NTOABOMA — As a young child, dinner was always special. Though I lived at my grandmother’s family home, I couldn’t dine with my grandmother and the other lovely women I had come to recognize – aunties, sisters and cousins. Nor could I dine with my great-grandmother even though I was her favorite great-grandson, the one who had the sole privilege of sleeping in her bed. Only “special” people dined with her. She was above respect. It was forbidden.
Before I turned five years, I dined with whomever. But after that age, I recall eating on my own – washing my hands and using my right hand at the table without the bottle or the nipple to my mouth. When food was ready, two tables were set – one for the men and another for the women. After that age, I always ate at the men’s table with the men of the house.
At this table, the men offered no pampering and no warnings. There was no love, only toughness. I was refused luxury. I wasn’t given enough fish or meat (to my liking) and I stood upright at the table – not snuggled in the warm lap or bosom of mother, or grandmother; not leaning on mother’s wrist so she could pump my jaws with my love of freshwater crabs. No, at five, I attempted what I wanted and ate like a man.
Hardly any distance separated the men and the women at dinner. We didn’t eat in different rooms; in fact, we shared the same space, often only three feet stood between these two different worlds – the man’s world and the woman’s world. A short expanse, a mere three feet were markedly responsible for how I perceived the world then and how I perceive it today. These three-foot-relocation within the same space at age five was the first rite de passage for a boy in my village. Equally so it was for all my boyhood siblings. At dinner the girls, too, remained three feet away, at least.
On this side, that is the man’s table, the food was always scalding hot. It was eaten fast and the boluses swallowed were bigger. Much bigger. This was actually encouraged. We swallowed whatever size we wanted, if we could. At five, I learned to fit into this company where however many men were there and however old they were gathered around this large table – carpentered by my grandfather himself. My uncles, my cousins and my siblings all gathered around this table.
Sometimes the bolus burned my throat. Sometimes the heat ignited teardrops in one eye or another. No matter, the men urged me to bite on a bigger bolus. Swallowing a bigger bolus cleared the throat, they said. It worked. Sometimes the wonders of a bony tilapia would make my day – a bone would lodge itself carefully within my gills. I coughed. But I was pressed to swallow an even bigger bolus before gulping down water. Water got you filled quickly. You finished eating before you drunk anything. It worked. I continued on this path trodden by my fathers, their fathers and the men before them, the passageway to becoming men.
Whenever I ventured out of this narrow decorum of manhood and took a bite of someone else’s piece of fish, the back of my hand was stung from a slap. Any new kid to this ceremony uttered a bleat. The men urged him, “Men don’t cry.” If I talked, the back of my hand was slapped again. Any new kid to this ritual screamed. From three feet away, the women turned to look. My grandmother usually stole a glance. But the men urged, “Real men don’t cry.” Grandma nodded in agreement. When you stared at people without focusing on the food, the back of your hand throbbed once more. Calling Grandma to ease the pain wasn’t an option. The men urged yet again, “Strong men don’t cry.” If the food was too hot, these men urged, “Brave men eat anything.” If there was too much salt or pepper, they urged, “Courageous men leave nothing to waste.”
At a young age of five you barely walked, but you stood upright at the table. Sitting wasn’t an option. You learned to set the table. You learned to clear it. You learned to wash your hands. You learned not to cry. You learned to eat fast, eat big and eat hot. Such was the first set of the rite de passages a boy in Ntoaboma received. There was no room for a crier. There was no room for those who complained. There was no room for soft boys.
My first day in boarding school was exhilarating, but my first night was even more of a nightmare. I was twelve years. At a school for boys (supposedly), I marveled at those who wept in the comfort of their beds on the first night. What boys were these? What men raised them? Which village borne them? Certainly not Ntoaboma.
Later in life I would learn how these boys grew up and where most of them had come from. How they were so very different. How they were so very soft. How they cried easily. How they complained ceaselessly and still did nothing to settle their grumbles. How these boys dreamed about their mothers and the cozy disillusionment they suffered at home!
I would learn how these boys grew up.
