Keta - Andy Kwawukume

Where the ravenous sea eats the land, the homes
And the graves of the ancestors.
Exiles have your sons and daughters become
Refugees to roam in strange lands
Haunted by the ancestral spirits no longer at rest.
What untold sins not atoned for did you commit?
Our tongues are weary from wailing.

But Keta, you were once a maiden fair.
Your sandy palmy beaches stretched far.
Your fair goods sought after by suitors near and far.
Agudayevuwo covet you,
and the road to damnation on which you were led,
as the spirits of the sea wreck vengeance in appeasement
must come to an end.

And so you shall rise again, Keta,
Like the Phoenix from the sea
And your grandsons and daughters shall regale in you.
And suitors near and far shall once again
seek your fair goods.
And the music and dance shall last to the wee hours,
as we forever celebrate your re-birth.


"Keta" is part four of our five-part series of poems on Keta. Our final installment will be posted next week.

Author Profile - Andy Kwawukume

Biography:

Andy Yao Kwawukume was born to Mr. and Mrs. Alfred and Constancia Kwawukume of Anloga, in Accra on 2 June, 1955. He attended Avete Primary and Middle Schools, Anloga, then Anlo Secondary School, Anloga, and Mawuli School, Ho. He took his university schooling at the University of Ghana, receiving a BA (Hons) in Political Science with Philosophy in 1980.

He taught in both Ghana and Nigeria before moving to Norway for further studies. He later worked in Bergen, Norway, before moving to London, where he now runs his own business.

Five Questions with Andy Kwawukume:

1. What inspired you to write "Keta"?

I was inspired to write the poem "Keta" because I know Keta and its (tragic) history and had actually written a poem on Keta before - in 1970 - just as others have done.


2. Who are your favourite poets? Do you have any favourite poems about Keta?

Years ago, R. Tagore and Wordsworth were my favourite poets. I think the poem "The Sea Eats the Land at Home" is my favourite and most influential on Keta.


3. Have you ever been to Keta? If so, when was your last visit?

I have been to Keta several times, and my last visit was in 2003.


4. What comes to your mind when you first think of Keta, or hear someone mention it?

The sea erosion and the destruction of the town are things which come to my mind about Keta.


5. Do you think it is possible for people to understand Keta without having personally visited?

No, I don't think even people who have been to Keta can understand Keta and what has happened to the town. It is incomprehensible and that is the allure about Keta. To learn that where the sea rages now, there was land, buildings, graves, palm plantations, names of places, white beaches, is simply beyond grasping!

Contact Andy:

cyandyk(at)tiscali.co.uk

Keta Stories - Prince Mensah

I remember meditating
on Mawu’s [i] handiworks;
I was a boy entranced, doting
over sands and old rocks,
over scenes of this lagoon
in radiance of full moon.

Oh, how these waves steal the land
from us. These beautiful waves,
thieves that defy defined lines
between ocean and earth.
Strange to see sea pass Mawu’s hand,
forcing us to become slaves
to campaigns to save land lines;
for Keta’s life or death.


Xevikpodzi, where the songs
of a thousand birds merge
amidst sounds of crashing waves:
Beauty for which my heart longs,
my mind enshrines the pledge
to save Keta from these waves.

Fort Prinzenstein and memories
of greedy merchants
wooing the land with cheap dowry,
feeding all their wants,
leeching a welcoming culture,
turning brother against brother;
these rapists caused rapture
of slavery and slaughter.

These are things Daada [ii] told me,
also things I shared with Mawunyega
as we ate aboloo [iii] with keta
school boys [iv]. School boys who loved
to know how this used to be;
we walked the shore with no fear of danger,
The lagoon is our friend; we enter
with respect, we are beloved.

We loved the truant trips to old town
where we remembered no more
six painful lashes meted out upon
our buttocks from Teacher Akator’s
kerosene-soaked cane
Mawunyega was smart, I was clown
so our humiliation bore
unending laughter from mates and deep scorn
from all disciplinarian-tutors
who thought we were vain.
Vain to glorify fetride [v],
akpele [vi] and stringing okro soup
in our essays for mid-term.
I wrote about food Daada made,
she always made the best light goat soup
that lingered all through the term.

Hogbetsotso-la. Tro-tro. Bone-shakers.
Face to face. The driver’s voice
contained halitosis emanating
from last-night’s tilapia dinner.
We wait for relatives who bring crackers,
news from Anloga. Rejoice,
local gossip, eagerly commenting
on the festival. Asaana, [vii]
as she pauses to sing ancient chants,
about frenzied girls, bouncing bosoms,
sweating dancers, the Agbadza; [viii]
hands in ninety degree posture,
swinging back and forth with frenzy.
Our eyes beamed with youthful interest.

Davio! Davio! Davio! [ix]
The old man shouted, ‘Megbona?!’ [x]
We were way into the sea,
no warning could stop us
We were trouble for Leo,
‘Megbona?!, ‘Megbona?! ‘Megbona?!
He could not understand why
the young wanted to die.


From the sea, we saw a crowd
deal with a fiafito: [xi]
They rained slaps and lashing
on his hapless self, kicking
his groin as he screamed, ‘Ao!
We had had images of owners
chasing thieves who jumped
into the arms of the sea for safety.

