In presenting to the public these stories based on the folk-lore of the Gold Coastpeoples, it seems necessary to say something in general terms of the economic andsocial development of the colony in so far as that development is affecting the ‘lore’of the folk.
Not until the civilization and industrialism of Europe began to penetrate into thedistricts of the Guinea Coast was any great attempt made to study the folk-lore ofthese peoples. It is obvious, therefore, that the student must find considerable admixturefrom outside sources which the absence of a native system of writing and consequentliterature makes exceedingly difficult to detect. The difficulties increase with time,for we are getting farther and farther from the genuine folk-lore. Each year, fromtowns like Accra, Seccondee, and Cape Coast the tentacles of European civilizationare slowly extending in all directions. Railways and roads are creeping [12]out, old-fashioned crudity is giving way to simpler and more expeditious methods;new industries, as rubber and cocoa, are being established.1 All this must be borne in mind in studying the folk-lore as told by the native to-day.What is happening is, unfortunately, not an awakening, but a transformation. The negrois discarding his native cloth for a European suit of clothes.
“On all sides it is reported that the demand for European provisions, luxuries, andapparel is large and greatly increasing. The large imports of tinned provisions, flour,etc., is in part due to the scarcity of native food-stuffs in certain districts, butthere is no doubt that the standard of living is changing and rising.
“There is a general desire not only in the colony, but in Ashanti, for better roads,better houses, cleaner villages, and the desire has been prompted by the example ofthe great sanitary improvements in the larger towns.…
“It can be observed that the people take a growing pride in the institutions and traditionsof their country, that the chiefs are realizing the duties and [13]influence of their position, and that public opinion, among the educated classes,at any rate, is beginning to recognize that some advance on the ideals and standardsof the past must now be demanded.”2
This, from the utilitarian and Imperial standpoints, is as it should be, but it tendsto be fatal to the mythology, the customs, and the traditions of such peoples as thenegroes of West Africa. For this change is not taking place only in the directionof mere materialism. Christianity, entering the country through the ports, and Mohammedanism,being carried by Haussas along the trade routes from the interior, are playing theirpart in these psychological and sociological changes. The negro of yesterday differsfrom the negro of to-day as he in turn will differ from the negro of to-morrow. Inview of all this metamorphosis it is much to be regretted that the geographical andlinguistical difficulties have made the task of the folk-lorist not only difficultbut wellnigh impossible. Much, of course, might be done if those whose duties carrythem into the various districts would take in hand the task. The collation of theirresults might enable one to eradicate [14]outside and recent influences and in a measure get at “the back of the black man’smind.”
The material in this book was collected in the following manner: The new educationalpolicy of the Government provided for a Training Institution for Teachers at Accra.The first students to be admitted were men who had already had some considerable experiencein the schools of their districts. They were, therefore, sufficiently familiar withthe English language to express themselves clearly and fluently. At the same timethey were men who could remember the time when the new civilizing forces at presentat work were not nearly so pronounced. By obtaining from these students a varietyof versions of the same story it became possible to some extent to eradicate the superfluousand the spurious.
The selection of tales has been carefully made, and in the retelling and illustratingof the story the object has been to give the reader an introduction to the thoughtand customs of the West African negro.
In order to produce the correct ‘atmosphere’ for the story, picture an evening scenein a native village. [15]The sun is nearing the western horizon, seeming to fall like a huge ball behind thedistant hills, the air is cool, and a solemn stillness prevails. Even the noisy youthsand girls are quiet, and the time for tom-toms, crickets, bull-frogs, and the miscellaneousinstruments of man and Nature for the production of the most weird and inharmoniousof sounds is not yet. In the compound—the courtyard round which are the family dwellings—thewomen with their picin (children) on their backs are busy with mortar and pestle making foo-foo (native food from maize). Squatting near the mud walls, naked to the waist, theircloth forming but a covering for the loins, are a number of men smoking short claypipes and expectorating in a most insanitary manner—a perfect picture of idleness.Naked youngsters stand open-mouthed listening to the conversation of their elders,or amuse themselves at hide-and-seek, marbles, or some other native game.
The short twilight of the tropics brings all occupations except talking to an end,and of talking there seems to be no end. Here and there some one or other lies down,covers himself entirely with his cloth, and is lost to the world.[16]
A lantern is brought out, and unconsciously and imperceptibly it becomes the centreof dark forms, relieved now and again by rows of beautiful white teeth as the ownersindulge in a hearty laugh. At times conversation lags; some one drones a monotonoustune, others smoke in quiet contemplation, while others again follow the example ofthe dark human mounds scattered about the compound.
