Meeting the chief

Nana (not pictured at left), the Paramount Chief of Cape Coast, sat as heavily, as solidly as if carved out of a bulk of mahogany. His head is large and bald and very black against the burst of yellow and orange in his kente cloth robe. On his face he wears an expression of supreme calm that given his large size, in excess of 200 lbs and 6 feet, translates easily to power.

Despite the line of people waiting, he has agreed to see us because, well, he needs money. And, as it happens, we have it, thanks to a group of Oregon-based supporters for whom we have played messenger. The money, we surmise based on a few clues, is to go to a refurbishment of his “palace.”

Looking at it, it’s hard to imagine the place was ever actually furbished. Time and the sea air have had their way with it, giving it less a look of royalty and more the appearance of a derelict inner-city high school.

Wallace, along with Aba, joined us for the visit, their first ever to the Paramount Chief we learn. According to Wallace, the chief needs upwards of $500 million for his project. I want to ask if he’s hoping for an appearance on Pimp My Palace.

After some pleasantries, Shawn hands him the small package. He opens it to produce a stack of photographs from a recent visit to Ghana by this Portland group, which is working on developing a sister city relationship with Cape Coast, and an envelope. From this he pulls a small wad of cash, which he counts out in front of us all: $350.

The rest of the visit is awkward and somewhat stilted, with Wallace describing the chief at one point as “a kind of god on Earth.” I’m surprised to hear Wallace speak this way given earlier remarks he’s made about religion, including an especially sharp accounting of the Mormons.

As for the chief’s otherworldly status, there is a definite presence to the man. But sitting as he is on a dilapidated, soiled couch it’s hard to see much divinity on display. One thing is certain, however, and that is that the importance of his role in the community really renders that distinction beside the point.

In a culture still very much steeped in tribal tradition, and in community in which so many are illiterate and who feel little considered by the government, the chief is the most committed advocate of the common man. The line of citizens at his gate as we exit 20 minutes later attests to that. They collect there every day, all day, even following him to his house when he returns home in the evening.

As one doesn’t ask to photograph an emissary from God, I don’t have a picture. The accompanying shot is of Shawn and our Ghanaian family, Wallace and Aba Kwaw, standing before the palace gates, unrefurbished as they are.