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 _ Poetry Library —
MA
‘wmcil

The Marriage
of Anansewa

WITHDRAWN FROM THE POETRY LIBRARY

The Marriage
of Anansewa

Efua T. Sutherland

wivRY

Longman Drumbeat
Longman Group Limited
Longman House, Burnt Mill ah Re
Harlow, Essex, U.K. |

© Longman Group Ltd 1975

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be

reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the
prior permission of the Copyright owner.

This play is fully protected by copyright and permission must

be obtained before any performance is given. Applications to
The Permission Department, Longman House, Burnt Mill,
Harlow, Essex, U.K.

First published 1975

First published in Longman Drumbeat 1980
Reprinted 1981 (twice)

ISBN 0 582 64260 4

Printed in Great Britain by
Richard Clay (The Chaucer Press) Ltd,
Bungay, Suffolk
 Foreword
There is in Ghana a story-telling art called Anansesem by Akan-
speaking people. The name, which literally means Ananse stories,
is used both for the body of stories told and for the story-telling
performance itself. Although this story-telling is usually a domestic
activity, there are in existence some specialist groups who have
given it a full theatrical expression with established conventions. It
is this system of traditional theatre which I have developed and
classified as Anansegoro. A consideration of some of the conventions
of Anansesem will reveal the bases of The Marriage ofAnansewa.
Who is Ananse, and why should so many stories be told about
him? Ananse appears to represent a kind of Everyman, artistically
exaggerated and distorted to serve society as a medium for self-
examination. He has a penetrating awareness of the nature and
psychology of human beings and animals. He is also made to
mirror in his behaviour fundamental human passions, ambitions
and follies as revealed in contemporary situations. Significantly,
laughter is the main social response to Ananse as a character. In
addition, it is in the verbal comments which often underscore the
laughter that society’ s attitude to him is clarified. Of these the most
representative is “Ananse’s wealth !’—a sarcastic expression for suc-
cesses and triumphs which are not likely to last. Indeed most of
Ananse’s successes are doubtful and temporary. By constantly over-
reaching himself he ruins his schemes and ends up impoverished.
That Ananse is, artistically, a medium for society to criticise itself
can be seen in the expression, “Exterminate Ananse, and society will
be ruined.’
The stories are composed with performance demands in mind and
in a number of different forms and styles. Most are in a combination
of narrative prose and a poetry which is meant to be sung or
thythmically recited on the basis of solo and choral response.
_ However, the stories are not rigidly formed. Every one is intended

Wy,
 FOREWORD eee

to be given fuller composition and artistic interpretation by the ©

Storyteller. He tries to prove his artistry by refreshing and up-dating
his story by spontaneous improvisation as he tells it. And it is
to this artistry in the narration that the audience look for the —
aesthetic experience they seek. Thus, stories in the tradition are —
under constant revision for renewal and development. Also, con-
temporary interest inspires the composition of completely new
stories to replenish the repertoire.
The Storyteller in Anansesem tells the whole story himself. The
Marriage ofAnansewa demonstrates how this role has been adapted
in Anansegoro. Here the narrator is still seen as the owner of the
story with a conventional right to know everything, tohave aright
to be personally involved in the action and to be capable of inducing
his audience to believe they are there with him and similarly in-
volved. Likewise, the convention of the Storyteller having a staff in
imitation of an Okyeame, a Chief’s official spokesman, is adapted.
In Anansesem musical performances are called Mboguo. Many of —
the Mboguo are part and parcel of the stories themselves and are
_ performed in context, led by the Storyteller. But it is a convention
for Mboguo to be contributed by other people present. They are
permitted to halt the narration of a story to make such contributions,
and always their choices are prompted by some sort of inspiration
in the performance situation. Contributed Mboguo may be reflective
of a mood or aimed at quickening the pace of the performance or
inspiring the general assembly. It is not uncommon for some con-
tributions to be made merely from a high-spirited desire to show
off! Anybody may dance when the musical interlude is open to
general participation. Interludes of mimed action and comic play-
lets are also contributed, but strictly by specialist performers who
do the acting while sharing the performance of the accompanying __
music with the rest of the assembly.
A typical story-telling session opens with a series of rousing
Mboguo songs led by a specialist group’s signature tune. Some
groups even include in this introduction the performance of a semi-
serious, semi-playful Mboguo of libation. Directly afterwards the
Storyteller begins to perform and from then on the programme is
organised on a system of serialising the story by breaking up the
narration at various points with different kinds of Mboguo. The —
session ends with the specialist group’s signing-off Mboguo song. _

Vi Bahyy etve ED eae

 FOREWORD

The singing of Mboguo songs is usually accompanied by hand-

clapping with slightly cupped hands and drumming, with castanets
and a gong instrument providing the rhythmic control.
Mboguo in its traditional concept and usage has been inherited
wholesale by Anansegoro. However, in addition it can be used to
develop action and characterisation, or to acquaint the audience
with shifts of time or place.
Anansesem is a community art. All the people present are per-
formers in one way or another, either actively or potentially.
Though the specialists control the main flow of the action, their
performance requires the participation of the audience.
People come to a session prepared to be, in story-telling parlance,
‘hoaxed’. The term is used in its humorous sense, and meant to be a
joke in itself. Hence in the course of a particularly entrancing story
it is normal for an appreciative listener to engage in the following
exchange:
LISTENER: Keep hoaxing me! (Sisi me!)
NARRATOR: I am hoaxing you and will keep on hoaxing you!
(Mirisisi wo, mesisi wo bio!)
The formula is practically a form of applause, an encouragement to
the Storyteller to sustain his artistry.
Of the many problems I have encountered in composing Ananse-
goro, the most tricky has been how to invest it with some capacity
for invoking this element of community participation. I have used
the device of moving on to the stage a pool of Players representing
both the specialist performers and the participating audience of
- Anansesem. The onus for making the public audience feel at one
with the on-stage participating audience is of course on the director
of the play.

Efua T. Sutherland
 All performers in the play, grouped
together as a unified pool of music-
makers, dancers, actors, and as a partici-
pating audience. Provision must be made
for able song-leaders, one or two drum-
mers and, if possible, a guitarist. When
necessary actors simply detach them-
selves from the pool at convenient
times to dress, returning when their
roles are over
PROPERTY MAN Serves primarily as property manager,
manning a property stand on-stage, and
distributing props on cue. In addition,
he does scene-setting duties, and is con-
veniently available as an actor for
supporting roles. He can function, if
necessary, as a prompter, and quite
openly, provided he does it with skilful
informality. When free, he is responsive
to the action of the pool of PLAYERS or
of the actors on stage

ANANSEWA Ananse’s daughter

POST OFFICE CREW Any effective number. Other PLAYERS
are free to participate by doing make-
believe business at the Post Office
STORYTELLER
AEKWASI AND AKOSUA A young couple

SAPAASE MESSENGERS Two women, matronly

CAST " ' ei i a
-—, ar
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF'S The image of a high-grade diplomat -
MESSENGER
AYA Ananse’s mother
EKUWA Ananse’s aunt aa
CHRISTIE Miss Christina Yamoah, a fashionable
woman =
GIRLS About six, of Anansewa’s age-group
TWO WOMEN For the dirge
MESSENGERS To the ‘funeral’
1 From the Mines Two men
2 From Sapaase One man and two women
3 From Akate Two men :
4 From Chief-Who- The ‘diplomat’, another man and two
Is-Chief or three women

The Marriage ofAnansewa is published after productions of the play

in Akan and in English by three different companies in Ghana:
the Workers’ Brigade Drama Group, Kusum Agoromba (Kusum
Players) and the Drama Studio Players and Kusum Agoromba com-
bined. a
 Act One
[The PLAyERs enter from one side of the stage, which is a bare room
except for a small table and chair, centre, and start the play with a
popular song.]

PLAYERS: Oh life is a struggle,

Oh life is a pain;
Oh life is a struggle,
Oh life is a pain
In this world.
Life is.a struggle,
Citizens,
Life is a pain
In this world.
Life is a struggle,
Friends,
Life is a pain
In this world.

[Halfway through the song, AN ANSE enters hastily, escaping from the
rain outside. He is wearing a shabby raincoat. At the entrance, he
receives an old umbrella from PROPERTY MAN, and as he opens it up
shakes off the rain. He shakes his head like a troubled man. Then,
taking over the solo parts of the song, he walks round with umbrella
aloft, clearly indicating that the song he is singing recounts his own
story to the PLAYERS and the audience.] :

ANANSE: [When the song is over] While life is whipping you, rain
also pours down to whip you some more. Whatever it was that
man did wrong at the beginning of things must have been
really awful for all of us to have to suffer so. [He calls:]
re.
‘i be, I
 if i,

ACT ONE oe aheliia,

Anansewa—a! Where is that typewriter of ode Bring it here. ©

[Pause.] I've been thinking, thinking and thinking, until my
head is earthquaking. Won’t somebody who thinks he has dis- _
covered the simple solution for living this life kindly step for-"
ward and help out the rest of us? [To the audience:] Brother, —
could it be you? Mother, how about you? Nobody?
Oh the world is hard,
Is hard,
The world is really hard.
[Taking off his raincoat and calling again] Anansewa—a! Where —
is that typewriter I bought for you at a price that nearly drove
me to sell myself? Bring it here. [He closes up the umbrella.] :
[Enter ANANSEWA dressed for going out, and receives the typewriter
from PROPERTY MAN. |

ANANSEWA: Oh father, is it raining?

ANANSE: Yes, it’s raining. It’s rain combining with life to beat your _
father down. [He leans the umbrella against the wall.]
ANANSEWA: Oh, I didn’t even know you were not in the house.
ANANSE: Going-and-coming is necessary. [He takes off the raincoat
and hands it over to PROPERTY MAN.] Otherwise nothing —
succeeds. I went to buy paper. Here is typing paper. Here is
carbon paper. Here are envelopes. [He takes these items one by —
one from PROPERTY MAN andpiles them in ANANSBWA’S arms.]
Sit down with the machine. a
ANANSEWA: [Petulantly] Ah, I was coming to tell you I was going -
out. af
ANANSE: My daughter, it isn’t well with the home, therefore sit —
down, open up the machine I bought for your training, and let _
the tips of your fingers give some service from the training for
which I’m paying. I have very urgent letters to write.
ANANSEWA: Just when I was going out? y
ANANSE: Daughter mine, it’s your future I’m thinking about, so—
put the machine down and get ready to help me.
Take paper,
Get set,
 ACT ONE

While I reflect;
Get set,
While I collect
My thoughts together.
[Walking about.] I am stirring up all the brains in my head.
Take paper
While I cogitate.

ANANSEWA: [Frowning with disappointment] I’m ready.

_ ANANSE: Don’t frown, my daughter. Have patience with your
father. You area child yet, in spite of your body’s development.
You cannot see as far as your father can. There you sit looking
lovely, and it’s exciting for you to go out in all your beauty,
That is all you know. But, tell me, won’t you return home,
here, afterwards?
ANANSEWA: I will return home, here; why not?
ANANSE: And when you return, will your fees for E.P.’s Secretarial
School be paid?
-ANANSEWA: No.
ANANSE: Haven't you stayed at home for nearly two weeks because
_ your fees are owing? And am I not still straining to find the
money?
ANANSEWA: Yes.
ANANSE:! point it out to you, that the principal of E.P.’s Secretarial
School—miser that he is—will remain merciless; that he will
not hear of your returning unless I pay; unless you are carrying
the money in your hands. Right or wrong?
ANANSEWA: [Getting more unhappy] Right.
ANANSE: Ahaa! Now let’s turn our attention to that object there.
That machine. That typewriter. After you have gone out and
returned home, here, will the last instalment on that typewriter
which you need for your training be paid? Eh?
ANANSEWA: No.
ANANSE: Good. So you agree there is need.
ANANSEWA: Oh, knowit.
ANANSE: And on whom is the burden of that need?
ANANSEWA: On you, father.
ANANSE: Well said; correct. Then, in that case, let me turn your
 ACT ONB

attention to me a little. Take a look at my condition. I’m not

young, and yet what are my prospects? To what can I look for-
ward? After you have gone out and returned home, here, will
my hope for a more comfortable future be any better? The
mattress on which I try to rest my bones after each day’s up=
and-down—will it have changed from a straw-stuffed, lumpy 4
mattress to a soft, bouncy Dunlopillo?
ANANSEWA: No. Oh, father, please . . .
ANANSE: I haven’t finished. Apart from things like that, and above
all, when you return, will there be a better, leak-proof roof
over our heads? Let alone some comfortable chairs to sit in? A_
"fridge in the kitchen? A car in the garage? My name on
invitation lists for state functions? Embassies’ parties? Tell me, —
tell me. Will I be able to go to memorial services, this week in a
fine cloth, next week in a suit or a different cloth? Will I be able, —
if go, to thrust my hand confidently into my pocket in public
and take out a five-guinea donation?
ANANSEWA: [Miserably] Father, you have said enough, please.
ANANSE: Let me add one or two things more. Imagine a great
congregation at church on an important occasion. It is time for
the collection. There sits the priest. There stands the gleaming
collection plate in everybody’s view.
They call out: “Those born on Sunday.’ Those born on Sun-
day, the Kwesis and Esis,* rise, walk up, and deposit their money a
in the plate. “Those born on Monday’. The Kodwos and Ad-
wowas file up; they deposit.
It is coming soon to those born on Wednesday, mark you. To
the Kwekus and Ekuwas. And my name is Kweku. Tell me,
how many times have I missed going to church because there is _
nothing in my pocket to deposit in full view of the public? And —
after you have gone out and returned home, here, will I be any —
better off for going to church?
ANANSEWA: I implore you, father, I’m ready.
ANANSB: Finally, when I breathe my last and die, will my coffin be -
drawn in a fine, private hearse instead of a municipal hearse?
* Kwesis and Esis, etc. For some people in Ghana, there are sets of feminine
and masculine names related to the names of the seven days of the week. They
are known as Day Names. and people born on a particular day have a
automatic right to whichever Day Name is relevant to them. ;

4
 i

ACT ONE

Will the people who come to my funeral eat salad and small
chops and drink good whisky, instead of chewing bits of cola
and drinking cheap gin and diluted Fanta? Tell me.
| ANANSEWA: Father, why? I thought you . . .
_ aANANSE: [Sharply] Begin the typing. “Dear Chief of Sapa . . .”
ANANSEWA: [Hesitating] So, father, do you desire all those things?
| Haven't you condemned many of them often and often? You
have pooh-poohed them, haven’t you?
_ ANANSE: Of course I have. Some of them are absolutely absurd.
Empty vanities. But you see, my child, I’m trying to use this
index to show you how all is not well at home. So set your
machine talking to help your father out. [Walking away.] Asa
result of a most severe cracking of my brains, I’m at last able to
see a little hope gleaming in our future, and I’m directing my
steps towards it.
ANANSEWA: [Busy at the machine] Yes?
ANANSE: [Absent-mindedly] Step by step, my feet are in motion
under the direction of my mind, and I’m on the road to free you
and me from want. I’m not saying I want that much. But what
if a few things can come my way... if a few things... a few
things can come. . . . I’m not saying Ill eat chicken every day,
but what about a little fish today, and tomorrow, a little meat
on which I can count? I’m not saying my only daughter Anan-
sewa must become a Judge of the Supreme Court .. . but what
about her finishing her secretarial course? And perhaps . . . well
Perhaps fo
ANANSEWA: [Having tried several times to get his attention by tapping on
the typewriter keys:] He’s forgotten I’m here. This absent-
mindedness of father’s is most trying. [Louder] Oh, father,
please hurry.
ANANSE: What’s that?
ANANSEWA: [Louder still] Rea—dy! The ty—ping!
ANANSE: [Crisply] Address;
today’s date;
and cancel that “Dear Chief of Sapa’, it is too ordinary.
ANANSEWA: [Typing] Yes?
ANANSE: Cancel that, and put what I’m going to recite in its
place.
[He assumes the stance ofan official praise-singer.]
 ACT ONB

‘Oo Mighty-Tree-O€ Amdeay OS

Mighty-Tree-Of-Ancient-Origin,
Rooted in the shrine of deity!
Countless branches in which
Benighted wandering birds
Are welcome to shelter.’
ANANSEWA: All of that? All that in the place where ‘Dear Chief of .
Sapa’ should go? Is this a letter? How can I fit it in? &
ANANSE: Fit it in. Chiefs adore their appellations.

