Even though not a member of the Anglican Church, he had been invited to act as chairman of the annual Harvest Festival. This was one of the great social occasions which custom required to be chaired by a person of distinction. Kofi Sika had been invited because he was undoubtedly the richest man in the village. In addition to owning a cocoa farm and a palm oil plantation, he was also the money lender. This was a very lucrative business, with interest charged at fifty percent a year, or for a part of a year if repayment was not made on the due date.
Not only was Kofi rich, he was also a very proud man who lost no opportunity of making his importance felt. Usually, he was the last person to arrive at a meeting. When shaking hands, he would turn his head away and never smile, as though this simple act of friendship was a somewhat painful experience.
When the catechist called to confirm the invitation to be chairman, Yaa Saa, his wife, answered the door. Kofi listened in to the conversation without being seen, and sent his little boy, Ata, to tell his wife to say he was not in. The catechist called the next day, and was told that Kofi was sleeping and could not be disturbed. But the catechist persisted, and when he called on the third occasion, Yaa Saa was out of the house and Kofi opened the door himself.
"I'm just having a wash" he said. "Sit down and wait."
Eventually, he asked the essential question to start the business in hand.
"What is your mission?"
The catechist responded: "You may remember that I first spoke to you about three months ago to invite you to be the chairman at the Harvest Festival. You haven't yet replied. The Festival is next Sunday. Will you be able to come?"
"I've not been feeling too well lately" said Kofi, "but I'll try to make it if I can."
The Harvest Festival was one of the important occasions in the life of the village, with a choir, organ music, processions and the village band to support the joyous gathering.
The main ceremonial duty of the chairman was to auction two symbolic items of no intrinsic value; a glass of water and a tray of earth, the acquisition of which is a great honour. If the Chief were present, he would bid for the earth leaving the chairman to outbid the members of the congregation for the glass of water. Then the donated fruit and vegetables would be auctioned to raise money for church funds. In the past, no one had bid more than three pounds for the earth or the glass of water. So Kofi resolved to go up to five pounds for each item - confident that no one would be able to outbid him.
These thoughts passed through Kofi's head as the storm raged and the thunderous voices of the gods echoed around the sky. The fresh, sweet smell caused by the torrential rain as it hit the parched ground wafted in through the louvres of the bedroom windows. The continuous high-pitched shrilling of the crickets was interrupted by the cock crow as Kofi Sika dropped off to sleep, feeling proud and contented.
Ata was Kofi's youngest son, only seven years old. He could be really useful in doing small jobs, and was not old enough to query anything his father told him. Ata was very happy to collect water each morning from the storage tank, with the padlock on its tap, which had been connected to the gutters at the back of the house. This was so different from going to the river which was woman's work. The Sika's house was the only one in the village that had a storage tank to collect rain water from the roof.
On the morning of the Harvest Festival, Ata was given a special job. A kente cloth would naturally be worn by any man of standing at such a ceremony. So Kofi called out to Ata:
"Collect my kente and hang it and sun it. Then beat the cloth with your hand to remove the dust and dirt."
Ata set about his work enthusiastically - perhaps too enthusiastically! The magnificent Ashanti kente cloths are woven in narrow patterned strips, which are sewn together to make the cloth. Unfortunately, during the energetic beating, some of the seams came undone. Ata was worried when he brought the cloth into the house.
"Papa, when I was beating the kente cloth, I noticed that it had some holes in it."
"You clumsy boy. Don't you know I need that cloth this afternoon? Fetch your mother here at once."
Yaa Saa came immediately. Pointing to the kente Kofi said:
"Look at what your son has done. Fetch a needle and mend this right away."
Yaa Saa went to the brass jar in her bedroom where she kept her ear-rings, buttons, pins, cotton, thread and needle. But then she remembered:
"My sister Akua came round to borrow the needle."
"Ata" called Kofi, "go at once to Akua and bring back the needle."
Ata came running back and reported breathlessly to his father that Akua could not find the needle.
"You irresponsible woman. You don't take care of anything in my house" the enraged Kofi shouted at his wife.
But Yaa Saa had a suggestion. "Kwabena Boa, our friend next door, is a tailor. Should I go and borrow a needle from him?"
"Definitely not" said Kofi. "I can't beg from a wretched man who doesn't even pay his debts on time."
Kwabena Boa was an itinerant tailor, who visited neighbouring villages and attended festivals, carrying his sewing machine on his head, and local gossip on his tongue. He would use his largest scissors as a two-handed percussion instrument, to beat out a rhythm to accompany his singing. As well as singing, he told jokes and stories with which he would attract the attention of potential customers. The tailor was always a favourite of the children, who would sing to the accompaniment of his tuneful scissors.
The purchase of the sewing machine was the largest investment Kwabena had ever made, and he had been obliged to borrow money from Kofi Sika to finance the purchase. There were also heavy expenses to pay for the services of Kofi's friends who acted as witness and as security for the loan.
The re-payment was due in August, but in his first year with the new machine business had not been good enough for Kwabena to repay the loan himself. Fortunately, his uncle agreed to help, but could not provide the cash until after the cocoa had been harvested in September. Kofi Sika had made the tailor pay a full year's interest for being one month late. At fifty percent, this was a substantial sum, and in those circumstances Kofi felt that he could not beg a favour from the tailor.
Through the open window, the noise of children playing "pick-and-touch" outside the tailor's house could be heard. In the game a stick or stone is placed on the ground between a "picker" and a "toucher". The picker has to grab the object and run back to his base without being touched by the pursuing toucher. In the chase, the toucher often grabs at the picker and catches hold of his clothes.
A flash of inspiration came to Kofi as he watched the children playing. He called out:
"Ata, come here and bring a knife."
Using the knife carefully, he cut the thread to undo the seam on the shoulder of Ata's shirt.
"Why did you do that, Papa?"
"Before I go to the Harvest Festival, I must have a needle. Your mother has lost hers, but the tailor must have some. Go outside and play "pick-and-touch" with your friends. After you have been chased, you must notice the tear in your shirt. Then go to the tailor and ask him for the loan of a needle. Make certain that you bring the needle to your mother right away."
The carefully contrived plan was carried out. In spite of his dislike for Kofi, the tailor felt sorry for little Ata when he came to the house, knocked and said:
"Papa, please lend me a needle."
"What for?"
"To sew my torn shirt" said Ata.
"But where will you do the sewing? said Kwabena Boa. "Come inside, my son, and I will mend the shirt. You will be in trouble with your father if you go home and he sees what you have done."
This unexpected kindness made Ata very unhappy and he blurted out:
"But I will be in trouble with my father if you mend my shirt. My father said that I must come home with a needle."
Kwabena Boa then began to see through the plot, and by gentle questioning the whole story came out.
"Ahaa. What lengths can proud people go to? So your father with all his pride and money hasn't got a needle! And he hasn't the nerve to ask me directly. Go home, my son, and give this advice to your father.