A PLAYWRIGHT’S JOURNEY: IN SEARCH OF A GHANAIAN

INDIGENOUS IDENTITY - THE WORKS OF EFUA SUTHERLAND AND

MARTIN OWUSU

ABSTRACT

The search for a true Ghanaian indigenous identity has been explored by many theatre scholars
within the remit of several Performing Arts disciplines. Indeed, Drama as a discipline is no
exception to this. However, in searching for a true Ghanaian indigenous identity, most playwrights
or dramatists conform to colonial definitions of who a Ghanaian should be. The influences of
western education, culture and language deprived writers to a large extent of the underlying
essence of who we really are as a people and stripped our innate self-worth to the core replacing
the values we hold dear as Africans with a superficial replica of their own values. This deliberate
effort of the colonialist, to a large extent succeeded in regressing our own way of life and existence.
A number of Ghanaian playwrights started a revolutionary idea to preserve our culture and replace
the foreign imposition with our own beliefs and traditions. This journey of discovery of who we
really are began with Kobina Sekyi’s The Blinkards written in 1915 and continued with Fiawoo’s
A fifth Landing Stage in 1935. In spite of these, it was not until the late 1950’s to mid-1960’s that
a renaissance of culture took place with the birth of modern Ghanaian drama. Efua Theodora
Sutherland born in 1924, began her journey to reorient and retool the Ghanaian mind soon after
Independence as part of a wider nationalist agenda spearheaded by Osagyefo Dr. Kwame
Nkrumah. Her quest to bring Ghanaian folklore to the front burner was groundbreaking and her
play The Marriage of Anansewaa has become the standard for the discussion, theorizing and
elevation of Anansesem to Anansegoro. Sutherland pioneered a new theatre form about the same
time other playwrights who studied under her tutelage such as Martin Owusu and Asiedu Yirenkyi
emerged. Both created styles and forms of their own whilst staying true to Sutherland’s pioneering
work and also benefitting from their rapport with the likes of Joe De Graft, Manwere Opoku and
J.H. Nketia. Owusu’s The Story Ananse Told and The Legend of Aku Sika go a little further in
discussing and showing our relationship with the supreme being within our storytelling traditions.
Owusu is conscious of ‘fate’ and creates illusions through his ‘moral tales’ and situational ironies
that stay true to traditional values As I delve into a number of plays written by these playwrights
and attempt to highlight the work they have done in bringing us closer to finding the true Ghanaian
indigenous identity, I deduce that the journey to find the true Ghanaian indigenous identity can
best be achieved through a collective collaboration of like-minded people who are prepared to
journey together in the hope of retracing our ancestral steps. Drama paves the way for us to do so
and this study enables us to understand better the missed steps and misplaced identity we now need
to shed whilst staying true to the famous adinkra symbol ‘Sankofa’ which means returning to your
roots.

Key words: Nationalism, Indigenous. Identity, Sankofa, Preservation, Anansesem.

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IN T RO D U CT IO N
Before Colonialism engulfed our part of the world, many communities had their own forms of

governance, their own social and interactive capabilities, their own military strategies and their

own forms of economic developmental goals. When the first Europeans, the Portuguese arrived in

Elmina, it was first and foremost to trade in new goods. They built a trading post South of the

Sahara in Elmina in 1482 which still stands as testament to the introduction of Trans- Atlantic

Commerce. The issue of who we were and where we came from took centre stage at the influx of

the Trans-Atlantic Slave trade in the seventeenth and eighteen centuries. The two-fold essence of

the trade was to provide strong cheap labour for European farms in the Caribbean and also to rid

the African continent of strong able men in order to pave way for the agenda of colonialism. Both

agenda were ruthlessly carried through by the Europeans especially the British until African

countries began agitating for Independence.

Ghana was the first country south of the Sahara to gain its Independence from British rule. The

search for our unique identity began in earnest at the tail end of the nineteenth century and the

beginning of the twentieth century. The Gold Coast Aborigines’ Rights Protection Society formed

in 1897 was made up of traditional rulers and societal elite who protested against the crown lands

bill of 1896 and lands bill of 1897. Their efforts set in motion a movement for self-governance

which would take another sixty years to achieve. When Kobina Esuman - Gwira Sekyi wrote the

play The Blinkards in 1915, it was to create a certain kind of awareness in our quest for a path to

nationhood. The play, a synthesis of language and social change draws our attention to the loss of

our distinctiveness and our craving for an identity foreign to us and perceived as superior to our

way of life. Awoonor Williams’ poem We have found a new land is apt in describing the loss of

our idiosyncratic way of life in favour of another. The poem reads:

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 …Standing at hell-gate you watch those who seek admission
Still the familiar faces that watched and gave you up
As the one who had let the side down,
"Come on, old boy, you cannot dress like that"
And tears well in my eyes for them
Those who want to be seen in the best company
Have abjured the magic of being themselves
And in the new land we have found
The water is drying from the towel
Our songs are dead and we sell them dead to the other side
Reaching for the Stars we stop at the house of the moon.
And pause to relearn the wisdom of our fathers. (Awoonor-Williams, 1979, p.31)
The metamorphosis of the African way of life is clearly the focus of Awoonor-Williams’ poem.

Indeed, he laments our choices and our desire to dump our indigenous identity. Sekyi (1974)

confronts this attitude and provides a nationalist approach to reversing our lost purpose and

championing a return to those values that gives us an identity in the first place.

I intend therefore, against this backdrop, to address in this research the context in which some

playwrights played a key role in bringing us back from the brink of cultural suicide and helping to

reverse the ill gains of an alien culture that subsided our way of life. Indeed, I will address how

they, through drama and theatre document our culture and way of life. This paper therefore

addresses copiously issues of indigenous identity based on the works of Efua Theodora Sutherland

(1924 – 1996) and Martin Okyere Owusu (1943 -) and seeks to tread the paths they took in trying

to achieve what may be termed ‘a Ghanaian indigenous identity’.

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G h an ai a n I n d i g en ou s Id e n t i t y

It is no mean feat to find an indigenous identity for a country that adopted the culture and language

of the colonialist after having been suppressed for over three hundred years. The lost traditions

and culture of who we are, may have been as a result of our inability bar some, to ward off the

intrusion of the colonialist and allow ourselves to be coaxed into believing that what they brought

with them across the Atlantic Ocean was the best. This oppressive nature brought Africans to a

place where we relinquished what had been bequeathed us from generation to generation. Before

Ghana and the Gold Coast, peoples who lived in these parts were ruled by their kings and lived in

non-demarcated communities struggling to gain dominance over others. Perhaps the most

dominant of these communities were the Asante who held on to their various customs and

traditions and opposed strongly any intrusion by the colonialist until 1901 when they were finally

subdued. Robert Rattray in his book Ashanti Law and Constitution spells out in the preface to the

book that:

Some six years ago, when a branch of Anthropological research was first
inaugurated in the Gold Coast Colony, I expected to give precedence to the
subjects which now form the contents of this, my final report. A knowledge
of Akan-Ashanti Law is of paramount importance to the local
Administration, engaged as it is in framing ' Native Jurisdiction Ordinances
', in schemes for the working of' Native Tribunals ', and in plans for ' Indirect
Rule '. (Rattray, 1929)
Rattray acknowledges that his work and that of the British Colonial government, relied heavily on

already existing laws of the Asante people even for the purpose of governance. This puts into

question, our reason for adopting British laws and their way of governing if they found what we

already had good enough to latch upon. The wholesale neglect of customs and traditions by many

communities may be responsible for the misconceptions of identity and the conscious effort of our

youth to think and act like those from Western nations. Our traditions and culture were deemed

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uncouth and barbaric, our clothes were not fit for our courts and our schools. Our language was

not relevant to a changing global order and our very existence, considered insignificant to control

wealth, power and opportunity. In effect, the African was declared a persona non grata in his own

land.

The search for a Ghanaian indigenous identity starts in our communities, hamlets and villages

dotted across the country. From the slave roots of Salaga to the Catholic church in Navrongo,

theatre was already reshaping society. The Asante engaged profusely in story telling which Rattray

documents in 1930 in his book Akan – Ashanti Folk Tales. The Gold Coast also had many forms

of theatre but they, more than most, were mainly western theatre forms. The Concert Party

traditions influenced by Teacher Yalley was also very popular in the early part of the twentieth

century. Africans such as Ephraim Amu, were composing African music using local instruments.

The courts of kings used ntentenben, fontomfrom and other local instruments for their festivals

and rituals. These were however not given any traction by the colonialist because they were aware

of the influences such traditional forms may have on the people they governed. Churches were

banned from using traditional instruments, schools could not engage in local theatrical forms and

festivals and rituals were confined to small communities or banned altogether.

