African Tales

African Tales

HISTORY is full of exciting events and made up of unusual, interesting people, who have influenced the lives of others around them in some way - good or bad.
The stories around historical events and the people, who have made these events happen, have come down to us through archaeological reconstructions, written records, books, or sometimes even through folk memory. These stories are as exciting and as unusual as the events and people they tell us about.

Folktales are stories passed on from one person to another by word of mouth. These tales were not written down, but existed only in the memory of mankind. It is only now, as the tradition of oral story-telling is giving way to books and television, that such tales are being collected and written down.

About folktales
A folktale is a story, passed down verbally from generation to generation. Each storyteller told the folktales a little differently, making them more interesting and fascinating as the ages passed. Different folktales bear the characteristics of the culture, folklore and customs of the people from which they originated.

Ananse is a fictitious character from Akan oral literature who has both human and spider qualities. His behaviour is human but he has the form of a spider and lives in a community of animals. In the past and still in rural areas of Ghana today, the tales are told around the fire to entertain and teach the values of the society. Storytelling is an active exchange in which the audience participates with responses and songs.

Many Ghanaians today are born in urban areas and are not likely to hear Ananse stories from their elders. However, Ananse folktales have been recorded and published in books and pamphlets for children and adults. Every Ghanaian child reads about Ananse and may get to act out an Ananse story as a way to learn about Ghana's rich cultural heritage.

Ananse plays various roles in the tales and in the minds of modern Ghanaians. He is considered to be wise and cunning, but the spider trickster also teaches what one should not do when he is motivated by greed and takes inappropriate advantage of others. At the end of such a tale, he is shamed.

We however have compilations of some of the tales told by older generations to present generations and posterity.

Although Innovative Channel’s passion is the youth, this book is recommended to every one looking for a new adventure for the rich Ghanaian Culture.



Why the Sky is so high

LONG AGO, the Sky was quite low. If you stood on a stool and stretched your hands up as high as they would go, you could touch the Sky. At that time, far on the Horizon, where the Sky was always especially low, there was a village. In that village, there was a little mud hut thatched with straw and there was a bent Old Woman.

This bent Old Woman was the oldest woman in that village, possibly the oldest woman in the world. She was so old she no longer remembered any other way of being. She lived all alone in her little mud hut, for she had neither friend nor family left in this world. She had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. So all day long, she would potter round her hut, first cleaning this corner, now dusting that, now scrubbing this bit of floor. The bent Old Woman thought of nothing else any more, except more and more ways of sweeping and scrubbing her little mud hut.

One hot summer, the land was dry with thirst. There was dust everywhere - on the trees, on the roofs of huts and houses, in people's throats and eyes, even in the air. All over the village people were coughing and sneezing and choking with the dust. Even the poor old Sky was not spared - it was so close to the ground that the slightest bit of wind would set it coughing with the dust that rose from the parched land.

The bent Old Woman's hut too was covered with dust. The old woman swept and swept and swept the little hut with her broom. She swept the inside of her hut, she swept the outside of her hut, she swept the front step and she swept the front yard. But the dust rose all around her in great brown clouds - the more she swept and plied her broom, the more the dust that rose from the earth.

The poor Sky began to choke with all the dust that the bent Old Woman was raising with her broom. The dust got into its throat and tickled its nose and made it sneeze - a great big sneeze that shook the world with its thunder. People covered their heads and ran indoors in fright. But the bent Old Woman barely noticed - she kept on sweeping with her broom.

The Sky sneezed again - the dust was becoming unbearable. It got into its eyes and made them water - so that great heavy drops of rain began falling into the dry dust below. The bent Old Woman barely noticed - till finally a big splodge raindrop fell right on to the patch she had just swept.

The bent Old Woman glared at the Sky and scrubbed the splodge raindrop away. But then another rain dropped, till her swept and scrubbed front step was blotchy with raindrops.

This was more than the bent Old Woman could bear. She stood up as straight as she could with her bent old back and shook her fist at the Sky yelling at it to stop raining on her nice clean front step. She cursed the Sky and threatened it, but the poor old Sky couldn't stop raining - its eyes were still so full of dust with all her sweeping. At last, the bent Old Woman was so angry that she picked up her broom and thwacked the Sky with it.

The Sky gave another great sneeze and jumped out of her way. But the bent Old Woman kept thwacking it with her broom, again and again and again.

Finally the Sky could take it no more - the dust, the Old Woman's cursing and especially her broom, thwacking it again and again and again. Sneezing and coughing, thundering and raining, the Sky flew up, up and away - out of reach of the Old Woman's broom and swore never to come down again.

So that is why the Sky is so high. Even on the horizon, where it seems to be touching the earth, it really isn't any more.

Sleeping Beauty
THERE once lived a king and queen who had no children, this which made them very sad. Then one day, to the queen's delight, she found she was going to have a baby. She and the king looked forward with great excitement to the day of the baby's birth.

When the time came, a lovely daughter was born and they arranged a large party for her Christening. As well as lots of other guests, they invited twelve fairies, knowing they would make wishes for their little daughter, the princess. At the Christening party, the guests and the fairies all agreed that the princess was a beautiful baby.

One fairy wished on her the gift of Happiness, another Beauty, others Health, Contentment, Wisdom, Goodness . . . Eleven fairies had made their wishes when suddenly the doors of the castle flew open and in swept a thirteenth fairy. She was furious that she had not been invited to the Christening party and as she looked around a shiver ran down everyone's spine. They could feel she was evil. She waved her wand over the baby's cradle and cast a spell, not a wish.

"On her sixteenth birthday," she hissed, "the princess will prick herself with a spindle.
And she will die." With that a terrible hush fell over the crowd.

The twelfth fairy had still to make her wish and she hesitated. She had been going to wish the gift of joy on the baby but now she wanted to stop the princess dying on her sixteenth birthday. Her magic was not strong enough to Sleeping Beauty break the wicked spell but she tried to weaken the evil. She wished that the princess would fall asleep for a hundred years instead of dying.

Over the years the princess grew into the happiest, kindest and most beautiful child anyone had ever seen. It seemed as though all the wishes of the first eleven fairies had come true. The king and queen decided they could prevent the wicked fairy's spell from working by making sure that the princess never saw a spindle.

So they banned all spinning from the land. All the flax and wool in their country had to be sent elsewhere to be spun. On their daughter's sixteenth birthday they held a party for the princess in their castle. They made sure this would protect her from the danger of finding a spindle on her sixteenth birthday.

People came from far and wide to the grand birthday ball for the princess and a magnificent feast was laid out. After all the guests had eaten and drunk as much as they wanted and danced in the great hall, the princess asked if they could all play hide-and-seek, which was a favourite game from her childhood. It was agreed that the princess should be the first to hide and she quickly sped away.

The princess ran to a far corner of the castle and found herself climbing a spiral staircase in a tower she did not remember ever visiting before. "They will never find me here," she thought as she crept into a little room at the top. 'There to her surprise she found an old woman dressed in black, sitting on a chair spinning.

"What are you doing?" questioned the princess as she saw the spindle twirling, for she had never seen anything like it in her whole life. "Come and see, pretty girl," replied the old lady. The princess watched fascinated as she pulled the strands of wool from the sheep's fleece on the floor and twirling it skillfully with her fingers fed it on to the spindle. "Would you like to try?" she asked cunningly.

With all thoughts of hide-and-seek gone, the princess sat down and took the spindle. In a flash she pricked her thumb and even as she cried out, she fell clown as though dead. The wicked fairy's spell had worked.

So did the twelfth good fairy's wish. The princess did not die, but fell into a deep sleep. The spell worked upon everyone else in the castle too. The king and queen slept in their chairs in the great hall. The guests dropped off to sleep as they went through the castle looking for the princess.

In the kitchen; the cook fell asleep as she was about to box the pot boy's ears and the maid nodded off as she was plucking a chicken. All over the castle a great silence descended.

As the years went by; a thorn hedge grew up around the castle. Passers-by asked what was behind the hedge, but few people remembered the castle where the king and queen had lived with their lovely daughter. Sometimes curious travellers tried to force their way through, but the hedge grew so thickly that they soon gave up.
Many years later, a prince came by.

He asked, like other travellers, what was behind the thorn hedge, which was very tall and thick by now. An old man told him a story he had heard about a castle behind the thorns and the prince became curious. He decided to cut his way through the thorns. This time the hedge seemed to open out before his sword and in a short while the prince was inside the grounds. He ran across the gardens and through an open door into the lovely old castle.

Everywhere he looked - in the great hall, in the kitchens, in the corridors and on the staircases - he saw people asleep. He passed through many rooms until he found himself climbing a winding staircase in an old tower. There in a small room at the top he found himself staring in wonder at the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was so lovely that without thinking he leaned forward and gently kissed her.

As his lips touched her, the princess began to stir and she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a handsome young man. She thought she must be dreaming, but she looked again and saw he was really there. As she gazed at him she fell in love.

They came down the stairs together and found the whole castle coming back to life. In the great hall the king and queen were stretching and yawning, puzzled over how they could have dropped off to sleep during their daughter's party. Their guests too were shaking their heads, rubbing their eyes and wondering why they felt so sleepy. In the kitchen, the cook boxed the ears of the pot boy and the maid continued to pluck the chicken. Outside horses stamped and neighed in their stables, dogs barked in the yards, while in the trees birds that had stayed silent for so long burst into song. The hundred-year spell had been broken.

