Blackface is a form of theatrical makeup used by racist white performers, predominantly in the United States of America, to deceive an audience that they are Black, or that whatever they say must be believed to be of Black origins or culture.

NTOABOMA—I was on a short visit to the capital city, Accra, from my humble village when I met a gentleman. After exchanging some niceties about our collective hometowns and sharing copious biographies about our common progenitors, he decided to show me around town. His brand new V8 5.7 Liter Toyota Land Cruiser was hard to miss—not only was it all white, with a dual exhaust system, it roared like an airplane. The car was clearly imported with after-market modifications. The rubber covering on the seats had not yet been removed. The gentleman’s name was Huegbadja Hudjengor Mlagada. You could refer to him as Kofi, that is, by his soul name. He was born on a Friday. Or you could call him Gabriel, like “Angel Gabriel”—that is his baptismal name in one Presbyterian Cult outside Accra.

I shall share with you a slice of the fascinating afternoon with Huegbadja Hudjengor Mlagada. Or Kofi. No! Gabriel. We headed straight for the “highway” called Motorway, built by the first colonial clerk of neocolonial Africa, Kwame Nkrumah. I mention Nkrumah not to pick a fight with the straight-jacket colonialists of Danquah-Busia tradition, who love, above all else, to hate Nkrumah and any memory of him, but I plan to show the level of lost-consciousness plaguing the man whose middle name is Hudjengor—the name of his late great grandmother—in the same manner that Ghana’s lost consciousness of Nkrumah’s dreams haunts the country’s infrastructure. Else, how can one explain why Motorway still remains the only highway in Ghana?

Gabriel’s great grandmother was a Trornor, sort of like an African Traditional Religious priestess—meaning that she poured libation, drank Akpeteshie, had more than ten children (with three different men), prayed to her Gods, and only attempted to contact the Supreme Being not through Angel Gabriel’s childhood pal, Jesus, but through her own Ancestors and Gods. Or to Christians everywhere, she was pagan; worse, she was a devil worshipper. Or to feminist voices now parading their western craft in Africa, Hudjengor was only a drunk pagan baby machine who allowed men to abuse her body. Both of these reasons go to show that Gabriel Kofi Huegbadja Hudjengor Mlagada was, at first sight, and in name alone, a contradiction in terms.


God vs. Traffic In Accra

What a highway? About ten minutes into the sixty-year old concrete Motorway, so decorated at every inch with potholes ranging in size from a calabash to something like the size of the village well in Ntoaboma, all you could think of was whether the potholes came in the original design.

Then, we got caught up in traffic. Even a fly could not move. “Ah, Accra congestion. Jesus Christ, save us,” pleaded Gabriel, while he looked to the heavens through the windshield as if to ask God directly for help. Well, in essence, and in contrast to his great grandmother’s Tror belief system, the Presbyterian Cult he now belonged to held the unnerving belief that the Supreme Being, the Creator, could be so petty that He could be called upon to bother about man-made vehicular traffic in Accra.

However, within a few minutes, the two-lane road turned into a five lane thoroughfare. It was a sight—the magic of praying to the Supreme Being through a car windshield, wipers and all, was revealing. New lanes were quickly created on both sides of the Motorway, on the shoulders and in the bushes. The standstill became moving traffic. The sudden infusion of ingenuity [by God] into the heads of drivers on Motorway was a thing to behold.

It gave me hope that if Gabriel could actually pray [through that windshield], the IMF, the World Bank, USAFRICOM and Queen Elizabeth and her lonesome, could perhaps be called upon by God to evolve beyond their lizard inclinations, become human(e), and one day leave Ghana alone to Her own affairs. Or yet, such a prayer could lead new drivers of Ghanaian politics to emerge from the Ice Ages to lead the country on a fast-track, no matter the congestion, to newer more human(e) heights.


Understanding How The Metha Thinks

In the hustle of Accra traffic, I indulged my newfound relative. “Why did you decide on the middle name Hudjengor—I mean you could have used your grandfather’s name, Agbavitor, for example?” His explanation was full of emotions. “I am a feminist, so I decided to use a woman’s name instead of a man’s name,” replied Gabriel.  More, Hudjengor was the only parent in his family who finally supported his mother—after several meetings with teachers at the local school—to leave home for senior high boarding school. Gabriel’s grandfather did not allow boarding school for girls.

