Ama (36 page)

“Augusta,” De Bruyn called back, “Captain Williams asks what that smell is.”

“Stinking fish,” she replied, thinking,
he knows very well what it is. Why does he ask me?

“Well, I have to admit that there are parts of London which smell as bad,” said Williams.

Augusta had dressed for the occasion. It was a singular honour for her to conduct the Director-General and his guest to the town. A small striped parasol protected her from the sun.

Ama was more simply dressed, in the same style but without the costly jewellery worn by the older woman. Though the slaves of the townspeople went bareheaded, Ama wore a headcloth. She walked a respectful step behind Augusta.

“Walk by my side, child, in the shade of the umbrella. You may be a slave but you are after all the Director's slave, and almost his wife. Behave like a free woman and perhaps you will soon be one.”

“Maame Augusta, I am nervous,” said Ama.

“Nervous? About what?”

“Maame, I have spent the past year in Mijn Heer's apartment. This morning is the first time I have been out. I am nervous about what your people will think of me.”

“Don't be silly. You just keep close to me. Nobody will trouble you.”

They had passed the open parade ground and were entering the wide street which led to the market square. De Bruyn, deep in conversation with Williams, looked round and waved. The women waved back.

“Maame,” said Ama, “I saw the slaves arrive.”

“Well?”

“I watched them with Mijn Heer's telescope. I looked at their faces, one by one, as they came up from the bridge.”

Augusta turned her head to look at Ama.

“And so?” she asked coolly.

She had an uncomfortable foreboding of what was to come.

“They were dirty and exhausted, especially the men, from carrying those heavy chains around their ankles.”

“We always give them food and water when they arrive. Then they have a bath and we give them palm oil for their skin. Did you see them the next day, before they were taken to the castle?”

“No,” replied Ama, and continued, “when
we
arrived, we were taken straight into the castle.”

“That was because you had already been sold,” replied Augusta.

“Maame, they were very sad.”

“Yes?” replied Augusta.

“Maame, where are they now?”

“In the castle dungeons, no doubt,” replied Augusta.

“Maame, is it not wicked to treat human beings like that? I mean to chain them as if they were animals and then sell them to the Europeans? Are they not our own people, our own brothers and sisters?”

“Young woman, that is dangerous talk. I hope you do not talk such words to Mijn Heer.”

“Maame, I am sorry if I have offended you, but when I looked at their faces, it was my own face I saw. It was as if I were looking into a mirror. Since then my sleep has been disturbed. I have had bad dreams.”

“Ama, you must stop this talk at once. Let me tell you something. Three hundred slaves arrived. One hundred of those belonged to the King, whom you will see presently. Of the balance, sixty were mine and another twenty were for my husband. I made a special journey to the market at Simbew to buy them from the Asante. All three hundred have been delivered to the castle, but we, the suppliers, have yet to be paid. Mijn Heer says he must sell them before he settles his accounts with us. That is how we have always done business together. If you had ever been in trade, you would know the importance of giving credit to good customers. I do not distrust him. However, the sooner he sells them and settles his accounts, the better for all of us here.

“Mijn Heer is trying to persuade this English captain, Williams, to fill his ship with slaves from Elmina. If he is successful, we will be paid at once. That is why I have invited the two of them to visit our town and why, as you will see, we are showing Williams such special hospitality. The King himself will welcome Williams. He does not do that for every white captain who drops anchor at Elmina, believe me. But of course Nana has an even larger stake in this transaction than I have. It is important for us to make Williams feel good so that he will agree to buy many slaves.

“Have you understood what I have been telling you? Now, I do not want you to spoil everything by making speeches about your sympathy for the slaves. Do you think we are not also sorry for them? I don't need you to tell me that they are human beings, even if I would not go so far as to call them my brothers and sisters. But every one of them has done something to deserve his fate. Some have been defeated in war, others have fallen into debt, or been forfeited as pawns and so on. Some have even been sold into slavery by their own parents. That is life. In Edina we depend on this trade for our livelihood. Where do you think I get the gold dust to buy these clothes, these ornaments? I will tell you. My profit from trade in cloth and other merchandise is nothing to me by comparison with what I make from trading in slaves.