I reminisce my love affair with corn,
without her, I am forlorn.
Nyeblo [xii], the truth must be told;
the sea’s thievery is from of old.
I am too young to tell how it begun,
too old to forget how it stung
to lose precious pieces of Keta
as the forces of nature enter.

We have grown, we are now fully-matured men.
Life plays like a set of congas.
We live by fruits of the pen,
by experiencing, exploring
sources of present peace.
We loved choral songs of weary fishermen,
the hail of patient fish-mongers.
We were the little children
who stole fresh fish, disappearing
behind coconut trees.



[i] Ewe name for ‘God’
[ii] Ewe endearing word for ‘parent’
[iii] It is a baked corn cake
[iv] Smoked fish in the Volta Region
[v] Food made out of corn dough
[vi] Another variation of food made out of corn dough
[vii] Local drink made out of corn
[viii] Trademark Ewe dance
[ix] Ewe word for children
[x] Ewe word for ‘why?’
[xi] Ewe name for a thief
[xii] Ewe word for brother



"Keta Stories" is part three of our five-part series of poems on Keta. Further installments will be posted weekly throughout January.

Author Profile - Prince Mensah

Biography:

Prince Mensah was born in August 1977 to Dr. Louis and Rose Mensah. He attended Adisadel College, Extra Mural Academy, African-American HIV University(USA) and Mediation Training Institute(USA). He has written an extensive body of work including plays that have been staged at the Arts Center in Accra. "Beach" is from his soon to be released anthology, entitled, "Memoirs of A Son of Ghana".

Five Questions with Prince Mensah:

1. What inspired you to write "Keta Stories"?

I have always held a fascination for the Anlo & Ewe people. Kofi Awoonor and Kofi Anyidoho are literary inspirations. Some of my best friends are Ewe and I have enjoyed their culture through cultural practises and history. My maternal grandparents used to live in Hohoe and I traveled the Volta region quite a bit.

"Keta Stories" is actually born out my concern for the future of this historic town. I got the little stories from conversations I had had over the years with family friends from Keta. I realize the sea is ruthless in taking over and man is helpless in keeping what is his. This scenario presents the robbery of a tribe's history and dreams. The best action, maybe the weakest one at that, is to make Keta a fresh memory no one wants to forget about.


2. Have you ever been to Keta? If so, when was your last visit?

Once, but I was too young to grasp lasting memories. I, however, remember through subsequent visits to other parts of the Volta Region, how fondly people spoke about Keta. I transposed those experiences to that of a young boy in Keta to create the sense of nostalgia in the poem.


3. What comes to your mind when you first think of Keta, or hear someone mention it?

A fading history. Only God knows how much history has been erased by the sea. It is like having the Elmina or Cape Coast castles being taken away by the sea. If the Netherlands can reclaim land from the sea, I do not see why we cannot get help to fix this problem once and for all.


4. Do you think it is possible for people to understand Keta without having personally visited?

Yes and no. Beauty is partially appreciated in pictures and lectures but the experience of facing it face to face is phenomenal. To understand, you have to undertake a visit to this town. It will help the local economy as well.


5. "We had had images of owners / chasing thieves who jumped / into the arms of the sea for safety." This is such a powerful portion of the poem. Where did you derive this image from? Was it inspired by a real image you have heard of or experienced?

To the Ewe, the sea represents justice and sustenance. However, the sea robs Keta of land and is ready to shelter thieves from justice. Nature can be ambiguous in definition and this is an attempt to ignite that thought. I have had experiences where wrongdoers were sheltered by the law but the same law made the lives of the law-abiding citizens harsher than necessary. This is just my take on these themes. Every reader is welcome to reach their own conclusions.

Contact Prince:

Email: pryncemensah(at)yahoo.com
Website: http://www.freewebs.com/pryncemensah/

Prince's Past Profiles:

Issue 1.28, September 29th - October 5th, 2007
Issue 1.18, July 21st - 28th, 2007

Keta My Love - Kwofie Matthew

Strong winds coax you into the brook with love
caressing every hair and the flesh of your body
as though the world cares about your beauty
Monstrous waves spread their daring tentacles
around your devitalized shoulders with impunity
as though to offer the soothing comfort you desire
Boastful lazy rocks flood your coasts in queues
showing off their apparently sharp edges and cracks
as though to provide the indomitable defense you cleave

But where are those multitudes of wading birds:
the herons, storks, ibises, spoonbills, and flamingos
that used to surge your shores with news of your siesta
Where are those naughty bunch of school boys
who had always boisterously invaded your shores
with their intriguing compositions and inventions
Where are those adventurous old fishermen
who used to engage your corridors every Tuesday
with poetic melodies that stiffen their weakening nets
And where have those tall coconut trees gone
that your house looks so desolate and abandoned
as though never inhabited in centuries

Keta, Oh Keta my once adorable queen
Your children desert you with fear
Your servants denounce you in despair
Your armies surrender with haste
Your calm wails collapse unheard

I see specks of native islands in the distance
I hear the sounds of bold steps nearing
I hear sweet melodies of new beginnings
I feel cool breezes move over your horizons
And the masts of ships on your waters

Rejoice in the midst of your troubles
Keta, Oh Keta my love
Your true sons and daughters
Your servants and army
Are about to arrive



"Keta My Love" is part two of our five-part series of poems on Keta. Further installments will be posted weekly throughout January.