Apparently, in those “backward” days on the Slave Coast (a more appropriate name for the Gold Coast), i.e. in the fifties and prior, parents, particularly fathers prevented their girl children from going to senior high school. Most boys got the education and rose to become formidable colonial clerks—accountants, economists, statisticians, doctors, engineers, pilots, etc.—while most girls were left behind to become market women and housewives only. When the women got married they were maltreated by their academic-inferior husbands only because these men, now imperially connected to colonial wealth, largely controlled the finances in the home.

The explanation offered by pocket sociologists for this sort of African treatment of girls on the Slave Coast was straightforward: African culture valued men more than women. This is why, according to the theory, the African family gave their boys an education and refused the girls an equal chance [to share in the neocolonial cake]. This explanation—without the cake part—like honey, attracted the plumpest feminist flies from the Wild Wild West, who gathered like their fellow men, to a feast of newfound African resources, in this case to save the women of Africa from their fellow men. With this scheme in hand, the Holy Crusading feminist flies carefully sidestepped the obvious salvation African women actually needed: freedom from slavery, colonialism, neocolonialism and white supremacist international trade—that is freedom from the shackles of racist white men.

But the western feminist ideology of saving the African woman from the African man continues to blow everywhere on the continent masking the realities of white supremacist space-time imperialism.

So, according to Gabriel, and in accordance with the feminist scheme, he chose Hudjengor as his middle name not only because he revered his great grandmother, the Trornor, but that he supports a woman who was able to will herself to see through the future, against the masculine narrow-mindedness of “African culture.” Gabriel’s mother became a college graduate because of the privilege his great grandmother granted her to a colonial senior high school education even against the will of the father. This bold step made it possible for Kofi to rise past his mother to untold heights. His V8 engine is testament of this reverence for his great grandmother. This is how Gabriel sees it, and this is what he believes.


Gabriel’s Mansion vs. How The Metha Thinks

“Let me show you the house I am building,” said Gabriel as he veered off the concrete Motorway onto a dirt road that turns trucks into the craziest bulls at a bull-fight. Gabriel drove me at two kilometers per hour towards a mansion, which he was nearly about to complete on an acre of land.

What a sight! “Is this your new family house?” I asked. Gabriel laughed, “No, just for me and my wife and our lovely four children.” “Eiy! Torgbui,” I exclaimed. Gabriel could not stop laughing at my utter bewilderment.

In fact, I had never seen such a mansion up so close, let alone tour one inside and out. The mansion was designed by an “Italian” architect. The doors were all imported at a hefty price tag of five thousand dollars on average (per security door). The master-bedroom of course had two security doors leading to it and what laid behind those doors was anyone’s guess. I counted more than twenty doors. The burglar proof on the windows were imported too—I counted more than fifty windows—at a price tag of more than three thousand dollars each. The tiles on the floor were all imported from Italy or some such country. That price tag, I forget, but the garage door for four cars had been especially ordered straight from Japan!

Of all the luxurious parts of the mansion, I noticed a two-bedroom semi-detached bungalow to the main mansion. The main mansion itself had five bedrooms, including the master, a study and an office. The remaining two bedrooms in the main mansion belonged to his two older girls and one of the two-bedroom bungalows belonged to his two younger boys. Of course there was another semi-detached studio apartment for close family-guests and an extra bedroom for a maid. But the separation of the girls in the main mansion from the younger boys in the bungalow fascinated me.

“Why are the girls inside—burglar proofed and behind security doors—and the younger children, the boys, outside?” I asked Gabriel. He chuckled gleefully. “You know, as for girls, they need the protection. The boys, not so much.” He replied. “That much protection? Thousands of dollars-worth burglar proof security-door protection? From what?” I asked. Gabriel took a deep breath, looked me in the eye and placed his right hand on my shoulder, “My grandfather, Agbavito, always said, ‘If you own anything precious, as precious as girls, you would do anything to protect them, from thieves and from those naughty boys roving outside.’”

I smiled. “I sound a bit paternalistic, pardon me,” continued Gabriel. I shrugged.