“I hope I have made myself clear. I am sorry to have to speak to you so harshly, but I must warn you to speak no more of a matter concerning which you are ignorant and which, moreover, is none of your business.”

She turned her angry face away. Ama's mind was in a turmoil. She felt humiliated, wrung out like a damp piece of cloth. She bowed her head. There was nothing she could do but apologise. She was near to tears. She bit her lip.

She said, “Maame, I beg you. I am sorry. I will not talk of this again.”

Augusta looked at her and saw her distress.

“I did not mean that you should never talk to me about the slave trade. If it troubles you, you may talk. But only at a proper time and at a proper place. Now wipe the tears from your eyes and smile at me.”

* * *

Two male slaves, heads shaven, bare to the waist, each armed with a spear, stood guard at the gate of the palace. They greeted Augusta respectfully as the party approached.

“Now, Ama,” said Augusta, “forget that you are a slave. As far as we are concerned, you are the Director's wife.”

They passed through a covered porch into a single storied courtyard and then through a short passage into an enclosed quadrangle. Here the King held court with his elders each day except Tuesday, which was the day set aside for Tweneboa, the spirit of the Benya.

Opposite the entrance, on the far side of the courtyard, the elders, wing chiefs and family heads sat on stools under an awning. They were dressed in colourful calico prints, folded and wrapped calf-length around the waist. Each wore a necklace of beads and most a cap of deerskin or a European hat.

The King was at the centre, the only one seated on a chair, He alone wore his cloth over his shoulder. It was rich plain red velvet A heavy gold necklace, several gold bracelets on each arm and rings of the same material on every finger evidenced his status. His sandals, too, were encrusted with gold. An enormous red and green umbrella, embroidered with gold thread, gave him shade.

“
Àgòo!
” called Augusta, announcing their presence and asking permission to enter.

“
Amêê
,” came the acknowledgement from her husband, who was the
Omankyeame
, the official spokesman of the King.

Augusta led the visitors in single file to perform the customary greetings. Facing their hosts palm to palm from the right, the visitors shook hands with each of the elders in turn.

“Your Majesty,” said De Bruyn in Dutch, “I hope you are well.”

“Thank you,” replied the King in the same language.

Chairs had been arranged under another awning on the opposite side of the courtyard. When the visitors were seated, slaves brought them palm wine.

Then the elders rose and threw their cloths over their left shoulders. The Omankyeame, his staff of office in his hand, led the King, followed by his umbrella bearer and the others to shake hands with the visitors. The slave attendants turned the elders' stools, and the King's chair, on their sides as they rose, setting them right only when their owners returned.

When they had again taken their seats and adjusted their cloths, the Omankyeame stood up and spoke in Fanti. He welcomed the visitors on behalf of the King and asked the purpose of their visit. Augusta translated this into Dutch for De Bruyn and De Bruyn translated into English for Williams. Then Augusta stood up and spoke, also in Fanti.

“Nana and respected nobles,” she said, “we bring you no ill tidings.”

There was a murmur of acknowledgement.

“His Excellency the Director-General of the Dutch company, Mijn Heer De Bruyn,” she continued, “is well known to you. He asks me to greet the King on his behalf and wish him well.”

She paused for her husband, the Omankyeame, to speak.

“Nana,” he said, turning to the King, “the woman says that the visitors do not bring any bad news. She says that the Director greets you.”

“This young woman is his wife,” Augusta continued. “Her name is Ama Donko and her Dutch name is Pamela.”

Another murmur.

“She speaks the Asante and Fanti languages. She can read and write in English as well as any white man.”

The elders had heard about Ama, but this was the first time they had seen her.

“She can read and write in English as well as any white man,” each repeated to his neighbour, nodding sagely.