Suddenly, “Comrades, listen to a story.” At once the men, women, and children pressround the speaker, an eager crowd, ready to hear or to tell the tales of their folk.
“All right, let it come.”
Thus commences another evening wherein the native recounts to his neighbour for thehundredth time the stories handed down by tradition from the dim ‘before-time.’ Thenative is a born raconteur, and his stories are not the outcome of his imagination, but folk-lore modified andornamented perhaps to suit the particular audience or particular circ*mstance. Someof these modifications which have assumed a more or less permanent form are commentedon below.
Throughout the Gold Coast Colony and Southern [17]Ashanti the stories as given by the various tribes are essentially the same. It maybe that further and more detailed investigation in the domain of folk-lore will helpto solve a very important ethnic problem, namely, whether the coast tribes are orare not of the same stock as those of the hinterland. It is generally accepted atpresent that “these people of the West Coast were for the most part the broken fragmentsof races that have been driven to the sea by the stronger races of the interior.”3 If this were so, then one would expect to find differences in the folk-lore of thestronger and weaker races similar to those between the folk-lore of the Celts andAnglo-Saxons. Actually, this does not appear to be so, though at present the datais not sufficient to enable one to form a definite opinion.
The following is from a recent work on the Gold Coast, and presents a slightly differentview from that in the quotation above: “The general sum of these traditions [regardingthe origin of the tribes] is that the Fantis, Ashantis, Wassaws, and in fact all theTwi-[Tshi] speaking, or Akan, peoples, were originally one tribe. They were a pastoralrace and [18]inhabited the open country beyond the forest belt and farther north than Salaga. Anorthern and lighter-skinned people, which is commonly supposed to have been the Fulanis,commenced to encroach on their territory, and, being stronger than they, seized theircattle and young women and made many of the others slaves.… The subdivision of theunited Akan race into its main branches, the Fantis and Ashantis, is variously accountedfor.… One story very plausibly explains that the constant raids of their northernenemy, who burned all the farms, reduced the Akans to great straits for food. Someof them subsisted on a wild plant named fan and others on a plant named shan, and thus gained the names Fan-dti and Shan-dti (dti, to eat).”4 A possible alternative explanation is that the same stock occupies the coast andthe hinterland, and that differentiation has come about as the result of malaria affectingthat portion of the race inhabiting the region of the lagoon marshes along the coastalplain. It has now been fairly well established that malaria can and does have a deleteriouseffect on races, and [19]that even in the case of Greece and Rome the malarial factor must be taken into accountin discussing the causes which brought about their fall.5 It may be that the marshes round Salonica and the swamps of the Campagna have theircounterpart in the long line of lagoon swamps that lie between the surf-wall and theforest wall of ‘the Coast.’ Medical science alone, perhaps, will be able to solvethe problem, but folk-lore can and does render valuable assistance toward a solution.A conquered people do not give up their ‘lore’ with the land, but carry their customsand traditions with them to their new homes.
There is one story which has a special interest in this connexion because, after beingcarried by the negroes from Africa to the Southern States in the slave days, it becamethe basis of a story which has served to amuse the children and adults of the wholeof the English-speaking peoples, namely, The Wonderful Adventures of Old Brer Rabbit. It is interesting to compare the tar-baby narrative with the manner in which Anansiwas caught in Story X.
From the scanty material we have at present, it would seem that the folk-lores ofthe coastal and [20]hinterland peoples are substantially the same, the differences being traceable inmany cases to the influence of the new environment. Thus, in the story where Anansiseeks to hide the wisdom of the world (Story II), which he has collected in a pot,among the coast peoples he finds a difficulty in climbing up the palm-tree, but amongthe forest tribes his difficulty is to get over the trunk of a tree which has fallenacross the bush-path. Here the difference is due to environment and not to race.