Why The Feminist & The Metha Remain In Anachronistic Confusion

I figured Gabriel did not quite grasp the term paternalism. The Metha are always quick to use words they do not fully understand while feigning a conceptual understanding of it. Worse, they use words they do not quite know while pretending to know the sociological dimensions of them. Gabriel did not know that being a father to your own kids—as in protecting them from perceived harm—cannot be misconstrued as wrong. Fathering is not paternalism. It is when a man extends fathering to people who are not his children (for instance to his employees) in their supposed interest that the practice becomes paternalistic, or particularly unacceptable.

Back inside the supple-leathered seats of the fumes-blowing V8 5.7 Liter One Hundred and Twenty Thousand Dollar Toyota Land Cruiser, Gabriel Hudjengor Mlagada, for once or twice, looked me in the eye and boasted, “Now, you see why my middle name is Hudjengor? You now know why I’m a strong supporter of feminism. Look how far I have come because of the decision my great grandmother made with my mother? My own aunties who didn’t have that chance do not have children like me—with my kind of spending power! We need to value our women and educate more of them!”

Gabriel never stopped for once to comprehend his own sociological and psychological confusion. He remained incapable of reading between the lines of his own history. The Metha are victims of such paralogisms too. Like the oxymoron that is “Gabriel Hudjengor,” a name which represents the highest form of lost consciousness and which is devoid of self-assertive thinking, Gabriel had created a premise in his own head; more, he had accepted the premise as fact: that the African culture from which his mother came, the same one that I came from, under-valued women.

Which is untrue even by the standards of Gabriel’s own sententious recount of his grandfather, Agbavitor’s story about protecting at all costs what is most precious to the family—girls.

What Gabriel did not seem to appreciate was that his pocket sociology was ridden with holes larger than the potholes on Motorway. He seemed incapable of linking his feminist manhood of protecting his precious girl children inside a secured mansion to his grandfather’s traditional duty to protect his daughter from being spirited away by strangers to another town, far-far away, in the name of a colonial boarding school.

More, Gabriel and his feminist friends would gawk at the word “protection” for girls because it involves a man offering to use his muscles to protect a woman; they call it sexism, chauvinism and paternalism. But they accept “protection” when it is called “security,” that is they accept security when it involves a truck load of dollars (probably from a man), or the safety from a uniformed officer (probably a man), or the sanctuary of an imported five thousand dollar security door (probably machined by a man). Such neoliberal feminists consequently fail to realize that there could be some other reason why Gabriel’s grandfather stood against Gabriel’s mother for a senior high school education far-far away in another town, besides the white supremacist savior narrative that African men think girls inferior to boys.

The feminist Metha are victims of dimensionality for this exact reason. They cannot grasp the fact that the multi-dimensional, complex spaces of men and women in an African cultural space cannot be stripped down to some simple line in a book, some simple premise about feminism, in the same way that a person’s multi-dimensional health cannot be reduced to a one dimensional temperature reading!

But the Metha are eager to accept false premises about their own culture, especially when these false narratives come from the vaginas of European women. The Metha are also incapable of understanding that if the new colonial government in Accra, now strapped in Blackface, had actually placed a senior high school compound right at the doorsteps of Gabriel’s grandfather, he would have had no problem, at all, with sending his own daughters to the school if he could guarantee their protection from colonial brain damage and bodily harm.

The false narratives that African cultures value(d) boy’s lives more than girl’s remains an illogical apparition only inside the vulgar noblesse oblige of Western Feminists and their Blackfaces in Africa, who drive their gas-guzzling V8 engines into serene, self-sufficient African villages selling unnecessary environment-destroying outboard motors for canoes. What Gabriel, and several other Metha just like him do not seem to get is that real life in the 1950s, and prior, on the Slave Coasts of West Africa, cannot be reduced to some white supremacist, western feminist theoretical rambling about gender and feminist manifestos.

Apparently, because Gabriel drives his girl-children back and forth from school in a V8 engine, and can secure his girls inside a fortified mansion—all due to the imperialism of the lizard dollar—he seems to think that all logic emanate from the nozzles of an engine and from the vaginas of Mercedes-Benz-driving western women, rather than the carefully thought-out complexities and challenges of a father and mother in an era of slavery and colonialism, where boarding schools were imposed upon African peoples exactly because these schools were the exact means to their certain subjugation.