H ow i s In d i g en ou s I d en t i t y f o rm u lat e d ?

It is important to define what is meant by indigenous identity. Roxane Paire mentions in Migrant

Theatre and The Aesthetics of Identity, that “the notion of identity has become vaguer, either

rendered in simplistic terms or opened to multiple interpretations. The ever-changing notion of

character in contemporary theatre represents a precious tool to analyse the multiple notions of

identity”. (2013, p.30)

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These multiple interpretations are based on a series of concepts that define a people, their culture,

their migration patterns and their consciousness. Paire (2013) goes on to say “The world is filled

with terms like ‘national identity’, ‘cultural identity’ and ‘political identity’; all pointing to a

collective dimension, while the word identity still refers to a notion of uniqueness”. (30)

The importance of indigenous identity in theatre does not limit itself to the textual gratification of

the drama or the performance but it also strips bare the rather exceptional and remarkable journey

of life and the awareness of a collective mandate that enables society to function in the manner

that it does. If the definition of the word ‘identity’ according to the Cambridge Online Dictionary,

is anything to go by, then the definition, “who a person is, or the qualities of a person or group that

make them different from others” is played out in many theatrical performances.

Based on the above assertions, it is possible therefore to deduce that a Ghanaian indigenous identity

in Drama refers to drama that defines who we are, our qualities and our distinctiveness. Who we

are, is a collective fusion of several interventions experienced from our early development as a

people, our journeys and our settlements. Our identity is created by unique representations of our

existence through rites of passage, belief systems, dominance factors, oral traditions, rituals and

language development. Thus for playwrights, the journey to retrace ancestral steps, define modern

practices and predict future happenings relies on the playwright’s ability to navigate these essential

paths to create a work of art that point us in the direction of our indigenous Identity.

For most playwrights, finding the right balance is in itself a revolutionary process. The need for a

creative revolution begins when the idea to create an indigenous identity is formulated. In Adolfo

Gilly’s introduction to Franz Fanon’s book A Dying Colonialism, he writes;

Revolution is mankind's way of life today. This is the age of revolution; the
"age of indifference" is gone forever. But the latter age paved the way for

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 today; for the great masses of mankind, while still suffering the greatest
oppression and the greatest affronts to their dignity as human beings. never
ceased to resist, to fight as well as they could, to live in combat. The
combatant dignity of humanity was maintained in an unbreakable though not
always visible line, in the depths of the life of the masses and in the
uninterrupted fight-slandered, attacked, but alive in the very center of history-
of little revolutionary vanguards bound to this profound human reality and to
its socialist future, and not to the apparent omnipotence of great systems.
(Fanon, 1965, p. 18)
What Gilly points out is clearly as a result of people’s search to retrace their roots and redefine

their heritage. Revolutions take place in many forms, some may be violent, others may be

intellectual and others still may be as a result of embarking on a journey of discovery. In Ghana, I

dare say, the latter is the case. Though, on the political front, Kwame Nkrumah and others fought

to gain political independence, Nkrumah also realised the need for a cultural revolution, an

awakening of lost cultural values and the search for who we are as a people. This revolution was

to prove even more difficult for the pioneers because many Ghanaians at independence, though

ready for political independence were not ready for a cultural revolution. How prophetic Kobina

Sekyi’s The Blinkards is;

Mr. OK: I have something more to add. The eminent estimable and learned
reader of the treatise, has not said the most important saying. Without
Europeans, there would be no churches, and without churches, we could not
be married: there would be no weddings. Without weddings, we would not
get the chance to speechify in public. Last, but by no means least, without
Europeans, there will be no lorries, and only lorry weddings are grand.
(Sekyi, 1974, p.107-108)
The taste for everything European which had engulfed the elite and semi –elite in Gold Coast made

it impossible then to take the Sankofa concept and retrace our roots. The taste of cheap European

wine, clothes, sugar and tea drove many to walk hook, line, sinker into a quagmire of false identity

which still persists in twenty-first century Africa. Though Nkrumah knew that he had to re-align

the perception of the African, he was aware that only one discipline had the capability and reach

to re-shape the crouched mentality of Ghanaians and for that matter Africans – theatre. According

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to Ama Biney in a thesis presented to the School of Oriental and African Studies titled Kwame

Nkrumah: An Intellectual Biography,

Nkrumah considered the psychologically pernicious aspect of colonialism

and imperialism to be its dehumanization of African culture and the
personality of the African alongside its economic exploitation of African
people. Hence, Nkrumah*s antidote was the promotion and restoration of
African humanity and indigenous forms of cultural expression in his ambition
to create a new Africa and new African. Nkrumah pursued his promotion of
culture via both “non-statutory cultural policies” and “statutory policies.”
Material culture was for Nkrumah reflected in African dress. On a personal
level, he wore both the Northern style dress, the traditional Kente cloth of the
Ashanti chiefs and the “political suit” to reflect African culture and his
political values. (Biney, 2007, 211)
Nkrumah’s vision was to reorient the Ghanaian way of life using theatre as his tool. What Kobina

Sekyi, Kwesi Fiawo and Joseph Danquah and Ephraim Amu tried in the early to middle twentieth

century was about to come full circle with the introduction to the scene of Efua Theodora

Sutherland.

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IN S E AR CH O F LO S T TR E AS U R E – E FU A T H E O D O R A S U TH E RL AN D

( 192 4 – 1 99 6)

For many reviewers, discussing Efua Sutherland is quite a daunting task. Her many facets create a

complexity that can only best be described as enigmatic. Her works, speak volumes of her pathway

as an African woman and a nationalist who was not afraid to explore the depths of tradition. She

is undoubtedly Ghana’s most revered female playwright, one who set in motion a creative

revolution that still continues today. In a tribute to her by Kofi Anyidoho which appeared in the

African Quarterly Journal, he writes;

The African world lost one of its most remarkable daughters of the 20th
century: Dr. Efua Theodora Sutherland. 'Auntie Efua' is best known for her
pioneering work as a cultural visionary and activist, her impact on society at
once comprehensive and enduring. Teacher, research scholar, poet, dramatist,
and social worker, she devoted her life to the building of models of excellence
in culture and education, and to the training of young people who would carry
her vision into the far future. (Anyidoho, 1996, p.5)

Anyidoho’s description is appropriate and remarkably so, for not only was she revered as the

mother of the modern Ghanaian theatre movement but as one who paved the way for numerous

literary greats to champion the course of finding the Ghanaian identity and culture.

Sutherland was born on June 27, 1924. At the time of her birth Gold Coast was experiencing an

industrial renaissance under the then British Governor, Gordon Guggisberg. The introduction of

schools, hospitals and railway lines made it possible for education, health and travel for the

people of Gold Coast to experience other parts of the country hitherto hidden from them. It is

significant to note that at the time of her birth the nationalist movement was already in full force

and she may have experienced this to some extent growing up. Her upbringing was certainly not

easy as she lost her mother when she was only five months old. Significantly, Efua Sutherland

9
went to St, Monica’s Teacher Training College in Asante Mampong where she trained under the

Anglican sisters as a teacher. It is possible that Efua began to harness her cultural and theatrical

prowess whilst she was in Asante Mampong first as a student and then as a teacher. Efua spent

three years in the United Kingdom studying English, Drama and Linguistics and returned to Gold

Coast in 1950 to continue teaching in Fijai then later Achimota Secondary School. The decade

of the 1950’s saw heightened agitations and protests. Kwame Nkrumah became Leader of

Government business in 1951 after an election that year which saw the Convention People’s

party win about 90 percent of the seats in the Legislative Assembly. In 1954, the CPP won again

and on 6th March 1957, Nkrumah declared the Gold Coast an independent country under the new

name Ghana. By this time, Efua Sutherland was knee deep in the struggle for a cultural

renaissance. Her actions from this point onwards show her resolve to create an identity lost to

many Ghanaians due to colonialism. She no doubt intended to erode the gains of colonialism and

create a new cultural thinking that could best be described as Ghanaian. Anyidoho writes;

Efua Sutherland's reputation as the founder and mother figure behind the
national theatre movement may best be measured by the many key
institutions and programmes she was instrumental in bringing into being. She
was the prime mover in the founding of the Ghana Society of Writers (1957).
A year later, the Ghana Experimental Theatre Company was launched under
her direction. She helped to found the Okyeame literary magazine in 1961.
Through her pioneering research into Ghanaian oral traditions, she introduced
onto the stage the unique dramatic form of Anansegoro, deriving its creative
model from traditional story-telling drama. (Anyidoho, 1996, p.6)

Sutherland’s work was not lost on Kwame Nkrumah. He found in Sutherland an ally he could

entrust his cultural revolution to. Botwe Asamoah (2005) suggests in his book Kwame Nkrumah’s

Politico-Cultural Thought and Policies that “Nkrumah saw the need for education and

entertainment, desiring that a network of theaters be established throughout the country for

renascence of the arts in Africa. As a consequence, he became interested in Efua Sutherland’s work

10
at the Drama Studio, visiting there when work was underway. And when he became the Head of

State, Nkrumah continued to utilize cultural activities to further his political aims” (32). All

indications are that Sutherland had a mind of her own and her ideas fell in line with what Nkrumah

also envisioned. Her focus remained intact in spite of the socialist tendencies exhibited by the

Nkrumah Government. Even in designing her theatre space, she drew her inspiration from

traditional story telling forms and designed her experimental theatre to suit the open compound

house setting made famous by the Akans.

