Why the Apupuo (Fresh-Water Mussel), Which Made Her Rivers Flow, Itself Lies on the River Bank
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
THEY say that Okawa, Opitire, ’Bonko, the Shrimp, and all the water creatures (were living together) and a very dry season came and all the rivers dried up, causing these creatures much misery. They lay on the sand (in the river bed). At length they said, “As for this misfortune which we have seen, let us go there to Nyankonpon, the Sky-god, and let us cry to tell him he may bring us rain.” All the creatures set off. And Okawa lifted up her voice (and sang):
“Is it not I, Oka’ Abena, now moving here, now moving there?
I jump and stand on my tiptoes in order to call You.
I pick off the aburobia beads on my ankles.
Aberefi Sempa, she is my wife, Abuya.”
But the rain did not fall, And Opitire, too, came and sang:
“Is it not I, Opitire Abena, now moving here, now moving there?
I jump and stand on my tiptoes in order to call You.
I pick off the aburobia beads on my ankles.
Aberefi Sempa, she is my wife, Abuya.”
But the rain did not fall. And ’Bonko, too, came and sang:
“Is it not I, ’Bonko Abena, now moving here, now moving there?
I jump and stand on my tiptoes in order to call You.
I pick off the aburobia beads on my ankles.
Aberefi Sempa, she is my wife, Abuya.”
But the rain did not fall. All the creatures came and cried, and there remained only Apupuo (the Fresh-water mussel). She said, “Permit me to cry for a little.” They said, “Get out, our crying has not done any good, and what do you expect to achieve by yours?” She said, “Permit me to weep.” But they beat her, saying they had already told her she might not weep. But the Fresh-water mussel said, I shall weep.” So they said, “Weep away.” And she lifted up (the song):
“Is it not I, Apupuo Abena, now moving here, now moving there?
I jump and stand on my tiptoes in order to call You.
I pick off the aburobia beads on my ankles.
Aberefi Sempa, she is my wife, Abuya.”
And the Sky-god beat his thunder, kukuru! All the creatures said, “Go on, go on.” And again she cried, and the Sky-god frowned darkly. And now the creatures raised her on their shoulders, saying, “Go on once more.” And again she lifted up the same (refrain). And now the Sky-god released (the rain), and it pattered down, ta! ta! ta! ta! and all the streams were overflowing. Now this one (now that) got up, and, twom! went the water (as they jumped in). All the creatures went in. Apupuo (Fresh-water mussel), when she would have entered the water, was driven back (by the rest), and she lay on the bank of the stream. That is why we say, “Apupuo, who made her rivers flow, lies on the bank.”
This, my story, which I have related, if it be sweet, (or) if it be not sweet, take some elsewhere, and let some come back to me.
In a Tribe There Is No Person Wholly Devoid of Sense
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
THERE was once a certain woman, and she bore four children. The eldest among them was as big a fool as anything. He didn’t know how to do a single thing, so his brothers and sisters said, “We cannot live with him, so let him get out of the house.” So—excuse my using the word (in the presence of any of you elders)—that fool went and built a settlement for himself and lived in it. At that settlement there was nothing but sand. And he made a swing and amused himself with it. The old woman (i. e. the mother) and her children remained behind. She rose up one day to go to the plantation, and she saw that a child was sitting in a hollow in a tree. She said, “Who is there?” The child did not answer her. The woman went there, and had a good look at the child, took her by the hand, and said, “Let us go home.” And the child rose up, and followed behind her, and came to (their) home. The woman addressed her children, saying, “Look at a beautiful child whom I have got, give me my knife that I may cut off her long hair.” Now the woman was not aware that the child was one of the little folk, and that that was why her hair was unkempt like that. So she received the knife and cut off the hair on her head, and threw it away. When things became visible (i. e. next morning), when they said she should eat, she said she would not eat; and they asked her, saying, “What is the matter?” She replied, “If you don’t want to get into trouble, bring back the hair of my head and stick it on again.” The woman and her children went off and got some sticky latex of the rubber-tree, and put it on the fairy’s head, and they took her hair and stuck it on. The Fairy took her fingers and passed them through her hair, pulled it off, and cast it away. When objects became visible, (it was,) “Bring me the hair of my head.” When things were no longer to be seen, (it was,) “Bring me the hair of my head.” And now they grew lean and became very small (with anxiety). One day, the child who was a fool said he would go and see his mother. When he came, (behold) his mother and brothers and sisters had become thin. He said, “How is it come about that you have become thin like this? ’? The mother was about to tell him the real reason why they had become thin, when her children said, “Don’t tell him, this is the fool, when did he know sense?” The mother said, “I shall speak.” When she told him, he said, “Oh, bring the fairy and let me take her to my village.” ‘The mother and brothers and sisters took the fairy and the hair of her head and set out for the village of the fool. When they reached there, to his village, he ordered the fairy, saying, “Go and sit on my swing and amuse yourself for a little.” She went and sat upon it, and he swung her, and he lifted up this song:
“Mother bore me, a foolish child,
Hurotom.