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~ Success is a horrible teacher. It seduces the ignorant into thinking that he can’t lose. It seduces the intellectual into thinking that he must win. Success corrupts; Only usefulness exalts. ~ WP. Narmer Amenuti (which names translate: Dances With Lions), was born by The River, deep within the heartlands of Ghana, in Ntoaboma. He is a public intellectual from the Sankoré School of Critical Theory, where he trained and was awarded the highest degree of Warrior Philosopher at the Temple of Narmer. As a Culture Critic and a Guan Rhythmmaker, he is a dilettante, a dissident and a gadfly, and he eschews promotional intellectualism. He maintains strict anonymity and invites intellectuals and lay people alike to honest debate. He reads every comment. If you enjoyed this essay and would like to support more content like this one, please pour the Ancestors some Libation in support of my next essay, or you can go bold, very bold and invoke them. Here's my CashApp: $TheRealNarmer


  1. This new essay from Narmer Amenuti on feminism is both biting and blinding. It dazes all your senses and sends them into rehabilitation. But, in the end it transforms the very nerves it touched and the very feathers it ruffled into a piece of breathing logic.

    This story—about a meeting with a gentleman in Accra who claims he’s a feminist—unravels a complete appreciation for African wisdom and beats the ignorant into an open respect for Africa’s twenty-first century challenges, coming at the back of several saddening centuries plagued by a history of slavery, colonialism and neocolonialism.

    But, as always, the more I attempt to write a fitting introduction, I spoil what should be an entertaining essay from start to finish. Enjoy!

  2. I thought the following comment from a brother in Brazil was equally fitting for this essay:

    African brothers and sisters: feminism was originally created by racists, and it has destroyed the Black communities in countries such as Brazil and the USA. Even Black Brazilian and Black American women who are feminists don’t talk about the real problems of their people, and also give their share of contribution to the maintainance of Black people’s oppression. It is fair to say that a Black feminist was brainwashed by Western society, and History shows us how the West has been treating Africa, African people and their culture. Black feminists are traitors of Blackness and are ashamed of their African roots!

    If feminism isn’t helpful to the Black community in Western countries, can anyone truly believe it can give Africans a hand?

    Congratulations on your great article, Kelvin Mulungu! I wish more Black people from the Americas could read it.

    Greetings from São Paulo

  3. I like the way after the prayers, there was a “BREAK THROUGH”… That phenomenon is at the heart of how we have come to understand God through our various levels of confusion in religion. We put our God given brains aside and wait for miracles. Then miraculously, after feeling the heat of the sun for sitting on our asses not doing anything, we pass under wire gauz, through the bush or step over other ghanaians to get to our destination. then we say Amen, a miracle has taken us to our destination. Sad!

    • Correct, hence the term, “pretty sad.” Sometimes the pretty things in life that we seek to achieve are the ones that make the majority of people sad. Pretty sad!

    • Hermann W. von Hesse, my point is straightforward: the feminist Metha is incapable of thinking through the sociological challenges of his past. For instance, he cannot comprehend that there could have been some other reason why his grandfather prevented his daughters from traveling away to a distant town for a boarding school. He seems to accept as fact that it is because the grandfather valued his boys more. Which cannot be proven.

      Hence, the Metha cannot be called upon to make sense of the context of the past let alone that of the present. He is blind to the logic of the past and hence cannot make adequate sense of the present. This link, between the past and the present, make the feminist more a contradiction in terms than a carrier of his own god-given brain.

  4. But could the prevention of the female from attending school not also be attributed, at least partially, to the role women are expected to perform? The role of a wife, mother and care-giver for the kids may not seem as one needing education. I think that is rather why some feminists take issue with the low female turnout in education.

  5. Atiga Jonas Atingdui, pardon a rather lengthy comment on the issue you raised:

    “The role of a wife, mother and care-giver for the kids may not seem as one needing education. I think that is rather why some feminists take issue with the low female turnout in education.”

    That is the angle that feminist like to confound with the idea that African cultures must think women inferior to men if they grant the man an education but not the girl. One doesn’t logically follow the other. This is why.

    The idea of education is the key here. For instance, in a fishing traditional set-up like the one I grew up in, a boy remained a student under the tutelage of a fisherman until he was 17 years old. At which point, the boy became a man and was given a house and a canoe at the rite de passage. The women remained under tutelage in the home and around the house until they matured enough to be married to their men. So, the men would fish by canoe far-far away from town and the women remained close to home. This was the norm.