My aunt’s neighbor, a landlord of some sorts, built a handy underground water tank to store Akosombo’s water on the few blessed days the water wet her pipes. Unfortunately, this cunning landlord redirected all the neighborhood’s water into his water tank. Soon this infamous water tank was renamed Akosombo’s cousin – at least that’s what little five-year old boys called it. Not only that, this man sold the water by the bucket, often at exorbitant prices to everyone in the vicinity, even to his own tenants. What a feudal lord!
My aunt, who lived miles away from Ntoaboma, was obviously not very happy. She could not fetch any water for her home during the narrow grace period Akosombo afforded her. So she decided to have a word with this man. This feudal lord completely ignored her. Twice, five times, ten times, she accosted other men in the neighborhood to talk to this feudal lord until it became clear that, in a whole neighborhood of men, she was the only one who cared. The men complained ceaselessly, but no man would confront this single feudal lord next door who dammed everyone’s water into his tank. Not. One. Man. These men went about their lonely carping lives whining about the landlord next door, yet doing nothing.
The news eventually reached Ntoaboma. Its winds blew upon the ears of my grandfather and grandmother. That’s how I heard about it. I was seventeen years. My grandmother asked me to visit my auntie’s town and have a man’s word with this feudal lord. I obliged and visited my beloved auntie for a week. I spoke with the feudal lord my very first day. Poor guy, no man ever stepped to him. He completely ignored my warning – that if he dammed the water again, preventing my auntie from making contact with Akosombo, I will come back and I would be very ugly.
When the waters came, we heard the splash of our neighborhood-water from Akosombo beating against the walls of his tank. I climbed our shared wall – this was the fastest way to get to him. Poor guy, he was actually about to have his dinner too. I snatched the knife from the washed-plate-basket and in front of his own children introduced him to my childhood rite de passage – eat fast, eat big and eat hot, and listen carefully. Poor guy, he managed two seconds of it and like the boys I met in boarding school, he burst out weeping. Profusely.
Who passed these people into men? Where are they brought up? Are they nurtured at dining tables full of mothers and grandmothers? Where are such men forged? Are they created at prayer camps? At dining tables of nuclear families without a single rite de passage into what it means to be a man, what it means to stand up for yourself, or what it means to risk being held captive—or even dead—for a loved one?
I would learn to pity these men.
It’s because of men like these that our women endure an unremitting struggle and hustle. Day in and day out a teenage woman in the United States of America walks out of college on graduation day and spins away in a brand new vehicle, saunters into a brand new house amidst the pomp and pageantry of a brand new high paying job. Across the Atlantic, a teenage lady, notwithstanding her beauty, in Ntoaboma struggles to obtain a simple pair of sandals for her teacher training college. But no matter, our men don’t give a damn.
It’s because of men like these that we live in the Ghana we live in. This is why we live the putrid African life we live: because of pusillanimous men, soft men, men without a heart for the hot, the big and the fast.
In this new Africa, soft men sit content and cross-legged while other men, real men, roll in as Africom to guard and collect our resources – the gold, the diamonds, the oil, the cocoa, the bauxite – at practically no cost and take them away to distant lands to enrich their women. Do our women deserve better? Of course they do. My auntie deserved better. Even my grandmother without one credit hour in a classroom knew that much. She dispatched me to instill the vengeance of men into that feudal lord next door at any price, even at the expense of my life.  My grandmother knew that to take back what belonged to you came at a price. Only brave men understood and embraced that price.
Maybe one day Africa’s men will wake up and realize that their women, too, deserve better. Far better. It’s time to stop the feudal lords next door from siphoning away our resources, only to sell it back to us, take our money and enrich themselves. It’s about time. Our women deserve much better.
It reminds me of the quality works of Chinua Achebe especially on Things Fall Apart, considering a character like Okonkwo. Real men, are men of action not men of reaction. Such men are called men of power. Because they have the capacity to pay the price to forcefully take what belongs to them, feared by all quarters, speak little but control volume of actions across board. Men of valour. You have inspired by soul my great friend. A wonderful piece to remember the historic records of the 300 Spartans. This is how you take possession what belongs to you.
