Of late, I have been combining some words in a way that does not make sense at all, but almost seem grammatically coherent. With these, I have also been writing stories in my head. Thinking about this worries me a lot. One such story is ‘Koo Kumi Never Knew’

Have you wondered, that during the 80’s and early 90’s, most children were sent in the evening, carrying basket of foods (mainly dinner) to be delivered to husbands staying at some distance from their wives. Such practice has since stopped due to geographical and economical readjustment. Wives have also become wiser. But after a thorough investigation, I have attributed the cancellation of this customary practice to Koo Kumi the Preacher. What is it about?

Koo Kumi was a preacher in my village, Nkonsia- Bawdie on the Kumasi to Tarkwa Road. Over the years; he has been preaching virtue and goodness to all. But for his practice, it was a matter of ‘Do not look at the messenger, just look at the message’.

K.K as he was affectionately called was broke, only surviving on meager allowances from the village Cocoa Krakye and friends. He kept on with faith, saying his reward shall be in heaven. It later became his personal signage, as friends will call out on him by the phrase ‘Your Reward’ and he will respond gladly ‘It’s in Heaven’.

He mostly used a characteristically deep voice to spread his sermon at dawn. This irritated and perhaps also infuriated some neighbours. One such begrudged neighbour was Agyakoo Kumi, the hunter/palm wine tapper

It so happened, that Koo Kumi shared the same name with Agyakoo Kumi who was married to Afia Gyanwaa the village seamstress and also touted at the best cook in Nkonsia-Bawdie. Agyakoo Kumi lived just a block away from Koo Kumi the preacher and never seemed to get on with him for various reasons. Agyakoo Kumi’s wife, Afia Gyanwaa also lived about a hundred meters away.

One early morning, Agyakoo Kumi the hunter, returned from the forest holding a big grasscutter. There was even a hot argument in the household, as to whether the grasscutter was pregnant or not. Nevertheless, the house jubilated, for it was custom for Agyakoo Kumi to always share his hunt together with the household. However, things took a twisting turn as Agyakoo Kumi, AK (his popularly abbreviated name) decided to bend the rules a little.

This time around, he announced to the house that, this particular hunt was for his birthday and shall not be shared as he usually does. Instead he shall take it to his wife, to prepare for him, his favorite mankani fufuo and groundnut soup.

This was to be decorated with the masses of large chunks of Akrantie meat! The whole place was dead silent as the housemates licked their lips, astonished to hear that AK was never going to include them in his plans for the birthday fufu and groundnut soup experience.

Evening approached, Maame Afia Gyanwaa exhibited the best cooking skill from her 18 years cooking practices. She prepared a sumptuous fufu delight. The mankani fufuo was softened to the like of Agyakoo Kumi. The soup was also made thick to the exact taste of AK.

The soup was scented and so delicious that, even the mice in Maame Afia’s room, came out from hiding to jubilate. The whole booty was placed in an attractive basket placed on the head of a 12 year old neighbour’s daughter and dispatched with earnest (Remember in Ghana, the head is used for carrying load). The instruction was clear and concise, ‘Deliver this basket to Agyakoo Kumi at his residence, he is waiting’.

Elsewhere, Agyakoo Kumi took a sip of his specially tapped palm wine first grade and was waiting calmly for his specially prepared birthday dinner.

At the other end, K.K. the preacher had returned from a tiring sermon and was resting on top of his bench placed under a shade in front of his thatched mud house. He prayed fervently to God to make this day a miracle as he wondered what to eat that evening.

Suddenly, he heard someone shouting his name and woke up immediately. Raising his eyebrows, he saw a small girl carrying a basket. He asked the girl her mission, and was given a very favorable response, “Maame Afia says I should deliver this basket to you”. He grabbed the basket on top of the girl’s head and brought it down with his hands so gently that, the ground did not even notice a weight has been placed on it. He told the little girl to deliver his heartfelt gratitude to Maame Afia, and with that the little girl left for home.

Koo Kumi the preacher removed the white lace covering and brought the oval shaped large size bowl out from the basket. He jumped with joy after seeing his favorite mankani fufuo with thick groundnut soup. Further localized on top, was lots of tennis ball sized Akrantie meat. He washed his hands earnestly, forgetting to pray. He dipped his right hand into the bowl and kept thinking what this surprise was all about.

He thought about it, saying to himself; this food might be one of the numerous miracles of God, who knows how hungry he was today. He also thought perhaps, Maame Afia; he does not seem to know her precisely, may have heard him preaching the gospel; she enjoyed it and decided to reward him with this wonderful bowl of his precise preference.

He continued in his thought, he even fantasized that, may be Ama Konadu, a woman he secretly admired since childhood, had tactically sent the small girl with a pseudo name ‘Maame Afia’ to surprise him this evening. Koo Kumi kept thinking as he delivered various sized shaped shots into his mouth with intermittent scoop of groundnut soup using his long right hand.

He consumed the food with light speed, devouring all the elements in the soup in a routinely defined order (Fufu-Meat-Soup). He will reverse this order when necessary and further crash the Akrantie bones with his upper jaws. The remainder of the soup was subdivided into three drinking parts. First he used a spoon that was placed in the basket; he wasn’t very comfortable with it.

He switched to the second method using his hands as a scoop, where he aligned his fingers to prevent the soup from leaking; he then lowered the center of gravity to form a crater in the palm. With this technique he dropped his hand into the bowl to collect soup in the hole of the hand. He brought it gingerly upwards and sent it straight into his mouth.

This method was also not so effective to satisfy his tongue budding taste. He even contemplated on using a straw, but to end it all he settled for the third method where he decided to use the ultimate and effective bowl to mouth method.

He never for once thought that, a coincidental verbal instruction to a little girl, leading her to a wrong address, is responsible for granting him his heart cravings and denying the real owner Agyakoo Kumi. With the edge of the bowl in his mouth and the bowl covering his face, he heard someone shouting towards him. As he paused to focus on where the shouting is coming from, he heard the words

“Kwasiakwa come out here right now!”

“Were you not the one who expected your reward in heaven?”

“Why do you think my Mankani Fufuo and Akrantie Nkwan could be that reward?”

“Ofui, have you ever given ‘akonhoma’ before to deserve this thick soup?”

He opened his eyes as he was on admission at the Tarkwa Government Hospital asking a nurse what really happened.

NB: The three part soup drinking methods was read from Nana Awere Damoah Facebook post on the book ‘Tickling the Ghana’ by Kofi Akpabli