CHAPTER 1
Oman is witnessing the farewell ceremony of its chief's youngest child, Nana Serwaa Berimah. The chief, his wife and all of the people of Oman had expected a male child, and a 5th girl child in his sickness and ageing was the worst gift from the gods. It spelled one thing – the end of the Berimah royalty. Worse, she was the 5th child and '5' is considered an unlucky number. Yet Chief Berimah hopes to defy the odds. Peradventure a woman may rule Oman. The words of the priest at the time of Nana Serwaa's birth rings in his ears:
I see a woman whose one leg is planted among people of our kind, and the other leg among that of a strange people in a faraway place.
The people and elders had sought to understand the meaning of what that saying might mean, but the Oracle spoke no more. He had said the much the gods had bade him. Off to his shrine he went, leaving a frustrated people anxious and perplexed.
* * *
Nana Berimah, chief of Oman and his wife had cared for their girl child. The gods, they believe, know better. They cannot be unfair, though men may often perceive them so when their expectations are cut short. Or rather seems. The gods see what men do not, know what men do not, and understand what men may never. All that may rightly be thought of the gods, but should they not speak in ways that ordinary men may comprehend? Should their speech or that of their messenger – the priest continually be in riddles making for confusion among the peoples? All these and more the great and aging man pondered as he lay in bed with his wife that night. He'd wished the gods visited him in a dream and informed his knowledge of small and great things to transpire in Oman in the years coming. He desired that at the least, the mercies of the gods would extend to his knowing of his successor.
In these days of hoar hairs and feeble knees, Nana Berimah knows that he must use his best of time and maneuverings to ensure his family continue as rulers of Oman. His four daughters and their husbands have only proven with his aging their gross incapability to rule the kingdom. Two of his daughters are married to men of foreign ethnicities and live away from Oman with their husbands. The other two husbands are a drunk and a rapist. And they have frequently been accused and guilty of extortion, while their wives have failed every test of their father. But Nana Berimah has grown too weak to take a serious action against them. Or perhaps, love for his daughters has clouded his judgement. His only hope is Nana Serwaa, in spite her sex and his ageing.
Off to Kumasi – the Royal Palace, Nana Serwaa Berimah must go. Perhaps she will become a wife of the to-be-crowned king of Ashanti. But to be the wife of any member of the royal family in Kumasi would be an honor, Nana Berimah had thought. So with his year old daughter he will attend the coronation of the new king of the Ashanti Kingdom, and present her duly.
* * *
The coronation of Ashanti's new king on March 26, 1888 marked a symbolic end of the civil war. Nana Serwaa Berimah was presented at the King Palace in Kumasi, the official residence of the Asantehene – king of the Ashanti Kingdom. Her father had believed against the traditional odds that his 5th child that failed to be a boy must have the strength of a male child – a somewhat greatness in her. Possibly the seer might have meant Kumasi, he reasoned. It may be a prosperous alliance may be forged between Oman and the throne in Kumasi because of her. But Otumfuo Nana Prempeh I requested that the child be cared for at home in Oman and returned in 15 years, when she had turned 16, the age of marriage for a royal Akan woman.
* * *
In the second year of his reign, Nana Prempeh I had his first major crisis on hand. An enemy force would be a better foe to plan for, a comparatively easy adversary against whom to find a solution. But Otumfuo and Ashanti are faced against the peril of nature. For several years the palm trees in the regions have been fast growing barren. And those were the years of the civil war. But now, there is peace and a king, yet there is scarcely pepper on any tree in the kingdom.
A strange pest has plagued every type of pepper in the region and spared not a single field or garden. The peoples are devastated. Meal is worthless without pepper for an Asante. Their best chance for pepper is Liberia, on the West African coastline.
But just how they get there pose a great challenge to Otumfuo and his council. This council is the emperor's council for strategy. It is made up of members of the elders' council, the cabinet, and the military advisory council. The council is challenged with devising the best route to Liberia. They consider distance, means of transportation, conditions such as weather, road and sea routes, and transporters, and more importantly the territories they must go through to the intended destination.
Pepper and palm trees are strangely barren the empire over. And while the priests and people look to the gods for answers and solutions, it is obligatory that Otumfuo and his council provide relief to these constraints the people are faced with. While the palm nut is a staple food for Asantes, the pepper spice goes with nearly every dish.
Two full days went by, with many hours spent deliberating possibilities to Liberia and back. On the third day and in the third and final meeting of the day, a youth in his early twenties stands up. He is a 5' 10", 171 pounder with Ashanti royal black complexion and thick black hair atypical of the ruling clan. It is past 4:00 PM and the sun is only just losing its intensity – the heat is somewhat felt in spite the cooling architecture of the palace. He had sat a couple hours without saying a word, and his voice is understandably heavy at the beginning. But just as he has proceeded from pleasantries or greetings, his voice becomes clearly adenoidal. Such a voice is common to the Ashanti royals.
His roundish-almond eyes scans the room almost as carefully as he speaks. Cautiously he dismisses the options of cameling and walking west-southward to Liberia; the chance of war with peripheral Mande ethnic groups such as the Gouro would be easily provoked. Gouro tribes were at wars with Baole and Krou tribes that are of kin to the Asantes. An over 1,000 troop going through the regions would imply nothing but Ashanti war against the Gouros. And against the unfriendly rains.
Cameling and walking south and then traveling by ship to the Republic of Liberia seems feasible. But just how? It will take negotiations for Ashanti troop and merchants to enter British controlled Cape Coast and arrange travel, or it may require the force of arms. Yaw Edusei vigilantly dispelled the notion that the British will hold no negotiations with Asante, that the only possibility was war. "It will strangulate the kingdom should they engage in a war any time soon" Yaw Edusei said in a fruity voice, and yet appealing gesture as he looked approvingly to Otumfuo. "Of what good will a well of gold be compared with an Ashanti life" he spoke, looking at faces in the room as though requiring an answer. That latter statement especially goes to council members that think it too expensive to pay out gold to the British, forgetting that war comes at the very cost of gold, and additional and more significantly, human life.
The expedition troop they drastically reduced and increased the merchants, as counter-proposed by Nana Yaw Edusei. In a week's time...