Hopefully someday we will live In the real Africa where men are men. Very well written Narmer Amenuti. Great perspective!!!
This is brilliant. Knowing where it’s coming from, I’m not surprised at all. Most definitely, we need men to challenge feudal lords
I just loved how Narmer Amenuti connected the story to our national reality. Impeccable! You’re a story teller
You just don’t get to read essays like this often. Really. This is fascinating peerlessness. Undoubtedly, I thought it was well executed. Stories are powerful. Tweneboah Senzu you are right – there’s an Okonkwo-ishness here. My Sista Grace, yes, don’t we hope? That one day “we will live In the real Africa where men are men”? I believe it will happen. I am glad I am not the only one who thinks the story was well woven dear friend Nii Ashitey Armah.
Zowonu Worlanyo Korku, I agree with you… I want to take just a few classes. I love the story by the way. Here I am self-absorbed into some story about Narmer’s life then boom, boom, boom: “pussillanimous men, soft men, and why we live in this putrid Africa.” You know how to hammer your point home… you do it like that so we can’t go to bed without thinking about the point – we have become soft men and allow other men to build AFRICOM all over our lands and steal our resources to enrich their women! Great job!
It started of with an interesting narrative of manhood – one that I felt a little unease with. Manhood? What is manhood? Nonetheless, the story went on to paint this Ntoaboma picture of manhood. This is what I also like about the stories Narmer tells. He doesn’t act like he knows every village in Africa and what aeverybody does in Africa. Even the subject of manhood, the story is told from the vantage point of a man from Ntoaboma. There’s no claim to knowing what African manhood is, only the claim to what it means to be an African man from Ntoaboma. Now, I want to visit Ntoaboma.
Anyway, from this Ntoaboma perspective it become exceedingly clear that this manhood that Narmer describes is one stooped in blessing and taking care and nurturing everything African. It’s a manhood that does not belittle women, nor doe it think women soft – the Auntie actually stands up to the feudal lord when other men wouldn’t. Striking! But although it took a 17 year old Narmer to come and confront this feudal lord, it took the Woman, the Auntie to recognize the problem. It took the grandparents, especially, Narmer’s grandmother to find the solution: Narmer, go out there and have a man’s word with this feudal lord.
This is beautiful. How one can speak of manhood without belittling womanhood. Only few can do this.
Excellent read. Akosua M. Abeka officially I drool over articles on grandmotherafrica.com
Interesting story. Politically incorrect? I think so. Undue emphasis on “manhood” or machoism. A remnant of patriarchal thinking that must be left to die? Yes. How about “womanhood?” Imagine a world where your grown up aunty didn’t need a 17 year old male to come to her defense, but had the same mental and social conditioning to confront her abuser and potentially empower a generation of girls.
I regret you read this story the way you have though.
There’s nothing wrong with needing a 17-year old nephew, a man, to come in and help finish what an auntie – a woman – started, a my brother Bidi. One of the reasons why we have problems in the world today, in my opinion, is because we stopped recognizing that men are men and women are women. God – or nature, if you don’t care to believe in God – is not stupid, and there’s a reason why we’re made the way we are, each gender with it strengths…and weaknesses.
Nowhere in this beautifully-told story did Mr. Narmer suggest that women are weak and/or incapable of fighting for themselves: it took a woman to stand up to a bully when all the men just whined and complained without doing anything – much like we do in Africa everyday. And it took a wise grandmother to recognize a simple, effective solution to the problem.
I think it’s high time we all stopped this so-called “politically-correct” hogwash of men and women being the same; we’re not, and never will be. We’re different – physically, physiologically, emotionally, psychologically, perhaps even intellectually; but that doesn’t make men better than women (or superior to them) and vice-versa. We’re just different, and that is good…very, very good, in fact; so let’s stop trying to change that, stop pitting one side against the other. We – all human-kind – would be much better off if we did!
