Wild Winneba, or, That time I went to a cross- dressing, antelope-hunting, sacrifice festival...
2Sunday, 19 May 2013 by Renee
When we first arrived in Ghana, our orientation included a security briefing. When our security advisor found out that one of our crew was going to be based in Winneba, a small beach-side town about one to two hours west of Accra, he couldn't help relating everything in the briefing back to how boring little Winneba is, such is its reputation for tedium.
However, there is one drawcard to this quaint den of doldrums, that being Aboakyere, the annual deer hunting festival, where the Effutu of Central Coast region awake their gods and hunt antelope to sacrifice to the God Penkye Otu.
The story goes that the festival began about three hundred years ago, when a female member of the royal family was sacrificed annually to thank Penkye Otu for kindly ensuring their safe migration from the Ancient Ghana empire to the present day Ghana coast. Not suprisingly, the royal family started dying out, so the Effutu negotiated with Penkye Otu to accept a leopard instead. What were they thinking? It turns out catching a live leopard wasn't really helping the whole avoiding human death plan, so eventually Penkye Otu accepted a live antelope instead.
And that, dear readers, is how we came to be in a large field of bushes at 6am on a Saturday morning two weeks ago, surround by hundreds of Ghanaian men of all ages, dressed in women's clothing, carryings clubs and throwing around libations like it was no-one's business. We were ready to battle it out with an antelope.
By the time we had arrived, jubilating, one of the key features of the festival, was in full swing. Things had kicked off with two teams, red and white, parading around town with fetish objects like logs and whips to awaken and please the Gods. By early evening things had descended into a big street carnival, sleepy Winneba transformed into party town,with plenty of costumes, dancing and street stalls.
Jubilating carried on into the night, despite the following day's festivities beginning extremely early in the morning - locals powering through without any sleep. We were told teams start their war cries and set off into the bush around 5:30am. After a touch of jubilation we set our alarms for 5:15 and went to bed.
By 5:30am, we were ready: guys in dresses, girls in pants, but all in red, and headed out to the road to find our allies. Still dark, we found not hundreds of war-crying men as expected but four older Ghanaian gentlemen, one of them in a red ladies terry-toweling hat, but all carrying some very serious-looking clubs, and learnt that they were the extent of the team so early in the morning. Essentially, we had joined the advance party. Perhaps Friday's festivities had taken it's toll...
The journey to the Antlope-hunting site read something like the children's book "We're Going on a Bear Hunt". A four km walk through the beachside villages, along the beach, across a lagoon probably infested with Bilharzia and who knows what else, through long grass, and finally, we were in the field.
We didn't really have a plan. We knew that once an antelope was found, everyone had to run back with the antelope to the Parade Grounds 5km back in town, to present it to the cheif, who then ceremoniously steps on the antelope. Some of our crew were keen to get amongst the hunt, while others didn't want to miss out on the presentation to the chief, and others had hedged their bets and went straight to the showgrounds. We spilt, with four going off into the bushes, and seven of us planning to head back to the parade grounds to avoid having to run in the heat once the deer was caught. Good plan eh?
We had missed our chance. We found a man leading a group of younger boys all painted red, who helped us navigate the long grass. He found a clearing for the boys to sit, and ordered us to do the same. But sir, we want to go back to the showgrounds. Too late; if we went now we would confuse the proceedings. Now is the quiet time that the older men go into the bushes to locate a deer, while everyone takes up positions around the bushes, waiting for directions. Once a deer is found, then it's on for young and old, everyone making as much noise as they could to chase the deer out of he bushes, with the circle formation in theory, there to catch the deer if it escapes. We weren't going anywhere.
It turns out, that the small boys we were sitting with were very prepared for this waiting period, having brought water and snacks with them. We had neither, and having left home in the dark, hadn't eaten at all and had left sun protection at home. We also learnt that we could not cross our arms or legs, as this would stop the antelope from being caught. I'm not sure if you've ever spent a morning in a sunny field, hungry without food, in tropical heat, without sun protection or water and unable to cross your arms or legs, but I would say it's not advisable. We keep forgetting the crossing the legs thing, and people kept coming up to us, uncrossing them for us.
However, there is one drawcard to this quaint den of doldrums, that being Aboakyere, the annual deer hunting festival, where the Effutu of Central Coast region awake their gods and hunt antelope to sacrifice to the God Penkye Otu.
WITH. THEIR. BARE. HANDS.
And that, dear readers, is how we came to be in a large field of bushes at 6am on a Saturday morning two weeks ago, surround by hundreds of Ghanaian men of all ages, dressed in women's clothing, carryings clubs and throwing around libations like it was no-one's business. We were ready to battle it out with an antelope.
Jubilating carried on into the night, despite the following day's festivities beginning extremely early in the morning - locals powering through without any sleep. We were told teams start their war cries and set off into the bush around 5:30am. After a touch of jubilation we set our alarms for 5:15 and went to bed.
