was dead. This second wife was buried with the
amoasie and beads as well. Nothing could con-
sole Kwasi Benefo.
The grieving Kwasi sat in his house for days
and refused to come out. People said to him that
others had died and that people die all the time.
They told him that he had to get up and go about
his work. His friends pleaded with him to come
out and mingle with them. In time, the family of
the dead woman heard about Kwasi’s grief and
believed that he was grieving much too long. They
said, “Let us give him another wife.”
They invited him to their village and said to
him, “Grieving is necessary but in time one must
move on with life. We will find another daughter
for you to marry.” They told him that what was
past was past and that he would be happy with
the new wife. They said to him, “Let the dead live
with the dead but the living must be with the liv-
ing.” Of course, Kwasi Benefo felt that his wife
was not dead; although she had departed, she was
a part of the ancestral world and called out to him
from time to time. He wanted to know, “How can
I take another wife and still hear the voice of the
one who has died?” The family told him that in
time this feeling would pass. Truly, when he
returned to his village and started working his
fields, the pain lessened. Then he went back to the
village and married the daughter. She gave birth to
a son who was celebrated throughout the land. He
was happy. His life was good, and he shared his
joy with his friends.
There was a day, however, while Kwasi Benefo
was in his fields that some village women ran to
him with news that a tree had fallen. They were in
tears as they told him the news. “Who sheds tears
over a fallen tree?” He knew that there had to be
more to the story. They told him that something
had been left unsaid. Then they told him. “Your
wife was returning from the river where she had
gone to get water. Then she sat beneath a tree to
rest and a spirit of the woods weakened the roots
and the tree fell on her.”
Kwasi ran as fast as he could to the village,
where he found his wife on a mat without life. He
cried out, threw himself on the ground, and lay
there as if life had left him also. He could not
understand anything. He heard, saw, and felt
nothing. Some people came by and said Kwasi
Benefo is dead. The spiritual men and women
came and said, “No, he is not dead; he is lingering
between life and death.” They performed all kinds
of rituals over him—they gave him herbs and
rubbed his body to find the life that was still pres-
ent. They were successful. Kwasi Benefo stood up
and helped to make arrangements for his wife.
The next day, there was a wake for the wife, and
he bought amoasie and beads and she was buried
in these things.
Kwasi plunged into the deepest of despair.
There must have been evil lurking somewhere to
cause him so much pain. He knew that no woman
would want to marry a man who was so unlucky
with women. Who would entrust their daughter
with him? Even his friends began to speak of him
as a person who must not have good character.
Soon he left his village, his farm, and his house.
He took his son to his wife’s home and left him
there with her relatives.
Kwasi Benefo then went into the forest and
walked for many days aimlessly. After a long
while, he arrived at a distant village, but left
immediately and went farther into the forest, feel-
ing that he had to get farther away from the place
of his sadness. Soon he stopped at a place in the
forest that seemed far away from people. He
decided to remain there. Of course, he had to
build a house, and he completed a crude shack.
When he became hungry, this once prosperous
farmer gathered roots and herbs for food. He
made traps to catch small game. Soon his clothes
were tattered and turned to rags. He killed ani-
mals and used their skins for clothes. His life was
wretched, and he almost forgot how prosperous
he had been.
Now it came to pass that Kwasi Benefo left the
forest and went to a village where he was
unknown. He began to farm and soon married a
fourth time. However, when the fourth wife took
ill and died, his will was completely broken. He
wanted to know, “How can I go on with life.”
Once again he abandoned his farm, his cattle,
and his house and journeyed back into his native
village.
Many people came out to see him; they were
surprised because they had thought he was dead.
When his family and friends wanted to celebrate
his return, he told them not to celebrate because
he had only come back to die in his own village
and be buried near the graves of the ancestors.42 Amokye