    Now, that was our education, for the boy and for the girl. With the introduction of “formalized schools” of training, our traditional parents did not have a problem either with sending their children across town to a basic school. Most villages across the country had an equal representation of girls and boys at the basic school level, which was in town. Some even had more girls in many cases–where the boys weren’t eager to leave their traditional trade-schools like fishing.

    The issue arose after basic school when parents had to let go of their children to a distant land for boarding secondary schools (there were fewer high schools and only major towns had them). The traditional norm could allow the boy to roam far away from home but not the girl, for the same protections we now seek for our girls. The nature of being a fisherman back then also dictated this. But, for the girl, it was exceedingly difficult for parents to imagine sending their girls to a boarding school where they couldn’t guarantee their safety until the next vacation, 3 months later. This was a cultural shock and many parents had to find different ways to deal with the imposition. Imagine the financial expectations as well (although tuition was not a part, parents now had to dish out transportation fares and provisions for their children to and from school, while they lost that input labor at home).

    Those towns with the privilege of secondary schools had many of their girls educated in equal measure to the boys–some of the girls didn’t have to be enrolled in a boarding house. But, some villages wouldn’t let their girls go to another town. Few did. And hence the ensuing sociological effect of that foreign imposition was not difficult to understand since those boys who attended school obviously received employment (a salary) in colonial trades and hence never again needed the traditional sector. The gender gap ensued.

    However, one cannot fault the parents and the traditional set-up. To say they didn’t value girls, or that they didn’t value girl’s lives as much as boys, to me, at least from the traditions I have come from, is untrue. Our leaders in the 50s could have easily identified the sociological issue of the imposition of “formalized schools” on the traditional sector, especially the rigorous requirement of spiriting away children to boarding schools in distant lands. Our educationalists could have developed better ways of accommodating the change. But they didn’t. As an educationalist, I believe that every parent, i.e. every mother, and every father, wants the best for their daughters. I have traveled Ghana and most of West Africa and I haven’t come across one mother or father who didn’t. But to “help” people, you must understand who they are.

    Unfortunately, the colonialists, the neocolonialists and the Metha that supports them from this land are not interested really in helping people. They are above all else only interested in exploiting them. That is, they have no interest in understanding who people are or what they want. The Metha and the colonialists who fund them are interested only in the certain subjugation of the people on whom they rely to amass their riches. The colonialists set-up “formalized schools” to train colonial clerks for the certain siphoning of African resources. Else, there was need. The current issues we face with low turn outs for girls in higher education can partially be linked to this history.

  6. Narmer Amenuti I’m afraid your post is very ahistorical.
    Many forms of gender – based discrimination, lack of education opportunities and the “domestication ” of women are largely not traditional at all. Such views were at the core of Euro-Christian gender norms enforced through the colonial education system and missionary churches.

    For eg. in colonial rule in Ghana and Africa through the so-called “native customary law” enhanced the gendered status of men. Eg. Indirect rule completely marginalized queenmothers and women’s political autonomy. Because the colonialists could not comprehend the political power and autonomy of women. (I must emphasize that women did not entirely become hapless victims of male chauvinism )

    The colonial regime in Ghana and elsewhere granted male elders so much autonomy and discretion to interpret and administer customary law. These invented traditions became “tradition” and “custom”. For instance inheritance laws and so-called widowhood rights and other heinous practices were legitimized and this deeply affected many African Women in the name of some invented traditions that was convenient to colonial administration.

    Consequently Gender and social roles and men and women’s economic activities were radically shaped to conform to these so-called codified customary laws.

    Colonial and missionary education somewhat discouraged women’s education. Girl schools emphasized needlework, home science, cookery etc.
    Even as late as the 1930s my grandaunt , Matilda Joana Clerk and her family had to petition the governor to allow her to study science at Achimota. And she became Ghana’s second female doctor.
    What colonial and mussionary education did was to reinforce the roles of women as wives, mothers and homekeepers. These attributes was regarded as “proper womanhood “. These were based on European and Victorian gender norms. Same in the Belgian Congo among the so-called evalué elites.
    I can go on and on. I’m ranting.
    Your article is very misleading and inaccurate. You make too many assumptions about Ghanaian and African history not based on evidence but often misguided ideological readings of African and Ghanaian history. That’s why I’m always ‘fighting ‘ afrocentrists and black nationalists /ideologues. The historian in me is just too intolerant of such line of thinking about the African past.
    You can critique African feminism but it emerged in a context. Undestand that historical context!