The princess told her parents how much she loved the handsome young man who had kissed her and they were delighted to find he was a prince from a neighbouring country. The king gave them his blessing and a grand wedding was arranged.

At the wedding party, the princess looked more beautiful than ever and the prince loved her more every moment. The twelve good fairies who had come to her Christening were invited once again and were delighted to see the happiness of the prince and princess. Towards evening the newly married pair rode off together to their new home in the prince's country, where they lived happily ever after.

Beauty and the Beast
Arich merchant who had three sons and three daughters lived in a big house in the city. His Youngest daughter was so beautiful she was called Beauty by all who knew her. She was as sweet and good as she was beautiful. Sadly all of the merchant's ships were lost at sea and he and his family had to move to a small cottage in the country. His sons worked hard on the land and Beauty was happy working in the house, but his two elder daughters complained and grumbled all day long, especially about Beauty.

One day news came that a ship had arrived which would make the merchant wealthy again. The merchant set off to the city and just before he left he said, "Tell me, daughters, what gifts would you like me to bring back for you?"
The two older girls asked for fine clothes and jewels, but Beauty wanted nothing. Realizing this made her sisters look greedy; she thought it best to ask for something. "Bring me a rose, father," she said, "Just a beautiful red rose."

When the merchant reached the city he found disaster had struck once more and the ship's cargo was ruined. He took the road home wondering how to break the news to his children. He was so deep in thought that he lost his way. Worse still, it started raining and he feared he would never reach home alive. Just as he despaired he noticed lights ahead, and riding towards them he saw a fine castle. The gates stood open and flares were alight in the courtyard.


The castle itself seemed to be deserted, but fire was burning in the dining-hall where a table was laid with food. The merchant ate well and still finding no one went upstairs to a bedroom which had been prepared. “It is almost as if I was expected," he thought.
In the morning he found clean clothes had been laid out for him and breakfast was on the table in the dining-hall. After he had eaten he fetched his horse and as he rode away he saw a spray of red roses growing from a rose bush. Remembering Beauty's request and thinking he would be able to bring a present for at least one daughter, he plucked a rose from the bush.

Suddenly a beast-like monster appeared. "Is this how you repay my hospitality?" it roared. "You eat my food, sleep in my guest-room and then insult me by stealing my flowers. You shall die for this."

The merchant pleaded for his life and begged to see his children once more before he died. At last the beast relented. "I will spare your life," it said, "if one of your daughters will come here willingly and die for you. Otherwise you must promise to return within three months and die yourself."

The merchant agreed to return and went on his way. At home his children listened with sorrow to his tales of the lost cargo and his promise to the monster. His two elder daughters turned on Beauty, saying, "Your stupid request for a rose has brought all this trouble on us. It is your fault that father must die." When the three months were up Beauty insisted on going to the castle with her father, pretending only to ride with him for company on the journey. The beast met them and asked Beauty if she had come of her own accord and she told him she had.

"Good," he said. "Now your father can go home and you will stay with me."
"What shall I call you?" she asked bravely.
"You may call me Beast," he replied.

Certainly he was very ugly and it seemed a good name for him. Beauty waved a sad farewell to her father. But she was happy that at least she had saved his life.
As Beauty wandered through the castle she found many lovely rooms and beautiful courtyards with gardens. At last she came to a room which was surely meant just for her.

It had many of her favourite books and objects in it. On the wall hung a beautiful mirror and to her surprise, as she looked into it, she saw her father arriving back at their home and her brothers and sisters greeting him. The picture only lasted a few seconds then faded. "This Beast may be ugly, but he is certainly kind," she thought. "He gives me all the things I like and allows me to know how my family is without me."

That night at supper the Beast joined her at the candle-lit table. He sat and stared at her. At the end of the meal he asked: "Will you marry me?"
Beauty was startled by the question but said as gently as she could, "No, Beast, you are kind but I cannot marry you."

Each day it was the same. Beauty had everything she wanted during the day and each evening the Beast asked her to marry him and she always said no. One night Beauty dreamt that her father lay sick. She asked the Beast if she could go to him but he refused saying that if she left him he would die of loneliness. But when he saw how unhappy Beauty was, he said:
"If you go to your family, will you return within a week?"
"Of course," Beauty replied.

"Very well, just place this ring on your dressing table the night you wish to return and you shall come back here. But do not stay away longer than a week, or I shall die."
The next morning Beauty awoke to find herself in her own home. Her father was indeed sick, but Beauty nursed him lovingly. Beauty's sisters were jealous once more. They thought that if she stayed at home longer than a week the Beast would kill her. So they pretended to love her and told her how much they had missed her. Before Beauty knew what had happened ten days had passed. Then she had a dream that the Beast was laying still as though he was dead by the lake near his castle.

"I must return at once," she cried and she placed her ring on the dressing table.
The next morning she found herself once more in the Beast's castle. All that day she expected to see him, but he never came. "I have killed the Beast," she cried, "I have killed him." Then she remembered that in her dream he had been by the lake and quickly she ran there. He lay still as death, down by the water's edge.

"Oh, Beast!" she wept, "Oh, Beast! I did not mean to stay away so long. Please do not die. Please come back to me. You are so good and kind." She knelt and kissed his ugly head.

Suddenly no Beast was there, but a handsome prince stood before her. "Beauty, my dear one," he said. "I was bewitched by a spell that could only be broken when a beautiful girl loved me and wanted me in spite of my ugliness. When you kissed me just now you broke the enchantment."

Beauty rode with the prince to her father's house and then they all went together to the prince's kingdom. There he and Beauty were married. In time they became king and queen and ruled for many happy years.

Gyenyame – The Wonderful Creature
Ato, a poor old wood carver, was making a puppet from a tree branch. "You shall be my little boy," he said to the puppet "and I shall call you 'Gyenyame'." He worked for hours, carefully carving each detail. When he reached the mouth, the puppet started making faces at Ato. "Stop that, you naughty boy," Ato scolded, "Stop that at once!" "I won't stop!" cried Gyenyame.

"You can talk!" exclaimed Ato.
"Of course I can, silly," said the puppet. "You've given me a mouth to talk with." Gyenyame rose to his feet and danced on the table top. "Look what I can do!" he squealed.

"Gyenyame, this is not the time to dance," Ato explained. "You must get a good night's rest. Tomorrow you will start going to school with the real boys. You will learn many things, including how to behave."

On his way to school the next morning, Gyenyame stopped to see a puppet show. "I
can dance and sing better than those puppets and I don't need strings," boasted Gyenyame. He climbed onto the stage.

"Get off my stage," roared the Puppet Master. Then he noticed how much the crowd liked Gyenyame. He did not say anything but let Gyenyame stay. "Here, you've earned five copper coins," the Puppet Master told Gyenyame.

"Take these coins and go straight home," said the Puppet Master. Gyenyame put the coins into his sack. He did not go very far before he met a lame Fox and a blind Cat. Knowing that Gyenyame had money, they pretended to be his friends. "Come with us. We'll teach you how to turn those copper pieces into gold," coaxed the sneaky Cat.
"We want to help you get rich. Plant your coins under this magic tree. In a few hours they'll turn to gold," said the Fox.

"Show me where," said Gyenyame excitedly. The Cat and Fox pointed to a patch of loose dirt. Gyenyame dug a hole and put the sack in it, marking the spot with a stone.
"Splendid!" exclaimed the Cat. "Now let's go to the inn for supper." After supper, the Fox and Cat, who weren't really lame or blind, quickly snuck away and disguised themselves as thieves. They hid by the tree waiting for Gyenyame to come back to dig up the money. After he dug up the coins they pounced on him.

"Give us your money!" they ordered. But Gyenyame held the sack between his teeth and resisted to give the sack to them. Again they demanded, "Give us your money!"
Gyenyame's Guardian Fairy, who was dressed all in blue and had blue hair, sent her dog, Rufus, to chase the Fox and Cat away. She ordered Rufus to bring Gyenyame back to her castle. "Please sit down," she told Gyenyame. Rufus kept one eye open to watch what was going on.

"Why didn't you go to school today?" she asked Gyenyame in a sweet voice.
"I did," answered Gyenyame. Just then, his nose shot out like a tree branch. "What's happening to my nose?" he cried. "Every time you tell a lie, your nose will grow. When you tell the truth, it will shrink," said the Blue Fairy. "Gyenyame, you can only become a real boy if you learn how to be brave, honest and generous." The Blue Fairy told Gyenyame to go home and not to stop for any reason. He tried to remember what the Blue Fairy told him.

On the way home he met some boys. "Come with us," said the boys. "We know a wonderful place filled with games, giant cakes, pretty candies and shows." The boys didn't know that if you were bad, you were turned into donkeys and trained for the show.
It was not very long before the boys began changing into donkeys.

Gyenyame could only grow a donkey's ears, feet and tail, because he was made of wood.
The festival master threw him into the sea. The instant he hit the water, the donkey’s tail fell off and his own ears and feet came back. He swam for a very long time. Just when he couldn't swim any longer, he was swallowed by a great whale. "It's dark here," scared Gyenyame said. He kept floating deep into the whale's stomach. "Who's there by the light?" called Gyenyame, his voice echoing.