By 5:30am, we were ready: guys in dresses, girls in pants, but all in red, and headed out to the road to find our allies. Still dark, we found not hundreds of war-crying men as expected but four older Ghanaian gentlemen, one of them in a red ladies terry-toweling hat, but all carrying some very serious-looking clubs, and learnt that they were the extent of the team so early in the morning. Essentially, we had joined the advance party. Perhaps Friday's festivities had taken it's toll...
The journey to the Antlope-hunting site read something like the children's book "We're Going on a Bear Hunt". A four km walk through the beachside villages, along the beach, across a lagoon probably infested with Bilharzia and who knows what else, through long grass, and finally, we were in the field.
We didn't really have a plan. We knew that once an antelope was found, everyone had to run back with the antelope to the Parade Grounds 5km back in town, to present it to the cheif, who then ceremoniously steps on the antelope. Some of our crew were keen to get amongst the hunt, while others didn't want to miss out on the presentation to the chief, and others had hedged their bets and went straight to the showgrounds. We spilt, with four going off into the bushes, and seven of us planning to head back to the parade grounds to avoid having to run in the heat once the deer was caught. Good plan eh?
We had missed our chance. We found a man leading a group of younger boys all painted red, who helped us navigate the long grass. He found a clearing for the boys to sit, and ordered us to do the same. But sir, we want to go back to the showgrounds. Too late; if we went now we would confuse the proceedings. Now is the quiet time that the older men go into the bushes to locate a deer, while everyone takes up positions around the bushes, waiting for directions. Once a deer is found, then it's on for young and old, everyone making as much noise as they could to chase the deer out of he bushes, with the circle formation in theory, there to catch the deer if it escapes. We weren't going anywhere.
It turns out, that the small boys we were sitting with were very prepared for this waiting period, having brought water and snacks with them. We had neither, and having left home in the dark, hadn't eaten at all and had left sun protection at home. We also learnt that we could not cross our arms or legs, as this would stop the antelope from being caught. I'm not sure if you've ever spent a morning in a sunny field, hungry without food, in tropical heat, without sun protection or water and unable to cross your arms or legs, but I would say it's not advisable. We keep forgetting the crossing the legs thing, and people kept coming up to us, uncrossing them for us.
Needless to say it was a long morning. Just relax, we were told. If you don't relax, the deer won't come. Ok. So some of us got comfortable, lying down in the grass. Obruni, don't lie down, you must sit! There were a lot of rules to follow, but everyone was understanding of us silly, ignorant obruni and happy to explain. As we sat, more and more boys and men came along to join us in the field, until there were literally hundred of boys and men, dressed in women's clothing, covered in red mud or red or yellow paint. The white team took the other half of the field, out of our view.
At the same time, our hunting friends were getting amongst it in the bushes, the one girl Jackie being the only female amongst them. Women aren't permitted to cross the lagoon when they're menstruating, and while in previous years some women join the hunting, as the deer have gotten harder to catch, they've more or less just banned women from joining in case they lie. As a result, Jackie had more Ghanaian men asking if she was menstruating than anyone has probably ever had in their life. Obviously, the inability of men to catch a deer is the fault of women's natural cycle, right?
Meanwhile in the field, we waited, and waited and waited. Legs uncrossed.
Then the whistles and drums and horns and screaming started, and those in the bushes started moving around the outside. And then in the field, responding to a cue none of us saw or heard, there was movement...
After a a good three hours, and one false alarm - they did catch one deer but it was too small - we decided that if a deer was going to be caught, we might as well head back, get some food, and then make our way to the parade grounds. So off we headed, through the fields, grass and even larger, muddier part of the swamp, this time with added oysters to makes things interesting, back to the hostel.
When we got home, we heard news from our hunting friends, still in the bushes that both teams were conceding defeat. This year, there would be no sacrifice for Penkye Otu.
When we got home, we heard news from our hunting friends, still in the bushes that both teams were conceding defeat. This year, there would be no sacrifice for Penkye Otu.
After some food, showering and rest, we headed into to town to see how everyone was reacting to this news.
As we soon learnt, the lack of a catch didn't really seem to bother anyone, with festivities building and crowds growing. The the second day of jubilation starting with the teams parading around town led by their fetish priests, with the rest of the town in toe.
Things have been known in the past to get a bit ugly, and there was talk about the possibility of some violence emerging at this year's festival, hence this year's theme, "Peace and Unity". All celebrations took place very peacefuly, but luckily, Ghana Police were there just in case...
As the sun went down and parade scattered, things morphed into a huge street party. In what seems to be very typical Ghanaian style, the fact that the day was more or less a failure seemed to be quickly forgotten, and everyone got on with the business of some serious jubilation, the streets packed full of azonto dancing, performances, and one cedi Star beer on tap. We were happy to oblige.
Omg. What an experience! From Melinda Felder
ReplyDeleteHahaha nice one Renee. Such a good story!
ReplyDelete