Ama bowed her head in modesty. She had not expected this.

“Nana,” the Omankyeame told the King, “she says the young woman is the wife of the Director. She says that this young woman can read and write in the language of the English.”

“This gentleman is called David Williams,” continued Augusta. “He is an Englishman and is the Captain of the ship which is lying offshore at present. We know that the Dutch and the English are rivals, but, in spite of this, the Captain is an old friend of the Director-General. He has come to our country to buy slaves. His holds are empty and he can accommodate as many as four hundred in his ship. Since he speaks only English, he has asked me to greet you, Nana, and to bring you the friendly greetings of the English King.”

The Omankyeame told the King what his wife had said.

“Omankyeame,” said Augusta, “the Director has brought Nana one anker of the best French brandy and a parcel of Brazilian tobacco and begs you to accept these gifts as a token of his esteem and that of Captain Williams.”

“The King thanks the Director and the Captain and is pleased to accept his gift,” said the Omankyeame.

Augusta signalled to Vroom and Kobina to deliver the gifts.

While she was telling De Bruyn what she had said to the King, more or less; and De Bruyn was translating for Williams, the Omankyeame again led the King and the elders to shake their hands to express his thanks.

When they had resumed their seats, the Omankyeame held out a pewter mug. A slave extracted the bung from the keg and filled the vessel with brandy. Adjusting his cloth with one hand, the Omankyeame poured a little of the drink onto the ground before him.

“Gods of the silent world,” he intoned, “we are here. Tweneboa, spirit of Benya, greatest of the seventy seven gods of our nation, we greet you. Let gold flow. Let the sea and the lagoon be abundant with fish and the forest with game. We beseech you. Let the heavens give us rain and the soil give us food. Let there be peace and prosperity for all.

“Nana Kwa Amankwaa, founder of our nation, and all the great kings who have ruled us since and have gone before us: the King and elders of Edina greet you. We beg you to share this drink with us.”

He poured some more of the liquor from the mug. The brandy soaked into the dry ground.

“We are gathered here today, the King and elders of the people of Edina, to welcome the white visitors, the chief of the castle and the captain of the ship who has come from over the sea to buy slaves. We have sold so many slaves to the Dutchman that his dungeons are full. Yet he says he cannot pay us until he, in turn, has sold the slaves to the white visitor. The captain has an empty ship. We beg you to use your powers to persuade the captain to fill his ship from the Dutchman's dungeons.”

Another decantation.

“I have spoken what the King has commanded,” he said and emptied the mug.

The vessel was refilled and passed from elder to elder. Each took a draft. Four glasses of the brandy were sent across for the visitors. Mijn Heer and Williams threw back their heads and poured down the drink. Ama took a sip. It burnt her throat and brought tears to her eyes.

The King was consulting the Omankyeame. Several elders gathered around them.

The Omankyeame stepped forward and spoke again.

“Woman,” he said to Augusta, “Nana has instructed me to tell the white men that they are welcome and that their visit does him honour.”

He paused for her to interpret.

“You have told us that the Captain has come to our country to buy slaves.”

Again he paused.

“You should tell him that it is we who have supplied many of the slaves which the Director will sell to the Captain. The King assures him that these slaves are of the highest quality, healthy, strong and, above all, submissive to the will of their masters. The King says that he will be happy if the Captain will fill his holds with slaves from Elmina and so shorten his stay in these parts which are so unhealthy for white men.”

Augusta was not sure that Williams would react favourably to this pressure.

“This is what the King's linguist says,” she warned De Bruyn in Dutch, “but you might not want to translate all of it for the visitor.”

“What does he say?” asked Williams, who was beginning to be bored by the tedious ceremonial, from which he was excluded.

“The King asks you to convey his highest regards to the King of England,” De Bruyn replied, agreeing with Augusta's assessment, “and to assure him of the King's ability to supply to him as many slaves of the highest quality as His Majesty might require.”