“Undue” emphasis on manhood or machoism? So what? I wonder what counts as “due” emphasis on manhood and machoism – to the extent that it doesn’t hurt to talk about manhood? A remnant of patriarchal thinking? What definition of patriarchy are you using Kwame E. Bidi? The “ruler” definition or the “head of family” definition? Either one has not relations whatsoever with the story. I am sorry, you miserably missed the message. What about womanhood? Maybe if a writer chooses to pay “undue” emphasis on womanhood and femininity (s)he would so choose?
Not that I think you are a feminist but your comment only reminds me of one. Feminists and sympathizers of such opinion-leaders are presenting Africans with a false choice: if we emphasize our manhood — even if we recognize that womanhood can be equally powerful albeit in a different way — we somehow do not care about the lives of women or that we only support a society where men do the heavy lifting for women. That is patently misleading. It is such concoctions of hypocrisy that have pulled the wool over so many African eyes.
I am a man, and I am darn proud of being one. And if my aunty were to call me to put the fear of vengeance into a guy that pusillanimous men refused to stand up to, I will oblige and lift my knife as well. The hypocrisy I speak is circumscribed within a neoliberal belief that men are women, and women and men. No! Men are equal to women and women are equal to men. But Women are not men and vice versa. If a man chooses to “unduly” emphasis his manhood for the common good, then so be it. If a woman chooses to “unduly” emphasize her womanhood for the common good then so be it.
Which brings me to the story. We must not lose sight of the import of the message. Perhaps the question needs to be asked: Where are the men when AFRICOM is docked right on the Ghanaian coast? Are they busy talking about feminism? I see! Neoliberalism with its concomitant doctrines in feminism has completely pulled the wool over the eyes of African men. Instead of talking and discussing how to get AFRICOM from out of our nation, we would rather concentrate on feminism. Wonderful!
“The hypocrisy I speak is circumscribed within a neoliberal belief that men are women, and women and men. No! Men are equal to women and women are equal to men. But Women are not men and vice versa.”
Well put Solomon Azumah-Gomez. This seems to be the point that western-influenced thinkers do not want to accept. Recall that the author does not venture to describe what goes on at the women’s table. He does not have that vantage point. Indeed women can share their experiences on womanhood. But though we are all humans, there are distinct differences between men and women that cannot be blurred. While we might debate what those differences are and how widely they vary, we cannot ignore that they do exist.
And Kwame E. Bidi, it is a downright misinterpretation to belittle an aunty whose nephew stands loyally beside her. Would you not stand up for the women (or the men) in your family? Understand that when a man comes to a woman’s defense, it does not mean that the woman does not have “mental and social conditioning to confront her abuser.” Just like when a man opens the door for a woman, it does not mean the woman lacks the physical strength to open the door. The world you imagine to empower a generation of girls is more akin to a world of individualism where every woman and girl should not ask members of her community (men) to contribute but should do everything herself. This feminism is exactly the kind of ideology that leaves communities vulnerable. If no man should come to any woman’s defense, for she should confront every situation herself, then who is to stand up for a community that is violated? Should we fight as individuals or as a united group?
Plus I thought it was Narmer’s Aunty who stood up to the feudal lord first, while others stood by? I thought she was the one who decided to contact other neighbors (men, notwithstanding) to speak to the feudal lord to stop damming their water?
What this story portrays rather is the exact opposite of what Kwame E. Bidi thinks: The story gives womanhood agency like no other story I have read lately about a man.
Lol. Of course, white men are out there using same logic to deflect attn away from their privilege against all minorities. I’m talking about the social and cultural environment organized around the philosophy of “males as defacto rulers or leaders or protectors and females as subordinates, second class, followers, nurturers.” Invoking neoliberalism is a tard bit unnecessary. It undermines our personal agency and intelligence. We don’t always have to invoke these complex terms in order to think through simple social/gender issues that affect our society. I see Akosua M. Abeka and I see a natural leader. Tell me if the good people of #Ntoboama with their strict philosophy around gender roles would have a good appreciation of her leadership qualities and nurture her growth in that direction. There are social and cultural barriers that would effectively undermine her agency and define a narrow path for her. I see it in my own family. In 2016, do you think we should follow the Ntoboama style of selective gender socialization for our children? I’m not trying to divert attention from the beautiful story. I’m bringing attn to an implicit assumption and challenge that in light of the 21st century.