"Gyenyame, is that you?" asked a tired voice.
"Father, you're alive!" Gyenyame shouted with joy. He wasn't scared anymore. Gyenyame helped Ato build a big raft that would hold both of them. When the raft was finished, Gyenyame tickled the whale. "Hold tight, Father. When he sneezes, he'll blow us out of here!" cried Gyenyame.

Home at last, Ato tucked Gyenyame into his bed. "Gyenyame, today you were brave, honest and generous," Ato said. "You are my son and I love you." Gyenyame remembered what the Blue Fairy told him. "Father, now that I've proven myself, I'm waiting for something to happen," he whispered as he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Gyenyame came running down the steps, jumping and waving his arms. He ran to Ato shouting, "Look Father, I'm a real boy!"

Why the Sea is salty
LONG AGO, there lived two brothers. The older brother was rich and successful, but mean and arrogant. The younger brother was very poor, but kind and generous.

One day the poor brother and his wife found that they had nothing to eat in their house. They had no money either and nothing that they could sell. To make matters worse, the next day was a holiday, a day of celebration.

“Where are we going to get something to eat? Tomorrow is a holiday. How will we celebrate?” asked the poor brother’s wife in tears. The poor man was in a fix. He did not know what to do.

“Go to your brother and ask for his help,” suggested the poor man’s wife. “He killed a cow yesterday – I saw him. Surely he will not grudge us a little meat for the holiday?”

The poor man sighed. He did not like to ask his brother for help, for he knew how mean and selfish his brother was. But the next day was a holiday and he really could not think about how else to get something to eat. So the poor man put on his ragged cloak and walked to his brother’s house.

“What do you want?” asked the rich man as soon as he saw the poor man. “Why do you come here?” cried the rich man’s wife. “Tomorrow is a holiday and we are busy preparing the feast. Go away! We have no time for you.

“Brother,” said the poor man, “We have nothing to eat in the house, no food to celebrate the holiday. Lend me a little meat so that I and my wife may also celebrate. “I knew it!” shrieked the rich man’s wife at her husband. “I knew your brother would come begging one day. Throw him out!”

The poor man ignored his brother’s wife. “Please, brother” he said, looking at the rich man. “Oh very well,” grumbled the rich man. “Take this and go to Laary. And he threw a cow’s hoof at the poor man.

The poor man thanked his brother and wrapping the cow’s hoof in his tattered cloak he began walking back to his house. As he walked he thought, “My brother did not give me the cow’s hoof. He has told me to take it to Laary. So this piece of meat is not mine to eat, but Jersey’s. I must take it to Laary.

Laary the wood-carver lived deep in the forest. So the poor man turned around and started walking towards the forest. The forest was dark and gloomy, but the poor man was determined to deliver the cow’s hoof to Laary. So he walked through the forest. After a while he met some wood cutters.

“Where are you going so deep in the forest?” asked the woodcutters. “To Laary the wood carver,” replied the poor man. “I have this cow hoof for him. Can you tell me how to find his hut?”
“Keep walking straight ahead,” said the woodcutters. “Turn neither left nor right and soon you will be at his hut. But listen carefully, Laary loves meat. He will offer you silver and gold and precious stones in gratitude. Don't accept any of those. Ask instead for his millstone. If he tries to offer you something else, refuse. Ask only for his millstone.'
The poor man thanked the woodcutters and walked on. Very soon he saw a hut. He went inside and there sat Laary, the Wood-carver himself.
'Why have you come here?' asked Laary. “I have brought you a gift,” said the poor man, “A cow hoof.” And he handed over the piece of meat to Laary. “Meat!” cried Laary in delight. “Quick, give it to me! I haven't eaten meat for thirty years!” Laary grabbed the hoof and ate it.
“Now I shall give you a gift in return,” said the Wood-carver. “Here, take some silver,” he said, pulling out a handful of silver coins.
“No, I don't want any silver,” said the poor man.
“Gold, then?” offered Laary, pulling out two handfuls of gold coins. “No. I don't want gold either,” said the poor man. “How about some precious stones?” asked Laary. “Then diamonds, rubies and sapphires?”
“No, thank you, I don't want any of those either,” said the poor man.
“Well, what do you want then,” asked Laary.
“I want your millstone,” replied the poor man.
“My millstone!” exclaimed Laary, “No, you can't have that. But I can give you anything else you like.”
'That's very kind of you,” said the poor man, “but I only want your millstone.”
Laary did not know what to do. He had eaten the cow's hoof and could not let the poor man go without a gift in return. “Oh well,” he said at last. “I suppose I must let you have my millstone. Take it. But do you know how to use it?'
“No,” said the poor man. “Tell me”.
“Well,” explained Laary, “this is a magic millstone. It will give you whatever you wish for. Just make your wish and say ‘Grind, my millstone’! When you have enough and want the millstone to stop, just say enough and have done! And it will stop. Now go!”
The poor man thanked Laary and wrapping the magic millstone in his tattered cloak, began walking back towards his home. He walked and walked and walked and at last reached his home. His wife was weeping, having given him up for death. “Where have you been?” she cried. “I thought I will never see you again!”
The poor man told his wife the tale of his adventures. Then, setting the magic millstone on to the table, he said, “Grind, my millstone! Give us a feast fit for a king.”
The millstone began to grind and there on the table poured the most wonderful dishes ever. The poor man and his wife ate and ate till they could eat no more. “Enough and have done!'” commanded the poor man and the millstone stopped grinding.
The next day the poor man and his wife celebrated the holiday happily. There was enough to eat and new clothes to wear. From then on they never lacked anything. The millstone gave them a fine new house, green fields full of crops, horses and cattle and enough food to eat and clothes to wear. Soon they had so much that they did not really need to use the millstone any more.
The rich brother heard of the poor man's change of fortune. “How could my brother have become rich so suddenly?” he wondered. “I must find out.'” So the rich brother went to the poor brother's house. “How have you become rich so quickly?” he asked.
The poor brother told him everything - about Laary and his gift of the magic millstone. 'I must get that millstone for myself,' thought the rich brother. 'Show me the millstone,' he demanded.
The poor brother, not suspecting his brother of any wickedness, did so. He put the millstone on the table and said, “Grind, my millstone! Give us good things to eat.” At once the millstone began turning and out poured the most delicious pies and cakes and breads on the table. The rich brother could not believe his eyes. “Sell me your millstone!” he begged of the poor brother.
“No,” said the poor man. “The millstone is not for sale.”
“Well then, lend it to me for a bit,” said the rich brother. “After all, it was I who gave you the cow's hoof to carry to Laary!”
The poor brother thought for a bit. What harm could there be in letting his brother have the millstone for a while? “Very well, you may borrow it for a day,” said the poor man.
The rich brother was delighted. He grabbed the millstone and ran off with it, without asking how to make it stop. He put the millstone into a boat and rowed out to sea with it, where the fishermen were hauling in their catch of fish.
“The fishermen are salting the fish right now,” he thought. “They will pay well for fine salt.” He was far out to sea by now, far away from any land. There was no one to hear him as he said “Grind, my millstone! Give me salt, as much as you can!”
The millstone began to turn and out poured the finest, whitest salt imaginable. Soon the boat was full. The rich man decided to stop the millstone. But he did not know how. “Stop, my millstone!” he cried. “Stop grinding. I don't want any more salt.” But the millstone kept turning, pouring out the finest whitest salt.
The rich man begged and pleaded with the millstone to stop. But he did not know the magic words. So the millstone kept turning and pouring out salt and more salt. The rich brother tried to throw the millstone overboard, but he couldn't lift it. The boat was now so full of salt that it began sinking.
“Help!” cried the rich man. But there was no one there to hear him. The millstone kept turning; pouring out salt till it sank to the bottom of the sea with the rich man and the millstone. The rich man drowned for his greed.
But the magic millstone kept turning, even at the bottom of the sea, pouring out the finest whitest salt. It is turning there to this very day, making more and more salt.
Believe it or not,that is why the sea is salty!
How the name “Tortoise” came into being
W
hen God made a creature, He first of all shaped it in clay. Then He baked it in the ovens of the sun until it was hard. Then he took it out of the oven and when it was cool, breathed life into it. Last of all, he pulled its skin on to it like a tight jersey.
All the animals got different skins. If it was a cold day, God would give to the animals He made on that day a dense, woolly skin. Snow was falling heavily when he made the sheep and the bears.

If it was a hot day, the new animals got a thin skin. On the day he made greyhounds and dachshunds and boys and girls, the weather was so hot God had to wear a sun hat and was calling endlessly for iced drinks. Now on the day He made Torto, God was so hot the sweat was running down on to the tips of his fingers.

After baking Torto in the oven, God took him out to cool. Then He flopped back in His chair and ordered Elephant to fan him with its ears. He had made Elephant only a few days before and was very pleased with its big flapping ears. At last He thought that Torto must surely be cool.

"He's had as long as I usually give a little thing like him," he said and picking up Torto, he breathed life into him. As he did so, he found out his mistake.