[ANANSEWA types vigorously for a while. At a signal from her,

ANANSE continues his dictation.] a

‘I have returned safely home after my visit to you. The little

affair about which we spoke seriously occupies my thoughts. —
How can I ever forget that you have done me great honour? —
To show my gratitudé, I will guard the object of your interest —
. . with all the vigilance in my power. A
‘Now, I know that you who are seated on the ancient stools —
of our land know the a.b.c. of all our cherished laws, all our —
time-honoured customs. 4
‘Since forwardness has never been one of my faults, I will not
even dare to drop a hint that the way is open for you now to
begin oiling the wheels of custom. You who do not pay mere ©
lip service to law and custom but really live by them, need no —
prompting from anyone. F
‘Therefore I will only add that I’m very happy to be,
“Yours in the closest of links in the not too distant future,

“George Kweku Ananse,”

ANANSEWA: [Enjoying her own performance] Got it. Ah, father, your a
lips are sugared. 5
ANANSE: The address is Chief Sapa, The Palace, Sapaase. i
ANANSEWA: Next? ,
ANANSE: The same letter is going to two other Chiefs. All you |
need is their appellations. Take them down in shorthand and as_
you work, I'll turn the last letter over in my mind. 4
ANANSEWA: I’m listening.
ANANSE: Here's one. [He assumes the proper stance.]

6* sae cot a
“2 fa c
:
 ACT ONE

‘Prickly-Pear!
Cactus keeping guard
On your territory’s border,
To your left your territory,
To your right the sea;
Tough and vigilant one,
Thanks to your prickles
The enemy bleeds,
Thanks to your capacious leaves,
Those whom you love
Will always find within them
Water to refresh them.’
ANANSEWA: Very nice.
ANANSE: Address: Togbe Klu IV, Akate.
ANANSEWA: Next?
ANANSE: [With relish and vigour]
“You are coming again,
Aren’t you?
You are coming again?
Oh, where shall we sit?
Where shall we sit,
When driver ants
Are astir
All over our ground?”
ANANSEWA: And whose appellation is that?
ANANSE: [Secretively] He whose appellation it is, has command
of priceless lands. He is not small at all, Chief of... (He
whispers conspiratorially into Anansewa’s ear. She nods in under-
standing.]
ANANSEWA: You said there was one more?
ANANSE: Indeed. Please type this one with utmost care. [He recites
with tremendous vigour and at great speed.]
Oh! Fire-Extinguisher!
Fire-Extinguisher,
You have caused flame flashes to darken,
You have caused ‘I’m Irreversible’
To come to a full stop.
 ac eel el Ee LOT
|lho

Blazing-Column-Of-Fire-Who-Says-I-
Will-Not-Be-Halted
ae Has come to a full stop.
Masculine-One-Destined-To-Contend-
To-Victory!
You consume fire, abraw.*

This you did, this you did,

And therefore do nations say
Well done, and well done, abraw
Have they not heard your fame?
When they hear your fame
Do they not acclaim you in praise-names?

[ANANSEWA is so frustrated by the speed and passion ofhis perfor-

mance that she has not been able to keep up with him.]

Have you got it down? ;

ANANSEWA: How could I? I’ve never taken dictation at such super-
sonic speed before. Say it slowly, please.

[Relaxing now and savouring his eloquence, ANANSE repeats the recital.] _

ANANSEWA: [Finished, and looking at her watch] And that’s the end,
isn’t it? a
ANANSE: Nearly. The letter to this one is different, and it is brief:
‘The thing you sent me by your most respected messenger —
has reached me; and it is so unexpected, so welcome, that
whether I’m dreaming or not is still an undecided question,
‘Briefly, thank you, Nana. All is well with .. . the object of —
your interest. I look forward to the time when—it—will come 1)
out of my custody into your hands. ;
‘Most humbly, and delightedly yours.
‘George Kweku Ananse.’
ANANSEWA: Finished? : an
* abraw: a title.

nskhee .
_ANANSE: [With a sigh of relief:] Finished.
_ ANANSEWA: Address?
- ANANSE: To Chief-Who-Is-Chief!
ANANSEWA: Chief-Who-Is-Chief. Town?
ANANSE: Town unnecessary It will get there with just that. Now
please be quick or we shall miss the mail.

MBOGUO (Interlude)
/
[The posting of the letters. PROPERTY MAN sets the Post Office,
with a counter and a pillar box. Two men from among the PLAYERS
rise to man the Post Office in a busy way.]

ANANSE: Please hurry,

For time is nobody’s friend.
Hurry,
For time will not wait for you.
{ [ANANSEWA seals each letter and passes it to her father who hurries
to the Post Office, buys a stamp, sticks it on, gets it stamped officially,
and slips it in the pillar box. The PLAYERS sing in accompaniment:]

Hurry, hurry,
Hurry down there;
Hurry, hurry,
Hurry down there.
Time is nobody’s friend,
Time is nobody’s friend,
Time is nobody’s friend.
So hurry, hurry,
Hurry down there.
Hurry, hurry,
Hurry down there.
Time will not wait for you,
Time will not wait for you,
Time will not wait for you.
 ACT ONE i :, Si eae

So hurry, hurry,
Hurry down there,
Hurry, hurry,
Hurry down there.

[ANANSE has finished. He returns home. ANANSEWA brings him a

chair. PROPERTY MAN moves out the Post Office props.}

ANANSB: [Falling into the chair] I’m exhausted.

ANANSEWA: Yes, I’m tired myself. ‘
ANANSE: You have done well. And now, if you will come closer, I
have something to give you.
ANANSEWA: Really?

[She moves closer. ANANSE takes a bulging wallet out of his pocket
and counts out money, to her amazement.]

ANANSE: Ten cedis, ten cedis, one hundred clean cedis. Altogether,
one hundred and twenty cedis. Take that to the miserly prin-—
cipal of E.P.’s Secretarial School.
ANANSEWA: My fees?
ANANSE: Correct. You can return to school. -
ANANSEWA: [She drops to her knees, embraces her father and nestles her
head on his chest.] Oh, father.
ANANSE: [With pleasure] And now we shall see. My daughter, now
we shall see which one of those four chiefs will make the best.
husband for you. ;
ANANSEWA: [In consternation] What!
ANANSE: [Very tickled] That’s the story.
ANANSEWA: You sit there smilingly saying “That's the story.”
What's the story? Ht
ANANSE: The letters you've just typed for me to post. That’s the
story.
ANANSEWA: What?
ANANSE: Ofcourse.
ANANSEWA: Of course what? You're making me feel like crying.
What have you done to me, eh? Eh? Who said I wanted to
marry a chief, ch? Who told those old chiefs of yours? Have
they ever seen me? 4)
10 A SR
”,

tiga
. re

2
;
 ACT ONB

ANANSE: Who told you they are old? You've never set eyes on
them. They, of course, have seen you.
ANANSEWA: Where?
ANANSE: They have seen your photographs.
ANANSEWA: [Recalling] Ab-h, that’s why! That’s why you went to
so much trouble to get my photograph taken. You made such
a fuss. “Take one of her, full height. Sit down this time, Anan-
sewa, and turn your face slightly to the right.’ Oh father, there’s
cunning in your head. You are to be feared.
ANANSB: [Flattered] I’m glad you don’t underestimate me.
ANANSEWA: I have found you out. The week after those photo-
graphs were taken—that was when you travelled. I’ve found
you out; you went on tour to see your chiefs.
ANANSE: Certainly. I covered miles. I travelled the country, by bus,
by train, by ferry-boat. I lobbied for introductions into palace
after palace. I listened with ears alert. I observed with keen eyes.
I assessed everything before I selected the four chiefs to whom I
could show your photographs with advantage.
ANANSEWA: But why on earth four?
ANANSB: Oh, let’s say that covers North, South, East and West.
ANANSEWA: How exasperating! Oh, my father is selling me, he is
selling me. [She clasps her neck and sings, the PLAYERS ioining
in.
My father is selling me,
Alas, alas!
Whoever thought he would?
Alas, alas!
But let me tell you bluntly,
I'll never comply.
I will not let you sell me
Like some parcel to a customer.
Not ever!
Not ever!
Not ever!
Not ever!
ANANSE: My daughter is a child.
ANANSEWA: I will not let you sell me like some parcel to a cus-
tomer. [She sings on.]

II
 ACT ONE

I will select my lover myself; i

I'll never comply.
_ IT will not let you sell me
Like some parcel to a customer.
Not ever!
Not ever!

ANANSE: She is a child.

ANANSEWA: And do you really mean you're trying to tell me that _
those four chiefs of yours are satisfied with just photographs? —
ANANSE: Oh, the photographs have slain them, have slain them flat. _
Your engagement is not far off at all. 4
ANANSEWA: I will not take part in any photograph engagement.
ANANSE: This daughter of mine doesn’t know much about this
world’s ways. F
ANANSEWA: What's this you’ve done to me? I’m not a child. ’'m |
twenty.
ANANSE: She’s not.a child.
Br She’s twenty.
And she still eats out of my pocket!
Nonsense!
ANANSEWA: I'll stop eating. ?
ANANSE: I'll thank you if you stop. Say also, that you'll pay your
own fees to the miserly principal of E.P.’s Secretarial School. a
ANANSEWA: I'll stop attending then, and . . . Oh, you are making —
me miserable. :
ANANSE: Talk on; you'll stop attending what and do what instead? _
Give me back the fees in your hand and stop attending, you ©
fool, when in two months’ time you could have your certificate
in your hand? 2
ANANSEWA: Did I say I would stop attending anywhere? Did lig
But bluntly speaking, as for some old chief with fifty wives,
that won’t do at all. Never. [She is close to tears with her hands
covering her face.} 's
ANANSE: [With cunning] Supposing it isn’t some old chief as you
ignorantly describe, but the finely built, glowing black, large~
eyed, handsome as anything, courageous and famous Chief-
Who-lIs-Chief? es,
ANANSEWA: [Interested in such news] Chief&-Who-Is-Chief?

12 Re aa,
 an

ACT ONE

ANANSE: I mean, himself.

ANANSEWA: But who are we to have expectations about him?
ANANSE: You may well ask who are we. But just the same, you
have just typed a letter which I have posted to him.
ANANSEWA: [Amazed, and then with excitement] I just typed it, of
course. I, Anansewa, have typed a letter to Chief-Who-Is-Chief.
ANANSE: [Proudly] You think I’m walking round this world play-
ing ludo?
ANANSEWA: [Searching for the copy] Is it I? Here is the letter. [She
reads . . .] ‘the object of your interest’. Is that me, father? Am I
the object? Oh, I wish, I wish. .
ANANSE: [Pompously] I will quote you what the rhesus monkey
says. Rhesus monkey, it is he who says that unless he sees with
his own eyes, he will not believe. He says, “My eyes are my
oracle.’ Therefore, my child, if you want proof that Chief-
Who-Is-Chief is interested in you, spread out your hand and
look at what you are holding there.
ANANSEWA: [She spreads out her hand and is amazed.] It’s my fees
I've got in my hand. |
ANANSE: How did I get that money, when for more than a month
I have been constantly struggling with our poverty? I ask you.
[ANANSEWA is dumbfounded.] Read the beginning of that
letter.
ANANSEWA: [Reading:] “The rt you sent by your most respected
messenger has reached me .
ANANSE: Stop just there. You are ‘holding in your hand almost all
of the full amount of that ‘thing’. That ‘thing’ is the first solid
proof that Chief-Who-Is-Chief is not just showing interest
with his mouth. He is willing and eager to oil the wheels of
custom; and therefore he has sent something for the main-
tenance of the object of his interest.
ANANSEWA: If this is the case, what do I do now? [She sits down to
think.]
ANANSE: Stop eating, and stop attending school, as you said.
ANANSEWA: Oh, no, father. Have a little patience, for I’m thinking
about it.
ANANSBE: [Deliberately piling it on] All the toiling I have taken it
upon myself to suffer for you. And yourise against me yelling,
‘I will not let you sell me like some parcel to a customer’. O.K.

—— 13
Sees... -
 ACT ONE ee: |) ae Mae
I won't sell you, so stop attending school, and cut short your
training, and do without your certificate. 5 i
ANANSEWA: Please, be patient. What? Chief-Who-Is-Chief and I?
ANANSE: [Full ofsmiles] You think I’m walking around this world -;
playing games? "4
ANANSEWA: [Embracing him] Oh, my loving father. 4
ANANSE: Oh, my lovely daughter. My foolish baby.
ANANSEWA: I wish, I wish...
ANANSE: So do I, so do I.
ANANSEWA: [Infatuated] Ah.
ANANSE: You have to say ah.
ANANSEWA: Ah. Mmm. a
ANANSE: Does he appeal to you? That’s how it is, isn’t it? Tell the _
truth,
ANANSEWA: I’m amazed. Father, you are a wonder.
ANANSE: You see? As I’m standing here in my colo* trousers, I’m
not a man to be sneered at. I circulate. I’m capable of going and —
coming.
ANANSEWA: Feel my heart. It’s thumping so fast.
ANANSE: Let it thump; don’t prevent it. ~ 4
ANANSEWA: What newsis this that is so sweet? [She panics suddenly.]
But . . . oh, father, what’s this you have done?
ANANSE: Again? Have I done something else?
ANANSEWA: The other letters. The other three.
ANANSE: [Pretending unconcern] Yes?
ANANSEWA: The other chiefs, The other three.
ANANSE: Yes. So what about them? Og
ANANSEWA: [Picking up copies of the letters she has arranged beside the
typewriter] Chief of Sapaase; Chief of Akate; and this other of
chief whose name is whispered in the ear. Four chiefs. But don’t i
you see there’s only one of me? [She is almost in tears.] What’s —
this you've done to me? ‘
ANANSE: [Who has been smiling all this while] Listen, my one and
only daughter, what I have done is that Ihave organised around—
you a most lively competition.
ANANSEWA: But aren't you afraid?
ANANSE: [Nasally] Who said I wasn’t aftaid?
ANANSEWA: Then why are you doing it?
* colo: colonial; out of date; not in fashion.

14
ete te ip rig
 ACT ONB

ANANSE: I’m counting on human nature to help disentangle it. All

_ four chiefs can’t be winners, don’t you see? Child, your father is
trying for you. Don’t ask too many complicated questions.
Your father can only cope with one step at a time.
ANANSEWA: It’s a very tangled affair.
ANANSE: So it is. I don’t deny it. But, believe me, my child, if it
looks as if I have tied a knot, I haven’t tied it so tight that it can-
not be untied. A little more thinking is all that is needed to
untie this knot. Have confidence in your father. Return to
school, tomorrow, pay your fees, and just concentrate on get-
ting your certificate. [Affectionately] Do say something to com-
fort me. I’m tired. I need some rest.
ANANSEWA: [Smiling with sympathy] All right, father. I suppose
I'll leave it all in your hands and trust you.
ANANSE: Many thanks.
ANANSEWA: [Having checked on the rain outside] It isn’t raining too
hard now.
ANANSE: It has quietened down, has it? Well, I don’t feel quite so
whipped by life as I did when I came in. If you still want to go _
out, why don’t you?
ANANSEWA: I will, I think. [She returns her typewriter to PROPERTY
MAN.] Have a good rest, father.
-ANANSE: [Accompanying her out] Thank you, one and only. All
shall be well.

[PROPERTY MAN Clears the stage. STORY TELLER rises from among
the PLAYERS and receiving his staff from PROPERTY MAN, speaks
to them.]

STORYTELLER: Ananse certainly needs a rest after spinning such a

web. [PLayzErs roar with laughter.] I was present when all this
happened. [To gong-player:] Calling!

[Gong rhythm starts up.] Hands! [prayers start the clapping

rhythm and STORYTELLER starts the song for the next MBOGUO,
and sings it with the PLAYERS.]

She says, mmm mother;

She says, mmm father;

1§
 ACT ONE

She says, how shall I find a mate?

K-legged Ama,
How shall I find a mate?
Limping Ama,

How shall I find a mate?

[Tivo women from among the PLAYERS mime in a playful dance

the deformity the song describes. When it ends one of the soNc-
LEADERS interrupts the STORYTELLER.|

SONGLEADER: Storyteller, hold your story for a while.

STORYTELLER: It’s held for you, brother.

[SONGLEADER starts off the chant “Kweku Ananse Said He

Would’.]

Kweku Ananse said he would!

