Asafo Safo: Chapter 1

Annankrom, was the most miserable of the seven villages hidden by the three great mountains. It’s ruler, Annan was a tyrant and a very different man from the bright eyed idealist who protected his people and led them away from a land engulfed in civil war. However, no sooner had he become chief than he became the type of ruler his people had fled from.

He seized most of the land from his people, forcing them to survive in harsh conditions and to work on land that was hardly any good for farming. Most of them were forced to work in the mines, both young and old. There were also rumours, that he hunted those he perceived to be a threat to his rule in his private forest reserve.

So Tawia, a farmer, whose harvest had failed yet again, was upset when his son decided to become one of the asafo as many of them enforced the chief’s rule. ‘The asafo are only interested in hurting people and enforcing Annan’s laws’, he said in hushed tones. Like most people, he was aware of the extensive nkwansrafo (spy) network present in the village. Any wrong words said and one could vanish in the dark of the night. Permanently.

‘Someone has to do it. The asafo’s numbers have dimisihed since the last year. If recruitment doesn’t take place soon, the village wil have less security and order.’ replied Safo.

‘Those are Takyiwaa’s words.’ Tawia mused. ‘ She is one of the few asafoakyer (female asafo captain) who actually performs her duties.’

‘Alright, son, you have my blessing,’

‘Thank you, father but before I leave, there is someone I must see’.

Amoawa, at the age of 13 was known as the toughest person in the village. She had defeated thieves, bandits and even sadistic asafo singlehandedly. Some people viewed her as a threat to the role of Annan. She was the one that Safo had come to see. ‘Teach me how to fight, so that I can be more than an average asafo’ he told her.

Amoawa simply stared at him. Such a request from someone three years older than her was unusual. She sighed,’Alright, help me bring in the harvest and then I’ll teach you’. After gathering the harvest, she led him to a clearing in her farm, sunk into an offensive stance and before Safo could react, punched him in the throat.

Safo stumbled backwards, coughing profusely. She waited for him to stand up, then darted towards him, her fist looming large in the field of her vision. He scrambled away from her, his hands raised to defend himself. She swung her fists repeatedly, and as he blocked them, struck him with a low sweep of her right foot.

He rolled away to regain his balance and made a low sweep with his own foot, which she deftly sidestepped. He panted heavily, sweat streaking down his face.

‘Are you alright’? asked Amoawa.

‘Fine, just don’t hit me in the throat again’.

She leapt at him, left leg outstretched and aimed at his chest. He dodged the attack and spun towards her, his left leg swinging towards her belly. Before she could grab it, he placed his right hand on the ground and swung his left leg away, moving his right leg to kick her belly. She barely moved an inch.

‘Good, she said.’ Anticipate your opponent’s attacks’.

He went on the offensive, throwing several punches which she sidestepped. He watched her closely, moving in rythmn to her steps. This allowed him to sidestep her own punches. Eventually he dodged her kicks and brushed her wrists aside, deflecting her punches as the day progressed before butting her head with his own.

She stumbled once, then made two headbutts of her own, sending him sprawling backwards. He shook his head and rolled away, regaining his balance as she stamped the spot on the ground where he had lain seconds earlier. She made three successive ground sweeps with her legs, forcing him to somersault backwards.

She then made several high kicks aimed at his chest, each of which he sidestepped. He swung a blow at her but she caught it, clutched his right arm and pulled, sending him flying above her shoulder and into the dirt. He pushed himself onto his feet, spun away from her kicks and struck her twice in the chest, causing her to stumble backwards, before regaining her balance.

He leapt at her, his fist aimed at her throat. She raised her hand and blocked the blow. She shoved his arm backwards and raised her hand, above her head, signaling that they should stop.

‘Haven’t you noticed, Safo? It’s nighttime.’ She said causing Safo to look up into the blackness of the night sky.

‘See you here tomorrow morning, Asafo Safo’

For two weeks, he showed up at her farm every morning and left in the evening, rubbing herbal leaves on his arms and legs to ease the pain. One rainy day, he showed up at the same time, ignoring the downpour. They both sunk into offensive stances and as lightning flashed across the sky, darted at each other.