Torto was not cool, far from it. On that hot day, with no cooling breezes, Torto had remained scorching hot. Just as he was when he came out of the oven. "Ow!" roared God. He dropped Torto and went hopping away on one leg to the other end of His workshop, shaking His burnt fingers. "Ow, ow, ow!" he roared again and plunged His hand into his ice bucket to cure the burns.

Torto meanwhile lay on the floor, just alive, groaning with the heat. "Oh, I'm so hot!" he moaned. "So hot! The heat. Oh, the heat!" God was alarmed that He had given Torto life before he was properly cooled.

"Just a minute, Torto," He said. "I'll have a nice, thin, cooling skin on you in a jiffy. Then you'll feel better." But Torto wanted no skin. He was too hot as it was. "No, no!" he cried. "I shall choke. Let me go without a skin for a few days. Let me cool off first."
"That's impossible," said God. "All creatures must have skins."
"No, no!" cried Torto, wiping the sweat from his little forehead. "No skin!"
"Yes!" cried God.
"No!" cried Torto.
"Yes!"
"No!"
God made a grab at Torto, who ducked and ran like lightning under a cupboard. Without any skin to cumber his movements, Torto felt very light and agile. "Come out!" roared God and got down on His knees to fumble under the cupboard for Torto.

In a flash, Torto was out from under the other end of the cupboard and while God was still struggling to his feet, he ran out through the door and into the world, without a skin.
The first thing he did was to go to a cool pond and plunge straight into it. There he lay, for several days, just cooling off. Then he came out and began to live among the other creatures. But he was still very hot. Whenever he felt his own heat getting too much for him, he retired to his pond to cool off in the water. In this way, he found life pleasant enough, except for one thing.

The other creatures didn't approve of Torto. They all had skins. When they saw Torto without a skin, they were horrified. "But he has no skin!" cried Porcupine. "It's disgusting and indecent. He's not normal; leave him to himself”.
So all the animals began to ignore Torto. But they couldn't ignore him completely, because he was a wonderfully swift runner and whenever they held a race, he won it. He was so quick without a skin that none of the other creatures could hope to keep up with him.

"I'm a genius-runner," he said. "You should respect me. I am faster than a lot of you put together. I was made different." But the animals still ignored him. Even when they had to give him the prizes for winning all the races, they still ignored him. "Torto is a very swift mover," they said, "and perhaps swifter than any of us. But what sort of a creature is he? No skin!" And they all turned up their noses.

together, with all their fur brushed and combed and set neatly, he strolled among them, smiling happily, naked.

“When will this disgusting creature learn to behave?” cried Turkey, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Just take no notice of him,” said Alligator and lumbered round in his heavy armour to face in the opposite direction. All the animals turned round to face in the opposite direction.

When Torto went up to Grizzly Bear to ask what everyone was looking at, Grizzly Bear pretended to have a fly in his ear. When he went to Armadillo, he gathered up all his sons and daughters and led them off without a word or a look. “So that's your game, is it?” said Torto to himself. Then aloud, he said: “Never mind. Wait till it comes to the races."

When the races came later in the afternoon, Torto won them all. But nobody cheered. He collected the prizes and went off to his pond alone. “They're jealous of me,” he said. “That's why they ignore me. But I'll punish them: I'll go on winning all the races.”

That night, God came to Torto and begged him to take a proper skin before it was too late. Torto shook his head: “The other animals are snobs,” he said. “Just because they are covered with a skin, they think everyone else should be covered with one too. That's arrogance. But I shall teach them not to be snobs by making them respect me. I shall go on winning all the races.” And so he did. But still the animals didn't respect him. In fact, they grew to dislike him more and more.

One day there was a very important race-meeting and all the animals gathered at the usual place. But the minute Torto arrived they simply walked away. Torto sat on the race-track and stared after them. He felt really left out. “Perhaps,” he thought sadly, "it would be better if I had a skin. I might not be able to run then, but at least I would have friends. I have no friends. Besides, after all this practice, I would still be able to run quite fast."

But as soon as he said that he felt angry with himself. "No!" he cried. "They are snobs. I shall go on winning their races in spite of them. I shall teach them a lesson.”
And he got up from where he was sitting and followed them. He found them all in one place, under a tree. And the races were being run.
"Hey!" he called as he came up to them. "What about me?"
But at that moment, Tiger held up a sign in front of him. On the sign, Torto read: "Creatures without skins are not allowed to enter." Torto went home and brooded. God came up to him. "Well, Torto," said God kindly, "would you like a skin yet?" Torto thought deeply.

"Yes," he said at last, "I would like a skin. But only a very special sort of skin."
"And what sort of a skin is that?" asked God.
"I would like," said Torto, "a skin that I can put on, or take off, just whenever I please." God frowned.

"I'm afraid," he said. "I have none like that." "Then make one," replied Torto. "You're God." God went away and came back within an hour. "Do you want a beautiful skin?" he asked. "Or do you mind if it's very ugly?"
"I don't care what sort of a skin it is," said Torto, "so long as I can take it off and put it back on again just whenever I please."

God went away and again came back within an hour. "Here it is. That's the best I can do."
"What's this!" cried Torto. "But it's horrible!" "Take it or leave it," said God and walked away. Torto examined the skin. It was tough and stiff. "It's like a coconut," he said. "with holes in it." And so it was. Only it was shiny. When he tried it on, he found it quite comfortable. It had only one disadvantage. He could move only very slowly in it.
"What's the hurry?" he said to himself then. "When it comes to moving, who can move faster than me?"

And he laughed. Suddenly he felt delighted. Away he went to where the animals were still running their races. As he came near to them, he began to think that perhaps his skin was a little rough and ready. But he checked himself: "Why should I dress up for them?" he said. "This rough old thing will do. The races are the important thing."

Tiger lowered his notice and stared in dismay as Torto swaggered past him. All the animals were now turning and staring, nudging each other and turning and staring.
"That's a change, anyway," thought Torto. Then, as usual, he entered for all the races.
The animals began to talk and laugh among themselves as they pictured Torto trying to run in his heavy new clumsy skin.

"He'll look silly and then how we'll laugh." And they all laughed. But when he took his skin off at the starting-post, their laughs turned to frowns. He won all the races and then climbed back into his skin to collect the prizes. He marched in front of all the animals.
"Now it's my turn to be snobbish," he said to himself.

Then he went home, took off his skin and slept sweetly. Life was perfect for him.
This went on for many years. But though the animals would now speak to him, they remembered what he had been. That didn't worry Torto, however. He became very fond of his skin. He began to keep it on at night when he came home after the races. He began to do everything in it, except the race. He crept around slowly, smiling at the leaves, letting the days pass.

There came a time when there were no races for several weeks. During all this time Torto never took his skin off once. Until, when the first race came round at last, he found he could not take his skin off at all, no matter how he pushed and pulled. He was stuck inside it. He strained and squeezed and gasped, but it was no use. He was stuck. However, he had already entered for all the races, so he had to run. He lined up, in his skin, at the start, alongside Hare, Greyhound, Cheetah and Ostrich. They were all great runners, but usually he could beat the lot of them easily. The crowd stood curious.

"Perhaps," Torto was thinking, "my skin won't make much difference. I've never really tried to run my very fastest in it." The starter's pistol cracked and away went Grey- hound, Hare, Cheetah and Ostrich, neck and neck.

Where was Torto? The crowd roared with laughter. Torto had fallen on his face and had not moved an inch. At his first step, covered by his stiff, heavy skin, he had fallen on his face. But he tried. He climbed back on to his feet and made one stride, slowly, then a second stride and was just about to make a third when the race was over and Cheetah had won. Torto had moved not quite three paces. How the crowd laughed!

And so it was with all the races. In no one race did Torto manage to make more than three steps, before it was over. The crowd was enjoying itself. Torto was weeping with shame. After the last race, he turned to crawl home. But though the other animals had let him go off alone when he had the prizes, now they came alongside him, in a laughing, mocking crowd.

"Who's the slowest of all the creatures?" they shouted.
"Torto is!"
"Who's the slowest of all the creatures?"
"Torto is!" all the way home.
After that, Torto tried to keep himself out of sight, but the other animals never let him rest. Whenever any of them chanced to see him, they would shout at the tops of their voices: "Who's the slowest of all the creatures?"
And every other creature within hearing would answer, at the tops of their voices:
"Torto is!"
And that is how Torto came to be known as "Tortoise".

The leopard man
Ahandsome stranger once came into a certain village called Dadiase and strolled about among the people in mysterious silence. All the maidens admired him and wished that he would choose one of them for his bride. But he said nothing and at last walked away into the forest and disappeared from sight.

A month later the stranger came again and this time one of the maidens fell so much in love with him that she resolved to follow him into the forest, as she could not bear to be separated from him.

When the stranger looked back and saw her coming behind him, he stopped and begged her to return home; but she would not and exclaimed, “I will never leave you; wherever you go, I will follow.”

“Beautiful maiden, you will regret it,” replied the stranger sadly, as he hurried on.

After a while he stopped again and once more begged her to retrace her steps. But she made the same reply and again the handsome stranger said in sorrowful tones, “You will regret it, beautiful maiden!”

They went far into the depths of the forest and at length reached a tree at the foot of which there lay a leopard skin.