And he has done it
He has done it
O, mankind!
STORYTELLER: And that chant having passed away let me
admit that I can feel a little for Ananse. I am a tather myself.
To tell you the truth, I wish I had a little bit of his kind of —
cunning.
It’s very clear that he knows the customs more than well.
Notice how he has them at his finger tips, spinning them out,
weaving them into a design to suit his purposes. q
It would be amazing if there was any among those four chiefs _
who didn’t know that a man who desires to marry somebody’s
daughter can improve his chances by paying his way with gifts. —
Ananse has selected men who will do exactly as he hopes and do
it properly too. 4
Oh, Ananse. His ways are certainly complicated. It’s very —
possible that these chiefs will be drawn right into his net; and _
for this affair to turn into sheer profit for him. If negotiations —
have only reached this stage, is there any law binding him to —
give his daughter in marriage to any of those four chiefs?

16
 ACT ONB

PLAYERS: There is no such law.

[Once more he starts off the song ‘How shall I find a Mate?’ and
moves in dance to stand aside.]

MBOGUO
AKWAWI AND AKOSUA
[AKOSUA strides saucily in, crosses, and halts with arms akimbo
among the PLAYERS. AKWASI enters in hot pursuit. He looks this
way and that, not noticing where she is.]

AKWASI: [To STORYTELLER:] Please sir, did a girl pass by, this
way?
STORYTELLER: Do you mean that one standing over there?
axwast: Aha! Thank you, sir. Hey, Akosua, there you are, aren’t
you? [He seizes her at the waist by her cloth* and pulls her out ‘from
the group.]
AkosuA: [Stridently] Let me go!
Let me go!
AKWASI: I will not let you go.
I will not let you go.
You cannot spend my dough
And treat me so.
AKOSUA: You funny man,
Don’t you know
I'm not your wife?
Am I your wife?
AKWASI: Don’t you know you are?
AKOSUA: What law says that?
Quote me the law
That makes me your wife.
Oh, you'll make me laugh enough
To drive you to distraction.
How, how, and how
Do you come by such an assumption?
* cloth: dress.
ACT ONE ik ee
AKWASI: I've brought you gifts,
I’ve bought you clothes
And shining jingling things
For your neck and for your wrists.
AKosua: So this is your character. You keep coming to me.
‘Akosua, this is something small I bought for you’, you say. I’m
reluctant to accept it, but you press it on me. “You'll embarrass
me if you refuse it’, so you say. Therefore, I accept it. And here
you stand today in a public street screaming out that:
I spend your dough
And treat you so.
Ihave filed you in my mind for future reference.
AKwast: I’m bawling you out like this because you're so persis-
tently saucy.
AKOSUA: I’m not your wife,
So let me go!
AKWASI: Ask your mother,
Ask your father;
If you don’t know
They do!
AKOSUA: Ha haa-a!
Oil is dripping into fire.
Akwasi, listen, come home with me then, and tell my parents
I’m your wife, and see if they don’t give you a slap that will
spark fire in your eyes.
AKWASI: Do you suppose they’re as senseless as you ate?
AKoSuA: Oh, no, I don’t think that at all. Quite the contrary, they
are far wiser. They know I’m not your wife until after you
have come to their home and placed the customary head-drink* _
on their table. [Teasingly] Yoa see what I mean? oa
AKWASI: [Disarmed] So that’s what you are saying.
Axosva: And about time too, don’t you think? [He lets her go.] Ah,
now you're letting me go. That’s better. I’ve gained my per-
* head-drink: an important token by which the marriage is legally established;
symbolised by a token sum of money and some drinks, and handed over
formally on behalf of the prospective husband to members of the family ofthe
prospective wife.

18
 Wawa! ; ACT ONB

sonal freedom. Bye! Any time you're ready, bring my head-

drink home to my parents.
And after that, I will stop when you call. I'll take care of your
house. I'll sweep, I'll scrub, I’ll wash your clothes, and I'll
quarrel sweetly with you to your extreme delight. Bye! [She
laughs and skips teasingly off.]
AKwasi: Ah! This girl is killing me. [He turns back in miserable
anger.|
STORYTELLER: I say, young man! Gentleman! [Akwast stops.] If
you know that this girl is in the wrong, why don’t you take her
to court? [AKwast is hesitant.] Sir, have you, by any chance,
performed her head-drink ceremony?
AKWwaAS!: Look, dad, whoever you are, don’t make me wild. [He
stalks out, driven away by jeering laughter from the PLAYERS.|
STORYTELLER: There you are. As I was saying, it is possible for
Ananse to profit from the gifts his daughter’s suitors bring, and
not be bound by any obligation at all.
What craftiness. Also, he has been careful to explain what his
daughter Anansewa stands to gain from his design, but nobody
has heard him making any direct hints about what he personally
will gain. [He shakes his head, smiling.| Ananse! [He pauses
reflectively.] Listen, I have a feeling that he has overdone it a
little. It might well be that Anansewa was right to feel afraid.
The process which Ananse is exploiting to select a husband
for his daughter, and at the same time as a means of getting
maintenance for both of them, is full of snares. What if he can-
not extricate himself? [Listening] I hear footsteps. Is someone
coming?

[He moves aside quickly. POSTMAN enters with a letter in his hand.
He mimes checking the address on the letter against the address of a
house in a street. He finds the house for which he is searching.]

POSTMAN: Here is the address. AW/6615 Lagoon Street. It’s cor-

rect. [Testing the weight of the letter.] This is a letter of some
weight. [He clears his throat.] Is there someone to let me in?
STORYTELLER: [To POSTMAN:] I greet you.
POSTMAN: [Approaching him:] Are you house No. AW/6615?
STORYTELLER: Do I look like a house?
i hah :
19
 ‘POSTMAN: I didn’t mean that, sir. Didn’t mean to
Mr George K. Ananse of this address?
STORYTELLER: May that never be. [ANANSE enters, a faraway look in
his eyes.] But Idon’t think the man you want has gone very far. ‘
He might be that man standing over there. [He joins the
PLAYERS.] a
POSTMAN: [Signalling with the letter] Sir!
ANANSE: Me?
_ POSTMAN: Are you house No. AW/6615 Lagoon Street?
ANANSE: [Feebly] That’s right.
-POSTMAN: Letter for Mr George K. Ananse. “y
ANANSE: [He seizes the letter and studies it, turning it over. Happinessa—
takes over.| I say, Togbe Klu! [To postMan:] It comes from
Akate, does it?
POSTMAN: Seems like it.
ANANSE: (With a dismissing toss ofhis head] Very well, boy, received.
Good morning.
_ POSTMAN: Right you are. [He leaves.]
ANANSE: [Pleased with the contents of the letter] Oh! Oh! Yes, that’s _
the way it’s done. A postal order worth. . . [Heis thrilled.| Oh! —
Oh! Not bad at all. Togbe Klu. Cactus, it’s not bad at all. You
have started to make your inner nature evident. This is just the
way it’s done. [He hurries back home.]

END OF ACT ONE

 Act Two
STORYTELLER: So then, Ananse didn’t toil in vain?
PLAYERS: No.
STORYTELLER: Still, isn’t this the first sign of trouble?
PLAYERS: Well, we shall see.
STORYTELLER: All right, whatever the case may be, we may as well
wish him luck. [To the gong-player:] Calling!

[Gong rhythm. Two women rise, one starting off the song for the
Mboguo.]

MBOGUO
[The two women share the song with the PLAYERS. They dance to
it in a matronly way. STORYTELLER leads them in the dance to
PROPERTY MAN who handsto one ofthem a girdle* with money tied
in a huge knot in it. She ties it round her waist. STORYTELLER
accompanies them back to sit in their places.]

Am I not Odum’sf child?

Am I not Odum’s child?
Oh I hate the sun!
Abenat e,
I'd rather be dead.
* girdle: usually a narrow band of cloth a woman uses to tie her skirt round
her waist, sometimes made roomy enough to serve for a purse as well—a
practice exaggerated in this play.
t Odum: name ofa rich and powerful man in a folktale.
t Abena: daughter of Odum who got married and had not been prepared for
_ the difficulties that she encountered.
Bir he

21
a
SS
ACT TWO . aa
Oh delicate one,
Abena e,
Abena e,
I'd rather be dead.
I never did toil,
Abena e,
Abena e,
I'd rather be dead.
Unseasoned one,
Abena e,
Abena e,
I'd rather be dead.
Oh pitiful one,
Abena e
Abena e
I'd rather be dead.

[PROPERTY MAN sets a chair and a side table when the dance ends.
ANANSE, dressed in a brand-new cloth, enters in good spirits and sits.)

_ ANANSE: Serve my gin here.

[PROPERTY MAN obliges. While ANANSB is sipping his gin the —

song ceases. Promptly, the two women rise in haste and keeping step
with each other move towards ANANSE. They are SAPAASE
MESSENGERS now.]

SAPAASE MESSENGERS: [Together] Agoo!* We are looking for Pa —

Ananse. 4
FIRST MESSENGER: We were told he lived here.
ANANSE: I am Ananse.
SECOND MESSENGER: Is that so? f
TOGETHER: [Curtsying] Oh, then good morning, Pa.
FIRST MESSENGER: We have been sent from Sapaase Palace.
* Agoo!: vocalised knocking.

=z
 ACT TWO

ANANSE: [With great fuss] Chairs! Bring chairs for the messengers
of royalty. [PROPERTY MAN provides chairs.] And water!
Water, instantly! Let the royal travellers have water at once.
[Sitting down himself.] You come from the great one himself,I
know. All is well with us here.
SECOND MESSENGER: That is so.
FIRST MESSENGER: And, to be brief, he sends you greetings.
ANANSE: I respond.

[The water drinking over, the woman with the girdle round her waist
unties it.]

MESSENGERS: And he asks us to place this money in your hands,

He says, he is placing it in your hands so that if the object of his
interest should need anything you will have the wherewithal.
He wants you to understand that in doing this, he does not
mean to say that he wants anything from you immediately.
This is an outright gift. Ifother gifts follow afterwards, he knows
you will understand that he is merely doing what it is beautiful -
to do until the time arrives.

[The MEssENGER with the girdle unties the money and hands it to
ANANSB.]

ANANSE: [Taking the money with trembling hands] Oh, because I per-
fectly understand what he means, I thank him.
FIRST MESSENGER: All right. Then, Pa, that is what brought us
here this morning.
ANANSE: Well done.
SECOND MESSENGER: And because we have some shopping to do
before we return to Sapaase, we would like to be excused.
ANANSE: I understand. You are excused. [The women rise together.]
Tell the Mighty-Tree-Of-Ancient-Origin that I greet him over
and over again. Tell the Guardian-Of-The-Needy, my thanks
in profusion.
MESSENGERS: Right. He will be told. [They start the song ‘Am I Not
Odum’s Child’ again, dance back to their places and stop the music.]
ANANSE: [Hastily counting the money] And how much has the Chief
sent? [He finishes checking.] Oh considerable. [He weighs it.]

23
ACT TWO roe earn, ; ae "

Substantial. Oh, son of the gods, Chief of Sineyou too car

display. [He beckons to PROPERTY MAN.] Come over here, man.
aa "a
Tomorrow is Sunday, isn’t it? [PROPERTY MAN fods agree-
ment.] And the first Sunday of the month, isn’t it? [PROPERTY
MAN agrees.] In that case, tomorrow I’m going to church. [He _
speaks to rhythmic accompaniment from drum and gong:] ;
-
I’m heading for town on a buying spree.
I'll be seen with the best of the spenders,
And when I return expect me to bring
The latest cloth in town,
The latest suit in town.
Yes, tomorrow, I go to church.
To deposit with the best of the spenders.
Those born on Sunday,
Those born on Monday,
Those born on Tuesday.
Yes, tomorrow, I go to church
To deposit with the best of the spenders.
Those born on Wednesday—
You'll see Kweku depositing
Alongside the best of the spenders.

[He beckons to PROPERTY MAN again.]

Come over, man. Go to town and buy every kind of newspaper —

on the market. Search them for notices of all memorial services —
and select for me the one which promises to draw the bigeesas
crowd.
Ah, I’m heading for town on a buying spree.
To purchase clothes for me.
Yes, tomorrow, I go to church
To deposit with the best of the spenders.
Tomorrow I go to church,
Tomorrow I go to church,
Tomorrow I go to church.
ee
ey : ' ACT TWO

[He dances off.]

MBOGUO

[The prayers start humming a church hymn. PROPERTY MAN

sets a collection plate for a playful collection-giving mime. Seating
himself beside it as the priest, he starts calling from ‘Those Born on
Sunday’. At each call some of the PLAYERS line up and walk in
procession to deposit their collections. Some take off various manner-
isms which are unseemly in a church but common enough. The mime
over, the hymn is dropped abruptly, and the Mboguo is brought to an
end with three energetic repetitions of ‘Tomorrow I go to church’.
Workmen enter: CARPENTER, MASON and PAINTER, each
identified by the tool he is carrying.
CARPENTER: Countryman, are you sure this is the house? [He
examines the ceiling with a professional eye.|
MASON: Ask me, and ask me again.
PAINTER: No mistake. Yet, I don’t know whether to say the man
doesn’t match the house, or the house doesn’t match the man.
But we have come exactly where he directed us. [He scans the
walls.|
MASON: As for us, why should we care whether it’s the man who
doesn’t match the house, or the house which doesn’t match the
man? Work is what we're after, and there’s plenty of it here,
and moreover, he is offering it to us. [He examines the floor.]
CARPENTER: Plenty work. We'll be here for three weeks. Not a
bad contract.
MASON: Three? Is something wrong with you? I say, five weeks.
PAINTER: Mason is right. We can’t finish too quickly.
ALL: [Posing stylishly together] At all.
MASON: Look here, Carpenter, if you have found another place
where they want to give you work after you've finished here,
and that’s the reason why you're in a hurry, finish your share
quick, quick, and go.
ALL: [Repeating the stylish pose] At all. We can’t finish too quickly.
At all.
CARPENTER: (Seeing PROPERTY MAN] Are you the steward here?
Mr Ananse called us here.

25
ACT TWO eps BibGines yi

ALL THREE: [Posing again] We come

for service.

[PROPERTY MAN furns to meet ANANSE who is entering in

dressing-gown and sporting a cigar.]

ANANSB: Ah! You have arrived, have you?

ALL: [Posing] Yes, sir.
ANANSB: Excellent. If you ’ll follow me round, I'll show you the —
work. Top priority is this leaking roof. That’s you, Carpenter, —
so listen carefully; particularly in that corner there. Do your _
best to make us waterproof. Now, which is Mason? Yes, you —
with the trowel, of course. I’m ordering new floors in the bed- _
rooms. You'll see in a minute what a shocking state they’re in
Ah, you're the painter. Total painting. In all the rooms.
Follow me. Take a look round the whole house. Smart service —
is what I require. In the very near future, visitors of no mean
station will start coming here to honour us. I give you the con-
tract. Go at it with vigour. Other workers are coming, —
plumbers, electricians . . . [He has led the way out of sight.] .
PAINTER: [In a whisper to MASON] Countryman, we've got the —
man in our pocket.
MASON: I'm telling you.
CARPENTER: Your five weeks is correct. .
MASON: Shut your mouth. We’re doubling it to ten weeks.
ANANSE: [Off] Where are you?
ALL: [Repeating their pose] Coming, sir!

MBOGUO
[The workmen are earnestly at work. Hammering announces that —
CARPENTER is on the job somewhere. From time to time he crosses
the stage energetically like a man with no time to spare. MASON and _
PAINTER are working on stage. MASON keeps calling out: “Con-
crete! Concrete!” PAINTER: ‘Water! Water!’ They are supplied by —
PROPERTY MAN. It is CARPENTER who disrupts work after a
while. He comes in to show his wrist watch to his friends who take his —
hint to quit and break off. Together, they dance stylishly towards the —
PLAYERS who have been singing their work songs with them, and sii
among them.] ;

26 + ng! ee re 5
 ACT TWO

First Song

Who doesn’t like work?

Oh, I love work!
Work, work—
Who doesn’t like work?
Oh, I love work!
Work, work—
This work that I do—
Yes, yes—
Supplies my clothing.
Yes, yes.
This work that I do—
Yes, yes—
Supplies my food.
Yes, yes.
This work that I do—
Yes, yes—
Supplies my cash.
Yes, yes.

Who doesn’t like work?

Oh, I love work!
Work, work.

Second Song
I say, Kwabonyi,*
I'll never envy your wealth.

* Kwabonyi: name of a man.