Author Profile - Kwofie Matthew

Biography:

Kwofie Matthew is a professional teacher, and a student of the University of Cape Coast. He enjoys creative writing and hopes to be a great author or journalist in the future.

Five Questions with Kwofie Matthew:

1. What inspired you to write "Keta, My Love"?

First of all, I guess I was inspired by your advertisement. Secondly, I think my usual desire to write about things I see and feel around me also contributed greatly.


2. Have you ever been to Keta? If so, when was your last visit?

No, I have never visited Keta, but I have heard and read so much about the prevalent situation. I have planned paying a visit though. It is just unfortunate; nature forcefully arresting and enslaving a very beautiful human settlement. I think the usual ‘wait and see’ attitude of the Ghanaian is manifested in what is happening at Keta; an early stitch could have saved a neigh. I also think we humans must learn to respect nature and to stay away from places nature considers uninhabitable.


3. What comes to your mind when you first think of Keta, or hear someone mention it?

I think of a once peaceful village now at war with nature.


4. Do you think it is possible for people to understand Keta without having personally visited?

Hmn! I will say yes and no with a lot of caution. Firstly, one can easily paint a mental picture of the state of affairs at Keta upon reading or hearing something about that place, but I doubt if one can really come to true terms with the actual situation on the ground without visiting the place.


5. What similarities can you draw between Keta and your home town of Elmina? What differences?

Can I really respond to this question into details without being biased? I know Elmina very well, but do not know Keta that well. I have read quiet a lot of articles about Keta but I still don’t think I know that town well enough to attempt to compare it with another town.

All I can say basically is that both towns are fishing communities and whereas Elmina is inhabited predominantly by Fantes, Keta is inhabited predominantly by Ewes. Also, Elmina has very calm shores and beaches which apparently is not the case at Keta.

Contact Kwofie:

nanakofi442(at)yahoo.com

Kofi's Past Profiles:

Issue 1.31, October 20th - 26th, 2007
Issue 1.23, August 25th-31st, 2007

Without Roots - Edith Faalong

through the journey i rode behind the jolting bus and reminisced.
soon...
soon...
and my heart smiled.
soon i would glimpse Keta,
the jewel of the ocean that sired me and many.

i could barely wait to see gleeful children in tattered clothes rush to
greet me,
mouths wide with grins of anticipation,
old arms of aunties around me.
to smell fish, baking in the sun, smoking on fires, sizzling deep in hot oil.
to stub my foot on forgotten fish bones in the sand.
to laugh with Enyonam about my adventures in the city.

but when i alighted from the bus,
i found rubble and stone buried beneath huge waves of water...
in the stead of our house.
where is our family house?
no one to greet me.
only a cradling fire in the distance and an echo of bewilderment in the
stillness of the night.

where went our land?
after the bare bottomed children have swam and played, to where will they
retire?
shall day and night be spent in the embrace of foreign soil?

where went our land?
the tide came and went.
when it was gone, so was our house and land,
sucked into the hungry, roaring belly of the sea.

i drop my bag and begin to walk.
to where?
i don't know.
where does a girl without roots go?



"Without Roots" is part one of our five-part series of poems on Keta. Further installments will be posted weekly throughout January.

Author Profile - Edith Faalong

Biography:

Edith N. Faalong was born on January 12th, 1986 to Mr. Joseph Y Faalong and Madame Hellen Tanye in the Upper West Region of Ghana. She currently lives in Accra, reading economics and geography as a third-year student at the University of Ghana.

Five Questions with Edith Faalong:

1. What inspired you to write "Without Roots"?

In writing "Without Roots", I was inspired by the plight of people who lost their homes to the encroaching sea and also by the late Kwesi Brew's "The Sea that Eats our Lands".


2. Have you ever been to Keta? If so, when was your last visit?

Yes, I visited Keta some five years back.


3. What comes to your mind when you first think of Keta, or hear someone mention it?

When I hear Keta mentioned, I think of a normal fishing town.


4. Do you think it is possible for people to understand Keta without having personally visited?

I think it is very possible for people to understand Keta without having personally visited it. That is why we write anyway...so people can understand and appreciate what they have not seen or been through.


5. Your previous poem featured on OGOV, "Sankofa," and this poem, both deal with the importance of history in our attempts to move forward - could you speak a little more on this theme, and how it connects with our theme of Keta?

I believe history is the people. It is the genesis, the basis. Without it, there is no people. It is our reference point to the future. From history, we carve our road to, and nature of, our destination.

With Keta, when we lose the land and homesteads, we lose history. And without origins and roots, we find lost, empty people. In effect, there cannot be a people without roots and origins.

Contact Edith:

edithfaalong(at)hotmail.com

Edith's Past Profiles:

Issue 1.26, September 15th - 21st, 2007