Standing under the tree, the stranger began to sing a melancholy song, in which he told her that though he was allowed once a month to wander about in villages and towns like a man, he was in reality a wild leopard and would rend her in pieces as soon as he regained his natural form.

With these words he threw himself upon the ground and immediately become a roaring leopard and began to pursue the terrified girl.

But fear gave such speed to her feet that he could not overtake her. As he pursued her, he sang that he would tear her in small pieces and she in another song replied that he would never overtake her.

For a great distance they ran and the maiden suddenly came to a deep but narrow river, which she could not cross. It seemed as if the leopard would catch her after all. But a tree, which stood on the riverbank, took pity on her and fell across the river so that she could be able to cross.

At last, nearly exhausted, she came to the edge of the forest and reached the village in safety. The leopard, disappointed of its prey, sneaked back into the forest and the handsome stranger was never seen again.

The man who never lied
ONCE upon a time, there lived a wise man by name Koohia. He never lied. All the people in the land, even the ones who lived twenty days away, knew about him.
The king in the village heard about Koohia and ordered his subjects to bring him to the palace. He looked at the wise man and asked:
“Koohia, is it true, that you have never lied?”
“It’s true.”
“And you will never lie in your life?”
“I'm sure in that.”

“Okay, tell the truth, but be careful! The lie is cunning and it gets on your tongue easily.”
Several days passed and the king called Koohia once again. There was a big crowd: the king was about to go hunting. The king held his horse by the mane; his left foot was already on the stirrup. He ordered Koohia:

“Go to my palace and tell the queen I will be with her for lunch. Tell her to prepare a big feast. You will have lunch with me then.”
Koohia bowed down and went to the queen. Then the king laughed and said:
“We won't go hunting and now Koohia will lie to the queen. Tomorrow we will laugh on his behalf.”

But the wise Koohia went to the palace and said:
“Maybe you should prepare a big feast for lunch tomorrow but maybe you shouldn't. Maybe the king will come by noon but maybe he won't.”
“Tell me will he come, or won't he?" - asked the queen.
“I don't know weather he put his right foot on the stirrup, or he put his left foot on the ground after I left.”

Everybody waited for the king. He came the next day and said to the queen:
“The wise Koohia, who never lies, lied to you yesterday.”
But the queen told him about the words of Koohia. And the king realized that the wise man never lies and says only that, which he saw with his own eyes.

The two wonderful friends
TWO boys were born on the very same day in a certain village called Dormeabra and they grew up to be firm friends. Sintim was the rich one while Mensah was poor. They looked so alike that nobody could tell the one from the other.

After spending his youth days in the usual tribal pursuits - grass cutting, hunting of hares, mice and rats and later bigger game - Sintim had a yearning to see something of the world outside. It was only natural that he should ask his poor friend to go along with him.

When they reached the next village, Sintim was so dazzled by the beauty of a most lovely girl called Mariama that he immediately asked her to marry him, adding, “I would be prepared to give a hundred cattle for such loveliness.”

“My father is Chief of the village,” she replied, “and it is his wish that I should marry a man capable of doing superhuman things. He sets a task for my suitors, such a difficult one that I fear I shall grow old without ever being married.”

To the Chief the young man said, “Sir, I wish to marry your daughter, surely the most beautiful woman in the whole of Africa. Tell me what to do and it shall be done. Where others have failed, I shall succeed, because my love for your daughter is boundless.”

But the young man became sad when the Chief told him what his task would be. Guarded by an old woman, he would have to spend six days and six nights in a hut - without any food or water to sustain him. And if he did not succeed thus, cried for food or water before the time was up, he would be killed. So consumed with love was he that he accepted the conditions.

They put him in a prison-like hut that had no windows. And in the long and narrow doorway, the old woman slept on her mat like a human watchdog. Sintim put his bed-mat against the wall that faced the street and so the first long day crawled slowly from sunrise to sunset.

When the night was dark and the villagers asleep, Sintim's pre-arranged plan came into operation. After wetting the wall, Mensah made a small hole in it with his knife and through this hole he quietly pushed a hollow reed, dipping its end into the calabash of water. On the other end, Sintim was able to drink the sweet, life-giving liquid without even rising from his mat and when the calabash was drained, Mensah removed the reed, plastered the wall with mud to hide the hole and quietly stole off into the darkness.

Every night he did this, while the old woman became more and more suspicious, for no previous suitor had lasted more than three days before crying for food and water. On the fifth night she commanded Sintim to sleep against the other wall of the hut while she lay down on his bed-mat. For the first time in his life the young man knew fear.

While the village was sleeping and the bullfrogs croaked down at the river, the old woman heard a soft scraping noise and after a few minutes a hollow reed poked through and she drank the water from Mensah's calabash. In triumph she shouted, “So that's how you've sustained yourself these past five days - by cheating! The Chief will hear of this in the morning, my own calabash filled with water will be the evidence that will end your life.”

Mensah heard this as he withdrew the reed with trembling fingers. He also heard his friend weeping with sorrow and he knew a mingling of sadness and fear. Stealing back into the darkness, he wondered how he could help the friend who was to him as a brother.
Suddenly a voice came crying out of the darkness: “Young man, you are worried. Can I be of assistance?” Mensah looked hard in all directions but could not see anybody. “Look down,” the voice cried, “I am Ninja, the rat. Tell me your problem and I will try to find a solution.”

When Mensah had told his tale, Ninja said, “Leave it to me. You sleep well tonight. Your friend is no longer in danger.” And he was gone, rustling through the dry grass. Reaching the old woman's hut, Ninja created a hole through the wall and while the old woman went on sleeping, he pushed the calabash through the hole where his friends, the white ants, stood waiting in rows, drawn up like soldiers on a parade-ground. They ate the calabash, not even the smallest chip remained.

The sun came up and the old woman found that she had no evidence and as nobody would believe her fantastic story, Sintim was able to marry Mariama and took her to his village. There his father built a house for them and a house for poor Mensah. To Sintim and Mensah, he gave magic knives, made by the giants in the far-off mountains. They were so alike that nobody could possibly tell the difference between them. “One day you will need the magic of the knives,” he said to them.

After some months, Mensah the poor man announced that he had a desire to travel to a faraway village to find a wife for himself so that he could be as radiantly happy as Mariama and Sintim. But first he planted a silk-cotton tree and said that he would leave when it was as high as his knee.

When the tree had grown and he was about to set off on his travels, he said to Sintim, “See how it flowers, this cotton-seed tree of mine that I planted in a hole cut out by magic knife given me by your father. If these leaves become withered and dry, it will be a sign that I am either dead or in the most desperate trouble. Good-bye and may your happiness grow during my absence.”

For days he travelled across plains until he could see in the distance a village. Approaching, he heard the sound of weeping and wailing, a vast sad sound coming from the throats of hundreds of people. And just ahead of him he could see a lonely girl sitting in the dry riverbed. She was as beautiful as Mariama and he was in love with her before he even came close to ask her what was causing the misery in the village.

“The River god is cruel and demanding. So the river flows only when a young girl is sacrificed. One by one, all the young maidens have been devoured by the River god and now it is my turn, I, Karima, the daughter of the chief, for I am the last one left and my people will die without the water that only my sacrifice will save them. So go away and leave me before the River God comes at sunset to devour me.

But Mensah refused to go, for what man will leave the woman he loves when she is in danger? All day he sat with her, telling her of his love for her and how he would take her back to his village as his wife after he dealt with the cruel River god.

As the sun sank, there was rumbling in the sand near them and out of the earth came the biggest snake Mensah had ever seen. It was as thick as the mighty baobab tree and the young man was filled with fear, but he dashed forward and with a sweep of his magic knife he cut off the monster's head. Water came gushing out of the huge headless snake and even as it tried to slide back into its hole, Mensah was cutting it into pieces. Out of each piece the water flowed unceasingly. Laughing with joy and relief, Mensah and Karima ran out of the river-bed as it filled with the sweet life-giving water until the river was flowing through the village and the thirsty villagers were drinking greedily.

Of course, Karima and Mensah married immediately, but because she had - according to tribal law - already been sacrificed to the River god and therefore no longer really living - they had to build their hut some distance from the village. This did not worry them, as they were able to entertain their friends in their hut and many grateful villagers came to pass the time of day with them.

Few weeks after the marriage, there was an astonishing happening. Every piece of meat in the village - chops, steaks, even sausage boiling in the pan - suddenly jumped up and ran towards the distant hill. The young man could not believe his eyes. Never before had he seen meat actually running.

A few days later, Mensah went hunting with ten young men from the village. Seeing an antelope, they gave chase and in their excitement kept running even when the animal passed the dreaded rock which opened its stony mouth wide and swallowed them all.
At that very moment, many miles away, Sintim happened to be standing at the cotton-seed tree planted by Mensah and now as high as his chest. Even as he looked, the leaves withered and dried up and he knew that his friend was either dead or in great danger. He set out immediately.

Three days later, he reached the hut where Karima and Mensah lived. He looked so much like Mensah that Karima thought her husband had returned from the hunt.

“Three days you have been gone,” she cried. “You must have hunted many animals for the pots of the villagers.” “Yes,” he replied, pretending to be Mensah so that she would not be alarmed. “It was a splendid hunt and we were very successful, but I must go away again immediately, for a great herd of buffalo is moving across the plain and we need all the meat we can get before the lean season comes on."