27
 Kwabonyi, when you toil
Do lift your head for he
Who will spend it
Sits idle somewhere.

[Before the second song ends, PROPERTY MAN Sets a frame with a
gorgeous curtain.| i

STORYTELLER: I said so, oh I did. Ananse is not doing badly for

himself. What he hinted at in a roundabout way is what is
happening before our own eyes. There hasn’t been vi hitch in i
his plans so far. [He reflects.] I wonder if... if.. q
i
[The PLAYERS raise the song ‘Kwabonyi’ again. PROPERTY MAN
brings in a lovely vase offlowers, and looks for a suitable place for it.
Next, he brings in a beautiful garden chair and places it in front ofthe —
curtained frame, a little to the side. He appreciates the pleasant result.
He tests the comfort of the chair.]

STORYTELLER: There before you is more evidence of what I was

telling you. Oh, some time ago, it was bad at home, but maybe —
now it’s getting better.

MBOGUO
[When stORYTELLER starts off the song, he falls luxuriously into
the chair to try it. Several ofthe PLAYERS come dancing along in turn
to follow suit. When they rise from the chair, they admire the general
scene before dancing back to their places.] ‘

Oh, some time ago

It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, some time ago
It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, friends, do look at Kweku Ananse’s amazing ways.
It’s with craftiness solely that he manages his life.

=o
 ACT TWO

Oh, some time ago

Tt was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, some time ago
It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, some time ago
It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, some time ago
It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, friends, do look at Kweku Ananse’s cunning ways.
It’s with falsehoods solely that he manages his life.
Oh, some time ago
It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.
Oh, some time ago
It was bad at home
But maybe now it’s getting better.

[Before the song ends, ANANSE enters dressed in a suit fit for a
business executive. His tie is a beauty.]

ANANSE: If only things would stay as they are a little longer. But
the time is running short on my daughter’s affair. [He sits in the
garden chair, blowing his cheeks from the heat.] Fellow, don’t you
realise how hot it is in the garden today? Bring me some ice-
cream from the ’fridge. [PROPERTY MAN serves him.] Go on,
you! Can’t you sympathise with a man when you can see him
getting hot under the collar? Fetch the electric fan out here to
blow more breeze around me. [PROPERTY MAN rushes to oblige.]
I must not permit events to take [Link] surprise.

[As PROPERTY MAN manipulates a large toy electric fan beside him,
POSTMAN enters.]

29
ACT TWO

POSTMAN: I was sure I was coming to the right house, but

it’s surely not the same. There ought to be a gate here, r
and.
ANANSE: Are you looking for me? 3
POSTMAN: No sir, I’m looking for Mr G. K. Ananse, sir. I thought —
this was AW/6615 Lagoon Street.
ANANSE: [With a smile] You didn’t think wrong. I am he. |
POSTMAN: [He can’t quite believe it] Is that so? [He salutes.] 1 beg
your pardon, sir. Here’s your letter.
ANANSB: [Smiling] You see? They are beginning to salute me. They
are calling me Sir. If only time would stand still for me.
[Becoming business-like.] Well, what have we got this time? [He
opens the letter.]| Good Lord! Again? [He is thrilled.| Oh, they
say, they say, but I’m seeing the truth for myself. Another
cheque! Oh, you whose name is whispered in the ear, you are
scoring goals.
This is your thirteenth cheque to arrive. And the largest
amount you've ever sent. [He sits.] And yet, I’m not at all ~
certain he is the one I would like to win the competition. —
Sitting as he does on mines of gold and diamonds, he can afford
to let money keep flowing abundantly here. But what about
his character? What kind of life will he lead my daughter? Oh,
why doesn’t Chief-Who-Is-Chief increase his pace alittle more?
He would save me from worrying so much. [He shouts at
PROPERTY MAN.] Blow me some more breeze. [He bows his
head deep in thought]

CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF’S MESSENGER: Can I come in? e

e
a
ANANSE: [He rises and stumbles over himself when he sees who has
arrived.] Do. Oh, my goodness, good afternoon!
CHIBF-WHO-IS-CHIEF S MESSENGER: Good afternoon, sir. I’ve
been sent here.
ANANSE: So I see. Take my chair. :
CHIBF-WHO-IS-CHIEF SMESSENGER: I'm talking to Mr George —
Ananse, I presume.
ANANSB: It’s he indeed.

[MESSENGER sits in the chair. PROPERTY MAN brings a chair for,}

ANANSE.|

30
 ped

: ACT TWO

Bring drinks.
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF SMESSENGER: Don’t bother, sir, if it’s for
me. I can’t stay long because of having to be back in time for an
important meeting.
ANANSE: Of course! Whatever you say.
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF’S MESSENGER: I see I need not tell you
who sent mé.
ANANSE: No, indeed. We know.
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF’S MESSENGER: Well. [He clears his throat.]
Chief-Who-Is-Chief greets you, and greets er . . . the daughter?
ANANSE: Yes, yes, we understand perfectly.
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF S MESSENGER: He says he is anxious not
to cause you any kind of inconvenience.
ANANSE: Oh, we know that Chief Who-Is-Chicfiisa most thought-
ful man.
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF $ MESSENGER: So he is letting you know
in good time that er. .. itwon’t be very long before er. . . he
will be completing thepreparations for sending people er...
to come ander...
ANANSE: [Almost plucking the words off she man’s lips] I’m all ears.
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF S MESSENGER: I mean that people will
come to place on the table for you, the head-drink for the lady,
your daughter.
ANANSB: Delicious news! Cut a little whisky with me, Mr Honour-
able. Hey, bring the drinks! [PROPERTY MAN serves. Glasses are
raised.] Sweet news, Mr Honourable. [They drink.] Did he
specify the day?
CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF S$MESSENGER: Oh, yes. Two weeks today.

[ANANSE pauses for a quick calculation.]

ANANSE: That's fine! [He is reflective but happy.]

CHIEF-WHO-IS-CHIEF S MESSENGER: Er... . I do have to be on
my way back, sir, so if you'll excuse me. .
ANANSE: Oh, you're certainly excused. Thanks for your great news.
[He walks a little way with him.] Do drive with care. Go well.
[He becomes reflective again.]

[As MESSENGER bows out, he collides with POSTMAN. |

Fe teh
ACT TWO

POSTMAN: Oh, sorry, sir. [He stares curiously at the departing guest.) "i
ANANSE: Are you back again? j
POSTMAN: You see, sit? Some days it’s to and fro all day long.
Telegram, sir.
ANANSE: From where?
POSTMAN: I’m not supposed to know, sir.

[ANANSE signs for the telegram and returns the receipt.|

Goodbye, sir.
ANANSE: Take this for some cigarettes. [He takes out money.]
POSTMAN: [Eager to take it] Oh, sir, never mind.
ANANSE: Oh, take it, for I’m happy beyond description. "
POSTMAN: Thank you, sir. God bless you. [He bows out.]
ANANSE: He has blessed me in a most amazing way.

[When he tears the telegram open, and reads it, he sinks into the chair
with his eyes popping, and blows his cheeks.] i

Hey, fellow, blow me some breeze. 4

[PROPERTY MAN turns the fan faster.]

What am I going to do? In such a fix, what am I going to do?

(He reads the telegram again aloud.] ‘Announcing messengers’ ar= _
rival to conduct head-drink ceremony for Anansewa after two _
weeks stop greetings stop Chief Sapa.’ Oh spirits, what shall I do?
[Turning on PROPERTY MAN] Hey, haven’t you any sympathy
for a man hit by a storm? Cut off the breeze.

[He sits thinking with his jaws agape. PROPERTY MAN brings in a
spider web screen and screens him off.] "

MBOGUO
[STORYTELLER approaches the web, stands in front of it and calls 4
playfully to ANANSE.] Fr

STORYTELLER: Ananse,

32
 ACT TWO

Ananse Ekuamoa,
Man-is-cunning Ananse!
His mind is far away. It’s as if he weren’t with us here.
Ananse!
George!
George Kweku!
Sir!
He has retreated far, far away. He is nowhere near us. What-
ever is it that could bring him back? A song?

[STORYTELLER, ANANSE and PLAYERS share a song.]

Who is knocking?
Who is knocking?
It’s me.
It’s me.

Who is knocking?
When I'm thinking?
It’s me.
It’s me.

I’m ailing,
I’m ailing.
It’s me.
It’s me.
Stop disturbing,
Stop disturbing.
It’s me.
It’s me.
ANANSE: Ah, my head! Who’s that knocking to disturb me?
STORYTELLER: It’s me!
ANANSE: Oh, stop disturbing,
Stop disturbing.

33
ACT TWO

Ah, the world is hard,

Is hard,
The world is really hard.

[He groans and rises. The spying STORYTELLER retreats in a hurry

from the web to join the PLAYERS.]

STORYTELLER: He is coming.

[ANANSE cautiously draws the web screen aside and steps out from -
behind it. The PLAYERS continue the song softly.]

ANANSE: [Calling PROPERTY MAN:] Man, I need a headache pill.

Don’t you have any sympathy for a man struck by an earth-
quake of a headache? [pRopERTY MAN helps him to take a pill.
The singing gets louder.] Look, that song of yours is disturbing
me, I say. [The singing gets soft again.] Listen, man, to what I
want you to do for me. It’s become necessary for Anansewa to
return home at once. Telephone Tarkwa 30, to the Institute
For Prospective Brides and say that at seven thirty tonight I will
speak to Miss Christina Yamoah.

[The prayers sing loudly again. ANANSE stuffs his ears with his
fingers with irritation and takes to flight. PROPERTY MAN mimes
telephoning vigorously. The song ends with his act.]

END OF ACT TWO

34
Act Three
[Enter AYA, ANANSE’s mother. She is very well dressed in grand-
motherly style, looking as though she has stepped out ofan old photograph.]

AYA:I can’t understand my son Ananse at all. Why does he want an

outdooring ceremony for Anansewa all of a sudden? You
school people say you have thrown these things aside. Very
well, throw them aside. But to wait until five years after the
girl has become a woman, and then say ‘outdoor her’! That’s
not good custom-keeping in anybody’s world.

[Enter EKUWA, ANANSE’S aunt.]

EKUWA: Mn, Aya, are you already here? I see you are keeping your
eyes wide open to make sure that nothing goes wrong with
your grandchild Anansewa’s outdooring. Sit down, we'll be
bringing her outdoors in just a few more minutes.

[She turns for a stool from PROPERTY MAN, and bending sideways,
gives the finishing touches to Ay A’s dress.]

AYA: I’m saying that I can’t see why Kweku is doing this at all. If
the time for doing something passes by, it has passed by.
EKUWA: Ah, Aya. I’ve been trying very hard to explain it to you.
If this grandchild of yours is going to marry a chief, then it is
our duty to prepare her in every way we can for the position:
she will be occupying in a palace.
AYA: All right. Whatever it may be, I’m happy to see my Anansewa
conducting herself in the manner that graces a woman. You
don’t know what feelings are breaking and ebbing like waves
inside me because of this ceremony we are performing. This
wave brings happiness, that one brings pride, and another,

35
 ACT THREE ;
: ¥
sadness. Yes, it is true that you and I are here doing all we can, ;
and yet when I remember that the person who should be here
as well, bustling around Anansewa, is her own mother, then,
my sister Ekuwa, a wave of sorrow crests up inside me,
mangling my innards. [She starts to dirge.] And it isn’t as though
she is where we could send her a telegram to say, ‘come’. It
isn’t as though we could send a messenger by taxi to fetch her.
[She is about to wail seriously.] Truly, death has done some
wickedness.
EKUWA: [Quickly] Aya, I’m on my knees to you, don’t start
doing that at all. I don’t believe you want to ruin Anansewa’s
joy-
AYA: [Desisting] Is my grandchild Anansewa enjoying what we're
doing for her? Does she like this outdooring of hers?
EKUWA: She is enjoying it so much, I’m surprised. She keeps on
asking questions in order to learn as much as she can.
AYA: Very well. And where és that woman?
EKUWA: Auntie Christina Yamoah? She is dressing our child. She
has nearly finished dressing her hair.
AYA: Tell her she mustn’t ruin my grandchild with too much
fanciful dressing. The woman is senselessly extravagant.

[curisTIE, rushing past, notices them there. She is MISS CHRIS-

TINA YAMOAH, a fashionable woman.]}

curisTiE: [Dabbing her face with her handkerchief] Ah, mother, are
you seated already? Anansewa is ready. How I’ve dressed up my
daughter! Oh, I nearly forgot . . . [She dashes out.]
AYA: Ekuwa.
EKUWA: Aya.
AYA: You see that woman?
EKUWA: Yes.
AYA: I’m telling you today, for your information, that she is 3
serving my son Kweku too hard. a
EKUWA: Do you think so? .
AYA: I’ve dressed up my daughter Anansewa’, indeed! When did _
my grandchild become her daughter? And also, whom is she —
calling mother? Me? .
EKUWA: Aya, she is just trying to be helpful. Because our child is in

36
4a: | ACT THREE
training with her, Kweku specially invited her to come and
help, and she came.
AYA: [Snorting] The way I see it, she is leaning her ladder on my
grandchild in order to climb up to my son.

[c1rts raise their song in the distance.]

EKUWA: There’s no time now for us to discuss her. That’s Anan-

sewa’s friends coming over to bring her out. Won't you let us
meet them with joy?

[She snatches up her stole, meets the GIRLS as they enter, and crosses
through with them.]

Aba* e,
We've come to perform.
Aba e,
We've come to perform.
Let it be perfect,
A gift from God.
We've come to perform.
Let it be perfect,
A child from God.
We've come to perform.
Let it be perfect.
Aba e,
We've come to perform.
Abae,
We've come to perform.
Let it be perfect,
Blessing from God.
We've come to perform.
Let it be perfect.
* Aba: approximately, “We're on our way; here we come.’

ei ete : »
37

es ios .
 ACT THREE ~

Aba e,
We've come to pi
Aba e, a
We've come to perform,
Let it be perfect.
aya: Ah, bring out my precious bead. My bota* bead, my gold
child.

[PROPERTY MAN places ANANSEWA’S chair. The GIRLS raise

their song again and bring her out, carrying her gracefully, preventing
her feet from touching the ground. A veil covers her face. AYA sits
down and waits for the song to end.]

AYA: [Rising] Anansewa, my grandchild, it is what we know to be —

beautiful that we are doing for you. Today, this old lady will
really dance. She will dance. Calling! [Gong rhythm begins. She
ei
starts off the song.]
My Anansewa,
Oho!
Pure gold gracing her,
Oho!
Sandals gracing her,
Oho!
Honour gracing her,
Oho!
Courting her, they rail at me,
Courting her, they rail at me.
When I bear a child with her
They nurse it on their backs.
[Speaking:] At the very crack of dawn, we cleansed you. We
clipped your nails, we shaved you. With new sponge and new
soap, and with life-giving water, we bathed you. Today, this
old lady will dance. Calling! [Gong rhythm.]
* bota: one of the most famous and precious of beads, known as the
ieAse 4
bead. é

38
 ACT THREE

Courting her, they rail at me

Courting her, they rail at me
When I bear a child with her
They nurse it on their backs.
[Speaking:] We squeezed lime on your head to season you, so
that when life’s hardships approach, you will be capable of
standing firm to field them. Oh, my! It’s because we're doing
things right that this old lady is dancing, Anansewa. Calling!
[Gong rhythm.]
Courting her, they rail at me
Courting her, they rail at me
When I bear a‘child with her
They nurse it on their backs.
[Speaking:] Ah, Anansewa, my grandchild, in your name, we
have sprinkled sacred palm-oiled yam. We have touched your
lips with an egg to invoke blessings for you, and we have
adorned you with gold to honour you. Oh, my! Let the old _
lady step it out, do. Calling! [Gong rhythm.]
Courting her, they rail at me
Courting her, they rail at me
When I bear a child with her
They nurse it on their backs.
[Speaking:] Oh listen, everyone. This day, I am declaring to the
public, that what we know to be beautiful, we have done fo:
this child of ours. ;
GIRLS: Well done. And you have done it perfectly.

[They unveil ANANSEWA.]

ExUWA: Ah, here’s a lovely thing. Oh, let me give service to my

child. Man, give me my child’s brass bowl. [She runs to receive
it, half filled with water, from PROPERTY MAN, and places it in
public view.] Anansewa, it’s for you I’m spending my energy.
[She returns for nyanya leaves.] Sir, give me the nyanya,* please.
* nyanya: a vine used in ritual ceremonies, believed to have the power to purge
and avert evil forces, and to purify.
>

39
ACT THREE

Anansewa, my child of beauty, we are doing it, and doing some

more. [She drops the leaves in the water.] Sir, now give me the
egg for my child’s soul. [She gets it.] Anansewa, look, here is
your soul’s egg. I place it before you. May it attract good for-
tune for you.