In examining Sutherland’s journey in finding ‘the Ghanaian indigenous identity’, I have chosen

two of her plays, The Marriage of Anansewa (1975) and Edufa (1967) an adaptation of the Greek

Play Alcestis for an analysis on how she retraces our roots as a people and ends up with her version

of a true reflection of who we are. As a pioneer of the post-colonial cultural revolution, Sutherland

created for herself a unique brand of an African woman poised to change her world. Her exposure

to the British way of life stirred her on in more ways than most to ensure that what we had rejected

and lost was returned. The lost treasures of Ghanaian culture embedded in our way of life, our folk

tales, our language, our people and our mannerisms had to be reclaimed. Evans Asante and Johnson

Edu in a paper published in the International Journal of Advanced Research and Development

further discuss the method of reclaiming through a process of decolonising. They write;

On the basis of this, the second generation of playwrights that emerged in

post-colonial Africa came to the realization to decolonize their societies
through the theatre by searching for alternative indigenous structures and
dramatic forms. Gilbert and Tompkins reiterate the fact that “post
colonialism’s agenda is to dismantle the hegemonic boundaries and the
determinants that create an unequal relation of power based on binary
oppositions such as us and them, first world and third world, white and black,
colonizer and colonized” (Asante & Adu, 2018, p.349)

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Sutherland’s means of decolonising was through the use of theatre. She found in theatre an escape

route, a means to put an end to the many years of colonial dominance.

 Th e M a rri a ge o f An an s ew aa ( 1 97 5)

The original version of this play was an improvised exercise performed in Akropong in 1959. The

play sought to explain Sutherland’s findings on Anansegoro which she derived from the Akan

storytelling tradition Anansesem. Sutherland found that most Akan communities already had a

unique storytelling tradition that had been passed on for centuries. The Marriage of Anansewaa

tells the story of a plan devised by Kwaku Ananse to marry off his daughter Anansewaa to the

highest bidder. His choice of four chiefs, wealthy enough to look after his family through the

marriage and his eventual selection through deceit of one of them is typical of most Ananse stories.

Ananse stories are based on folktales handed down from generation to generation and it was

Sutherland, who began the process of documenting for performance purposes, folktales as her way

of preserving indigenous identity.

In d i g en ou s Id en t i t y i n Th e M a rri ag e o f A n an s ew aa

In order to fully address Sutherland’s search for our indigenous identity, I will discuss three major

areas where she highlights our identity in her play The Marriage of Anansewaa. These are;

1. Traditional leadership practices

2. Cultural Practices

3. Language

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 1 . T rad i t i on a l Le ad e rsh i p

Traditional leadership has been a part of our indigenous identity for centuries. Before the arrival

of the Europeans, communities were led by chiefs and priests who governed their people and

expanded their territory. Traditional rulers are the custodians of the customs and traditions of the

people. All cultural practices are vested in them. The arrival of the Europeans brought challenges

for the institution of chieftaincy. Most of them lost their power, wealth and respect. Many stools

that represented chiefs were either taken, destroyed or desecrated. The struggle for supremacy

between traditional authorities and the Europeans brought about wars and incursions into

territories controlled by each other. At the turn of independence, most traditional leaders had been

weakened and control ceded to a central government. That has not changed though some have

managed to restore to some degree the power and wealth they lost. Sutherland’s portrayal of four

chiefs in the play is testament to her reverence for the status of the institution of chieftaincy.

Reverence for chiefs in the indigenous society is still as important as the birth of a new born. She

portrays the four, Chief of Sapa, Togbe Klu IV, Chief-who-is-Chief and Chief of the Mines as self-

sufficient, wealthy men whose status in society cannot be compared. Sutherland uses appellations

and traditional songs to honour these men. Ananse instructs his daughter, Anansewaa, to write to

these chiefs on his behalf. To the Chief of Sapa, he writes:

O Mighty-Tree-of-Ancient-Origin!
Mighty-Tree-of-Ancient-Origin,
Rooted in the shrine of deity!
Countless branches in which Benighted
wandering birds are welcome to shelter (Act One, p. 6)

To Togbe Klu IV, Ananse writes

Prickly- Pear!
Cactus keeping guard

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 On your territory’s border,
To your left your territory,
To your right the sea;
Tough and vigilant one,
Thanks to your prickles
The enemy bleeds,
Thanks to your capacious leaves,
Those whom you love
Will always find within them
Water to refresh them. (p.7)

In many communities, the chief’s wife, is respected and that respects transcends to her family as

well. Ananse not only seeks wealth but also status for himself and his family. For his daughter to

marry a chief means that he can sit at the table of dignified men. Sutherland’s portrayal of these

chiefs in her play is also a reminder of what many Ghanaians neglected in favour of a western

form of governance. Throughout the play, she makes reference to these four chiefs as they try to

woo Ananse and his daughter. They bring gifts to signify their wealth and even when Ananse

announces his daughter’s death as a ploy, they send messengers to commiserate with him. She

also highlights Anansewaa as an independent woman who is against what her father attempts to

do. In Tony Simoes Da Silva’s paper Myths, Traditions and Mothers of the Nation: Some thoughts

on Efua Sutherland’s Writing, he mentions that;

Sutherland is partly revisiting a Ghanaian cultural tradition, she is also very

consciously re-situating women within their indigenous society and tradition.
Moreover, she does this not so much against a colonial model of gender
relations, that is one in which women occupied “naturally” a position of
subservience to both the colonial and the African male, but by exploring
precisely the role of women within the setting of traditional African societies.
(Da Silva, 2005, p. 266)

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 2 . Cu lt u ra l P ract i c e s

Cultural practices are the indigenous practices that identify a people or a community. These

practices define the very existence of the people to whom they are bound to. Michael Frese (2015)

defines cultural practices as “shared perceptions of how people routinely behave in a culture

(similar terms used are intersubjective perceptions or descriptive norms) and values are shared

ideals of a culture”. Sutherland loads her play The Marriage of Anansewaa with several cultural

practices that promote the indigenous identity of Ghanaians.

S t o ryt e l l i n g / M b o gu o ( S on g s)

The play The Marriage of Anansewaa is based on a folktale derived from the storytelling traditions

of indigenous communities in Ghana. Long before theatre took hold in Ghana, storytelling was an

integral part of communities. Anansesem is derived from two words which are Ananse, meaning

spider and Nsem, which means stories; thus Anansesem means spider stories. These stories were

handed down from generation to generation and were told as moral lessons for the development

of the indigenes. Ananse as a character is central to most of these stories and his character, though

corrupt and deceptive in many instances also shows his wit and wisdom in many other stories.

Sutherland identifies the storytelling tradition as a major component of our indigenous identity and

creates a play to keep the form for posterity. The play is thus a representation of the performance

practice of storytelling found in communities throughout the country.

In the foreword to the play, Sutherland (1975) writes; “there is in Ghana a story-telling art called

Anansesem by Akan speaking people. The name, which literally means Ananse stories, is used

both for the body of stories told and for the story-telling performance itself. Although this story-

15
telling is usually a domestic activity, there are in existence some specialist groups who have given

it a full theatrical expression with established conventions”. Songs that normally accompany these

stories are referred to as Mboguo. Songs in storytelling are used to break the flow of the storyteller

or to introduce an aspect of the story either left out or that needs emphasis. In the play The

Marriage of Anansewaa Sutherland uses poetic lyrics to enhance the story. These are performed

by ‘the players’ and in some instances women characters.

Am I not Odum’s child?