And in spite of her pleadings, he ran to the village and spoke with the chief who said sadly to him, “Of course, we haven't told Karima what happened, but ten young men and Mensah have disappeared. They haven't been seen for three days and it is believed that they were swallowed up by the rock on the sacred hill.”

“Mensah is my dearest friend,” said Sintim. “I must rescue him. Let some young men guide me to this abominable rock and I shall see what I can do.” They tried to discourage him, but he was persistent and ten young hunters led him to the rock. “There it is,” they said. “We admire your bravery, but we ourselves are too afraid to go any farther.”

Sintim strode up to the rock and the watchers saw it bending over to swallow him. But he stabbed at it with his magic knife and the watchers cheered as the rock broke into two halves and the ten lost hunters including Mensah marched out, singing, laughing, happy to be back with their friends in the sunlight again.

“Which one is my husband?” cried Karima as the two young men, looking exactly alike, stood before her.

“I am your husband,” said Mensah," and this is my dear friend Sintim who saved us all.” And he told her of their friendship and adventures together and how Sintim had come to help him when the cotton-seed tree's leaves withered and dried up. “Such likeness!” she cried. “Such is friendship and devotion! How truly wonderful it is and how proud I am of both of you.”

They went back home with Sintim, built a house near his and the two young men including their wives Mariama and Karima remained dear friends for the rest of their long lives.

The grasshopper and the toad
Grasshopper and Toad appeared to be good friends and the people always saw them together. Yet they had never dined at each other's house. One day Toad said to Grasshopper, “Dear friend, tomorrow come and dine at my house. My wife and I will prepare a special meal. We will eat together.”
The next day Grasshopper arrived at Toad's house. Before sitting down to eat, Toad washed his forelegs and invited Grasshopper to do the same. Grasshopper did so and it made a loud noise. “Friend Grasshopper, can't you leave your chirping behind. I cannot eat with such a noise,” said Toad.

Grasshopper tried to eat without rubbing his forelegs together, but it was impossible. Each time he gave a chirp, Toad complained and asked him to be quiet. Grasshopper was angry and could not eat. Finally, he said to Toad: “I invite you to my house for dinner, tomorrow.”

The next day, Toad arrived at Grasshopper's home. As soon as the meal was ready, Grasshopper washed his forelegs and invited Toad to do the same. Toad did so and then hopped toward the food. “You had better go back and wash again,” said Grasshopper. “All that hopping in the dirt has made your forelegs dirty again.”

Toad hopped back to the water jar, washed again, then hopped back to the table and was ready to reach out for some food from one of the plates when Grasshopper stopped him: “Please don’t put your dirty feet into the food. Go and wash them again.”

Toad became very furious. “You just don't want me to eat with you!” he cried. “You know very well that I must use my paws and forelegs in hopping about. I cannot help it if they get a bit dirty between the water jar and the table.”

Grasshopper responded, “You are the one who started it yesterday. You know I cannot rub my forelegs together without making a noise.” From then on, they were no longer friends.

Moral: If you wish to have true friendship with someone, learn to accept each other's faults, as well as each other's good qualities.

THIS LAND IS NATURAL GOLD COAST, NOT “GHANA”

I was highly delighted when I read in your editorial comment on Thursday, October 28, 2010, that the reason why this Land was called the Gold Coast is still alive for everyone to see, with Gold still covering every part of the country. God bless you for that observation and comment.

In fact, this land is living to its past and present bidding and that there can be no argument to challenge what we see physically on this Coast of Gold. Gold Coast is a natural name of this land, as is overwhelmingly accepted. Yes, every land thrives on its natural Name. As ordained by God, no land succeeds without its natural name.

For the past 53 years, the question that has been on the lips of people has been whether we did well in throwing away the Natural Name Gold Coast for that clumsy outlandish Sahel Arabic epithet which has no bearing whatsoever on this land. And there have been various signs that call on us to revert to the Natural name to save this nation. Why are we still adamant?

One might be tempted to ask: what did we see before we changed the Gold Coast to “Ghana” and what has been the effect of throwing away the natural name for a strange name “Ghana” which was cast away as far back as 1076 in the Sahelian region of Africa? Advocating for the change of the name “Ghana” has never waned and there have been several signs to support the reason and the initiative.

Were the politicians playing with the land which contains all sorts of physically powerful living spirits like rivers, mountains, rocks, minerals, lakes, lagoons, hills and other God’s creations on our physical map? Was Ghana adopted as a real name or just a nick-name? Eh, politicians!

It will be recalled that during the Limann regime, Gold sprang everywhere in the country, and a Gold Endowment Seminar was held in Accra. In his speech President Limann said “it was not for nothing that this country was named the Gold Coast.” That phrase “not for nothing” was repeated over and over at various exhibitions on “Gold” which were followed in several trade fairs in Europe and America. The great name GOLD COAST made for huge tourist attraction in this country.

Limann’s vision to revert to the Gold Coast was a good premonition, but however overwhelming it was, it did not see the light of day, until his overthrow. It will be recalled that when a Moroccan team called WAC came to Kumasi to play Kotoko in an African club championship, in the late 80s, their captain was called El Ghana and when he was confronted to tell us where he got that name, he in turn asked journalists where we stole the name from.

It was a shame to us when he asked what “Ghana” meant to us, and from which dialect we got the name. It was a clear significance that we should revert to our natural “Gold Coast” there and then, but who was there to bell the cat?

Then again, it will be recalled that in one of the American space travels, the rotating earth they saw from space showed a special light which was thrown from this planet and in their puzzle to unravel the mystery, they opened their camera aperture wider to confirm it was from the light thrown by the Gold from no other place, but from this Land.
This was the eighth wonder of the world and it was seen in this Coast of Gold. Wonderful eh? Yes, they brought the video clip here in the late eighties to be shown to Rawlings at the Castle, knowing that the wonderful natural sign would impress him to think of reverting to the glorious natural name Gold Coast, but, it ended there. What a pity!

Ghana is an outlandish Arabic epithet stolen from the old Sahara Kingdom and since all Lands thrive on their natural names, one wonders why with all the wisdom endowed on our Religious leaders, politicians and intellectuals it has never dawned on any of them to realize that Ghana is a misplaced identity that works negatively against our PRAYERS and that it has had a harmful effect on the country for the past 53 years.

Events happening in this country show that there are serious spiritual predicaments that can only be overcome with the change of name and the adoption of our strong spiritual, natural name “The Gold Coast” which was hastily thrown away on the eve of independence for the adoption of Ghana without checking on its veracity and future ramifications. Oh what a hell of mistake!

Visible signs of backsliding are being shown all over and the various ruling elites have unfortunately not had the spiritual gift to see how bad the name is. Ghana is odd as far as this Land is concerned; it is not feared, it is not loved, it lacks that grit of belonging. One wonders why Dr. Danquah who suggested its adoption later declared at a rally at Paladium in Accra in 1956 that it was a treacherous name and that he had gone to discuss it with Nkrumah, yet Nkrumah went ahead to proclaim it and declared himself the “founder” of Ghana.

The issue here is that we are looking on sheepishly as all our heavy investments under the dreadful name “Ghana” collapse in front of us - Ghana Airways, Ghana National Trading Corporation (GNTC), Ghana Industrial Holding Corporation (GIHOC), Ghana Black Star Line (GBSL), Ghana State Fishing Corporation (GSFC), Ghana Food Production Corporation, Ghana Food Distribution Corporation, Ghana State Construction Corporation, Ghana State Hotels Corporation, Ghana State Transport Corporation, Ghana Railways Corporation and many more. Do we take such failures and disasters for granted? It is not too late. Let’s be serious.

Under such a situation, is it any wonder that the nation is breeding hungry unemployed young men and women, some of whom have adopted the wicked acts like thugery, armed robbery, prostitution, forgery and other anti-social canker which are challenges to various governments without finding answers? Oh, Mother Gold Coast, come and see outlandish Ghana!

I remember when Ghana was adopted, (I was then working at the Ministry of Education) and it looked as if everything went weird, despite all the sweet legacy left by the British and those were the days of the refrain: “Ghana woyoo”, “ibi Ghana we dey”, or Ghana na yewo no”, literally meaning “we are now in Ghana”, as if Ghana did not belong to anybody. That was the beginning of all the “I don’t care,” corruption and other social vices.

If “Ghana” was a living body like our Gold Coast, I don’t believe we would turn our backs to it and care less whether it would collapse or not. All lands have close connection with their names, as they happen to be accepted and loved as existing living entities in the countries of origin. Check out on African, European, Asian and American countries and find out how we fall short of ideas.

Shall I say that we have to pacify and glorify our land and its Creator with the adoption of a Natural Name and all other things shall be added unto it. And from that moment the difficulty in governance would be easily mitigated! And we will be surprised to see how our Oil will flow in abundance at Saltpond, Cape Three Point and Keta.

Please let us throw Ghana back to the Sahel where it belongs and let us have our Gold Coast and see its effect on our life. Period! “Ghana” is an age-old mistake we are correcting, and it will cost us next to nothing, probably only the ink. Am I talking to somebody? Is lucky Prof Mills alive to this? Let me repeat again: BLESSED IS HE WHO WILL CHANGE THE NAME!