[She places it in front ofANANSEWA. Enter CHRISTIE. She walks

daintily over to stand beside the brass bowl. PROPERTY MAN places
something in her outstretched hand.}

CHRISTIE: I will be the first to place my gift in this brass bowl.

Anansewa, my darling, I never thought I would part with this
sovereign in my hand. And yet, you see what love’s power can
do? When Georgie told me you were to be outdoored, I nearly
went mad with joy. I asked myself, “What on earth shall I give
Anansewa, my sweetie?’ I said, I'll give her something I value.
Therefore, here is this sovereign which is so precious to me.
Take it, it’s yours, my dear. Things go where they belong. It is
not as though I were throwing it away on some stranger.

[She drops the coin into the water and walks back without noticing
AYA’s disapproving face. She takes a position directly behind
ANANSEWA. EKUWA picks up the egg, and passes it over ANAN-
sEwa’'s head with an arching gesture. CHRISTIE receives it and
places it right behind ANANSEWA. Some of the GIRLS now give
their gifts.]

GIRLS: [Taking turns] Anansewa, you are now ready to marry.

Anansewa, you will give birth to thirty.
Anansewa, may your life be healthy.

[When each one places her gift in the brass bowl, or beside ANAN-
SEWA, EKUWA and CHRISTIE see to it that the egg is passed over
from one side to the other. As soon as the last girl has made her state-
ment, the GIRLS break into song and surge round ANANSEWA in
dance.|

40
 ACT THREE

Sensemise* e
We welcome you this day.
Sensemise e
We welcome you this day.
Sensemise e
Welcome to you.
Anansewa,
We welcome you this day.
Anansewa,
We welcome you this day.
Anansewa,
Oh, welcome to you,
Anansewa,
We welcome you this day,
Anansewa,
_ Oh, welcome to you.
AYA: Now, quiet everyone; and let me make my statement. Where
is my son?
curistiE: [Walking offwith great fuss] Georgie! Georgie! Mother is
calling you.
AYA: [Staring in disapproval but controlling herself] This would not
normally be a time when men mix with us. But I do want my
son to stand here while I give my gift to this grandchild of mine.
[Calling him herself:] Kweku!

[ANANSE enters, cHRIsTIE holding his hand.]

ANANSE: Am I wanted among the women?

CHRISTIE: Yes, your mother wants you.
ANANSE: I’m here, mother.
AYA: Lady, if you can manage it, let go of my son’s hand for a while.
[cHRISTIB releases her hold and returns to her place.] Kweku,
come close to this brass bowl and listen. My grandchild
Anansewa, your old lady knows something about what is of
teal value in this world. You notice that this outstretched hand
of mine is empty, it contains nothing. And yet, this same empty
* Sensemise: a refrain word expressing a sense of‘joy.

4
 ACT THREE

hand will succeed in placing a gift into your brass bowl. What
this hand is offering is this prayer of mine. May the man who
comes to take you from our hands to his home be, above all
things, a person with respect for the life of his fellow human
beings; a man who is incapable of . . .
ANANSE: [Anxious to prevent whatever follows from being said, he
bursts forth with exaggerated joy.] Hey. She is speaking! She’ is
speaking! Old lady is speaking! Girls, get your throats vibrating!
[He himself starts singing and dancing.]
Sensemise e
We welcome you this day.

[He gets the help he desires from the Gris. Singing and ine
takes over.|

BKUWA: We have finished. We are taking our girl away.

[Taking up their song again, the GIRLS carry ANANSEWA back,

accompanied by AYA and BKUWA. ANANSE is still dancing when
POSTMAN arrives.]

POSTMAN: Oh sir, are you dancing?

ANANSB: Hello, there. Do you bring sweet news?
posTMAN: Ah, sir, if God wishes it so. Here’s a telegram. It comes
from ..
ANANSE: Yes, my detective. Tell me everything about it, then. Tell
me from where, and from whom it comes, and the message it
contains.

[PosTMAN hangs his head in embarrassment. ANANSE signs for the

telegram and returns the receipt. Left alone, he reads it, and what he
reads pleases him so much that he reads it aloud.|

“Anansewa’s ceremony makes your wisdom evident stop well-

done for furthering her education in this manner stop. [He
frowns.] Appropriate this day to declare my thoughts to you
. [ANANSE gets stuck.] That, that, . .’ [When he speaks
again he is nasal.] Oh, where am I going to turn? *. . . that not

TT
 a ACT THREE

wanting to waste any more time I am coming to present the

head-drink for her stop Togbe Klu.’ [He calls:] Christie!
Christie!
CHRISTIE: [Rushing] George, what’s wrong with you?
ANANSE: Christie, my head aches.
CHRISTIE: [To PROPERTY MAN :]Bring aspirin or anything to stop
a headache. Man, hurry.
ANANSE: All of a sudden, an earthquake has erupted in my head.
[He takes the pill from curistiz.] Haven’t you finished with
the ceremony? See to bringing it quickly to an end.
CHRISTIE: [Getting him water for taking the pill] But George, where
does a sudden headache like this come from?
ANANSE: There’s no time for questions. See to dispatching the
guests, because I’m anxious for silence in this house. It’s become
necessary for me to think.
CHRISTIE: [Puzzled] All right, George, the house will quieten down
for you. I'll do whatever gives you pleasure. [On her way out
she remembers something and whistles.] Oh, George! Goodness, if
T overlook things in this manner, how do I apologise?

[She turns back and takes a telegram from PROPERTY MAN, but the
GIRLS interrupt her as they come through singing and dancing.]

GIRLS: Stay away from that town,

Never go down there.
Stay away from that town,
Never go down, down there.
It’s a town where cripples
Climb into your bed, bed, bed.
Stay away from that town,
Never go down, down there.
[Halting briefly] Bye bye, daddy!

[ananss fakes a smiling face and waves back at them.]

Bye bye, Auntie Christie!

CHRISTIE: Bye bye, slender threads. [When they have passed through,
she gives the telegram to ANANSE.] Listen, this telegram was

\ 43
ACT THREE

brought, just this afternoon. It’s yours. Do you know where it

comes from? And I was idiotic enough to forget it. Believe me,
it was because we were so busy that it escaped my mind.
George will forgive Christie, won’t he? [ANANSE turns the
telegram over and over without opening it.] Won't you read it?
It comes from the Mines. Do you know, Georgie, up to this
day you don’t tell me precisely what is engaging you, so that
I'll be informed. I had no idea we have now turned our
attention to the Mines people. I was thinking that our attention
was strongly concentrated on Chief-Who-Is-Chief. [ANANSE
is dazed and still turning the telegram over and over.] Won't you
read it?
ANANSE: [Irritably] Stop, Christie. I’ve told you I want it quiet here.
Even you will have to be quiet. Hm.
curistiE: [Embarrassed] Really? All right. [She leaves him alone.]
ANANSE: [He opens the telegram and reads it aloud.| “The day after
tomorrow I am sending to .. .’ [His jaw drops. He is nasal when
he speaks again.] Just the day after tomorrow?

[PROPERTY MAN places a web screen. ANANSE drags himself

backwards to hide behind it. ANANSEWA enters.]

ANANSEWA: I never imagined that this ceremony would touch me

so much. I have a lovely feeling inside my heart. [She re-enacts
parts of the ceremony close to where her father is hiding.]
“Anansewa, you are a woman now. Anansewa, it is what we
know to be beautiful that we are doing for you. We have
touched your lips with an egg to bless you, and we have dressed
you in gold to honour you.’

[She mimes the passing of the egg.]

‘Good fortune accompany you always.’

[She sings “Sensemise’ and dances round for a while.]

But where is father? Father! Father, where are you? [She

catches sight of him, watching her from behind the screen, and is
startled.|
 ACT THREE
Oh bine is that you? But why has your manner changed so?

[ANANSE pops out and stands beside the web.]

Why do you seem so far away?

[ANANSE doesn’t reply.]

I want to tell you what a lovely feeling I have inside me, and
thank you.
ANANSE: [Staring fixedly at her] My daughter.
ANANSEWA: Father.
ANANSE: Are you happy?

[The expression on his face alarms ANANSEWA.]

ANANSEWA: I thought I was happy.

ANANSE: Why do you say you thought? What makes you think you
are not happy now?
ANANSEWA: I can’t think what it is.
ANANSE: [Sighing] The world is puzzling,
Is puzzling,
The world is really puzzling.
ANANSEWA: Father, don’t talk so sadly on such a day, please.
ANANSE: My daughter.
ANANSEWA: Father.
ANANSE: Are you well?
ANANSEWA: [Emphatically] Yes!
ANANSE: You believe that?
ANANSEWA: [Now very uneasy] Oh, I thought I was well. Oh, why
has my mind become so confused?

[She hasn't noticed it, but PROPERTY MAN has placed a web screen
right behind her.}

Now, I don’t know if I’m well and happy, or if I’m not well,
and unhappy too.
ANANSBE: [Darting closer to her] Open your eyes wide, and let me see.
ANANSEWA: What? Very well, I’ve opened them.

45
 “ope Paes ee

ACT THREE ‘,

ANANSE: [Peering into her eyes] Shut them tight.

ANANSEWA: [Smiling a little and obliging] I’ve shut them tight.
ANANSE: Mhm. Stiffen your limbs. |
ANANSEWA: [Opening her eyes] For what reason? [She laughs.] Very
well, I have stiffened my limbs. [She does so.}
ANANSE: Do it properly. I want you to look as though you are
dead.
ANANSEWA: What do you mean? [She laughs.] I have never died
before.
ANANSE: My daughter, I implore you, don’t waste time. What I’m
doing is in serious preparation.
ANANSEWA: [Understanding nothing at all] Preparation?
ANANSE: Yes, my daughter, stiffen yourself.
ANANSEWA: [Doing so with laughter] There you are. Are you
satisfied?
ANANSE: [Very pleased] It’s really coming right. Try not to move
any part of your body. [ANANSEWA tries.] Oh yes, it’s really
coming right. And now, can’t you stop breathing a little? Can’t
you hold your breath?
ANANSEWA: [Finding this too much] Hold my breath! I shouldn’t
breathe? As for that, definitely no, I can’t do it, and will
not.
ANANSE: Oh, but my daughter, it’s necessary for you to die!
ANANSEWA: Me? [Words fail her.] But father, I’m alive. I’m open-
eyed. How can I switch my life off and on like electricity?
ANANSE: Don't spout silly jokes, you don’t understand what we are
doing.
ANANSEWA: Then make me understand; because this game you're _
playing is full of mystery. I don’t like it.
ANANSE: My daughter.
ANANSEWA: Father.
ANANSE: You are forcing me to tell you that those four people are
coming. Just coming? They are rushing here. Sprinting.
ANANSEWA: Who?
ANANSE: Oh, dear! Who else but the four chiefs? [ANANSEWA is
still in the dark.] They are racing here like fire blazing through
grass.
ANANSEWA: What four chiefs are racing here?
ANANSE: Oh-h-h, dear! Rouse your memory if it’s asleep, and
 ACT THREE

_ remember. I tell you there is no time to waste. Each chief’s

messengers are on their way, urgently sent to place your head-
drink on the table.
ANANSEWA: [Exploding with laughter] And how does such a
situation become possible?
ANANSE: It is possible, my child. It is seriously possible. ‘
ANANSEWA: It’s not one bit possible; so why are you insisting it is?
ANANSE: Look at how we are standing here wasting time. Anan-
sewa, if I say it’s possible, believe me. I tell you that each chief is
coming running to claim you as his wife.
ANANSEWA: [Laughing] Over my dead body.
ANANSE: [Starting] Ah, young lady, how clever you are. Is it some
spirit which inspired you to say that?
ANANSEWA: I repeat, over my dead body. How can they claim me
as their own? [Laughter chokes her.] They are coming to claim
me as their own indeed! They dare not.
ANANSE: [Distressed] If |were you, I wouldn’t say so emphatically
that they dare not. Why can’t they dare? They can dare.
ANANSEWA: Father, why? All that aside, why do you say ‘they’?
Why don’t you say ‘he’, the single one?
ANANSE: [His eyes darting] Are you asking me why?
ANANSEWA: Yes, why? Because I know that it’s only one chief
we are expecting to come. And as far as that person is con-
cerned, he cannot come too quickly for me. I’m waiting for
him asleep and awake. As for the other three chiefs, my father,
you made them take their minds off me long ago, remember.
Right at the beginning, you refused to accept gifts from their
hands.
ANANSE: [Groaning] Ah, children! Ah! Children are so pathetic.
Anansewa, that’s not all there is to this affair.
ANANSEWA: Well, you did deliver me from their hands, didn’t
you? As far as they are concerned, didn’t the affair become a
case of no-sale-no-payment? [She thinks this very funny.]
ANANSE: Such childishness. What does one do to make children
_ understand that the ways of the world are complicated?
_ ANANSEWA: [Realisation dawning on her] Father!
ANANSE: [Tired] My daughter. You are calling me ‘father’ to say
you have compassion for me, aren’t you?
ANANSEWA: [Ready to flare up] 1 am calling you father to tell you
*

47
 ACT THREE

that if what has happened is that you've been telling me a lie,

I'll be deeply shocked.
ANANSE: [Harassed] Look, Anansewa, don’t torture me, or I’ll stop
killing my brains in your interest. I myself will die instead, and
leave you to your own desires in this wicked world. What is it
you're calling a lie in this crazy world?
ANANSEWA: [Out of control] I don’t know anything about the
world...
ANANSE: Indeed you don’t. You needn’t declare it.
ANANSEWA: What I know is that you are my father, you asked me
to trust you. You asked me to leave the four chiefs situation in
your hands for you to disentangle.
ANANSE: Yes, I did say so. I asked you to trust me.
ANANSEWA: Thereafter, you told me emphatically that all was
going well, the way it should.
~ ANANSE:I did. Oh, the world is hard.
ANANSEWA: And after that, why did you send me to the Institute
for Prospective Brides?
ANANSE: [Unable to stand it any longer] I sent you there to place you
far, far away from the range of young men’s rampaging eyes,
to get prepared for marriage.
ANANSEWA: In that case, my memory is not asleep. I clearly
remember that when I was going away, you were absolutely
sure there was one man alone for whose sake you were sending
me there to get prepared.
ANANSE: [With cunning] I had no idea I was doing wrong. And
now, see how things have turned against me. I’ve wearied
myself for you in vain. I’ve spent sums of money on you in
vain; and further, the interest of somebody’s son has blazed in
you in vain. I’m tremendously sorry to realise you don’t love
the man after all.
ANANSEWA: [Pained] But father, why are you confusing me like
this? I, Anansewa, I don’t love Chief-Who-Is-Chief? [Her tears
are close.| Now I see what has happened. [She is scared.] Have
you, by any chance, gone to Chief-Who-Is-Chief, and told
him that I don’t love him, and ruined everything? [Cunning
laughter from ANANSE.] He has gone and told him that. Oh, the
whole affair has ended. It’s turned to wind. He has finished me.
[She breaks into song.]
|
48
 ACT THREB

My heart, my heart,
Stop beating,
My heart, my heart.
The chance has turned to wind,
To wind, wind, wind.
Oh, Anansewa,
Oh, Anansewa,
Oh, Anansewa,
Anansewa, Anansewa.

My heart, my heart,
You're lonely,
My heart, my heart.
The chance has turned to wind
To wind, wind, wind.
ANANSE: I’m amazed that you can sing such a soulful love-song
when you are not willing to do what you must do to get the
man for a husband.
ANANSEWA: You mean that I am not willing to do what I must do —
to get Chief-Who-Is-Chief? I don’t know what to think any
longer now. You have confused me completely.
ANANSE: What I mean is that the chance has not turned to any
‘wind, wind, wind’. Be willing to think with me; help me to
implement what I have planned. Yes, discipline yourself and do
what it has become necessary to do, and see if you don’t get the
man you say you love.
ANANSEWA: Why didn’t you say that straightaway? Tell me
quickly what it is that Imust do. Say it, and stop my heart from
breaking. I’m ready. [She has moved until she is right behind the
web screen by now.]
ANANSE: Are you wholeheartedly, or only halfheartedly ready?
ANANSEWA: From head to toe, I’m ready.
ANANSE: [Grasping her hand happily] Ah, how greatly relieved Iam.
I’m worn out.

[He leads her by the hand to step out from behind the web, and
whispers in her ear as ifhe is briefing her. ANANSEWA nestles her
head on his shoulder. Enter cur1ST12.]