Am I not Odum’s child?
Oh I hate the sun!
Abena e,
I’d rather be dead.
Oh, delicate one
Abena e,
Abena e,
I’d rather be dead.
I never did toil
Abena e,
Abena e,
I’d rather be dead.
Unseasoned one,
Abena e,
Abena e,
I’d rather be dead.
Oh pitiful one,
Abena e
Abena e
I’d rather be dead. (p.22)

Mboguo is also introduced to catch the attention of the audience who invariably participate in the

singing and dancing. In most cases, the moral of the story lies in the text of the songs. Sutherland

sometimes mimics her plot with a mini plot sang through the Mboguo to show the essence of

courtship before marriage. Austin O. Asagba writes in Storytelling as experimental drama: A

study of Efua Sutherland's The Marriage of Anansewa;

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 Another strength of The Marriage of Anansewa lies in Sutherland's effective
recreation of traditional elements of theatre such as "praise names", riddles
and anecdotes. These elements, apart from their entertainment function, have
also been used as elements of moral instruction and emphasis; some examples
will suffice. The story of Akwasi and Akosua, two infatuated lovers, serves
the moral purpose of the "head-drink" (an important token by which the
marriage is legally established). After receiving various gifts from Akwasi,
Akosua decides to run away from her lover. After a fruitless attempt by
Akwasi to get hold of her, he threatens to solicit the help of her parents.
(Asagba, 1989, p.43)

Akwesi: I will not let you go.

I will not let you go.
You cannot spend my dough
And treat me so.
Akosua: You funny man,
Don’t you know you are?
I’m not your wife?
Am I your wife?
Akwesi: Don’t you know you are!
Akosua: What law says that? (p.17)

T rad i t i on a l M a rri ag e

The play looks at marriage in the traditional way. To be married, a young woman would have to

go through puberty rites which ushers her into adulthood. The play indicates that Ananse is rushing

his daughter’s marriage for the wrong reasons and when Anansewaa protests, her views are set

aside by her father. Once Ananse has set his eyes on ensuring his daughter is married off to the

highest bidder, he sets his plan in motion to ensure it happens. Traditional marriages in Ghana do

not frown on polygamy and his choice of suitors for his daughter, chiefs, are in many instances the

ones who are entitled through tradition to have more than one wife. So, Anansewaa was certainly

going to be in a polygamous marriage and Ananse was alright with that.

Ananse: Certainly, I covered miles. I travelled the country by bus, by train,

by ferry boat. I lobbied for introduction into palace after palace. I listened
with ears alert. I observed with keen eyes. I assessed everything before I
selected the four chiefs to whom I could show your photographs with
advantage.
Anansewaa: But why on earth four?

17
 Ananse: oh, let’s say they cover North, South, East and West.
Anansewaa: How exasperating! Oh, my father is selling me, he is selling me
My father is selling me,
Alas, alas!
Whoever thought he would?
Alas, alas!
But let me tell you bluntly,
I’ll never comply
I will not let you sell me
Like some parcel to a customer
Not ever!
Not ever!
Not ever!
Not ever!
Ananse: My daughter is a child. (p. 11)

In Ghana, traditional marriages are perhaps the most important marriage ceremonies, weddings

are an imported phenomenon so for most people, you are not married if you have not gone through

the traditional marriage rites. Sutherland highlights the need for gifts to be presented in the

traditional marriage and a dowry paid for the bride. Ananse knows that to maximize this, he must

create the best opportunity to receive the best gifts. His whole plan is to gain wealth on the back

of his daughter’s marriage.

Ananse: My daughter, it isn’t well with the home, therefore sit down, open
up the machine I bought for your training, and let the tips of your fingers
give some service from the training for which I am paying. I have very
urgent letters to write.

Anansewaa: Just when I was going out?

Ananse: Daughter mine, it’s your future I am thinking about, so put the
machine down and get ready to help me. Take paper, get set, While I reflect,
get set, While I collect my thoughts together. I am stirring up all the brains
in my head. Take paper, while I cogitate. (p.4,5)

18
Pu b e rt y Ri t e s

Women in the Ghanaian society must go through puberty rites once they get adolescence. The

essence of these rites is to outdoor the young women and introduce them to the community as

they transition from children to women. Sutherland is aware that traditional marriages in typical

indigenous societies cannot take place unless the young lady has been certified by the older

women in the community as having gone through the puberty rites. In Akan, puberty rites are

known as Bragro. Sutherland brings this to bear when Aya, Anansewaa’s grandmother questions

Ananse’s wisdom in rushing to have these rites performed for his daughter. She says:

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

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

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

Aya: I am saying that I can’t see why Kweku is doing this at all. If the time
for doing something passes by, it has passed by.

Ekuwa: Ah, Aya. I’ve been trying very hard to explain it to you. If this
grandchild of yours is going to marry a chief, then it is our duty to prepare
her in every way we can for the position she will be occupying in the
palace. (p.35)

The fact that Ananse had refused five years earlier to have the ceremony done was an indication

that he felt it was not necessary at that time. Indeed, his realisation that traditions are not just

dumped because one feels a certain way about those traditions is perhaps the reason why

Sutherland brings him to the point of rescinding his earlier decision not to have his daughter out

doored like all the other young ladies.

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E xt en d ed Fa m i ly S y st e m

Sutherland also shows the Ghanaian extended family system in her play. In Ghanaian tradition,

the extended family plays an important role in community development. Children are communally

taught by the family and can be disciplined by any member of that family. A child born to a family

becomes the child of the extended family and anything that happens to the child at that point or in

future is as a result of the whole family’s involvement in the upbringing of the child. Ananse’s

family is no different. Anansewaa’s marriage is not only Ananse’s affair, it is the affair of the

entire extended family made u of Aya, Ananse’s mother, Ekuwa. Ananse’s Aunt and several

community folks who come together to ensure Anansewaa is well looked after.

3 . Lan gu a ge

The third area where Sutherland delves into indigenous identity is in the area of Language. The

Marriage of Anansewaa is dotted with transliterations and translations. Sutherland writes as if she

is directly translating from the local language. Most storytelling sessions are told in the local

language of the people. In order to come close to perfecting what they are saying, a writer must

find innovative ways of translating the language to the closest possible meaning. English as a

means of writing may not do justice enough to the intent of the folktale if left on its own. Sutherland

ensures that she sticks as close as possible to the original meaning though she writes in English.

For instance, she opens the play with a popular song.

Oh, life is a struggle

Oh life is a pain
Oh life is a struggle
Oh life is a pain
In this world. (p. 1)

20
This song is from a popular folk tune which puts together Akan aphorisms ‘Obra yɛ ko’, ‘Obra

yɛ yaw’. Other places where we see Sutherland use direct transliterations can be found in Aya’s

words. For instance, Aya says “You school people say you have thrown these things aside” This

in local language is “Mo, sukuu fuo se mo’ato saa nyoma no atwene” This proves that Aya is not

educated and cannot be made to speak impeccable English. The same may be said for Ekuwa,

Ananse’s Aunt. Ananse himself mixes perfect English with localized English.

Ananse: [Calling Property man] Man, I need a headache pill. Don’t you

have any sympathy on a man struck by an earthquake of a headache? (p. 34)

‘Headache pill’ can literally be translated into ‘atipayɛ duro’. In order to understand what

Sutherland is addressing fully, it is important to lay bare what folktales are all about. Ghanaian

folktales are centuries old stories handed down from generation to generation. These are of moral

value to the communities where they originate from and serve as reminders of our culture and

indigenous belief systems. Without these folk tales, a good number of cultural practices may have

been lost forever. It is based on this inherent disability in documenting our stories that draws

Sutherland to create new ways to preserve our indigenous identity for posterity. In Sutherland’s

next play I shall look at, we will find stark differences in her preservation journey. Edufa was

published in 1967 a few years after The Marriage of Anansewaa was performed. Sutherland’s

approach to indigenous identity is different. Her path as a playwright shows her versatility and her

attempt to highlight certain basic similarities between Africans and Ancient Greece.

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  Ed u f a ( 19 67)

In an attempt to preserve his life and wealth, Edufa visits a diviner to seek a charm that will enable

him to live and enjoy his wealth. However, he is given four years to live unless he can find someone

who loves him unconditionally and who is willing to sacrifice their own life for his. Edufa severally

asks his Dad if he loves him but he can’t get his Dad to show him love unconditionally. He

however, finds in Ampoma his wife, a woman whose love is unconditional and one who professes

to take Edufa’s place if need be. This pronouncement seals Ampoma’s fate and she falls ill. Though

Edufa tries to find a solution to Ampoma’s illness, he knows that everything he does is in vain.

Sutherland addresses one very important issue that showcases our indigenous identity in the play

Edufa. In it she deals with spiritism, divination and the concept of necromancy.

S p i ri t i s m, D i vi n at i on a n d t h e Co n c ep t of Ne c ro m an c y

Sutherland opens up a deep rooted area of Ghanaian indigenous belief system where the spirit

world interferes to a large extent in our everyday lives. For centuries, before the arrival of

Europeans and Christianity, the Ghanaian in the various communities looked to the stars and nature

for direction and for protection. Trees, large stones, water and even the stars all formed the fulcrum

for which we believed in a Supreme being, the overall ruler of all that we were and would be.