WHY EVERYONE RESIDENT IN GHANA MUST SUPPORT THE 2010 CENSUS

Very soon, the Government of Ghana will be expected to announce a specific date for the commencement of Ghana’s 2010 Population and Housing Census planned for the second half of this year.

Since 2007, the Ghana Statistical Service has been meticulously planning and preparing to undertake this national exercise in accordance with United Nations recommendations, and the stipulation of the Statistical Law of Ghana (PNDC Law 135 of 1985) which empowers the Government Statistician to conduct any statistical enquiry in the country, including population and housing censuses, among others.

As the Ghana Statistical Service steadily enhances its state of preparedness towards a highly successful Census, it is imperative that everyone resident in Ghana (both nationals and non-nationals) take a moment to reflect on the nature, importance and benefits of this national exercise, and why we all must support it.

Statisticians define a Population Census as the official enumeration of all persons in a country at a specified time. This enumeration also implies the collection, compilation, evaluation, analysis, publication and dissemination of demographic, social and economic statistics relating to the population.

A Housing Census, on the other hand, is the official enumeration of all living quarters (occupied and vacant) and occupants thereof in a country at a specified time. This enumeration also involves the collection, compilation, evaluation, analysis, publication and dissemination of statistical data pertaining to these living quarters and their occupants. Even though, each type of census is a complete exercise on its own, the 2010 Census will be a combination of two exercises i.e. a Population and Housing Census.

Relating the aforementioned definitions to Ghana in lay people’s terms, this simply means that the 2010 Population and Housing Census will tell us how many people are in Ghana irrespective of their nationality, and who they are in terms of age, sex, education, marital status, literacy, educational attainment, occupation, and economic activity. In addition, the Census will give us access to other information like where the people reside in terms of permanent and temporary residential structures, and the availability of other vital social services like water, health, education, and housing conditions, among others, to the minutest administrative units.

There are several reasons why we must conduct the 2010 Census. First, every national statistical system MUST from time to time update its data base with a national census. This will ensure that Ghana’s data systems remain current, accurate and relevant. The last Census conducted in Ghana was in the year 2000. Since censuses are mostly decennial (i.e. conducted in or every 10 years), it is imperative that we update our statistical system if we wish to have current and relevant social, economic and demographic information to assist national, regional and district administrations as well as businesses, industries, the media, academia, research institutions and international organizations in sound evidence-based decision making.

In a nutshell, Census data, in combination with macro data from other sources like the Ghana Living Standards Survey (GLSS), the Core Welfare Indicator Questionnaire Survey (CWIQ), and Ghana Demographic and Health Survey (GDHS), will serve as an invaluable data base on the population, for the government’s operations, and for decision-making by the business community and Ghana’s development partners. Furthermore, there are several specific benefits of Census data which are considered a sine qua non for successful national and business development. The following are just a few examples of such benefits.

Census data is invaluable in planning because it will provide explicit information on the size, distribution, and characteristics of Ghana’s population. This kind of information is indispensable for formulating and monitoring evidence-based policies and programmes that will improve the welfare of the people. In addition, it serves as a guide for evaluating the effectiveness of such policies and programmes for providing basic social sector services. For example, in the area of education, the data can reveal any lack of equality in how quality formal education is accessible to various groups of people spread over various geographical locations. As an illustration, the data could tell the disparity in formal education between men and women, and between urban and rural populations, which government can address.

Another example can be seen in the provision of pipe-borne water. The demand for water is largely determined by population size. This means that future demand for water is dependent on how large the population will be. Since the Census data is a unique source of information including small area data (up to the one person settlement), it becomes very essential for regional and district level planning.

Thus, current population size will also serve as a basis for developing credible projections of the future population size which can very useful in planning for water supply and other essential social services for the urban and rural areas.

Census data is useful for both governmental and non-governmental institutions for measuring progress towards national development goals by putting indicators in place and monitoring their implementation. In this way, Government developmental policies/goals on education, health, and housing, among others, can be tracked easily and modified as and when necessary.

Accurate census data is needed for the efficient and equitable demarcation of electoral constituencies and adjustment of administrative boundaries. This enhances the foundation and means for good governance, and the consolidation of Ghana’s democracy. In addition, reliable census data can assist with rational allocation of revenues among districts. Thus, the 2010 Census will be also very useful in this capacity.

In a nutshell, the Census data will be very useful to individuals and business, industry and labour institutions especially in Demand Forecasting, Product Development and Marketing, and Location Decisions, among others. For example, information on the size of the population and its distribution at least by age and sex, in the regions and districts, down to small area settlements, will be needed in estimating consumer demands for certain goods and services. The Census will provide such current information. And when businesses use the Census data to decide where to locate factories, shopping centres, banks and offices, it will invariably lead to the creation of more jobs.

Census data is also very critical in the area of research. For example, it can be analyzed to understand the composition of the population and the determinants of population phenomena like urbanization, labour force participation, migration, fertility and mortality for various groups, and can help answer such questions as how and why Ghana’s population is changing.

Housing data from the 2010 Census will enable planners and policy makers to formulate realistic and relevant housing policies, and design appropriate programmes to meet Ghana’s housing needs. For instance, information obtained from the Census on housing quality indicated by the materials used for constructing various housing units, and the availability of facilities like water and sanitation serve as important indicators of the occupants’ quality of life. Such information can aid the government in designing housing improvement programmes. Furthermore, data collected from enumerating the floating population (homeless people) will give an exact indication of the housing challenge in various localities.

The 2010 Census will provide data that could help government identify disadvantaged or deprived areas and districts, and special population groups like women, children, youth, the elderly and disabled. Such information can help the government establish priorities for action.

Aside helping policy makers to identify deprived and disadvantaged population groups and geographical areas, the 2010 Census data, when combined with other survey data, will tell us where the poor are, why they are poor, and the nature of their lives. Such information will serve as a primary tool for developing a targeted Poverty Reduction Strategy. In addition, it will give the evidence needed to develop and monitor effective development policies. Most importantly, it will serve as a guide for directing resources and programmes to poor people and poor areas.

The Census will be an important source of data on persons with disabilities in that it will aid us in assessing the social and living conditions of such people in terms of school attendance, educational attainment, employment, marital status and living arrangements. This information will provide the basis for developing policies to meet the needs of persons with disabilities, and for evaluating the effectiveness of those policies.

Aside Ghana’s development partners, donors, investors and other world bodies who need Census information to guide them in planning technical and economic assistance to this country, data realized from censuses are vital to the work of the United Nations system as a whole because they provide inputs for official UN population estimates and projections.

From all indications, the Statistical Service has meticulously prepared to undertake this sophisticated and huge national exercise. (GSS’s state of preparedness will be analyzed in subsequent articles).

Aside the Ghana Statistical Service, every individual has an important role to play in the forthcoming Census. For it to be highly successful, it requires the co-operation and participation of everyone resident in Ghana. Thus, it is very important to note the following: The 2010 Census will be easy because Census Officials will visit you in the comfort of your own home (no queuing); Be friendly and cooperate with the Census Official; Make an effort to answer every question you are asked because every correct answer provided will help ensure the accuracy of the 2010 Census; the information you give to the Census Official will be treated as private and confidential.

Finally, everyone resident in Ghana should remember that it is every individual’s civic duty to support the 2010 Census because correct and accurate data from the census will assist our national, metropolitan, municipal and district authorities to make effective plans for our educational, health, housing and other socio-economic services. Ultimately, the nation, our development partners, and every individual resident in Ghana will be the beneficiaries of a highly successful 2010 Population and Housing Census.

OCTOPUS PAUL IS REAL!

IT appears God reveals many things to animals, birds in the air, fishes in water and other living things that go to marvel human beings. Among human beings only very few even hear the voice of God, and for that most of us go about making mistakes in life, not even knowing what we do.

Most humans enter into life without knowing our directions and go on committing mistakes which could be avoided if we listened carefully to the voice of the voiceless.

In the world of competitions, be they games or wars, men wished some kind of directions would be given before even the commencement of the fray. In the Book of Samuel, it is stated several times how God directed the ordained Seer Samuel to take measures to warn the Israelites when there came any conflict between two enemies, and they had to resort to war.

In modern times where football and other games are meant to entertain audiences, the seers might not be available to tell what would be the result, and that is why certain so-called prophets take advantage to dupe the little minds and collect their pay for that.

The recent case of Octopus Paul makes an interesting reading. Right in Germany, the Octopus has done many wonders, predicting which country would win or lose during the 2010 World Cup tournament in South Africa. The Octopus within the last month done some wonderful predictions and scored 100% marks that at the end of the World Cup, he has been given a replica of the World Cup as a reward for a good work.

The Octopus with psychic powers turned into a worldwide celebrity for what he did, and even though he is of German origin, found in German waters, it was able to predict accurately the loss of Germany to Spain during their semi-final crash. He even went further to predict that Spain would beat Netherlands and claim the World Cup for the first time.

One thing scientists have failed to detect its occurrence is the earthquake, but animals and birds have that intuition to detect them by their nature. About 30 years ago, there was an earthquake in the city of Scopia in Yugoslavia.