    Read the historical literature on gender in Africa. For eg. EMMANUEL AKYEAMPONG and Pashington Obeng, Jean Allman (her book, I will not eat Stone: A Women’s History of Colonial Asante); Abosede George has done stuff on colonial Yórùbá.; Oyeronke Oyewumi (on the Invention of women in colonial Yórùbá society; Susan Geiger; Aili Mari Tripp, Sean Hawkins (gender in colonial northern Ghana) etc.

    I’m tired of typing

    CC. Efe Plange; Afrakomah Nketiah

  7. Hermann W. von Hesse I agree in part with your submission. I think we should not also try to paint a glamorous picture of the status women held in traditional Africa. Women were and are largely discriminated against in our African societies even before the advent of the European. It was and is a common feature for widows to suffer great ordeals in the wake of the death of their husband.

    On the issue of “domestication “, women were more domesticated than men. It would be an aberration for a husband to be seen cleaning, washing, serving guests, cooking in traditional African societies. The problem is that in order to make traditional African culture seem modern we tend to repaint a picture that is not a true or accurate reflection of what pertained in times past. We find the same academic disease going on in the field of religion where many African scholars in trying to “sanitize ” our beliefs claim that African religions aren’t polytheistic but rather monotheistic. This was done to create an affinity with the middle eastern religions when in fact those religions aren’t monotheistic either.

  8. When we try to defend the “non-domestication” of the African female in traditional society we are unwittingly falling victim to using modern European feminist ideals as our standard. It means we have unconditionally accepted that the role of a woman as a mother, wife, care-giver and nurturer is some how inferior to the role of the man. But these are simply European perceptions. The female role was one of balance: she was a home-maker but she also worked on the farm and traded. So yes she wasn’t imprisoned like the Victorian-age woman of Europe but she wasn’t the morally-unchained feminist radical either

  9. Atiga Jonas Atingdui at it a again.
    Don’t pass your opinions as historical evidence. I have summarized almost 50 years of historical research about African women for u.
    I’m not glamorizing anything.
    You are obviously not grounded in what you’re saying in your response

  10. You are resorting to your usual shield by deflecting points raised against your arguments. Deal with the issues raised and leave behind all the drama for your girlfriend please.

  11. Hermann W. von Hesse, so whatever study anyone else has done is MORE HISTORICAL than my own experiences? I don’t quite understand what is so ahistorical about my perspectives on what happened in Ntoaboma or to an Ntoaboma man in Accra. But you digress! You speak only of colonial effects on some African culture, while I speak of some African culture and how a colonial imposition may have twisted its pure intentions. Perspectives matter. There’s not one NARRATIVE. We get it. Yours neither, but I accept its import, minus that academic jargon of a literature review. Atiga’s too is very valid. These are all illustrative.

  12. Narmer Amenuti if you read Stephan Miescher’s works on how Basel Mission and German pietist ideologies shaped masculinity and gender identities and roles in Ghana’s eastern region (were your hometown, Ntoaboma is located) you will appreciate my argument.
    You make too many assumptions about the Ghanaian and African past, often without any serious historical evidence. That worries me as a historian of Africa.

  13. Atiga Jonas Atingdui I stuck with the historical evidence. I have given you a reading list. Why are you still arguing?
    Go read and come have a conversation with me about what you read.
    I’m done.

  14. Hahaha Hermann W. von Hesse remember when I gave you a reading list and references on the ethnography of Mohamedan Arabia , you insisted on continuing to argue from a place of ignorance. Today, you are referring me to further particulars? Wonders shall indeed never end

    • Atiga Jonas Atingdui I don’t read fraudulent journals and journalistic articles. You obviously can’t distinguish between peer-reviewed academic journals and fraudulent ones.

      Well I can’t blame you. You’re not a historian or an academic.
      I have given you the finest brains on the gender history in Africa.
      What again do you want?