Sutherland brings to our understanding the reasons why we cannot separate ourselves from the

deeper knowledge of where we come from and where we are going. She fuses our determination

to belong to a certain class grouping with our dogged determination to do whatever it takes to be

accepted by society. Though the play is an adaptation of the Greek classic Alcestis, Edufa is a true

Ghanaian classic as it addresses the core interpretations of our quest for societal acceptance.

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From the very beginning of the play, we are assured of an uneasy journey. Our cosmic relationship

as a people is defined through Abena, Edufa’s Sister. In the paper Mythical Approach to Modern

African Drama: A Study of Sutherland’s Edufa by Obiora Eke and Aloy Nnamdi Obika, they write;

Within the traditional context, Edufa belongs to a society that is controlled

by superstitious beliefs, a society full of medicine men who act as mediators
between the gods and men, and one of them tells Edufa, before the beginning
of the play, that he can prolong his life; that his death can be avoided through
substitution. In other words, someone else can be used as a substitute for his
death; a beloved one can be brought to die in his place. This can be done by
asking or luring one to accept death, and for the one who is supposed to die
offering some sort of sacrifice, can be said to be commensurate with the
gravity of the offense as well as the social status quo of the individual
affected. (Eke & Obika, 2015, p. 143)

Pu ri fi ca t i on

As part of our everyday lives, we purify our communities regularly. The purification process

differs from community to community. In some Akan communities, purification is done through

the pouring of libation to the gods and the ancestors. In some, purification occurs when food is

sprinkled to the gods. In as much as this is done, the presence of the spirit realm in our daily lives

is evident. From the birth of a child to the death of a family members, our rites of passage are

defined by the presence of the spirit world who dwell in the affairs of men. Sutherland is conscious

of this and portrays this in the opening scene.

Abena: The last drop of dew has fallen. There’s enough dew water in the
pot. And here is stream water from the very eye of the spring where the red
rock weeps without ceasing. My brother Edufa, your orders are done,
though I obey without understanding… (p.98)
Edufa: Pour first the dew water, and then the stream water, over the herbs
in the bathroom. Quickly, then bring out the fire for the incense. (p.99)

In collecting dew water for three days, Abena shows the process she goes through in order to get

what is needed for the purification. In this instance, Edufa and his wife Ampoma are about to take

23
a bath together as part of the cleansing. When the play opens, Ampoma is poorly and Edufa is

doing all in his power to save her. The daily cleansing is part of the process.

Edufa: …Put the fire down. Keep the incense burning while Ampoma and I
bathe in the herbs.
Seguwa: It seems to me that the time has come now to seek some other
help. All this bathing in herbs and incense burning; I don’t see it bringing
much relief to your wife Ampoma in there. (p.101)

The indigenous way of life places the Supreme being at the apex of all spirits and it is to him all is

due and all is given. However, there are several routes to get his attention and though some of

these routes may be evil, it is assumed that he allows it to happen. Indeed, cleansing is the first

step to acceptance and Sutherland ensures that in order for this play to be seen as one that portrays

the true essence of the indigenous spiritual identity, she begins with the cleansing, in this case of

Ampoma and Edufa’s body. According to Shelter Sey in her thesis Theatre and Cultural

Development: A Focus on Efua T. Sutherland’s Edufa and Zulu Sofola’s Wedlock of the Gods, she

intimates that “the cleansing rite is an age old cultural practice among many African societies

especially in Ghana. It is a rite used to drive away alien and evil spirits from the community. It is

also meant to avert any ill omen within households and the community at large”. (p.73) Sey also

acknowledges that “the cleansing rite performed in the play is for a dead soul. In other words, it is

performed upon the death of a member of the community. Also, it could be gathered that the

performers of this rite use the opportunity to go round and drive evil spirit out of town. It could

also be realized that the cleansing rite is also a form of mourning; where the deceased is mourned

alongside the souls of other departed friends”. (p.75)

Ac ce p t an ce

In any situation where purification takes place, there must also be ownership of the situation and

acceptance of the consequences. This is perhaps the most difficult part of Spiritism, the part where

24
you must accept that you may not survive but yet you are at peace with yourself. In Ghana, those

who are at the point of death or in some cases in a helpless situation bring in the traditional priest

who after the purification will lead then through the process of accepting the consequences. They

are also given the opportunity to say what is on their heart or what they want to happen after they

have been absorbed by the spirits. Sutherland chooses to bring Ampoma’s situation early and her

acceptance of death is a clear indication of her readiness to move on into another world.

Ampoma: …My bed is so full of a river of my own tears, I was drowning

there. Why do we weep so much?
Edufa: Dreams, you only dreamed these things. Sickness plagues the mind
with monstrous fantasies. Pay no heed to them. Think only of reality. Think
of me. Is not your bed that sunny place in which we plant out children?
There has never been anything but warmth and happiness there, and never
will be, as long and I live and I love you so.
Ampoma: Don’t speak of it. I have strayed into the cold. Yet how good that
I should not be the one to live beyond your days. I could not live where you
are not. I could not live without you, my husband.
Edufa: Ah, loving wife.
Ampoma: Yes. That is the truth. I have loved you
Edufa: You have, And I have you still to fill my days with joy
Ampoma: I am dying too young; don’t you think? Look at me. What am I
saying? We knew this day will come. Am I listening to the lure of his voice
at this final stage? Weakened by the closeness of his flesh. Help me. Take
your arm away from me. Why do you restrain me at your peril? (p. 103,104)

Con f e s si on

Once there is acceptance of the situation, it signifies the end of life and perhaps the beginning of

another. Incidentally, Sutherland intends to portray the wickedness of Edufa and thus brings the

process of confession of guilt as a way to enhance the plot. She uses dreams and divination to show

us what Edufa did. Dreams and Divination also form an integral part of our indigenous identity.

In traditional set ups, consultations are done by the traditional priest or the diviner on behalf of the

people. This traditional worship practice was widespread before the advent of Christianity and is

25
still practiced in many communities today. When Kankam, Edufa’s father visits, he brings news

of his visit to a diviner and thus exposes Edufa’s secret.

Kankam: Marriage, and her innocent love. Oh, I know it all, Edufa. You
cannot hide behind impudence and lies; not with me. Diviners are there for
all of us to consult. And deeds done in secret can, by the same process, be
brought to light.
Edufa: You Know nothing. Diviners! Ho! Diviners? What have diviners
got to do with me?
Kankam: That, you must tell me. I believe in their ancient art. I know, at
least, that Ampoma is sick, and could die. It has been revealed to me that
she could die. And why? That you might live. (p. 109)

Edufa’s error is found in his ‘hubris’. Pride leads to a fall, they say, and Edufa may have saved his

wife’s life if his pride had not engulfed him. Now that the cat was out of the bag, rather than find

a solution, he continued as if nothing had happened. In traditional settings, such a man would be

said to have gone for ‘sika duro’ which literally means ‘money medicine’. His reputation and

integrity would be shattered if he is found to have done such. Tradition frowns upon people who

through others pain have gained wealth and status. Their notoriety lives long after them and they

are used as examples of bad citizens in community discussions.

Edufa: Alone. Tears within me that I haven’t had the privilege to shed.
Father! Call him back that I may weep on his shoulder. Why am I afraid of
him? He would stand with me even though he rages so. Call him back to bear
me on the strength of his faith. He knows it all. I can swear he is too true a
man to play me foul. But I could not risk confirming it. I dread the power by
which he knows, and it shall not gain admission here to energise that which
all is set this day to exercise. No, a man needs to feel secure! But, oh, how I
am stormed. Don’t ask me why I did it; I do not know the answer. If I must
be condemned, let me not be charged for my will to kill, but for my failure to
create a faith. (p. 114,115)

Edufa’s confession is typical of the confessions made by those who are exposed for their wrong

deeds. Indigenous beliefs include the posturing of an ‘eye for an eye’, a ‘life for a life’. Once you

spill blood, your blood must be used to compensate for the spilt blood especially that of an innocent

26
person. The resolution of the matter can only occur when a life is taken as compensation for the

wrong deed.

Re so l u t i on

Sutherland provides a resolution to her play after the death of Ampoma. It is ironical that though

Edufa loses his wife in his quest to keep his wealth, he does not get to keep his own life in the

process. Sutherland understands that for the curse to be broken, Edufa must pay with his life. This

is consistent with traditional practice, a life for a life. Whereas, we are saddened by the death of

Ampoma, we do not have any emotional attachment to the death of Edufa. Though tragic, we are

aware that as a tragic hero, he wove his own tapestry and created the road map to his own demise.

