Something is Coming

By Divine Asaman

I have a discovery! The unconcerned attitude towards environmental protection and conservation exist because of a gap in the cultural structure of humanity, especially on the African continent. Climate Change is not a defined threat in the majority of African history and language, which means the average African grows to this knowledge at a latter part in life, sadly, with many regrets. These gaps have inspired me to reintroduce 'climate change,' fused into an African traditional setting to improve familiarity with the subject.

'Something is Coming' is a northern Ghanaian fiction that tells the story of the Taleng speaking community of Tongo in the Upper East Region of Ghana, who were bedeviled with a sudden hunger crisis. Their environment turned against them because they conspired against it. Individual advantages became a curse, wealth became a burden, power became disoriented and their ancestors could only watch from a distance.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Any
• Release date: Apr 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9789988346478

Divine Asaman

Asaman Divine is an environmental activist, a sustainable logistician and a seasoned writer with great competencies in African literature and poetry. Divine has a rare ability of combining African history with prevailing world concerns such as climate change, to achieve literature that has relevant real life applications; which he terms, "Applied Literature."

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CHAPTER ONE

YESTERDAY'S PEOPLE

Yes, wisdom is an advantage , but what makes up the structure of wisdom is the interdependence between the fool, the wise, and their environment. The test of wisdom is foolishness and the proof of wisdom is your environment. There was a wise man in my mother’s hometown whose wisdom was evident on his farm. There was another wise man whose wisdom was evident amongst his seven (7) wives and forty (40) children. Even in my father’s village, wealth is considered a product of wisdom and not an ancestral favour. Simply put, a man’s wisdom is announced by his environment and not by mere confessions.

Kanzo was obviously the richest farmer in Tongo, my mother’s hometown, and not even the fame of our Chief, Tongraan Yinmalya, matched his repute. His farm stretched as far as a whole day’s journey on a donkey’s back, almost into the swampy waters of Winkogo, our farthest neighbouring village to the West. He always bragged by saying, My farm knows the number of teeth in each family within Tongo, which is because the produce of his farm once relieved our fathers from starvation, in the Zom famine, several years ago.

It is believed the famine was an ancestral punishment for the wastage of food. Scarcity was thus supposed to trigger gratitude and till today, my mother’s hometown accords food a great deal of respect.

The famine was so severe that pets were considered meat and meat was considered a luxury. Both the farms and streams lay bare, only the dusty wind was in abundance, but could neither quench thirst nor satisfy hunger. Money even lost its value and millet was the only edible commodity in the four markets of Tongo. This millet was grounded into powder and mixed with water, to resolve both hunger and thirst; a beverage called "Zom Ku’om, translated as Flour Water."

A bumper harvest preceded the "Zom" famine but after two years of nothingness, everybody eyed Kanzo’s barns. He had received invitations by the Clan Heads and as though he knew their thoughts, refused to show up. Like it is told, ‘The little child that dances in the rain does not know that a runny nose awaits at night.’ Not long after, two of his barns which contained grain were broken into and emptied without a trace; ‘hunger,’ they say, suspends conscience.

That was when Kanzo realized, ‘if hunger did not kill him, someone else’s hunger could trigger mutiny against his household.’ Early the next morning, Kanzo rushed out of his hut like a toad in pursuit of its dinner, vehemently shook his old brownish smock to get rid of insects that may have crawled into it during the night, reached out for his "duor" (walking stick) and without a word, headed to the Chief’s Palace.

Our people say, ‘a rat enjoys the luxury of its hole until the hunter's smoke pays a visit,’ Tongraan Yinmalya said as he signaled for the Linguist.

Send word to the Clan Heads that Tongraan will not sit on his skin until each of them is seated here, he whispered.

The skin is the symbol of authority, passed down from one to the next generation of chiefs. It is usually that of a wild beast and believed to possess the spirits and wisdom of past chiefs. Thus, whoever sat on it possessed authority to administer judgement throughout Tongo.

Tongraan Yinmalya was just a boy when his father joined his ancestors, and he had to contest his uncles and other royals for the "gbong" (skin), making him blunt in speech and approach, bold as the lion whose skin he sat on.

Tongraan Yinmaliya, the Chief of Tongo, was known and feared by neighbouring villages; a reason his reign did not attract many wars.

Tongo had six (6) clans, each represented by a Clan Head, who directly reported to the Chief. Chieftaincy was somewhat rotational between the lineages of the first settlers of the land, called "Tengdan." It