    • Thank you Atiga Jonas Atingdui. Aka Mr. Black Muhammad!
      Keep quoting von Wuthenau and “we came before Columbus “. Hahaha

      CC. Ayelam Valentine Agaliba

  15. Hermann W. von Hesse thank you. I will read the article and thread and share my thoughts with you.

  16. Hermann W. von Hesse – You are a historian of Africa, but I am not? Which is already an assumption. I make assumptions but you don’t? Other historians don’t? In a social science, assumptions are a very important part of the process of the contextualization of issues such as gender divides in Ntoaboma and beyond. By the way, you will be surprised to learn that Ntoaboma is actually in the Brong-Ahafo Region (I can’t fault you for mistaking it for the Eastern Region for after all, what is Brong Ahafo Region?). Anyways, when I look at the story of a group of people In Ntoaboma, say, and the space-time surrounding particular events (such as that I describe in my essay), I only attempt to explain why the event happened, not whether it happened. So, of course I make assumptions. However, when were assumptions a crime in any type of science? You forget that assumptions are the only way we can make comparisons of the people, space, and place in another context to say why something may or may not occur in the same manner. This is a typical tool of historical analysis. So, why? Is it because I am not attending Wisconsin with you right now or what?

  17. Hermann W. von Hesse, additionally, I have a tiny pet-peeve with your insistence of what you seem to think is decorated academia. Not that it bothers me loads, but it tickles my fancy enough. Just stop referring me to books and so-called academic journals. It doesn’t help your argument, nor am I interested. If you cannot draw on them to make your argument then the book doesn’t exist, for after all, what must be in a such a book to learn from, if you the avid reader can’t seem capable enough, after reading it, to recall and apply any of its contents in a debate?

    Atiga Jonas Atingdui, you will be mauled at all times, and at every whim, for daring to declare, ever, that Muhammad The Prophet (May Peace Be Upon Him) may have just been Black. Or, He was Black! This is the crisis of history today. Every great part of history was white, or yet, if there was any hint that there could have been a great Black History, then never-mind. Hermann W. von Hesse will always call his side-chick Valentine to his bed to have actual Eurocentric intercourse over what they deem to be Afrocentric. As if that were not enough, they would ejaculate over anything that does not fit neatly into the tidy structure of white supremacist interpretation of history. They have themselves to arouse for it. So the closeness of the two just reminds me of Valentine’s last victim, his last catamite – Prof. Dr. Tweneboah.

  18. Narmer Amenuti as for Hermann W. von Hesse case, I think we must contribute $5000 for ICGC to pray for him. I have dared him , time without number, to prove that my sources are wrong or that the documents I present are inaccurate about the ethnography of Arabia during the time of the Prophet . I am yet to hear from him. He would rather just simply call on his side-kick in a rather futile incestuous relationship without any fruits.

  19. When those within the four walls of an academic institution cannot enjoy a lasting debate, they resort to four things:

    1. They claim professionalism, and label you a novice of the trade of analysis in question.
    2. Then, they proceed to denounce your sources as not professional, and label them fraudulent or fake.
    3. Once the professionalization of their work, and not yours, has been made clear, they proceed to label you a novice to the game, or worse, a quack, a fraud.
    4. They group-up with all their fellow catamites and masturbate and ejaculate all over you and anyone within reach. It’s a tense moment they have to let go and so they do.

    All that goes to prove is that, because Herman and Valentine are fond of academia they are new-comers who practice the four points above like monks. What they can’t seem to realize is this:

    1. I have been there.
    2. Professionalization of work and research doesn’t bother me.
    3. Calling me fraudulent indicates that a tense moment has arisen within the “professionalized” circle. Which goes to prove the point. A paradimg has been ruffled. And the old paradigms must be defended like Warrior Lovers defend their Lovers. Such is white supremacist history.
    4. Ejaculates slip off my body. That is, I am a Priest, from the Cult of the Black Flag of Ntoaboma. I turn everything to dust, even ejaculate.

    All which go without saying that the Eurocentric catamites must needs try a radical approach, for what do you call a group of lovers who continue to have actual intercourse, in a bid to have a baby that sticks around, without ever producing an actual baby? Barren!