3 49
 ~ ACT THREE

CHRISTIE: [Coming upon them] Georgie! Ah, such a lovely sight!

The one-and-only and her father sharing their secrets. That’s
- just as it should be. [Moving closer, she notices ANANSEWA’S
troubled face.] Anansewa, darling! Ho, my child, what’s worry-
ing you; anger or what? George, have you done something
wrong? Darling, don’t mind him, eh? Ah George, what’s
wrong with her?
ANANSE: Christie, I need help.
CHRISTIE: Then here I am, aren’t 1? Command me.
ANANSE: Anansewa is a child.
curistiz: No doubt about that. She is a baby at the breast.
ANANSE: Youand I must do our best to explain to her a bit about
the nature of life’s entanglements.
CHRISTIE: Thank you for saying you and me. My child, will you
permit Auntie Christie and Dada dear to help you understand
a few things?

[ANANSEWA Slips away from ANANSE to take refuge in CHRISTIE'S

bosom.]

You see? She will permit us.

AYA: [Coming upon them] If someone else were me, she would ask
the reason for this talking in whispers with your heads in a
huddle. Kweku, I want you people to release my daughter to
me so that I can feed her. Come, my grandchild.

[ANANSEWA flies into her arms, and AYA takes her precious one
away.]

CHRISTIE: Georgie, whatever it is that is worrying you and

affecting Anansewa on such a day, why don’t you tell me?
ANANSE: Christie, I must do something fast, or else a roaring fire
that is racing here will consume me.
CHRISTIE: Take the veil off whatever the trouble is and inform me
so that I’ll understand. Once I know what kind of trouble it is,
I can help.
ANANSE: My mother and aunt should leave. They are leaving for
Nanka immediately.
CHRISTIE: So suddenly?

59
=
 ACT THREB

_ ANANSE: Immediately. They must not stay here to see what it has
become necessary for me to do, because they won’t understand.
They'll be scared.
curisTiE: [She doesn’t understand] Well, perhaps I’ll understand in
due course.
ANANSE: [In a daze] This very night, I must begin the task. I must
do everything in my power to untie the knot I tied myself. I’ve
got to succeed in untying it, or else . . . it will be disastrous for
me.
cuRisTIE: [Uneasy] George, George. [ANANSE starts.] What do
you wish me to do? Name it. Say it.
ANANSE: Go and make arrangements for a taxi to take my mother
and aunt away. Don’t waste any time bargaining on the price,
CHRISTIE: [On her way] I must say that this hot haste is truly
mysterious.
ANANSE: Go, Christie.
CHRISTIE: George, darling, easy. I’m going.
ANANSE: [His mind off curist1z] And I am going to see my
mother and aunt and find a way by which to give them a hint
about their departure.
curisTiE [To herself] Why doesn’t he tell me what the trouble is?
Well, here I go. This man George! For how long am I going to
serve him before I get him? Oh Georgie!
ANANSE: [Roused by his name] Yes?
CHRISTIE: [Embarrassed at the thought that she has been overheard] I
called you, did I? Oh, George, I wasn’t even aware I did. As for
your name, it’s always on my lips.

[She leaves. ANANSE watches her until she’s out ofsight and laughs.]

ANANSE: I know that Christie happens to be an experienced,

worldly-wise woman. I know she is capable of helping me to
do what I have planned. Mother and aunt are another matter.
Whatever can I tell them to induce them to depart? Oh, my
head!

[In his distress he talks to the world at large.]

Do you see what is happening to me? Very well, look at how

$1
 iges35 ‘Has ty me.

Sh
_ ACT THREE

I’m cornered, and if you so desire, laugh at me. It’s no one else’s
fault but mine that no fewer than four chiefs are invading me
to claim my one daughter, and terrifying me into this state.
But let me tell you this: if you are merely human like me,
you'd better make your laughter brief, because in this world,
there is nobody who is by-passed by trouble.

[He holds out his hand for a handkerchief from PROPERTY MAN,
and sobs into it.]

The world is hard,

The world is hard,
The world is really hard.
AYA: [Entering to find him in this state] My son, is this weeping you’re
weeping? What’s the matter?
ANANSE: [Wringing out the handkerchief] Mother!
“AYA: My stalwart son. :
ANANSE: Mother. [He returns the handkerchief, and acting like a man
in conflict, yells out:] Destroyers! Evil-doers! They won’t rest
until they have ruined me. Enemies whose outward appearance
makes you think they are not enemies.
AYA: [Wide-eyed with confusion] Enemies? It’s that woman Christie,
isn’t it? The minute I met that woman here I felt instinctively
that trouble marches alongside people of her kind.
ANANSE: [Bursting into tears afresh] Handkerchief!

[PROPERTY MAN supplies him again.]

AYA: [Completely lost] Stop, Kweku. [She calls out:] Ekuwa! Run
over here, Kweku is crying. My son, have I said something bad?
ANANSE: Instead of packing up your things promptly and going
where my enemies are to fight them for me, you stand there
uselessly—and falsely—blaming poor Christie.
AYA: I apologise, I shouldn’t have said that. Drop it. Ekuwa! Come
and help me to apologise to Kweku.
ANANSE: It isn’t any apology that will help me. It is necessary for
you to return home, because it’s there the trouble has occurred.
AYA: Home?
ANANSE: Yes. Our home-town Nanka itself. Someone has just

$2
Pa
ri a‘ :
la es iy
ee }
; ; ACT THREB

reported to me that . . . that enemies have set fire to our hope.

Our cocoa farm.
AYA: What, the cocoa? Ekuwa!
ANANSE: There is the telephone; still tingling with the news.
EKUWA: [Tidying herself up as she enters] I heard a call for me.
What's the matter? I heard someone saying ‘cocoa’.
ANANSE: My capital which I invested in our family land is all
ruined. All those lovely cocoa trees, wasted. They say that
flames are raging through them.
AYA: Ekuwa, they have finished us!
EKUWA: Didn't I say so? Did I not turn prophet and prophesy that
as soon as the people of Nanka see a little improvement in our
circumstances, skin-pain will seize them?
ANANSE: [Suffering] People are bad! [He moves close to the web and
watches from there.]
AYA: People of Nanka! I’m going into reverse for you to watch and
rejoice. My clothes are going to fade again, my blouse will get
ragged enough for my breasts to flap through to give you
reason to mock me. I knew it would not satisfy you if I didn’t
temain in rags to the end of my life.
ANANSE: People are bad! .
EKUWA: People of Nanka! Laugh with satisfaction, then. Kweku’s -
car will no longer arrive in Nanka and park outside the house
of the Nsona clan.* Our hope having burnt down to ashes,
how is he going to afford spare parts and petrol and tyres? You
who have successfully lamed and ruined him, rejoice then.
Pound fufu and eat it served with chicken groundnut soup in
happy celebration of this victory of yours.
AYA: am already an old woman. I’m abandoning myself for death
to take me away.
ANANSE: Mother, don’t die to give our enemies greater joy.
EKUWA: My sister with whom I come from the same nest, don’t
leave me behind. We will link our wings and suffer this
adversity together. [She ties her top clotht to aya’s.] Kweku, if
your mother goes, I follow her. Should Isit alone in the court-
yard of the Nsona clan house to suffer mockery from the
tongues of Nanka citizens? I couldn’t.
* Nsona clan: one of a number of principal clans.
{ top cloth: a two-yard piece of cloth used as a stole.

53
-. ACT THREE

ANANSE: How miserable I am. There’s no lack of people who will

weep for me. But as for people who will rise and get going to
deal with my troubles, I haven’t got a single one. Ah! Has the
Nsona spirit become so weak that these days any hunchback
may kick us with impunity?
AYA: [Stung by the comment into great self-assertion] Who said so?
Who said our spirit is maimed? While I breathe? My son, you
have said it right, I will not die to give our enemies greater joy.
I will not hear news of this nature and sleep on it here tonight.
I will not allow the wicked ones, whoever they are, to sleep in
peace tonight. What! Ekuwa, I’m off at once to Nanka to
sweep up these offspring of vipers and punish them.
EKUWA: I'm going with you. Cheer up, Kweku, we are not dead
yet. [They rush away, linked by their cloths.]
ANANSE: [Moving away from the web] Listen, a taxi will soon be here
to take you. Hurry up and pack just a few of your things. [He
smiles but his eyes are restless.] Why have they believed me so
quickly without subjecting me to close investigation? [He
moves near the web again.]
[Enter curisTIz, addressing someone off stage.]
CHRISTIE: Yes, indeed, this is the house of Mr G. K. Ananse. Oh,
taxi drivers! What comes out of their mouths sometimes is
most amusing. He is calling me Mrs Ananse. [Quite swollen-
headed] Mrs Ananse, eh? It does sound good. [She is not aware
that ANANSE is watching her. She calls out to the driver:] My in-
laws are coming right away, be patient.
[Turning, she notices ANANSE, and is startled.]
Oh, I didn’t notice you in the corner there.
ANANSE: [Moving towards her] I know you didn’t notice.
CHRISTIE: Really, what comes out of the mouths of taxi drivers
sometimes is most amusing.
ANANSE: You have heard things you want to hear, haven’t you?

MBOGUO
[PLAYERS start the song ‘I’m Down in a Pit’. ANANSE, AYA,

54
 Mi ts %
ane
paid a. ACT THREE

EKUWA, CHRISTIE and PROPERTY MAN mime a hurried carting

out of luggage by chain service. Now and again it is clear that the
song belongs to AYA and EKUWA and affects them most.]

I’m down in a pit

And dying.
I’m down in a pit
And dying.
Oh Yaa Baduwa!*
I’m down in a pit
And dying.
I’m down in a pit
And dying.
I love work, love work,
Work sickens now.
Oh, go tell my mother
I’m down in a pit
And dying.
Oh my clan.
I’m down in a pit
And dying.

[The song ends with just ANANSE and AYA in transit.]

AYA: [On her way out now] My grandchild Anansewa is enjoying

such a deep sleep that I’m reluctant to wake her. When she
wakes up, explain that my departure was an emergency.
[Hesitating] Or shall Iwake her? [AN ANSE catches her by the arm,
diverting her.]
EKUWA: [In a great hurry on her way out] Let’s go, Aya, for the
journey ahead of us is a long one.
ANANSE: That’s true. What matters now is time. Investigate until
you discover who it is that wants to ruin us.
AYA and EKUWA: You just wait!
ANANSE: I don’t know ifthere’s a possibility that my informant has
exaggerated.
* Yaa Baduwa: name of the woman in distress in the song.

55
ACT THREE
"
7 2

AYA: My son, once we arrive atNanka, the truth will be revealed. _

[ANANSE follows them out.]

STORYTELLER: I can’t laugh enough. Ifthis storyofAnanse’s were

ending just here, I would laugh until my ribs protested. I wish
I could have one eye looking on at Nanka as the taxi arrives
with these two respectable ladies.
They will already be wailing while they are landing, or if
they have chosen to be furious instead, they will be clamorous
with insults. How bewildered Nanka citizens will be! I tell you,
that if this were the end of the story, I wouldn’t stop laughing,
But, friends, the branches of this story of the Marriage of
Anansewa have multiplied. Here comes one of them.

[Enter CHRISTIE walking pensively in from outside. Her eyes are

“ staring at STORYTELLER, though she is not addressing him. He
stands aside to watch her.]

CHRISTIE: Whatever is George doing? Why doesn’t he explain it

[Link]?
STORYTELLER: Sister, don’t ask me, he is your George.
CHRISTIE: It wasn’t to you I was talking, brother. I was thinking,
and my thoughts escaped. [To herself again] However, when I
talked with him a little while ago, he did smile on me. Can it
be that he sees I’m toiling for him? [She sings:]
Can he see?
Can he see
That I love him
And toiling for him f
Till I weary?
Georgie!
That he may smile on me.

[ANANSE, entering unexpectedly, watches her unseen. On the next

round, he sings with her and dances with her showing that what he
hears pleases him. curtst18 is thrilled.]

56
 ACT THREE

~ ANANSE: Itis possible that I do see you are toiling for me. I can
believe you are the one, more than anyone else I know in this
world, who can assist me to do a deed of mine, which I’m
forced to do in this house. Christie.
CHRISTIE: [Lovingly] Georgie. Speak.
ANANSE: From this evening through all day tomorrow until sunset
the next day, we have something to do here which, to tell the
truth, I couldn’t call easy without lying.
CHRISTIE: Command me!
ANANSE: [Taking her hand] Very well, let’s go and wake up Anan-
sewa.

[curisTIE starts her song again. They dance off. The PLAYERS
now move out to the song “Yaw Barima’* which ironically says
Ayekoo!} to ANANSE, as would be said to a person who is hard at
some. honest work or trying to cope with a tough experience.}

Yaw Barima
Ayekoo!
Yaw Barima
Ayekoo!
Yaw Barima,
I was beaten by the rain.
Yaw Barima,
Its after-drippings
Made father die.

Yaw Barima
Ayekoo!
Ee
Yaw Barima,
I was beaten by the rain.
Yaw Barima,

* Yaw Barima: name of the man who has managed to endure the tragic
experience in the song; the name Barima connotes a man of bravery.
f Ayckoo!: a standard expression of congratulation, addressed to someone
working hard, or who has achieved something by hard labour.

57
END OF ACT THREE
 Act Four
[The prayers have reassembled below the stage. Two WOMEN rush on
to the stage with a half-dirging, half-weeping act. It is difficult to de-
termine ifthey are pretending or serious].

FIRST WOMAN: How could it happen?

They called in Dispenser* Hammond.
SECOND WOMAN: How could this thing happen?
They called in Dispenser Hammond,
TOGETHER: Oh, Dispenser Hammond!
Oh, oh!
They called in Dispenser Hammond.
Mhmm-m-m.

[They tear off with ‘Mhmm-m-m’.]

STORYTELLER: [Down where the players are, watching them disappear]

Do you see what has happened in this neighbourhood? Parents
are suffering in their guts for nothing. Oh, George K. Ananse.

[The Two WOMEN rush in again.]

FIRST WOMAN: Oh, how could it happen?

They called in Dispenser Hammond.
SECOND WOMAN: How could this thing happen?
They called in Dispenser Hammond.
TOGETHER: Oh, Dispenser Hammond!
Oh, oh!
They called in Dispenser Hammond
Mhmm-m-m.
* Dispenser: pharmacist, but in its popular use practically meaning Doctor.
“4

ess,. + ahd 59
, 1™ *
ACT FOUR

[They tear off in a different directions

q

STORYTELLER: I can’t laugh enough. Listen, Ananse is lying, he is

really, and so relax.
As for some people! They do not pause to enquire how true
a thing is before they believe it, and so it’s easy to deceive them.
You were here, weren’t you, when Ananse started drilling
his daughter, Anansewa, in pretending dead? Very well. It
turns out that he did his work well.
And so, since Anansegoro doesn’t take long to grow, time
having passed, let me remind you that this is the day set by one
of the four chiefs for his performance of the head-drink
ceremony for Anansewa.

[The WOMEN rush in again.]

FIRST WOMAN: | And so, how could this thing happen?

They called in Dispenser Hammond.
SECOND WOMAN: How could it happen?
They called in Dispenser Hammond.
TOGETHER: Oh, Dispenser Hammond!
Oh, oh!
They called in Dispenser Hammond,
Mhmm-m-m.

[They pass through. STORYTELLER mounts the stage.]

STORYTELLER: Youd better stop; better stop because they say the
minute wailing sounds in Mr Ananse’s ear, he wants to kill
himself.

[Addressing the audience:}

Last night, everybody was asleep by the time the Methodist

Church clock struck twelve o'clock.

[PROPERTY MAN strikes this hour while STORYTELLER counts,

leaping numbers to feach twelve o'clock quickly.]

60
 ACT FOUR

The town deserted, with nobody coming or going, suddenly

there was Mr George K. Ananse’s voice, screaming.
VOICE OF ANANSE: Come, somebody! Come to my aid! Ah, my
one and only possession! I’m about to see disaster!
STORYTELLER: You hear that?
VOICE OF ANANSE: Alas! Anansewa! She has fainted! Something
has descended on her! Where is everybody? Alas! Help! Help!
People! People!
STORYTELLER: By the time people who heard this call arrived on
the scene, there was Anansewa, lying as though she were dead.
And then, you should have seen Ananse here.
VOICE OF ANANSE: Where are the doctors? Oh! Dispenser Ham-
mond! Call in Dispenser Hammond! Ah! Ah! Ah!
STORYTELLER: Thereupon, one tears off this way, another that
way. And as for Mr Ananse, he was by this time rolling on the
ground, and striking his head violently against the wall, pum,
pum, pum.
[PROPERTY MAN produces the ‘pum, pum’ sound to help stoRY-
TELLER.]