Father begat me, a foolish child,
Hurotom.
Mother bore me, a simple fool,
Hurotom.
Mother bore me, a simple fool,
Hurotom.
Mother bore me, a foolish child,
Hurotom.
Mother bore a simple fool,
Hurotom.”
The Fairy played until she was tired, then the foolish child said to her, “Let us go and get the hair of your head.” He and the Fairy reached home; she (the Fairy) said, “Bring the hair of my head and replace it and let me go away.” The foolish child also said, “You, too, my sand you have trampled over, you must cover up all the marks before I stick on the hair of your head.” The Fairy went off about the task; no sooner had she covered up one of the marks (made by her feet) than, treading, she made another. Now, try as she would, she could not erase all her tracks. She said, “Father, I do not wish any ‘palaver ’, so I release your mother, and as for myself, give me back to myself, and let me go away.” The child who was a fool said, “Then be off, and I, too, have taken my mother (out of your power). Now the mother came and knelt down, saying, “I thank you, and now (I realize that) there is no such thing as a fool in the tribe.” That is why we say, if you have children, open your eyes wide, and look well after them, for you do not know but that at some future time in the day of trouble, (one of them) will come and look after you.
This, my story, which I have related, if it be sweet, (or) if it be not sweet, take some elsewhere, and let some come back to me.
How It Came About That the Tail of the Oka Fish Is Red, and the Gills of the ’Kobo Fish Are Striped
We do not really mean, we do not really mean, (that what we are going to say is true).
ONCE there lived a certain woman who was a Queen Mother, and she had not a child, and she went to one of the lesser-gods there in order that the god might let her bear a child. And he gave her one, but he informed her, saying, “The child, when you bear it, must not eat any meat save only sheep’s liver, for even its flesh is taboo.” Now, one day, (after the woman had borne the child) the mother went to the plantation, and she gave a sheep’s liver to her maidservant, Kra, that she might cook it and give to her child. Now Kra took it, cooked the food, but went and got some real meat of the sheep, and put some in (along with the liver). The Queen Mother’s child said to her, “Mother said my taboo is real meat, and you have put some in (my food), and if I eat, I shall die.” Kra replied, “Yes, I have put some in, and if you will die, then die.” And the Queen Mother’s child replied, “Must I eat that I may die?” And she went into the room to go and fetch her mother’s red silk cloth to wrap herself in. And the child set out on the path, and Kra followed behind her. Kra feared that if her mistress met her, she would get into trouble. And as they went along, the Queen Mother’s child said, “Kra!” Kra said, “Yes!” She said, “If I give you a message, will you speak it?” (i. e. deliver it). Kra said: I a speak it, I shall speak it, before I die; I shall say it, I shall say it, before I die.
When I went there formerly, a yam stood there.
Now I have come and the wild pig sleeps there.
The wild pig called Asamoa, Kuruti Amoa, it is he who sleeps there.
I have none of Gyanoa’s gold dust, Boafo Denkye, the Elder, to-day my life is ended.
She says, let them kill a sheep and give her to eat, let them kill a fowl and give her to eat.
She says, ‘Husband, good morning.’
He replies, ‘Ya’ku.’
She says, ‘The Executioner says he bids you good morning.’
She says, ‘Yes, Abrawo.’
She says, ‘My sister, where are you going, that I may give you a message (to take for me)?’
She says, ‘I am going to grandfather’s village, Sekyere Gyamase.’
She says, ‘What has come to grandfather’s village, Sekyere Gyamase, that the drums never sleep? Oboama’s father, Agyei Ampon; has father gone to war, or has father gone trading seeing that the long reeds have fallen and mingled with the wild creepers?
‘Two never came back, Ntim Sekyere and Kwakye never came back.’
She says, ‘Oh, Parrot, Boama, you have talked and talked, stop and let me talk a little, for your eyes are floating on water.
Your grandfather, Mpampinam, went fishing, and caught a great big duyker.
Kwao Adu Dakowa, Bantama Mpedu Okyere, Adwoa Kese,
Odum Abena and her fetish (suman) called “you walk in vain”.
Adwoa e, Adwoa e, the River Kobi’s grandchild,
Tontoroni Ya, to whom the world belongs.”
And now the child met her mother. And the mother said, “This, my child, whom I meet here, although I left her behind at home, what (evil) has touched her that she is fleeing, yiridi yiridi?” The Queen Mother bade her slaves who followed behind her to catch her for her. But they could not get her; and on and on she ran, and fell into the river, and Kra (the slave girl) also fell in. When they reached them, the Queen Mother’s child had turned into an Oka’ fish with a red tail; and Kra, too, had turned into the Okobo fish, with lines down her cheeks. The red tail of the Oka’ is the red cloth the Queen Mother’s child had worn, in which she had fallen into the water; and the lines down the gill of the Okobo are the tattoo marks of the slave girl, Kra.
This, my story, which I have related, if it be sweet, (or) if it be not sweet, take some elsewhere, and let some come back to me.