Later in the morning, I rode with Pok up to the chief’s palace to request permission to begin work in Yua. The compound is not really a “palace”, nor does it actually house a “chief”. In fact, the village of Yua has not had a chief in at least 20 years. When the last chief died, it was the responsibility of his house to organize the ceremony to appoint the new chief. Now, whether they couldn’t afford to perform the ceremony or they didn’t want the chieftaincy to leave the house, I cannot say for certain. We only know that the ceremony was never performed. Every time we came they would tell us the chief was ill, or that he was in the South. It was not until our third visit that we actually discovered he doesn’t exist. The people had been holding fast to the tradition of not mentioning to outsiders of the absence of a chief. Historically, if a village was known to be without a chief, then a rival tribe might move in to seize control over it.
It’s still a sign of respect to ask permission from the elders of the chief’s palace before entering the village. In the past, we have presented them with gifts from the local market such as gin and kola nuts. This time though, I felt it would be more appropriate to present them with some traditional American luxuries instead. I presented them with a box of homemade brownies, a pack of cigars, and one bottle of fine Tennessee Whiskey.
Next, we met with the construction team that will work with us on the clinic site. More than thirty people have volunteered to help with the building. We won’t pay them directly for their help; their labor is their contribution to the project. We will only pay for their meals during working hours to keep them strong. The people will begin gathering rocks for the concrete and piling them at the site.
We then made our way down to the neighboring village of Kindiga, where a large funeral ceremony was taking place. It just happens that the funeral was being held for the father-in-law of the DCE (District Chief Executive). After proper introductions, we spoke to him about acquiring tools and a tractor for the construction site. We’ll receive an answer when we meet with him in Navrongo on Monday.
On the way out we observed a group of men carrying around a large ornamental stone. I asked one of the men at the ceremony what it was for. He explained that a man in the community is entitled to his own grave if he has reached a “ripe” age at the time of his death. Once the new grave is dug, a stone will be placed on top to mark its location. The man’s family will then be buried with him under the same stone as they too pass on. This man has earned his own stone.
-John Yatsko