But Kwame E. Bidi, you invoked the simplest term – I mean “patriarchy” – to describe a complex African society of Ntoaboma. That is stupefying. There’s absolutely no way the western term, patriarchy, can capture the African society wherever it can be found. I talked about feminism as a neoliberal idea. What has Akosua M. Abeka got to do with anything? Is she not the managing editor at Grandmother Africa? Is she not leading men too?
Plus, what leadership means in Africa has been (mis)-construed by many western scholars. In my village, and I believe this happens in Ntoaboma as well, the Queenmother enstools and destools the Chief (a man). It ‘s easy to look at my village and say, the man rules. Or you can say, the woman does. Or yet, you can say, the man and the woman both rule! What has “patriarchy” go to do with this picture?
So Narmer Amenuti, while you were being raised and vested with the social capital to become a “man,” a leader, a protector etc, how was that five-year old sibling on the other side of the dining table being socialized by her womenfolks? What philosophy was she being fed on and how did that shape her growth? Is it one of empowerment and confidence or of subordination and dependence (on her men folks)? Is she also entitled to inheritance from your parents? Can we hear a story from her angle/perspective? I hope it’s womanly, courageous and inspiring like yours 🙂 Thoughts?
“Is it one of empowerment, confidence or of subordination and dependence (on her men folks)?” It’s neither nor. Put another way, this is an Either/Or Fallacy. I will take your point in good faith however. You seem to have given me an assignment – Hard Women, Soft Women, An African Dilemma in the Twenty-First Century. I will tag you when I get the chance to pen that one. 🙂
Looking forward to it, sir
Great piece! I don’t subscribe to the western feminist ideals and artificial dichotomy between patriarchy and matriarchy. Both male and females rule but in DIFFERENT SPHERES. It’s called division of labor, something western economists taught us increases economic efficiency but when applied to the family all of a sudden it loses its potency???
First of all leadership and servitude are two faces of the same coin. Who here would doubt that parents rule their children? But at the same time who would deny that parents ruling their kids is tantamount to the kids being SERVED by their parents. Don’t parents respond to almost every wish of their kids like servants? So then what are they? Are they rulers or servants? That is the problem with western cosmology; its either one or the other, never both at the same time. That’s why harmony is absent in their world because harmony necessitates that things work together rather than against each other.
I once joined a debate of a similar nature, also on an article published on grandmotherafrica (I don’t recall which, as we do very often). But what I remember saying is this: as much as I believe all humans are prone to error, I believe the negative connotation we have been induced to give our culture is in no way a reflection of what our culture really is.
Then someone asked: so how do we correct this?. I answered: those of us with the courage really need to restart writing about our own way of life void of any outside opinion and inherent dogmas. If we do, those of us who have eaten up and swallowed these dogmas often can’t resist showing how much they have taken; they are often eager to share their progressive thinking that they will never let go of an opportunity to speak up. And if they keep on like that, it will show all of us how much we have been detached from realities of own birth and ancestral places; how much we are so into other people’s realities and yet claim to be objective and progressive. I think Kwame E. Bidi just vindicated me.
What Atiga Jonas Atingdui said “That is the problem with western cosmology; its either one or the other, never both at the same time. That’s why harmony is absent in their world because harmony necessitates that things work together rather than against each other” holds much relevance. I think this is how the whole divide and conquer strategy works. So long as we are debating manhood and womanhood, this ethnic group vs. that, as if we are opposites and not part of the same whole, it becomes very easy to keep communities divided, for they never see the ways they are united. Division of labor within the household is effective but division of ideology and beliefs can wreck the entire family and community units.