It is necessary to point out that similarity of story cannot by itself be taken asindicative of similarity of race. Indeed, so common is it to find the same story toldby people of varying types and in every stage of progress that it has opened up aproblem of great importance. Have such stories originated from a common source? and,if so, where may the common origin be found? Or are folk-stories like the materialproductions of the races, i.e. do they follow a more or less common line of development?6 What connexion can there be, for example, [21]between the negro of the Gold Coast and the Serb? Yet they have a story remarkablysimilar. In the story of Ohia (Story XIX) the power of understanding the languageof animals was given him on condition that he should not disclose the secret to anyhuman being under pain of death. This knowledge often gave him occasion for laughter,and at such times his wife, ignorant of the cause, became angered and suspicious.She demanded to know the reason for such outbursts, and at last her importunity resultedin the telling of the secret, and consequent death of the man. In the Serbian story7 the dénouement is somewhat different, comedy taking the place of tragedy. The man when just aboutto yield his life to satisfy the curiosity of his wife listens to the co*ck, who declaresthat he can manage to keep his hundred wives in order by giving them a good peck when they need it. The man accordinglyleaves his coffin and brings his wife to reason and her knees by a well-administeredchastisem*nt. How came these two peoples to have a story with so many features incommon? Is it possible [22]that the Turk and the Moor may have provided links?
It may not be out of place here to mention the effect of the contact of the slave-tradingEuropeans on the folk-lore of the Coast negroes. The grim white castles every fewmiles along the whole of the Guinea Coast stand as stern reminders of the time whenthe helpless coastal tribes were raided and men, women, and children sold into slavery.But one who has conversed with the native of to-day cannot doubt that the greatesteffect of those terrible days is discernible in the native mentality itself. It has,as one might expect, influenced more or less the folk-story. Here, for example, isone type of influence:
“When the Portuguese first landed, the natives betook themselves to the forest. Whenthe white man had put off again the natives crept cautiously back to the beach. Totheir great surprise they found there a basin full of rum. One of them, by name Mbura,tasted some, and finding that it was sweet, drank as much as he could and became intoxicated.Others did the same, and when many of them were helpless the boatmen returned andcarried [23]them off. On account of the rum being tasted by Mbura, we call rum in Fantee Mbura-nsa—i.e. Mbura’s wine.”8
Even more remarkable is the origin of the god Nyankupon, who figures largely in bothmythology and folk-lore. Many stories introduce Nyankupon, and yet he is no nativegod at all.
“After an intercourse of some years with Europeans, the Tshi-speaking inhabitantsof the towns and villages in the vicinity of the various forts added to their systemof polytheism a new deity whom they termed Nana-Nyankupon—sometimes called simplyNyankupon. This was the god of the Christians, borrowed from them and adopted undera new designation. The great superiority manifested by the whites in their weapons,ships, manufactures—in short, in everything—convinced the natives with whom they hadintercourse that they must necessarily be protected by a deity of greater power thanany of those to which they themselves offered sacrifice, since their own deities hadnot, except very remotely, helped them to attain any such prosperity. They thereforegladly enrolled themselves amongst the [24]followers of the god of the whites, and being informed that he dwelt in the heavensabove, they denominated him Nana-Nyankupon, which may be freely translated ‘Lord ofthe Sky.’ ”9
The Gold Coast folk-stories are readily divisible into two groups, Anansi and non-Anansitales. Anánsi is the spider, and with him is generally associated his son, Kweku Tsin (Tsĩ). Whyso many spider stories? No satisfactory explanation can as yet be given. It cannot be due entirelyto the superabundance of spiders in native dwellings and surroundings, for other tribesalong the Coast seem to concentrate on other creatures, as the elephant and the tortoise.Nor does there seem to be sufficient evidence to trace the origin to totemism. Nodoubt many of the Anansi stories as told to-day are due to observation of the waysand peculiar characteristics of the spider, and are an attempt to explain the whyand the wherefore. And generally it is decided that he is a wise, cunning, deceitfulcreature who scampers off to hide in the ceiling because he has done something tobe ashamed of and has, unfortunately, been [25]found out. Here are two comments from folk-stories on Anansi:
“The wisdom of the spider is greater than that of all the world together.”
“Woe to one who would put his trust in Anansi—a sly, selfish, and greedy person.”
The non-Anansi stories are generally of the ‘Just-so’ type—why the ears of the deerare long, why the waist of the wasp is slim, etc. There is nothing in the wide realmof botany, astronomy, or geography of a peculiar or striking character but an explanationis forthcoming in the lore of the folk. There is, of course, the usual sprinklingof magic tales, which bear a striking resemblance to many European märchen, or fairy-tales.
In conclusion, an apology must be offered to the scientific folk-lorist. The storieshave been retold in order to appeal to a wider public, but it is hoped that ere longthe complete original material may be available for the student of folk-lore.
W.H. B.[27]
