Cameron Duodu
LETTER FROM THE NORTH
To anyone who takes even a rudimentary interest in African history, the name Asante stands out as one of the most valiant of the nations that attempted to halt the incursions of the European powers in the 18th and 19th centuries.
In fact, it was not until 1874 that the British were able to send an “expeditionary force” to Kumase, the Asante capital. But, in spite of the lethal armament the Asante saw the British deploy at the time, they maintained their independence. So in 1896, the British went back. The Asante King, Otumfuo Nana Prempeh I, refused to fight them and give them another opportunity to destroy his capital.
But assuming that if they got the king, Asante capitulation would be complete, the British bundled the king, his mother and some of his sub-chiefs, off to Sierra Leone.
However, true to their motto: “We are the Asante porcupine; like the porcupine’s quills, if you kill a thousand [of us], a thousand will sprout into their place,” the Asante refused to kowtow to the Brits. So when, in 1900, a British governor called Frederick Hodgson went to Kumase and demanded that the Asantes should surrender their “golden stool” to him, “a mere woman” [as a song in her memory puts it] Yaa Asantewaa, Queen Mother of Edweso, mobilised an Asante army to besiege this governor in his fort.
Eventually, she was captured and carted off to the Seychelles Islands, to join King Prempeh.
Before the British rudely interrupted their march into history, the Asantes had opened up trade routes that led all the way across the desert to North Africa’s ports. And they fought the British so often because they wanted to retain access to the sea, to trade with the Danes, the Dutch, the Portuguese and the Spanish, and not just the British. What would have happened if they had been allowed to develop their own international relations, importing such technologies as they needed, without the intervention of British colonialism, is one of the great “what ifs” of African history.
I reported sadly in these pages last year that the King of Asante, Otumfuo Opoku Ware II, had “gone to his village”. Well, a new king, Otumfuo Osei Tutu II, has been put on the golden stool and, guess what – while he was in London over the past week, he graciously granted yours truly an audience.
The new king is 50 years old but looks 40 or less. He is as modern as can be – he wore a smart jacket but with an enormous gold brooch of traditional design on the lapel, to signify his high office. He was educated at the Kilburn Polytechnic in North-West London, as well as the University of North London, in human resource development.
After qualifying as a member of the British Institute of Personnel Management, Otumfuo Osei Tutu worked for the British food processing firm, Oxo, as a finance officer, and later took a post with the British Manpower Services Commission. He also has experience in the insurance business, acquired in Canada. In 1995 he returned to Ghana to set up in business, which included importing mining equipment from South Africa and Britain.
Appropriately, one of his clients was Ashanti Goldfields.
When one gets to his presence, one finds the king exuding authority without exertion. Thus, he can afford to be affability itself. I found that he has a very serious purpose. He realises that his position enables him to be a factor of stability in a society often buffeted by the vicissitudes of political change at the centre. These changes can lead to the interruption of programmes aimed at bringing educational facilities, as well as health and social amenities, to the people. So he would like to be able to supplement the development efforts of the central government with a local contribution that will span regimes.
He has therefore set up an educational fund, which will be used to build educational institutions and assist needy students. He wants to tap the considerable resources of Asantes who live and work in Britain, and will later do the same thing in the United States. Because of his undoubted popularity, the idea is bound to be a great success.
The king has been received at Buckingham Palace by the Queen of England and the Duke of Edinburgh – an event which those of his ancestors who were deported to the Seychelles Islands at the beginning of the last century would never have thought possible.
Even more implausibly, the king hopes to obtain from the British government the return of some of the sacred Asante gold and other works of art taken from the royal mausoleum in Kumase in 1874 and 1896. To the British the pillaged items were just “artefacts” to adorn the drawing rooms of imperial soldiers and politicians, or to be added to the Crown Jewels, or bequeathed to museums. But to the Asante these objects carry the spirits of those who handled them. For instance, the new king’s name, Osei Tutu, is taken from the very founder of his nation, and he would experience a spiritual “high” if he was ever able to brandish the very golden sword, Mponposuo, which the first Osei Tutu used to swear fealty to his nation at its inception.
Indeed, even Asante commoners have been known to weep when, on visits to foreign museums (such as the Wallace Collection in London), they chance across the life-size death masks, cast in solid gold, of past Asante Kings.
Surely, the wrongs of 100 years ago must not be perpetrated by the continued detention in Britain of these spiritually powerful mementoes of Asante’s past?