Safo swung a right fist at her, but she brushed it aside and swung at his chest with her leg. He twisted his body away from the kick, spinning to the left of her leg and struck her at the side with an outstretched palm. She swung her fists at him repeatedly but he bobbed and weaved away from her puches. He ducked two punches and struck her repeatedly with open palms.

She skidded across the wet floor, stopping in time to see him leaping towards her, his fist aimed at her head. She caught it and tugged at it, drawing him close and hit his chest with both palms, sending him backwards. He recovered and sped towards her , rapidly shifting his position from left to right. She followed his movements closely, trying to determine the direction from which he would attack and spun towards him, her right foot aimed at his shoulder. He blocked the foot with his own foot and blocked each blow with his palm. He caught both fists in his hands and shoved her backwards.

She stumbled backwards and then regained her balance. ‘Alright, I’ve nothing else to teach you. Takyiwaa has returned to the village. If you hurry, you can meet her before the curfew.’’

‘Thank you, Wura (Master) Amoawa. ‘See you soon’ said Safo before dashing off into the bushes, taking a short cut through the forest that would lead him to the huts of Takyiwaa’s asafo company. As the rain continued to fall in torrents, Amoawa sighed ‘Don’t make me regret this, when you become an asafo, Safo’

An arrow whizzed through the air and Amoawa instinctively spun away from its path but then two more arrows struck her in the arms. Four arrows tore through her legs and eight more pierced her back. She fell on her belly in pain. She heard rustling in the bushes around her and watched as several asafo, bow and arrows drawn approached her cautiously led by two women from two special branches of the asafo. One bore the traditional attire of a priestess and the other wore the somber black of the )brafo) (state executioner).

The priestess whispered into the ear of the baby faced )brafo), causing her to glance at Amoawa briefly before bringing her sandaled foot on her head, sending Amoawa into darkness.

‘Take her to the forest with the others’ the priestess ordered. ‘Today is the day of the chief’s sacred hunt’.

Amoawa regained consciousness and found herself lying on the forest floor with four other people. She also noticed with a sickening feeling that her body was still pierced with arrows. She pulled them out quickly, ignoring the searing pain this caused and examined those around her.

She recognized one as a market woman who openly protested against the chief every market day. The second was an panin (elder) named Takyi, the third was an okuani (farmer) like her and the fourth the osuani of an akodze maker. She heard the rustle of bushes nearby and hurriedly roused the others.

They were alarmed and afraid, but she insisted that they calm down and follow her. They crouched low beneath the tall grass, moving on hands and feet as agroup of asafo led by Annan, a priestess and an )brafo) emerged from the bushes and began to search for them.

Annan drew out an arrow from his quiver and clutched the string of his bow, waiting for the slightest noise to be made by his prey. Amoawa peeked above the grass and told them to stop moving. She noted that the path ahead of them was strewn with dry leaves and that merely touching them would reveal their location.

She sought out a different path and motioned for them to follow her. For hours, they moved this way until nighttime fell and she realized that their pursuers were gone. She stretched out her limbs in silence and listened to the rest as they narrated to each other how they had arrived at the forest.

‘I was taken at night, from my family’ recounted Takyi. ‘If the rumours are true, none of us will survive this hunt’.

‘A panin should not speak that way’ she sighed. ‘I’ve heard the rumours too. ‘To satisfy his bloodlust and that of the priests, the chief annually hunts down randomly selected people in a forest from which there is no escape’. ‘ Those who do not die by the arrow perish through hunger and starvation.’

The osuani plucked a berry from a young plant and was about to eat it when Amoawa threw a pebble at it, bursting it. ‘Every fruit here is poisonous which is why some died of hunger’ she warned as she tore off pieces of her dress and began to wrap them around her wounds until half of her body was covered.

‘The stream’s too close to low lying grass. Taking a drink there in the day time would leave one easily exposed. Drinking at night should be done carefully, because of the wolves that hunt at night’.

They looked at her with respect, despite her young age. ‘What is your name, child?’

‘Amoawa Amankwaa (Amankwaa meaning Servant of the people). Today is my 14th birthday and I’m a farmer’.

The next three days were eventful. Annan’s priestess blew a hallucinogenic powder across the grass but the prey held their breath for seven minutes, having been trained to do so by Amoawa the previous night. When the weather became very hot, she waited for the first signs of complacency and impatience among the asafo.