Believe me, had there not been tough-muscled men present to

restrain him, he would have done violence to himself and died
instead.
Friends, Anansegoro doesn’t take long to grow! There they
were, trying, when suddenly Ananse springs up to stand at the
door of the room in which his daughter lies, and invoking an
oath, forbids anyone to touch his daughter. He declares, that
having been afflicted by a catastrophe of this dimension, he will
do violence to himself should anyone come close to him.
So that’s how it has happened, that those who choose to
believe it, believe that Anansewa is dead.
But, as for a funeral of this nature, a funeral for the Dead-
and-Alive we will watch how it will be conducted this day.

[He takes castanets out of his pocket and accompanies himself in a

song.]
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,

61
 Anansewa e,
You're due for the grave.
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
How d’you get there? —)
Is she dead?
Is she dead?
Is she dead?

ek [Enter curist1E from outside. She is in mourning, and is carrying

a clan staff.* She answers as though the stORYTELLER were asking
her the question.]

CHRISTIE: Oh, yes, sir. It is indeed hard to believe it.

STORYTELLER: [Pretending commiseration] Sorry. Isn’t it a bitter
story? How is a guest like you going to handle your responsi-
bility for giving the news?
curistiz: Ah, sir. [She acts as though she is on the point of breaking
into tears, and starts singing:]
| How do I explain today?
a s How do I explain today?
i How do I?.
.
Alas! None of his clan.
How do I explain today?
How do I?
Alas! None of his clan.
How do I explain today?
How do I?
[Speaking:] I'm completely unable to suppress my sorrow, sir.
And there’s Pa Ananse, fainting at the mere sound of wailing.
Alas! None of his clan.
How do I explain today?
How do I?
* clan staff: a staff mounted by the identifying totemic symbol of a clan: in —
this case itis the staff of the Nsona clan whose totemic symbol is the crow.

62 ‘ am. ie taneie,
 hes ACT FOUR _
oe ys
[She passes through, singing.]
_ [Playing his castanets sTORY TELLER makes his statement in speech
_ and song, the pLayERs helping him in the song parts. He roams,
proclaiming to the public:]

STORYTELLER: Oh, I’ve thought, but I don’t understand.

Do you understand?
Let’s think it over and see.
Let’s think it over and see
If we by any chance
Will be able to understand
The plan in Ananse’s head,
Which has pressed his daughter so
To pretend to be dead
Because of the knotty fix
Entangling her father
And giving him a headache.
[Singing:] Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Anansewa e,
You're due for the grave.
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
How do you get there?
[Speaking:] Let me say what I think, then.
No-sale-no-payment
Obliges no one.
The point about head-drink is
That it’s paid for the living.
Therefore, Chief-of-Sapaase e!
Don’t bother to come,
Oh, don’t bother to come,
Because the object of your interest
Did not survive for you,
Did not survive for you.
[Singing:] Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,

63
~ACF FOUR

Anansewa,
You're due for the grave.
Oh, Dead-and-Alive
How d’you get there?
[Speaking:] Oh-h-h-h, Chief-of-the-Mines,
The point about head-drink is
That it’s paid for the living. q
And there is Chief, not knowing
That the case seems to be—
[Singing:] Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Anansewa,
You're due for the grave.
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
How d’you get there?
[Speaking:] Oh-h-h-h, Togbe Klu!
Don’t bother to come,
Oh, don’t bother to come,
Because the object of your interest
Did not survive for you.
And Chief, he happens to be
Far, far, far away,
He doesn’t know it’s a case of—
[Singing:] Oh, Dead-and-Alive
Oh, Dead-and-Alive
Anansewa,
You're due for the grave.
Oh, Dead-and-Alive
How d’you get there?
[Speaking:] Oh, Chief-Who-Is-Chief,
Oh, she didn’t survive.
As for you, Chief, 5
You were most highly expected,
And yet, the turn of events

64
 ACT FOUR

Has made it essential

_ That you also should be treated
A Along with the rest on the basis
Of no-sale-no-payment.
As for you, Chief, were I to get you
In private somewhere
I would give you the hint that it’s—
[Singing:] Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
Anansewa,
You're due for the grave.
Oh, Dead-and-Alive,
How d’you get there?
Is she dead?
Is she dead?
Is she dead?

[STORYTELLER has come down among the audience, with whom he

continues to think the matter over.]

STORYTELLER: What do you think? All of us have seen this knot

that has been tied. How do you suppose Mr Ananse will untie
it? As far as the four chiefs’ problem is concerned, since nobody
matries a corpse that part of the knot can be considered untied.
Moreover, there isn’t any law to oblige Ananse to return to
them any of the gifts he has received from their hands so far
and used to improve his circumstances.
But I ask you, this Dead-and-Alive with whom he is closeted
in there, and whom it is impossible to take to the grave; how
_ can he so hide her that nothing of his deceit shall be exposed?
What would you do, if you were Ananse?
Should he cause her to vanish?
To Ouagadougou?
To Mexico?
To Kenya?
Or India?

65.
~ ACT FOUR

Or is it that
Anansewa herself
Will now turn to

[Singing:] |Wind, wind, wind? [Echo from Anansewa’s song.]

[Laughing, STORYTELLER sits down with the audience. The

PLAYERS start the song ‘I’m Down in a Pit’ again, singing it
solemnly. PROPERTY MAN walks sneakingly in to set two web
screens.|

STORYTELLER: [Rising and making his way to join the PLAYERS]

That’s the nature of Anansegoro. Anansegoro is such that as
soon as you release your mind to it it takes you, penetrating
where it might not have been possible for you to go. Do you
notice that since we started thinking, we also have arrived right
where the eye of the story is?

[The PLAYERS increase the volume of their singing. ANANSE and

CHRISTIE sneak in carrying a bed which they set behind the web —
screens. They communicate in whispers, their movements are speedy.
As soon as the bed is in place, PROPERTY MAN, in mourning, enters
carrying a chair, and is directed by ANANSE to sit at the entrance.
CHRISTIE fetches the clan staff which ANANSE gives to PROPERTY
MAN to hold. Producing a sheet ofpaper and a pencil from her clothes,
CHRISTIE reads it and speaks like one suppressing tears.
CHRISTIE: I have called Akate and informed Togbe Klu, and they
are on their way.
ANANSE: Let your voice quiver a little more so that you'll be in
practice.
CHRISTIE: I have called Sapaase Palace and informed them. They
say they are on their way.
I have called the Mines and informed them. They may even
have arrived already. [Her voice is now quivering as much as pos-
sible.] Ihave called Chief-Who-Is-Chief and informed him. [She
sobs.] Hmmm.

[The volume of the singing increases and one of the WOMEN recites
‘How could it happen’ intermittently in a subdued voice. With great

66
 ACT FOUR

stealth ANANSE walks round the bed. The song ceases. He takes a
large watch out of his pocket and reads it.]

ANANSE: The time is up. My soul, Kweku, support me, for I’m
weary. Life is really a struggle. Should this moment in which
I’m trapped by any chance miscarry, I’m finished. And if care
is not taken, I will, moreover, strike the fortune from my
daughter’s lips and spill it completely. Man is pathetic.
As I stand here, the fear attacking me is overwhelming; still I
will take it this way, that I have seized hold of the tail of a wild
beast who will bite me if I let go. So I’m holding on to it. What
else can I do?
I know that not all my ways can be considered straight. But,
before God, I’m not motivated by bad thoughts at this moment.
Ihave a deep fatherly concern for this only child of mine. If the
world were not what it is, I would not gamble with such a
priceless possession. So what I plead is this: may grace be
granted so that from among the four chiefs who desire to
marry my child, the one will reveal himself who will love her
and take good care of her when I give her to him,

[He walks slowly to call ANANSEWA from the next room. He is

indeed weary.|

Anansewa—a! Come, the time is up.

[The PLAYERS continue singing ‘I'm Down in a Pit’ solemnly.

ANANSEWA runs in, and throws herself on the bed. ANANSE and
CHRISTIE speedily arrange her. A voice outside calls out ‘Ago!’
for permission to enter. CHRISTIE dashes out. ANANSE rushes out-
side the web screens on tiptoe, and sits on the floor as miserably as
possible. PROPERTY MAN organises himself. The song ceases as
CHRISTIE leads in the MINES MESSENGERS. They are two men.]

CHRISTIE: [As she enters] Is the elder of the family there? Here are
messengers from the Mines.

[ANANSE groans, and lurches sideivays as though he is fainting.

CHRISTIE dashes across to support him.|
‘ 67
oe it
Bi
__ ACT FOUR Be x62) Dab.

Pa George! Suppress the agony a little. I have explained wh:

agonising scenes you cannot face. It’s because there are custom-
ary routines to follow that they feel obliged to come. Respect- _
able messengers, you have permission.

[She gestures in the direction of the bed, and leads them round it.]

FIRST MESSENGER: Look, she seems as though she is merely asleep. —

CHRISTIE: You see! Anansewa is deceiving us so much. As you
look at her, it seems as though she is about to rise any minute. —
And yet, we know that it’s we who are vainly indulging in —
sweet anticipation,

[ANANSE groans.|

Please, Pa George, suppress it a little.

[She indicates where the MESSENGERS should stand. PROPERTY

MAN moves over to stand by her.}

FIRST MESSENGER: Respected lady, and you, elder of the family, —

whom we mect here. We do not like the reason for our coming
here, but we are obliged to come. We were in no way expecting
that on this day we would come on such a journey. Our royal
one, the wealthy paramount Chief of the Mines whose praise-
name is ‘You Are Coming Again, Aren’t You’, has had many
discussions with his councillors about this marriage he was
going to contract. He insisted—against their advice—that ifa
lady of this quality came into his hands she would give enligh-
tened training to the many children to whom his wives have
given birth.

[ANANSE groans.]

It has not been our royal one’s fortune to hear the news he was _
expecting. He who is Owner has snatched his property from
our royal one’s hands,

[ANANSE groans hard.]

68
 _ ACT FOUR

We will be brief, sir, Our royal one has this to say: that
because this lady had not yet become his wife, he cannot give
her burial; but that which custom does permit, he is not reluc-
tant to fulfil.

[PROPERTY MAN carries in the required props. At the mention of

each item he hands it over.|

He sends this bolt of silk; this kente from Bonwire; this dumas
cotton cloth. Use them for dressing his lady’s bed for her.
He sends this drink, and this bag of money to help her father
pay for the funeral in farewell to his lady.

[The other messenger, receiving the articles one by one from PROP=
ERTY MAN, hands them over to CHRISTIE. Having received them
all she shows them to ANANSE, then she enters the screened-off area,
places the cloths on the bed, and the drink beside it. Returning, she
confers in whispers with ANANSR, her mouth close to his ear.]

CHRISTIB: Respected messengers, Pa Ananse says he has heard the

message you bring.

[Anansz keels over. curtst1x quickly holds him up, patting him
to comfort him. She breaks into song, and gesturing the MESSENGERS
to follow her, leads them out.]

CHRISTIE: Oh really clueless one

Wailing though I lack skill
Oh really clueless one.
ANANSE: [Rising] Ah! So had my daughter gone into this marriage,
this chief’s councillors would not have liked it; and she would
have gone there to get hated. Very well, I have untied that part
of the knot.

[He and PROPERTY MAN sneak in to see ifall is well with the bed.
They hear curtst1x's voice calling ‘Agoo! Agoo!’ urgently and
dash back to their positions. curtstiR leads in SAPAASE
MESSENGERS, two women and a man.|

69
ACT FOUR

CHRISTIE: [To PROPERTY MAN] Is the elder ofthe family there?

Here come messengers from Sapaase Palace.

[ANANSE groans.|

Pa George! [She goes over to support him.] My mothers, this is

what I told you about. He is taking it extremely hard.
MALE MESSENGER: Pa Ananse, condolences. We will make it brief.
What has to be done must be done, and that is why we came.
We are not here to do any agonising things to bruise your
pain.
FIRST FEMALE MESSENGER: Oh, where is my lady? Listen, I'll
carry you on my back. Place my lady on my back so that I can
take her to my chief. Our royal one, you have our sympathy.
Pa George, condolences; d’you hear?

[ANANSE groans.|

CHRISTIE: Mama, mama, mama. Stop it, stop it, stop it.

[She starts her song “Oh Really Clueless One’, gestures in the
direction ofthe bed and leads the MESSENGERS fo walk round it.]

SECOND FEMALE MESSENGER: Isn’t this as though my lady were

merely asleep? Ah, Pa Ananse, my sympathy. Our royal one,
sympathy is yours also. My lady, you are lovely. I was cam-
paigning for you so that I could get a beautiful baby from your
womb to carry on my back, and display my pride for the pur-
pose of putting to shame a certain bitchy, ugly, somebody who
is there in Sapaase Palace.
ANANSE: Stop it. Stop it.
MALE MESSENGER: Very well, sir.
FIRST FEMALE MESSENGER: Alas! My lady, I was anxious for you
to come into residence in the top storey of the palace, and then,
we would have sent packing downstairs—straight!—that shrew
of a woman at large there, who is only waiting to claw out our
eyes and scare us away.

ANANSE & groans.

 ACT FOUR

_ MALE MESSENGER: Enough, mother. [CHRISTIE points out where

they should stand.| Well, elders of the house whom we meet here,
we will be brief. Who likes bitterness? Were we not obliged to
come, this journey would have been too bitter and too hard to
face. Having come, we are well aware that it is the father who
is most afflicted; therefore if you ask us not to do agonising —
things in his presence, we agree with you.
Had our royal one acquired this lady, a certain nasty beast,
who is at large in his home, would have fled on her own accord,
and peace would have come to the home.
Truly, we are hurt, because we were paying conscientious
attention, as you know. It was as though we were regularly
bringing our eggs into storage here, accumulating them for
collection later. And the time was just rounding the corner too;
but The Implacable One said no. Our eggs have hatched
nothingness, leaving us with empty hands.

[ANANSE groans.|

I’ve cut it short, sir. When our royal one discussed the news
with his council, some were of the opinion that since this is a
case of no-sale-no-payment other families would simply con-
sider the matter concluded. But our particular family is en-
dowed with such compassion that we ourselves would not
consider it nice if we did nothing for you. Therefore, what our
royal one has to say is this: he has no right to give burial to this
child because the head-drink did not come in time to make it a
conclusive marriage. You yourselves are well aware that had
our royal one not been thoroughly knowledgeable about cus-
tomary procedure, he would not be occupying his ancient stool.
He says that he is not reluctant at all to perform whatever
custom he has the right to perform in farewell to the woman he
loves.

[As he names the things they have brought, one woman receives them
item by item from PROPERTY MAN and passes them on to
CHRISTIE.]

Here are his silk, his velvet, his white kente cloth, his white
o
ACT FOUR

striped cloth; place them on his beloved’s bed for her to take to —
the grave. Here is his cash donation of twenty guineas also;
spend it on drinks for the funeral. That’s the mission that
brought us here.

[CHRISTIE shows ANANSE these things and places them on the bed.
Returning, she consults him in whispers before she speaks.|

CHRISTIE: He says he has received your message in full.

[After a brief hesitation she leads the MESSENGERS out, sorrowfully

singing her song again.]

ANANSE: Such verbal agility and trouble-ridden talk.

The world is dark
Is dark
The world is really dark.
[He rises.] Had you people got hold of my child, you would
have involved her, blameless as she is, in your contention in
Sapaase Palace and driven that wild woman of whom you speak
to kill her and bereave me for nothing.
It is the Lord I thank, for Iwould have pushed my child into
disaster. All right, I have untied that part of the knot also.

[He and PROPERTY MAN enter the screened area. Almost

immediately they hear the clanging of a gong, followed by singing.
They fly back to their positions. With ‘Agoo! Agoo!’ CHRISTIE
leads in AKATE MESSENGERS, two men.]

AKATE MESSENGERS: Zoxome mele du yom lo!