Edufa: Didn’t he take that bird away? Who are you? Don’t restrain me.
Where is my leopard skin? I’ll teach Death to steal my wives. I will lie closely
at the grave again, and when you come gloating with your spoil, I’ll grab you,
unlock her from your grip and bring her safely home to my bed, and until
then, no woman’s hand shall touch me.
Chorus: She is dead.
Senchi: There, Edufa, there…don’t rave so. No…not this.
Edufa: The last laugh will be mine when I bring her home again. I will bring
Ampoma back. Forward, to the grave. I will do it. I am a conqueror!
Conqueror…? (p. 153)

Edufa is a classic example of a play that play that hinges on the indigenous identity of the tradition

system of Ghana. Sutherland clearly eliminates all reference to colonial interruptions but considers

the Christian faith as a phase in the lives of the people. She shows how Edufa cannot free himself

entirely from the chains of his traditional beliefs. Senchi’s question to Edufa is poignant to say the

least as it portrays Edufa as a confused wealthy man torn between religions, beliefs, modernity and

tradition. The paradox, that leads him to his grave.

27
 Senchi: Say, have you changed your religion again. What are you practising
now? Catholicism, spiritualism, neo-theosophy or what? Last time I passed
through here, you were an intellectual atheist, or something in that category
(p. 122).

What Sutherland achieves in her playwriting journey, is her ability to revisit lost treasures that

colonialism took away from us. She navigates her stories through a rather complex maze of

indigenous routines and traditions that may have been lost if playwrights like her and others did

not brave all odds to bring back to our understanding that which was buried. Her influence on this

quest attracted others to look even deeper into her work and retrace other lost treasure for our

conservation. This brings into focus the next playwright on this journey, Martin Okyere Owusu.

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TR U TH A ND R ECO NC I L IA T IO N – M AR T IN O K Y E RE O WU S U ( 194 3 - )

Martin Okyere Owusu is a second generation Ghanaian playwright and dramatist who straddles

several generations of playwrights in Ghana. His love for theatre can be traced to his days in

Secondary school in one of the premier schools in Cape Coast, Mfantsipim Secondary School. It

was here that Owusu met the legendary Joe De Graft who later became the Director of the School

of Performing Arts, University of Ghana where Owusu also enrolled in 1963. Owusu’s career path

also saw him train as a teacher at the Presbyterian Training College, Akropong-Akuapem before

moving on the receive a diploma from the School of Music and Drama, and post graduate degrees

from both Bristol and Brandeis Universities.

Owusu’s plays are diverse and focus on several thematic areas. He has delved into history,

folktales, children’s plays and Ananse stories thus creating a wide range of knowledge tools for

his theatre readers and followers. There is no doubt that the inspirations of Sutherland and De Graft

can be found in some of his work but there is clear indication from his work that he cannot be said

to be tied to their umbilical cords as a writer, his journey, though similar, is clearly on a different

path. His trajectory to find our indigenous identities lies deep in his conviction that truth stands

and reconciliation is a virtue found in our own traditional beliefs. The simplicity of his plays, the

regurgitating story lines we have heard as children draws us deeper into his fold, for we

reminiscing on what we read and what we heard growing up. He is a master of thought provoking

messages that prick our conscience and bring us to a halt in our quest for wrong doing. He

challenges the status quo, asks deep rooted questions which require deed rooted answers. As a

storyteller, he is clear, crisp and forward. He hides nothing and exposes evil plainly without

29
masturbating his words, leaving the reader with a conscience as clear and crisp as the simplicity

of his words.

In this part of the paper, I will look at two of Martin Owusu’s plays namely The Sudden Return

(1973) and The Story Ananse Told (1971) and address them under the subject matter of ‘Truth and

Reconciliation’.

 Th e S u d d en Ret u rn ( 19 73)

Owusu’s masterpiece is based on a personal experience he had during his days teaching in Cape

Coast. The play focuses on the life of Kojo Tabi, a village boy who leaves his village to seek for

greener pastures in the big city. He marries and has two children and yet his dream of making it

big in the city does not materialize. Tabi, with the help of his friend visits a spiritualist who aid

him to become wealthy by sacrificing his family. When he realises that he has made an error of

judgement, he tries to rescind his decision but it is too late to do so. Tabi becomes rich but cannot

enjoy his wealth as he is haunted by his evil deeds, He decides to return to his village where he

feels he may bring some respite to his miserable life. Unfortunately, that does not happen and he

confesses his crime to his sister and later goes mad.

In discussing Owusu’s play, I would highlight his approach on this journey to discover the truth

behind why a man will kill his own family in search of wealth. The two main areas to consider in

finding our indigenous identity are

1. Spiritualism, Sacrifice and Wealth

2. Extended Family system

30
 1 . S p i ri t u a l i s m, S a c ri fi ce an d We a lt h

African belief systems are rife with spiritualism and sacrifice. Traditional leadership rites such as

chieftaincy and priesthood all have to go through initiations that conjure ancestors and spirits to

walk with and dwell with the priests and the chiefs. Though colonialism sought to destroy these

belief systems, couching them as inappropriate and uncouth, Africans continued to practice them

without much recourse to change. Ghanaian traditional systems are no different. Our belief in

witchcraft, dwarfs and other spirit beings is evident in our traditional worship practices. These

have continued for many years and though Christianity may have eroded some of these believes,

many are still passionate about and believe in them. Owusu’s play, is a reflection of our struggle

to obtain wealth and supremacy. Some believe that in order to acquire wealth, it is important to

make sacrifices to the gods who will in turn give you wealth. We cannot fathom why delving into

such issues may create more harm than good in our lives and that of others. The kind of sacrifices

we make include killing animals and in severe cases human beings. After living in the big city for

a while and not making the money he dreamed of, Kofi Tabi is confronted by his own demons. He

is convinced by his friend to go and see a spiritualist who can help change his fortunes.

Tabi: Wait. Let it sink. You see, I was married. I had two children – two
girls they were. But life was hard, very hard. One day I met a friend in the
train. I had known him for quite some time, and whenever we saw each
other we went for a drink and talked about our problems. I had been selling
for years without profit. In fact, at a certain stage, I thought I would be sent
to prison. I owed every possible money-lender at Obuasi. Well, we met in
the train and started talking about success in life and all that. I told him
more about my failures and how poor my home was; that I would return
when I am dead…and, you know, such foolish things. He had a similar fate.
And that is where it all started. He said he knew a Mallam who could help
us.
Nyarkoa: To become rich…

31
 Tabi: Yes. I did not take him seriously; but he insisted that we see this man.
The next day was Sunday. No train services. We went to see the Mallam…
(p. 15)

Owusu’s skill in making his characters’ truthful stems from his vast experience mentoring and

teaching. With over forty years of experience, he understands more than most that in order for a

character to be believable, you must, in spite of their flaws. ensure that they seem like real people,

people you can relate to and identify with. Kojo Tabi, until he met his friend was resigned to his

fate of poverty, scrapings and hard work. Unfortunately, those clouded his judgement and

perception of life. His reasoning, like many could not imbibe the dynamics of change through other

means. As far as he was concerned, to gain wealth, a person needed to consult another realm for

reprieve. Owusu, a Presbyterian, opens up a can of worms exposing the hidden truth of some

people’s wealth and the world of Spiritism for us. In the flashback scene, he shows a graphic

portrayal of how the world of the spirits work and how unseen forces influence our physical world

in order to make our dreams come true.

Mallam: …Well, what can I do for you?

The Man: Need you ask? For your help, of course.
Mallam: In money matters, I suppose
Mallam: Both of you?
Tabi: Er…yes.
Mallam: Are you prepared?
Tabi: To pay you?
Mallam: No, young man. But you have to pay for it. You pay for
everything you get, don’t you? Sometimes you use money to pay for what
you buy. You are a seller yourself. But sometimes it is not money the giver,
not the seller in this case needs. It is more than that> In this case, you have
to pay with blood – human blood – one way or another. But there are
alternatives: either you bring someone very dear to you, your wife, children,
mother, and so on; but the person must be one you love. You can use your
manhood; or a vital part of your body. It all depends on how much you
want. But let me warn you: you have the chance not to do it at all; because
once you have dipped your hand in the soup, you have to lick it. (p.16)

32
A good number of traditional homes have an idol they worship or a totem or talisman they preserve.

Some belong to societies that believe in ancestral worship whilst many still rely on traditional

priests, mystics and sorcerers for their spiritual awakening. Transforming lives and protecting lives

are two fundamental issues the ancestors and sprits believe in. Our indigenous beliefs include the

existence of dwarfs, mermaids and ancestral spirits. These fill our traditional homes and

communities and there are countless number of stories that recount experiences with such. Tabi

goes on in the play to recount how he killed his wife and children and how he gained his wealth.

