered about making unnecessary laws—for they would cross the bridge when they came to it. Everyone was pleased to serve King Gana with love because he treated people like human beings. He knew that without them, he could not be king. Therefore, their interests came first. King Gana, who had the misfortune of a small family, wanted a large family and got it—a kingdom.

Market days and three annual festivals were established. The seven villages shared seven market days, which they took in turn. The seventh market day, which was Atinbutu’s market day, was the major market. There was also an annual festival to commemorate the day the family set foot on the land, another reserved for their ancestral god, ‘Kukure’. Kukure was the mighty god of the land, representative of the divine God of the universe, who was beyond human reach. King Gana had realised that while customs and traditions were the foundation of a society, there had to be something spiritual which should be the cornerstone of this foundation. Such a spiritual element could have descended from the ancestors like Kukure or could be the invisible creator. Whatever be it, it is vital for any society to have a divine being who would act as the security guard over the activities of all and sundry relative to customs and traditions. Categorically, all members of the society must fall within a system of checks and balances. As it was, the divine God checked the activities of King Gana through the representative ‘Kukure’. King Gana in turn, checked the activities of his chiefs, and they checked those of the elders of each clan. Elders checked parents, and finally, parents checked and advised children about the requirements of the society. With such a hierarchy of checks and balances, it was difficult for anyone, especially those in authority, to take advantage of the system, or for anyone else to do so because ‘God is watching’. Through Kukure therefore, the rulers of Gantala received the ingredients for seasoning the individuals of their dutiful community of shared hopes and ideals. Upon the solid foundation of customs and traditions, were well seasoned individuals of moral, mental and spiritual purity, who were not pressed by a desire for change. Finally, the third festival was Zunbento—the most interesting festival of all and one of the oldest. It was a festival of meat, meat and meat only. On this day, the King offered a number of cows to each of the seven villages in proportion to size, to be slaughtered and shared between the clans. In addition to this, the clans slaughtered some of their own livestock. To celebrate the occasion, they shared their own with neighbours. Consequently, pots and pans were filled with meat of cow, sheep, goat, pig and fowl. On such a day, stealing of meat was permitted and the children loved it. Any left-overs were stolen from the pots and others went to the extent of stealing meat left for family gods or ancestors; because it was taboo to leave the meat of Zunbento until the next day. The reason for all this meaty Zunbento festival was that, long ago, a mysterious plague wiped off most of their animals in the land of Egipit. It took their ancestors nine months to go without any meat and three years to build up more than half the previous stock. After that catastrophe, King Farrow organised a meat festival, and that such a day should never, never be forgotten by the descendants of the Ebon tribe. This was one of the little pieces of history like many others, written in the minds of the old with indelible ink—passed on from generation to generation.

While Gana’s kingdom was expanding as the years went by, his family kept on shrinking. His wife gave birth to a second child, a boy, who died at the age of four, and