Togbi Klu be, ‘Zixome mele du yom’
Kaka made kasia, Ku do aba di
na Anansewa!
Amega ’megawo va so di koto,
ne woa tsoe adi.
Ao! Anansewa tso da yibo tso
yi Avli mee!
CHRISTIE: [She waitsforthe song to end.| Elder of the family, you _
are

72 ? ‘ an
 ACT FOUR

have heard with your own ears. Togbe Klu’s messengers have
arrived,

[She indicates a place outside the screens where they move to view
ANANSEWA through the web. They shake their heads in sorrow and
sing again movingly. ANANSE groans.|

CHRISTIE: George, please control yourself so that they can deliver

their news.
FIRST MESSENGER: Togbe Ananse and his elders whom we meet
here, we come as direct brothers of Togbe Klu IV. In all Akate
we are the ones who know what preparations our brother and
our chief has endeavoured to make as he awaits Togbe Ananse’s
child. Our brother was most appreciative of this lady’s training
in secretarial work. He was looking forward to having a real
helper at last to assist him in building up a substantial business,
A helper who would not ruin him as some of his own relatives,
I regret to say, have done time and time again to his distress.
Look, he is ready to order giant trucks for bringing cattle from
Mali. That aside, he has ordered a trawler, for fishing. And the
documents for all these were to have been entrusted to his own
wife’s administration.

[ANANSE groans.]

Had this misfortune occurred in the days when Togbe’s spirit

would quicken at the recital of his praise-name, ‘Prickly-Pear’,
Akate town would be in a turmoil that would overflow to this
place also. This funeral house wouldn’t be so silent.
But these days, he has become a most zealous adherent of a
Spiritualist Church, and so when something happens which he
cannot fattom he leaves it in God’s hands no matter how much
he is pained. When he heard the news he wept so much we also
wept. But he has left it in God’s hands in the same way. He was
not even in favour of our coming here. What was the use, he
said. But we said, ‘No’. We have not yet had the vision he has
had, which leads him to that point of view. Even if we came to
_ do nothing, we would show our faces here. Togbe Ananse,
condolences. g

73
Bs '
ACT FOUR

[ANANSE bows his head; CHRISTIB moves over to consult him

whispers.|

CHRISTIB: He says I should ask you if that is all you have to say.
FIRST MESSENGER: That is all. |
CHRISTIE: He says he thanks you for your affection. N
MESSENGERS: [Together] Boba no lo
Ha we ga kpe lo

[They sing their song to the gong as they depart, led by CHRISTIE.
ANANSE sits staring into the distance; he shakes his head regretfully.}

anansgz: Ah! Togbe Klu. You whom I even forgot sometimes to

count among those in the race, lo and behold, it is you who
turns out to be the one with such good intentions. You should —
have given me that understanding, for I had no idea it was your
desire to live so well with my child. [He thinks.]
Have I allowed your messengers to depart? What if Chief-
Who-Is-Chief doesn’t come? And if he does, supposing he
comes in the manner in which the Mines people and Sapaase
people came? What would I do then? If in desperation and
torment, I push my child into his hands in that event, I would
be pushing her into catastrophe. Oh, has trouble so turned into
a fallen tree across my road? Is there no rest at all in this life?
Hmm, my mind is exhausted.

[He moves beside ANANSEWA. CHRISTI2 shouts “Ago!”

ANANSE darts into hiding behind the web screens. PROPERTY MAN
rearranges himself. CHRISTIE leads in MESSENGERS OF CHIEF-
WHO-IS-CHIEF.]

CHRISTIE: Pa George? [She doesn’t see him.] Has Pa George gone?

[She sees him.] Pa George. [Her voice quivers.] Your loving ones
want you. Indeed, today, I really can’t escape dealing with an
issue too weighty for my competence.

[ANANSE leaves the web, and walks out to slump down in his place.]

My honourable ones, see how miserably he sits. It’s he, the s

74
 ACT FOUR

father; we are finding it more unbearable to look at him. Had

____ there not been tough-muscled men around to help, we would
have buried him instead by now; you would not have met him
here alive. A little more delay and you would not have been
here in time to view the face of this beloved one of yours either.
_ ANANSE: Honourable messengers of the great one, have you
arrived? I am worth nothing in your sight indeed. I promised
you that I would take good care of that precious possession of
yours entrusted to me. But I failed to prime my gun and stand
firm to defend her.
What shall I say to you? Shall I merely say ‘Sorry’ to you?

[The MessencErs whip out their handkerchiefs in unison, and dab

their eyes.]

CHRISTIE: Pa George, don’t. My honourable ones, it was for you

we were waiting. Because of what the father is doing, we were
going to bury the child out of his sight, according to his
instructions. Come, then, and view what is yours.

[She [Link] round the bed, wailing in song.]

Wailing for my child,

Anansewa, don’t blame me.
Wailing for my child,
Anansewa, don’t blame me.
Wailing,
One, alone, Anansewa.
Don’t blame me,
Wailing,
Without skill but wailing,
Anansewa.

[At the end of the song she points out where the MESSENGERS
should stand.]

FIRST MESSENGER: Lady, and elders whom we meet here, forgive

___us for delaying a little, but the orders which our chief who is so
ftey

75
ACT FOUR

unexpectedly afflicted gave us, enjoined that we should not —

come on this mission inadequately prepared. Therefore, we —
were making every effort to assemble everything before setting
out. The fires are so totally out, where we come from.
All the way here, we've been painfully regretful. We have
this much to say, that if we had been aware that Chief-Who-
Is-Chief loved the lady Anansewa with a love so deep we would
have seen to settling her by his side without any delay. Had she
come to him this might probably not have happened. The time
was just rounding the corner too. He has called a meeting of
very important people at the palace a week from this very
day to fix the day of the wedding and plan all the arrangements
before sending word to the lady’s father.
What more shall I say to make everyone understand the
pathetic plight of our royal one, Chief-Who-Is-Chief?

[ananss keels over and springs up in such agony that PROPERTY

MAN goes to his aid.]

CHRISTIB: Sirs, that’s what I told you.

FIRST MESSENGER: I will stop there and deliver the message we
bring. There is a man who is hailed by the praise-name Fire-
Extinguisher. He is Chief-Who-Is-Chief and he has sent us to
the respected Mr George K. Ananse.
He says that he makes no error in calling this man his father-
in-law, because had Ungenerous Death not snatched this child
from his hands, it would be in order so to address him.
This Chief-Who-Is-Chief, who was eager to blend his blood
with yours and become a member of your family, wishes me to
inform you about his painful grief, and add that he accepts total
responsibility for everything concerning the woman who had
but one more step to take to enter his home.
Therefore, from his hands to yours here are all requirements
for her funeral.

[PROPERTY MAN brings in the things which one of the women

receives from him item by item and hands over to CHRISTIE.]

Here is the ring a husband places on a wife’s finger. Here is a

76
 } ACT FOUR
bag of money, spend it on the funeral. Here are cloths which
any woman who is confidently feminine would select with a
careful eye; place them on his beloved one’s bed; dumas, white
_ kente, silk kente, velvet, brocade.
The drinks he sends to help his father-in-law with the funeral
are in such quantities that we couldn’t bring them in here. We
needn't even pay attention to that because this . . . [He himself
receives a bottle from PROPERTY MAN]... this bottle of Schnapps
in my hand is what it is absolutely mandatory for me to place
in your hands. His wishes are that this must be the drink with
which the farewell libation is poured when his beloved one is
being placed in the coffin.

ANANSE & groans.

Finally, it is his desire to do for Anansewa what a husband

does for a wife. And so he sends his coffin, one made of glass.
Place his wife in it for him. [A momentary hush.] Lady, bring
your elders along, so that I can show you the coffin.

[The MESSENGERS lead CHRISTIE and PROPERTY MAN fo the

entrance from where the viewing takes place. Overcome by grief, they
whip out their handkerchiefs at the same time and dab their eyes.
ANANSE springs up, moves over to take a look for himself and
wails.]

ANANSE: Is this my adversity? What have I done that I’m stripped _

to such nakedness? My child, such was your fortune, and you
are so silent? Ah, life does wield a whip that the human being
cannot withstand.

[He falls back into somebody's arms.]

Ah, sirs, this place has become awesome.

[It is as though he is going into a trance.]

Give me drink to pour libation myself.

Give me the drink my child’s lover has sent.
 Ay

[curist1e hands over the drink to PROPERTY

MAN who passes
it on to ANANSE. He is given a glass into whichhepours a portion.
He moves into the screened-off area, leans against the web and starts
the libation.]
Dependable God,
I’m calling on you,
Earth Efuwa;
Souls who have preceded us,
Come, all of you,
Here is your drink.
What we receive
We share with you.
Ifyou have gone, it does not mean
You have neglected us.
You are with us
In difficulty and in joy.
I am announcing to you
That your grandchild is on her way.
Condolences to you,
Condolences to us.
he
We know you are there
To give her a welcome embrace.
We know it is to her family she comes,
And that being so,
We should be comforted.
But there is more to it than that,
Ancestors, there is more to it than that.

[He goes into a trance.|

You who are lying there!
Anansewa!
I'm calling you!
Listen with the ancestors;
Chief-Who-Is-Chief
The-man-fit-for-a-husband
Has sent his money

78
 res ACT FOUR
[curistre places iton the bed.]

Has sent his cloths

[curistrE places them on the bed.

Has sent his drink

Which I hold in my hand;
A person who is so wise,
A person who so understands what love is
That though the feast has not yet been spread
For him to feed,
He has sent his thanks;

See, there stands his coffin

Giving proof of his love,
Giving proof
That for Anansewa’s sake
He is doing far more than
What custom prescribes for him;
Anansewa had yet to enter this man’s home
Yet, see how he has done
What a real husband does, in full.

[He goes into an even deeper trance.

Ancestors, I am pleading with you,

If it is your desire
As it is ours
That Chief-Who-Is-Chief
Should marry Anansewa,
See to it that she returns to life!
Wake her!
See to it that Anansewa awakes
And returns to become a bride!

[He falls into the arms ofPROPERTY MAN as though he is overcome

by contact with the spirits. He sings like a man in a trance.]

79
en
ACT FOUR

Wake, oh wake
Oh wake, oh wake.
Kweku’s child, Anansewa,
Wake, oh wake!
Love is calling you, return, \
Wake, oh wake! 4
Chief-Who-Is-Chief loves you true
Wake, oh wake!

[He moves swiftly to aNaNsEWaA's side and walks round the bed —
staring at her. There is a hush.]

ANANSE: [Suddenly] Oh, she is waking. Are there such wonders in —

the world? My child is waking. :

[ANANSBWA Stirs.]

Does love have such power? Christie, open the doors and let _
everybody in to see the power of amazing love.

[cuRisT1E and PROPERTY MAN mime opening up the house, and —

beckon people in. The PLAYERS surge all over the place.|

There is my child, awakened for me by love. How strong —

love is. Love has awakened my child.
She is rising!
She is rising!
She has risen, complete.

[ANANSEWA springs out ofthe bed, causing MESSENGERS and all —

the others to scatter and hover round in bewilderment. But ANANSE,
CHRISTIB and PROPERTY MAN huddle around ANANSEWA
hugging one another, and shaking hands.]

ANANSEWA: [Just like one suddenly woken from a deep sleep] Father! —
Where is father? Father. j
ANANSB: My lovely child. My one and only daughter. Here 1am._

80
 ACT FOUR

ee

ae ANANSEWwaA: Father, I could hear Chief-Who-Is-Chief calling me.

ANANSE: He was indeed calling you. His love has won a victory for
us all. [The guests express much amazement.] Honourable
messengers, I’m dumbfounded. Here, alive, is your precious
possession. It is by the grace of the God who never gives us up.
I believe that there is nothing better for you to do now than to
return to break the news of this miracle to my loving son-in-
law, so that his bitterness shall turn to sweetness. Thank you for
coming on such a consoling journey.
Friends who brought your compassion in to cover my
nakedness in my grief, I thank you. By the day of my birth, if
our spirits which fled from us return to us, and I don’t invite
you all to meet here for a great celebration, may no parent call
me George Kweku Ananse.
Christie!
CHRISTIE: Georgie!
ANANSE: Rare helper! Supporter, your thanks await you.

[He hugs CHRISTIE and ANANSEWA.]

STORYTELLER: [Bursting into laughter and crying out] That’s Kwek

all right! ;
ANANSE: [Starting] Goodness! Look, sir, leave the praise-singing
alone till some other time, and instead, manage the guests”
departure for me, to end this whole event right now.
STORYTELLER: [Still laughing] I understand you too well. In that
case, friends, we will end this Anansegoro right here. Whether
you found it interesting or not, do take parts of it away, leaving
parts of it with me. We are shaking hands for departure.

[The PLAYERS sing joyfully, shaking hands with ANANSBWA,

CHRISTIE and PROPERTY MAN.|]

Oh, oh,
Is love’s power so strong?
Is love’s power so strong?

81
ACT FOUR

So strong?
Is love’s power so strong?
Let’s relate in love
That we may thrive—
True love is rare.
Let’s relate in love
That we may thrive—
True giver is rare.
Let’s relate in love
That we may thrive- -
True helper is rare.
Let’s relate in love
That we may thrive—
Thank you, chief so rare.
Let’s relate in love
That we may thrive—
Thank you, husband rare.
Let’s relate in love
That we may thrive.

CURTAIN

82
 . Sa
_ Firebrands
, Sahle Sellassie

A tale of two brothers in the Ethiopia of the early 1970s.

Bezuneh, the elder, is a gentle giant of a man, honest and
hard-working in a corrupt world. Worku, the younger, is
a hot-headed student, eager to sweep away the system and
set the downtrodden masses free.
As the people’s resentment against their overlords
seethes and festers, Bezuneh reaches his own boiling point
when he is unjustly sacked. Imprisoned for his murderous
assault upon his boss, he is freed after the revolution has
overthrown the ruling class. But how far has the system
_ really changed?
Sahle Sellassie’s third novel is a forceful and realistic
story set against the background of the dramatic events of
1974.

ISBN 0 582 64243 4

Muriel at Metropolitan
Miriam Tlali

Muriel is a Black South African who gets a job at Metro-

politan Radio, a furniture store in the heart of Johan-
nesburg. Unwillingly she finds herself taking partin the
exploitation of her own people, the Black customers who
are tempted by ‘buy now pay later’ bargains and then
threatened when they fall behind.
Muriel’s personal narrative of day to day life in the
store reveals her growing resentment of the petty snubs
and indignities unthinkingly dealt out by the white staff.
Gradually we come to recognise that the store is a virtual
microcosm of South African society under apartheid.
Miriam Tlali’s novel, based on her own experiences, ~
describes simply and without sensationalism the plight of
the South African Black struggling to find and keep a
place in a society where white is always right.

ISBN 0 582 64232 9

F Festus lyayi

The worst thing that can happen to a man is to wake up

}

each morning not only hungry but with no means of

satisfying his hunger or that of his wife. Idemudia’s
unremitting struggle for survival in a city offering cruel
contrasts between direst poverty and ostentatious wealth
almost destroys him, his health and his marriage. The
bond between him and his wife Adisa is stretched,
strained, battered and betrayed, yet from their sufferings
miraculously emerge a deeper insight and a closer unity.
This is Festus Lyayi’s first novel, written from his own
observations of conditions existing in his native Nigeria.

ISBN 0 582 64247 7

Bukom
Bill Marshall

Everyone in Ataa Kojo’s family had a different dream. The

old man would die happy if only he had a whiteman’s
toilet installed in his house. His married daughter Karley
wanted her husband to be faithful to her, while her young ~
sister Fofo longed for a lover. Of the three sons, Martey
the eldest simply wanted more money, Allotey was eager
for independence, and the youngest, Chico, desperately
needed a kente cloth to wear at the school Speech Day.
How they all set about achieving these ambitions makes
a lively, lighthearted story lavishly endowed with colourful
Ghanaian atmosphere. Bill Marshall knows Accra’s
Bukom district well and describes it with humour and
affection.

ISBN 0 582 64223 x

 DRUMBEAT
DRAMA

ANANSEWA: As for some old chief with fifty wives, that

won't do at all.
ANANSE (with cunning): Supposing it isn’t some old
chief but the finely built, glowing black, large-eyed,
handsome as anything, courageous and famous
Chief-Who-ls-Chief?

Ananse the cunning spider man is the hero of count-

less Ghanaian legends. But this Ananse gets
entangled in his own web of deceit when his scheme
Ye
sie
to get rich quick backfires, and disaster stares him in
the face. The only way out is for his daughterto die...

e
Efua T. Sutherland has donea great deal to encourage
the theatre in Ghana. She began the Ghana Experi-
mental Theatre and the Ghana Drama Studio, and
has written many plays for adults and children, in-
cluding Edufa, also published in Drumbeat.

Longman
O 582 64260 4