The spilling of blood becomes the contact the physical has with the spiritual. Once the request

from the spirit realm is acknowledge and obeyed and the sacrifice is made, the spirit world must

give your request a hearing and then respond to your request. Unfortunately for people like Tabi,

the answer comes with consequences. Once blood is spilled, traditionally, that blood speaks and

seeks for revenge. In most cases that have to do with blood spillage in the chief’s palace or the

shrine of the traditional priest, the one who spills blood cannot be left off the hook.

Mallam: You did not hear three screams?

Tabi: No.
Mallam: You are not only blind; you are deaf as well. The work is done. I
saw your three victims come into the bowl, innocent and helpless; and each
time you pierced the heart, and then the scream followed. But you have no
eyes.
Tabi: Well?
Mallam: It is done. Every year for three years one of your victims will die.
Very ordinary deaths they would seem; nothing mysterious. Each additional
death will add a fortune to your wealth. That will also come naturally to
you.
Tabi: Thank you (p. 18)
There is no doubt that Kojo Tabi’s plight was as a result of his lack of understanding of how the

spirit realm works. Though, Owusu exposes us to some of the dark secrets, he does so as to caution

us of the consequences. For Owusu, in spite of the wealth you acquire, and despite the number of

people you may have sacrificed to gain that wealth, there is always a time for reconciliation. The

33
resolution of the matter will come at the time when in most cases you least expect it. For Tabi,

though he became wealthy, his day of reckoning was fast approaching. His sighting of ghosts and

feeling of being watched are all part of the spirits worlds reconciliation process. Owusu clearly

creates a path out for Tabi, that path however can only be taken once a full confession is made and

a disclosure of the evil done exposed. For most people in the traditional set up, that is either done

by the chief or the traditional priest. Once the confession is extracted, sacrifices must be made and

the blood atoned for. This leads to the end of the protagonist in such cases; reconciliation must be

completed.

Woman: Nyarkoa! Nyarkoa! Nyarkoa!

Nyarkoa: What is the matter? What is it? Tell me.
Woman: Go and see what your brother is doing in the street!
Nyarkoa: Eh? What? What is he doing?
Woman: In front of Mosi’s store. Everybody is surprised. We thought he
was fighting someone. But he wasn’t. He suddenly started shouting: I don’t
believe it! They were beautiful! Hei! Hei! Ei, Aberewa, I greet you. I was
telling Nyarkoa about the shameful thing your son, the one who came
recently, is doing in the street. All the children are around him. Shouting
into the air he is: I didn’t want to do it! He deceived me! My wife! My wife!
(p. 24)
For many people, delving into the spirit realm without understanding the implications of what you

are doing can be catastrophic. For Kojo Tabi, madness, engulfed him. His punishment for the blood

split was insanity. The reconciliation process avenged the murder of his wife and two children.

The shedding of innocent blood is frowned upon by society and those who engage in such are

regarded as evil to the core. Though Tabi may be said to have been naïve in these matters, his

ignorance of the workings of the spirit world cannot exonerate him from the wrongful act.

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 2 . E xt en d ed Fa m i ly

Like Sutherland, Owusu also explores our indigenous values that promotes the extended family

system. In Ghana, like most African countries, the extended family system is sacrosanct for two

reasons. First, the provision of support comes from the extended family system. Most families

spend all they have to educate their children with the assurance that they will in turn look after the

family once they complete school and find a good job. We see this in Ama Ata Aidoo’s play The

Dilemma of a Ghost (1964). The support can also be financial as in Daniel Appiah-Agyei’s play

Atobra (2011). The family support also happens when there is a festival, or a funeral or even a

wedding. The collective nature of the support ensures that members of a particular family can point

of where they come from with pride. Second, the extended family is a reflection of the lineage of

that family. It shows where the family comes from, and where they are going. It shows the strength

of the family and can also determine their status in society. Kojo Tabi left his family home at the

age of 15 and vowed never to return but thirty years later, when he began to experience bad

situations in his life, he returned to the same family he abandoned.

Old woman: In this house? This house has known only one family tree:
Some have left to join the dead, others have left to make a living elsewhere.
But you I do not know. Who is your mother?
Tabi: Aba Takyiwa
Old Woman: Who?
Tabi: Aba Takyiwa. DO you know her?
Old woman: Know her! I wish I had eyes strong enough to make me
believe… No, stranger, do not mock this house with our sad memories. We
have had enough. You cannot be him; unless his ghost has come to haunt
us.
Tabi: I am Kojo Tabi. I know it is a long time now, but that has not
changed my name or where I belong, old one. (p. 4)
Kojo Tabi is aware of the support he may get from his family. He is aware that the extended family

system operates a universal code of not leaving anyone to their fate if you can assist. Our

indigenous identity is also firmly wrapped in this ideology that without family we are truly lost;

35
the irony for Tabi, lost to the family, and presumed dead for thirty years. Traditional family

meetings are common in most communities; Families get together at least once a year to deliberate

on matters that affect the family. These matters may have to do with land, succession, funerals and

new births. In Kojo Tabi’s case, the family meeting called by Aberewa was slightly different. It

was a verification meeting. After thirty years, the now wealthy Tabi, had to be authenticated by

the family.

Old woman: Which of you knows this stranger?

Antwi: I am old; but I think old age can do wonders to some people! What
a question! How can we know a stranger?
Anto: Kofi, you have swallowed my saliva. Well, stranger, you are
welcome.
Nyarkoa: Honestly, if my brother were not dead, I would have supposed it
were him. And surely, this is not his ghost.
Old woman: Just as I thought. Yet they say I am too old to ask. It is you
who have lost your sense of ownership, let me tell you.
Anto: Sense of ownership?
Antwi: I don’t suppose you brought us here just to point out which sense
we have lost?
Old woman: No. But I would like the stranger to tell you who he says he is.
(p. 7)

Once there is enough evidence to show who you are, the family will then begin the process of

verifying your story. Imposters are not welcome to most families especially families with

heirlooms and treasure to keep. At least in Tabi’s case, he is verified rather quickly when he

mentions his mother’s name. The extended family system is couched in trust and togetherness. It

helps shape the family and invariably keeps the wealth of the family intact. Unfortunately, Kojo

Tabi’s family were not rich; that was the reason for his leaving in the first place. Tabi’s extended

family includes his Aunts, Uncles and Sister. When things come to a head and he goes mad, it is

the same family he deserted thirty years ago that rallies around him to find a cure for his illness.

Most traditional homes are set up in the same way Owusu describes. The extended family system

is premised on the adage that all men our brethren. Though there is a hierarchy in each household,

36
all are given the due respect based on age, education and societal status. The home is a safe haven

for all including travelers and those who for want of greener pastures abandoned the home. All our

welcome irrespective of the reasons for leaving.

The extended family also defines the course the family will take. Since decisions are a collective

decision, wealth is spread equally or in trust for newer generations. It may have been Tabi’s wish

to make money and return to his family under better conditions but his return rather sparked a

series of events that almost brought shame on the family, the reason why Anto and Antwi go in

search of medicine to cure him.

Anto: Is he in?
Nyakoa: Uncle! Uncle! You have come too late. He has done it; he went
out.
Anto and Antwi: What?
Nyakoa: It is worse, He went out. He spoke to the whole town. Now they
know, I fear.
Antwi: Where is he?
Nyakoa: I went to bring him back; He is in his room. Go and have a look at
him. I tried to prevent him, uncle.
Anto: What next, Kofi? We cannot cure him now.
Old woman: Did you not get some of the herbs?
Antwi: We did. But that was only to drive away the evil spirits haunting
him.
Nyakoa: What shall we do? He may be saved yet. Uncle, what shall we do?
Anto: He must leave this town immediately. I know the medicine man at
Kwadaso. I am sure he can do something about it. If we delay the one
nephew left will also be destroyed. Nyakoa, gather a few things. Kofi, I
think we should both go. (p.25)

Working together, the extended family achieves even more laurels than working individually and

this really is the crux of the African extended family system as again the Western styled nucleus

family system. Owusu abruptly ends the story there giving readers an opportunity to imagine what

may have happened to Tabi. If the extended family system is anything to go by, we are certain that

all will be done to ensure he receives the help he needs.

37
  Th e L eg en d o f A k u S i k a ( 19 99)

In this play Martin Owusu goes down the same road addressing issues of Spiritism and Divinity.

Though he follows closely on the heels of Sutherland’s Anansegoro, I do not believe his intention

was to create an Anansegoro but rather to show the rich storytelling traditions lost on many. His

choice of a legend, a fable of a poor deformed girl was once again based on his personal

experiences. Though the play addresses some thought provoking issues such as poverty and

deformity, the focus in finding our indigenous identity lies in his handling of the legend to reflect

our close relationship with the spiritual and how they above all affect our daily lives.