Invoking Western this or Western is not some free license to freeze the mind of Afro-intellectuals from looking at their own societies with critical eye and confronting the not-so-good cultural elements (borne out of historical necessities but which have outlived their relevance in 2016). I see too much trappings of group-think or “Acute Romanticization Disorder” of pre-colonial Africa. I think it’s a lazy path that shifts every conceivable social and political ill to an actual or perceived enemy called the West. All traditional societies have had some primitive ideologies tied around gender roles, including the incredibly diverse African societies. Of course, in the era of constant wars, constant ethnic aggressions, and where wild animals roamed too close to vulnerable humans, it’s understandable that societies would be organized around the commonsense notion of macho, stoic men as protectors, leaders, warriors, elders etc and women as helpers, nurturers, subordinates, stay-at-home etc. Now that those threats have been neutralized to a large extent, and where survival has shifted from brute strength(physical) to soft strength (education), why would you somehow expect African societies to remain static and not evolve with time? I’m afraid that if anti-west becomes the central mobilizing force around which this group survives, we’d become nothing more than accomplished wailers.
So Atiga Jonas Atingdui, I prefer a society where men and women are equal in terms of opportunities for economic, career and personal advancement–in whichever way the individual defines it. A society where individuals and groups are free to pursue their dreams, and not be limited by someone’s archaic wisdom about their “rightful place” in the scheme of things. When you say division of labor what do you mean exactly in light of the 21st century? Like marry a smart, Oxford educated woman and have her stay at home, cook for you, and obey you like a child obeys their parents? Of course, that’s not to say that there are no obvious differences between the sexes or that these differences couldn’t be harnessed to compliment each other. But if your solution is to copy and paste gender ideologies from pre-colonial utopian Africa and apply it to the modern world, you’re not being realistic or practical. You’re excessively romanticizing and sleepwalking to a future that will never come.
LOL! “Now that those threats have been neutralized to a large extent, and where survival has shifted from brute strength(physical strength) to soft strength (education), why would you somehow expect African societies to remain static and not evolve with time?”
Where have you been? Do you know how AFRICOM became the occupying force in Ghana? And in 52 other African nations? Or do you think they are here to bring you education? Do you know that to get them out, you must fight? Do you know that AFRICOM is the new lion around town?
You sit there and talk about “survival has shifted from brute strength(physical strength) to soft strength (education)”. Real men are occupying your country and you are here talking about education. Good! Very good Kwame E. Bidi, they have you where they want you.
Solomon Azumah-Gomez has beaten me to a response to Kwame E. Bidi post.
Kwame your post is saturated with preconceived notions already that are very western in their coloring. That is not a crime in itself of course but it does also smack of a similar ‘romanticizing’ of western perceptions as you blame on Africans.
When you speak of the era of wars as being a relic of the past have you watched the news lately? War is more a feature of our current world than it ever was in the past. Why do you speak of threats like they are just memories of an ancient humanity??
Bra Solo, so in light of division of labor around gender, and you as a REAL MAN, as defined by your sex and socialization, what are you going to do about the threats posed by AFRICOM, for instance, and what is the appropriate role for WOMEN? I’m not discounting modern threats… I’m challenging what sex/gender got to do with it.
Kwame E. Bidi you are superimposing western gender roles on Africa. Women in traditional Africa were NEVER stay-at-home moms. The housewife is foreign to Africa. Women actually worked the field or traded.
Atiga, before we go into the semantics, can you help answer this question, “…in light of division of labor around gender, and you as a REAL MAN, as defined by your sex and socialization, what are you going to do about the threats posed by AFRICOM, for instance, and what is the appropriate role for WOMEN? I’m not discounting modern threats… I’m challenging what sex/gender got to do with it.” Thoughts?
Kwame paaa! Plus, there’s absolutely nothing I can do about AFRICOM as one Real Man, or Three Real Men, or a 1000 Real Men when we keep teaching our boys to not become Real Men and fight to maintain what they have. Education? You mean western education? That’s how they got you.