  20. Narmer Amenuti and Atiga Jonas Atingdui”You’re as loud as a drum but as empty ” ( Akan / Gã proverb )
    I’m done with nutcases like u

  21. You Narmer Amenuti or whatever you call your self you’re very funny.

    Stop your clueless rants you’re disgracing yourself.

    Next time when you publish your nonsense on your grandmother Africa know that there are discerning Ghanaians like my self who will slay u intellectually.
    Do you think you’re the epitome of knowledge or what?

    Didn’t I rebut your nonsense then u turn around and accuse Mr of supporting white supremacy. What nonsense.

    Read my rebuttal and see who’s supporting Euro-Christian and Victorian gender norms and stereotypes.

    You’re such a nutcase.
    You’ll never learn. You thrive on vane rhethoric for effect.
    “You’re loud as a drum but as empty” (Akan/Gã proverb)

    You sef u no be correct!

  22. Argue on substance and evidence not on the basis of your warped and misguided ideology and name-calling.
    If you’re man enough nxt time reveal your identity and don’t hide behind a pseudonym.

  23. All I did was tell a story and I gave my interpretation of the experience. This one too, I kill your Mother? Eiy, “intellectuals” today paaa! But, the Metha are incapable of understanding that everyone doesn’t think like them. When they encounter anyone who thinks, contrary to their beliefs, the Metha are up in arms — like a bunch of ignorant humans ready to shoot down an alien aircraft because it is foreign! Up, literally, in actual weapons to shame and belittle. This, I am very aware. The Metha doesn’t understand that one cannot reduce a Human Being to single ideas, let alone ideas that one may disagree with, in the same way that the Metha cannot understand that a temperature reading is just one dimensional reading of the billion-dimensional health of a person.

    Herman, it is morning, go to class. You will be late oh!

    • Go to Accra Mall and try “Paradiso Dark” coffee, without sugar or milk, from that Canadian Coffee shop there. They are siphoning out our juices dry, but boy, the coffee replacement, however inferior to our juices, is something. Try it, with the fruit cake, for it might become your spot and maybe one day (if I feel like giving some aid to Canada’s economy), we might meet there. LOL.

  24. Dear Feminists and The More Educated Than His Ancestors (the Metha),

    In Ntoaboma tradition, the human being is both matter and anti-matter. The human body is a physical representation of the soul/spirit. We reject Darwin’s soulless spontaneous unintelligent evolution of the human being from dirt, water and fire.

    In the same way, upward from that building block, a Home must exhibit this duality: the physical manifestation (men) and the soulful/spiritual manifestation (women), all things being equal (Maat).

    It has nothing to do with who boils the yam or who grinds the pepper. Or who buys the car, or pays the bills, or who opens the door, per se. Such things are left for your own time-conscious culturally relevant self-asserting interpretations. That is, whatever works for you and your husband, and you and your people to survive the waves of demonic attacks from Europe—irrespective of the murmurs of a few who cannot see the bigger picture.

    You get carried away too much with charging African tradition for every stupid interpretation of the duality within the cultures of nincompoops. First understand that we reject Darwin’s nonsense, and second we attempt to forge society based upon our assumptions of the universe (not yours)—not on spontaneous unintelligent fashionable roles. Sue us, but at least we know we are different from you and we are the ones who are trying our very best to stay in complete balance with Mother Nature.

    On the other hand you are the ones destroying Her with your toys manufactured in actual chemical life-destroying factories! If that is not the largest violation of your so-called feminist ideals then I can’t be sure about your sanity. But, oh I get it, you don’t even believe, as we do in Ntoaboma that the Earth is Asaase Yaa, Asaase Efua, Mother—the giver of life/soul/spirit! You think the Earth is male, or, you think it is nothing! So, never mind.


  25. Hmm, can we really blame him. I grew up knowing nothing about our history and supporting the ideology as taught in the heart of the most important stage of ones development (High schools). I only woke up, after leaving the shores of my country where books i am not suppose to see and afford became available to my eyes and my confused mind. Shocked me at first, sent me reeling for many days, rejected it with self confidence, but like all truths, it out runs my thoughts, overwhelm and drenched me with information i cannot handle. But gradually, and behold, i emerged forged into an instrument that sees through the charades, spot the unseen hands, the untold stories, behind an beyond the niceties of the glamour of their devious plans. Hope you understand. A fine piece you produced there hopefully people would learn. Don Pepe


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