When Aku Sika is born, she is a normal child but a horrible accident leaves her deformed. This

affects her personality and she shies away from the public until a new king is crowned. Once he

sees Aku, he is determined to marry her at all cost and so sends to her family to make his intentions

known. When a messenger spills the beans of Aku’s deformity to the King’s elder wife, she

challenges him to let the world see Aku’s hand for she is convinced that it is deformed and he will

have to be removed from the throne if he carries out his wish to marry her.

Right at the beginning of the play, the writer sets the mood for the whole play. He initiates the

beginnings of man by showing how we are sent as emissaries to earth to carry out specific missions.

The sage, an earthly representation of the wisdom of the supreme being is also the one who ushers

us into the domain of the spirits where creation is taking place. Traditionally, we believe as a

people in a Supreme being, one who holds the world in his hand. We give him names that are

significant to our culture. Onyankopong, Onyame, Twereduampong. Otumfuo, Oseadieyie; these

herald the supreme being who is central to the dynamics of Spiritism in our indigenous identity.

The Sage: Time opens its ancient doors, and through the blackness of the
dark, dark corridor that leads to the land of Mythology, a voice cries out, a
profound voice; An ethereal call that echoes like the ripples of heavy
thunder through the dark corridor of time.

38
 Supreme Being: Fate! Fate! Fate! Stringent protector of the sealed
destinies of men
Fate: I stand before you Mighty wisdom; I lie prostrate at your feet and rise
to receive the sealed destinies of mortal beings
Supreme Being: The secrets of which remain unknown except to you,
faithful fate: Royal elder, Let the guardians of mortality bring before us the
bowls of destiny for these three mortal spirits. (p.4,5)

Owusu regards all men as being created by the Supreme being with each man receiving his destiny

before they are born. The path for Aku is clearly chosen and nothing will change that course. This

belief is universal in indigenous communities and the Supreme being is at the centre of all that

happens. When libation is poured to the ancestors, it begins with the invocation of the Supreme

being. When a child is born, he is out doored by carrying the baby and facing the sun as it rises.

Significantly, this is to acknowledge the new birth from the giver of life.

Supreme Being: Then shall divine intervention be necessary. Go my spirit

daughter. I release you for a time to suffering mortality. Your life shall
teach man about life. For man has yet to understand the essence of divine
Grace. Go, my spirit daughter. Royal Elder, watch over her. At the
appropriate time, rescue her from the grip of death and restore her to eternal
happiness. (p. 7)

Aku’s journey was already pre-destined and whatever she did from her birth is as a result of what

she is programmed to do.

The Sage: Legend has it that a young heroine once lived a life fated with a

painful beginning…which only the Supreme Giver of life,

Odomankoma, could understand. Her name was Aku Sika. (p. 9)

Does indigenous identity conform with the tenets of Fate? Are we comfortable believing that

everything around us is pre-programmed to be so? Are our lives controlled by unseen forces who

manipulate our every move like chess pieces on a chess board? These are challenging questions to

answer but legitimate enough for the playwright to take a folktale and turn it into a work of Art. If

we are to accept ‘Fate’ as our destined progress of life, then Aku’s life was bound to occur.

39
According to Mogens Brøndsted, in a paper titled The Transformations of the Concept of Fate in

Literature;

In the course of time the literary idea of fate has been subject to a series of
transformations which may also be of some interest from the point of view of
comparative religion. We shall sketch them in rough outline. The primary
point of departure is man's dualistic experience of coming up against an
exterior power stronger than himself, which thwarts his actions and
intentions. This is supposedly the basic element in all primitive religion: the
observation of an external power which decisively controls human life. The
first phase, then, is religious, whether this power is conceived to be a plurality
of spirits or deities or—most primitive of all, according to a recent trend in
comparative religion—as a single 'high god'. The insecurity of the ancient
tribal society can be seen in its tendency to discover an arbitrary spiritual will
behind all events. (Brøndsted, 1929, p.155)

Owusu plays on the subject of ‘Fate’ by creating a character in the play to represent what Brøndsted

refers to as ‘external power which decisively controls human life’. Indigenous practice agrees to a

large extend on the Brøndsted theory, for when children are born, the elders pronounce on them

good wishes and tidings. However, it is fate, that will determine their way in life. Aku’s fate comes

full circle when she is ordered to come to the town circle to show everyone whether she is deformed

or not. As ‘fate ‘will have it, this is all part of the plan from the beginning to restore her to a place

of hope and prominence and to end her struggles once and for all.

Aku: Forgive me grandmother, forgive me for the agony and for the pain.
But I have chosen death over shame. Some will say it is a cowardly act;
others will whisper about that I am responsible for the misfortunes of my
family. But those who know the truth will blame it on no one. And so, river
that journeys through the bowels of the earth, take me with you.
Spirit: Fear not Aku. Those Odomankoma will bless will not be helpless
forever.
Aku: But- who are you? I thought I was alone.
Spirit: You are never alone, Unseen by mortal eye, the living ancestors
walk with you, dine with you, and watch over you. They have heard your
desperate call and have sent me, their obedient servant, to rescue you. Come
forward. Stand here. Whatever you see, stand firm. Do not fear. You will
hear a voice. Do as it commands. (p.28)

40
The miracle at the riverside is meant to show the power of the Supreme Being to repair lost hope

and bring change to the vulnerable. Our lives as per what Owusu intends to portray, are fused to

that of the ancestors and they have a say in what or who we are. Aku is portrayed as a person with

a good heart, making it possible for a visitation from the spirit world. Once she has been restored,

she is now emboldened to go and face her accusers knowing full well that she knows something

others don’t. Owusu employs dramatic irony in the latter part of the play when Aku’s hand is

restored. The dramatic irony in itself is significant in that is also reminds us that the spirit world

deals with each and every one of us as individuals and it will only take us to reveal to the world

what we have encountered.

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CO N C LUS I O N

Analysing the work of two of the greatest Ghanaian playwrights is not an easy task. The similarities

in their work point to a close working relationship or influences of the same source. Efua

Sutherland and Martin Owusu both draw inspiration from traditional folktales and create

performance spectacles that reflect their understanding and interpretation of those tales. Though

Sutherland started out with improvising her play, her finished work has become the gold standard

for playwrights who intend to veer into the arena of Anansesem. Indeed, with the exception of

Owusu, others like Joe De Graft, Efo Kodjo Mawugbe and Yaw Asare are regarded as some of the

best Anansesem playwrights.

Though they were born twenty years apart, Sutherland and Owusu seem to corroborate on many

fronts. They discuss almost the same subject matter is a number of their plays. Both delve into the

area of spiritism and divination; both regard external forces as influencers in the lives of ordinary

men and both relate the consequences of our actions to the maneuvering of the spirit world. Though

Sutherland’s play Edufa is an adaptation of the Greek play Alcestis by Euripides, the heavy

presence of necromancy is not limited to Greek culture. Our indigenous identity includes our belief

in the presence of our ancestors in all that we do. We celebrate the dead in many ways and believe

that our very existence is linked to their own existence in another world. Owusu also makes this

link when Kojo Tabi in his confessions say that he sees the ghosts of his family.

Tabi: You wanted to know. I will finish soon. Of course, I started making
money incredibly fast. But then I had no peace of mind. Ever since that day
I have never had a peaceful sleep. They have been disturbing my sleep. At
one stage, sister, I thought I was going mad. Sometimes, I saw my wife and
two children… (p.19)

42
The reality of our indigenous identity stems from our own journey through many centuries of

community building, wars and cross cultural marriages. We have evolved over centuries. Our way

of life may have now been tainted with other cultures imposed or acquired yet beneath the ripples

of our new taste for other cultures lies an identity that clearly shows who we were and who we still

are. As playwrights journey to find our purpose and to bring us back to the place where we belong

and started, we cannot help but think through the concept of Sankofa, a powerful representation of

our journey and what we may have left behind in our quest for acceptance and global recognition.

Those sacred treasure chests that our ancestors fought to preserve and handed down to us are the

very things that we now attempt to retrieve after being lost to us for many years. These are the

nuggets which Sutherland and Owusu attempt to bring us back to. We journey with them and

beyond them to ensure that our indigenous identity is restored. The introduction to the book The

Legacy of Efua Sutherland captures a quote by W.E. Du Bois which sums up the work of

Sutherland and Owusu; “I pray you my dear Mr. Nkrumah, to use all your power to puta Pan-

Africa along these lines into working order at the earliest possible date. Seek to save the great

cultural past of the Ashanti and Fanti people, not by inner division but by cultural and economic

expansion towards the utmost bounds of the great Africans people, so that they may be free to live,

grow and expand”. (p.6)

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