Look, Yaa Asantewaa fought them, she lost. The Amazons fought them too they lost. Whatever they believed about themselves, they still fought people who came to occupy their lands or have dominion over our lands. That was Africa. Nowhere in European history would you find such strong Women – in Asante, in Dahomey, and all around. But Africa is the place where women are kept as housewives right? Interesting.
Look, those women I have mentioned of Africa fame were more man than the men I see today. It’s pathetic to see men talk about feminism when AFRICOM occupies their land. Feminism? Yaa Asantewaa would be appalled. They never had such silly problems – gender indeed.
“…when we keep teaching our boys to not become Real Men and fight to maintain what they have. Education? You mean western education?” Two questions: 1. What are we going to teach our girls? 2. With battles being fought with technology, including unmanned drones, robots, self-directed missiles, how are our REAL MEN going to fight and win these battles without education in STEM for instance? What’s the role for our women in this?
But Kwame E. Bidi are you not engaging in some double standards here? In one of your posts above you wrote that it is UNDERSTANDABLE in the face of the ethnic conflicts, wars and wild animals that roamed the jungles that emphasis in machoism and male strenght is important. But when it comes to AFRICOM you seem not to have the same understanding. How come we can face lions and ethnic wars with machoism but with AFRICOM we have to reevaluate the situation? Why couldn’t women in the past face the lions as well? why was it ok for the women to sit and watch as their men behaved like Samson and fought lions but when it comes to AFRICOM by all means they must join otherwise we are Chauvinists??
If you were going to face a lion in an era where technology was less advanced, the physically strong had the best chance of survival. Men are physically stronger than women so men naturally became fighters. If you were going to face AFRICOM in 2016, what is your physical strength as a man going to do with it as opposed to your soft skills? And, in your ideal world, what role wold you carve out for a woman in this endeavor?
How is teaching men to become real men and fight for what they have precluding women from contributing equally to that fight? I believe that when real men defeated a lion that threatened the village, the women contributed as well – like making those men a nice meals?
Handling a sword may be a hard skill – although some of our women did some of that anyway. Cooking meals for soldiers is a soft skill. When it comes to technological warfare, let’s be circumspect.
America doesn’t virtually occupy Ghana. Do they? They are physically here. Aren’t they? Whatever war it is, it will be fought from the ground too. Whatever needs to be done to win that war is a society’s decision, not the oppressors decision. But here we are, men, debating an oppressor’s superimposition of femininity on our culture.
We must define ourselves fully!
And I also believe American soldiers at AFRICOM in Ghana are predominantly men – so much for their ideas about feminism!
Massa Kwame E. Bidi brute strength has NEVER solely won battles against nature. Do you think physical strength is all it takes to fight a lion? The lion is also physically stronger and faster than the man so man can only defeat it by employing smart strategizing. Are you saying that women couldn’t be involved in the lion-killing strategy session? Are you suggesting that the women couldn’t be involved in distracting the lion as the men threw their spears into it? Clearly, even women could have a role in the attempt to kill a lion.
In 2016, gender shouldn’t have anything to do it the way it did years ago. To me, this is commonsense. To you, this is feminism/western thought. You give too much credit to the west.
Too much credit to the west? Are u saying your points or and the ideas underlying them are neutral and objective or are u saying they are Chinese influenced?
I’d rather romantisize precolonial misconceltions than to fight with my last breathe to defend any notion of social or human phenomenon that later just simply turn around to point towards me as sub human, call me the “other”, who is not a quoequal of people who were hunting and gathering when I was long civilized. A group whose idea of culture is based on appropriating others’… who hardly show any conscience in how they acquire wealth
I take your argument in good faith. But I do think that you’re failing to see through your own subjectivity. Words like gender and feminism are not neutral and objective. They are western terminology. I also disagree that whenever someone points out redeeming characteristics of traditional Africa, they are automatically romanticizing the past. There are many things our ancestors did right. Too bad many of those writings have been burned and destroyed by our enemies. There are also things that can be amended to fit with the desires of our times. This does not mean that women and men have to blur into one indistinguishable group in 2016. Narmer Amenuti’s essay addressed how men in one village addressed manhood. By this same token,
women can address women’s roles in this century. Don’t you think to ask men “what is the appropriate role for women” you are not allowing women the proper agency to carve out a space for themselves?