According to reports, the event was detected by animals and birds in a zoo in the centre of the city which was used to entertain tourists. Exactly one hour before the earthquake, the animals and birds started crying and disturbing the peace of the people around. The monkeys, the hyenas, the lions kept crying and thumping the ground to alert the tourists of what was ahead, but no one could fathom what was going to happen.

Just about three minutes before the earthquake, the animals and birds kept mute and found some corners to hide. And like the command of a referee’s whistle, a highly powerful quake happened, and all the big hotels crumbled to the ground, killing thousands of people. The people of Scopia recalled the incident with regret for not hearing the voice of the animals and the birds, and possibly saving human lives.

The Bible is full of such incidents where horses could see angels men could not see. It is no wonder that Octopus Paul has been given that intuition to tell by some strange method how the results of the tournament would go, up to the very grand finale. Scientists will certainly not rest on the issue, and might go ahead to find out how the Octopus could see what men with scientific knowledge could not see. Octopus Paul is indeed real, and it must go down as one of the wonders of the world.

BLACK STARS – AFRICA’S SALVATION!

At long last, just as we decided to make a U-turn and return to the vendors’ table, it has coincided with the final stages of the fantastic 2010 World Cup hosted in Africa, and South Africa to be precise.

And whether Africa will survive a crucial operation and be blessed in this hour of destiny has fallen on the lap of the Black Stars of this wonderful Coast of Gold.
All the six representatives of Africa could not survive at the Group level, with the exception of the Black Stars. – Glory be!!

The Indomitable Lions of Cameroun hit the rock and collapsed with three defeats, Algeria lost twice and drew once, Nigeria lost twice and drew one, South Africa lost one, drew once and lost one, and Cote d’Ivoire could not survive with one draw, one loss and one win.

And as destiny might have it, our blessed Coast of Gold had a chequered progress, winning once, drawing once and losing once and entered the one-sixteenth stage to beat the United States of America to raise the banner of Africa.

It is the sterling quality of the Black Stars performance that has shot them to the quarter-finals as a lone ranger of the continent. Now it is the Black Heroes of Africa against Uruguay at the Nelson Mandela Bay tomorrow, and the whole world is watching with keen interest, knowing that it was with fasting and prayers that has made it all possible up to this level.

At the quarter-finals are three European countries, four from South America, and one from Africa. The three Asian contestants who started with promise are all gone.

To God be the glory that the twinkle-twinkle little Stars have reached where they are now, and as we commit the Black Stars into the hands of the Almighty, so do we bestow the life of NUGS onto the care of the Heavenly King, as it makes a fresh return to its beloved readers.
Yes, we have come back in the Redeemer’s name to seek the face of the Gracious Power, and with His glory we shall have an everlasting blessing. God bless our readers; God bless NUGS.

GOD BLESS ALL PAST WINNERS OF THE WORLD CUP

THE FIFA World Cup has done all that is humanly possible to unite mankind. All hidden peoples all over the world have been made to become one family under the banner of football. The game has brought numerous benefits to the world.
The governing body of the world football has data on all affiliate countries numbering over 280, and all are given equal opportunity to be at the finals to enjoy all the available facilities. All continents on earth are empowered and given slots to be there.

Africa has five, South America has five, Asia has three, the Oceanic has two, the Americas have three and Europe has 14. In the recent 19th edition staged in South Africa, FIFA allowed Africa to be represented by six countries because the continent was hosting it. That was a special dispensation granted Africa and it is a situation that might be one case in a thousand.

Africa with over 50 countries has to undergo their eliminations series sieving the teams twice before reaching the final five. Europe has its method of elimination, and for South America, the situation is more difficult, but in the final analysis the five would emerge.

This year’s World Cup which was dubbed “Africa World Cup” attracted the best in Africa, Asia, and Europe, and the competition could be classified as the toughest. Although only one African country could cross to the quarter-final, and that country was Ghana, all indications point to the fact that Europe was triumphant as they ended up having three among the best four, and that credit goes to Netherlands, Spain and Germany.

Knowing how difficult it is to win the tournament when it developed from 16 to 24 and now 32, it is regarded as a blessing to be the final winners. The competition which started in 1930 has seen 18 winners.

The first winner of the tournament which was organized in Uruguay was won by the home team in their capital Monte Vedio. The second in 1934 was won by Italy in their home capital, Rome. That was the first time an African country, Egypt, was invited to take part. The next cup final was held in France, and it was won again by Italy.

In 1950, Brazil organized the tournament, and in front of their home crowd, Uruguay won the cup, and four years later it was the turn of West Germany to win it in Switzerland. In 1958, Brazil rose from the blue to claim the title in Sweden, and that marked the rise of 17-year-old Pele who scored two goals in the final 5 – 2 victory over the home team.

Brazil’s formula worked in 1962 in Chile, and they repeated their magic, and in spite of their form guide, they had to surrender to England who won it in London in 1966. Brazil rose again in 1970 to claim the cup in Mexico.

Germany lived up to their desire to host and win in 1974, and the next tournament which went to Argentina, the Argentines hosted and won comfortably with the rise of legendary Deogo Maradona. Spain hosted the next tournament, and it was claimed by Italy; they beat West Germany 3 – 1 in the grand finale.

Mexico took up the mantle in 1986 and once again Argentina won it. West Germany organized the next tournament and won it at home. In 1994 USA hosted it and Brazil worked to the final and won it, beating Italy on penalties. In 1998, France hosted it and won the cup beating strong Brazil 3 – 0 in the final.

The next tournament was hosted by Japan and South Korea, and Brazil travelled there to win their fifth title. In 2006, when Ghana had their first opportunity to be at the World Cup in a united Germany, the title went to Italy. They beat France on penalties. It has been a tortuous journey, and it takes guts, good preparation and strong character to win the World Cup.

To a lot of believers, it is a great blessing to win the whole World Cup!

DO WE NEED A LOCAL COACH FOR BLACK STARS?

ANY COACH, be he foreign or local will be welcomed if he is qualified and ready for the job presently; but the argument seems to be the same as most soccer administrators on the continent believe that expatriate coaches are better than the local ones.

The reality on the ground is that, most people following the game of football in Africa have noticed that, foreign coaches seem to be more disciplined and serious in their activities than those on the continent when it comes to the national team job.


Fortunately for Ghana particularly, the nation won the Africa Cup of Nations for four times with local coaches, it is also real that since its inception in 1957, the Confederation of African Football (CAF) made it a law not to allow more than two professional players to feature at a time.

The Federation of International Football Association (FIFA) advised CAF to change the notion when the Black Stars won the continent’s football tournament for the fourth time in 1982 and played goalless with the Indomitable Lions of Cameroon in Libya. Then after the Cameroon team that qualified to Spain 1982 World Cup finished honorably with three drawn games against Poland, Peru and the eventual Champions, Italy, the whole system changed.

It was only normal that the inclusion of many professionals in the national squad may have influenced the selection, and the appointment of a national coach who should handle the national teams for various assignments needed the experience of expatriates.

And, looking at the invitation of players who have to join the national team coming from various European countries and elsewhere, soccer administrators decided to fall in love with expatriate coaches to handle the national team.

So many factors are put into consideration, such as facility of training grounds for the national team abroad, the release of professional players with the interpretation of FIFA Regulations and possibility of arguments put across by the Football Association in collaboration with the contracted coach.

Foreign coaches seem to be a bit ahead of their local counterparts as the game of football has a large coverage abroad than in Africa; they are easily abreast with new Rules and Regulations of the game of football including some logistics during camping such as diet, physiotherapy, condition for release, transfer of players and the time for a professional player to return to the mother club.

It is also normal that foreign coaches earn bigger remuneration due to the environment they are coming from and the condition of employment they used to work within, because most are also very sincere to our FA when it comes to resources given to them to monitor players abroad.

Every foreign coach is very particular about time in every exercise with the national team, and above all they are disciplined and do not allow their sentiments to overshadow their professional responsibilities.

The first thing for Africans to do, if we want a local coach to be in charge, is to make sure that he is well -trained, of course somewhere abroad for some years; he is disciplined enough while the country put up decent infrastructures to facilitate his job as he will be given a considerable salary to unable him do his work properly without interference, be he a former footballer or not.

The idea of the past administration of Osagyefo Dr. Nkrumah who sent a number of coaches and soccer administrators abroad to learn about the game of football became history because we are in a new era where national teams have a lot of well- paid professionals who are always invited to come and play for the nation.

The fact remains that, it is a tall order today to appoint local coaches to handle the Black Stars because of their pedigree we need more time for them, if we want to talk about the above - mentioned factors, unless they are well -trained and scrutinized by football governing body for the job the next five years.

A local coach will handle Brazil, France and other national teams abroad because of their environment. The development of football in those countries in terms of administration and coaching is not the same as we have in Africa, especially in Ghana where there are no facilities and high modern rated resource persons to initiate coaching courses.

Reaching the World Cup quarter-final stage was a combination of foreign-based players, who are under great coaching abroad in collaboration with a foreign coach who has also seen it all in his country, Serbia.

Africa still needs foreign coaches until we work hard to train those we feel are disciplined enough and have reached a level to do the job without favoritism whilst we also need a disciplined FA that will not interfere in their responsibilities.