I don’t think we should be arguing this point as to whether Kwame E. Bidi has a point or not. I think we should be calling Kwame’ mind to the fact that he is arguing for views that consider him unfit to, ideas based on epistemologies that see him as sub human. I often ask myself that if one is well educated and know who they really are, why would they be doing that to themselves? This to me stems largely from self hate and lack of self knowledge.
#Abena you misunderstand the point. I’m challenging them to explain/justify the macho model that they are advocating. Basically, they keep mentioning “our real men” and so I’m like, what’s the role of the women in that glorified real men’s world? The kitchen?
#Audu: I’ll just pretend I didn’t read your post. Haha. What has a simple discussion around gender role in 2016 got to do with self-hate and lack of self-knowledge? Eish! So can’t we reason/think for ourselves at all for one second? Is this the sort of reasoning you’re going to deploy to defeat western influence on Africa? You’re beginning to sound too much like Boko Haram or Yayah Djameh.
I think that Kwame E. Bidi might be raising in implicit point: What is manhood? What is African manhood? Only that he bathes this point in another quite complex idea – what should be “Womanhood”? Lest, what is African Womanhood? The two are not opposites as is usually considered in western paradigms of thought. Africa has always shunned this idea – of a dichotomy.
I do not attempt to define that in my essay. What I attempted to do was to carefully define an Ntoaboma manhood, which is a kind of African manhood. And with that, a kind of manhood we might need to confront the forces that occupy our lands and prevent a college lady in Ghana from acquiring the same fine things that western women acquire. I concede the point that there may not be one kind of manhood in Africa, or in the world, although that point could have been made without resorting to superimposing the western idea – feminism – on my Ntoaboma manhood (Abena).
That said, let me try to make sense of the issue about manhood and whether all kinds of manhood can exist alongside every other. Yes. There’s not one manhood. Indeed my Ntoaboma manhood (“real men”) stems from a culture and an environment like no other – perhaps. But I argue that this kind of manhood is much needed and should be much promoted in our upbringing of men. The reason is simple: Our lands are still occupied and we are not yet really free. The world is still a violent one and we need men who can confront it or we cannot be sovereign.
That definition does not preclude all other kinds of manhood – pastors, cooks, tailors, drummers, shoemakers – who might be necessary to equip a fighting force to uproot an AFRICOM, say, from Ghana.
But western philosophies of manhood, now entrenched in Ghanaian educational systems, promote all other kinds of manhood except the one – the Ntoaboma manhood – which we actually need for the fight to even begin. But that manhood is not the end of the definition of manhood in itself. It is however an important aspect of manhood needed to confront violence with an equal fearlessness to protect and maintain what we have. Solomon has made this point in various other dimensions.
Traditional Africa was an efficient system where this division of labor was carefully nurtured (Atiga). There were master drummers, carvers, artists, writers, and then there were soldiers and warriors. There is not one way of being a man – but all men are brought up in the same philosophy. That we do not nurture this aspect of manhood (Ntoaboma manhood) anymore is a dereliction of duty! Our lands and our freedom can only be protected by fearsome men – men who are not afraid to die for country. This is why we hope to maintain a respectable army. But our army is not respectable because “other real men” (Ntoaboma men) from America occupy this dear country while we continue to beat into our children that there’s not such thing as “being a man”. Yes there is. It’s called dying for country. It’s called doing whatever, even at the expense of life, to control and maintain your home, your family, your land, and ultimately, your country. It is called becoming an Ntoaboma man.
In fact, I have enjoyed the write-up of Narmer. His village, Ntoaboma is not different from mine – SuminakÉ›se where boys were brought up into manhood in a military way but civil. Resorting to western ideologies instead of our inborn cultural set ups has rendered our men pusillanimous men to face AFRICOM. The proliferation of western culture in our land is a threat. When men stand in protection of a woman, it does not renders the woman weak. Women are equally strong as men.