ANYTIME A treating doctor is requested to attend the funeral of a patient, it's an embarrassment of sorts, and an honour, all rolled into one. You take it, whichever way you prefer, but dishonoring the invitation is the bigger of the two evils. I choose the lesser, whenever the onus falls on me. You don't have to wait long, if you are in a rare field, such as mine, (and I would like to keep my prospective readers guessing). This one was about twenty miles away from Oseikrom and in that old city with plenty of Ashanti and Akan history, Efiduasi, (also written Afigyuase).

Owing to the fervid rate of road construction the last couple of years between Ejisu and Kumasi, weekend travel on that piece of road, - Kumasi to Ejisu could be a nightmare. So avoid it. My driver, born and bred in the Ashanti Region, had a hilarious surprise for me.

THE HISTORIC SITES

I was thrilled as he described the route he had in mind, with all the historical sites en route, which included the City, or township called Antua, (also called Antoa), where in a single city, we would observe a banana tree planted by the legendary Ghanaian as long ago as three hundred years. As if that would not be thrilling enough, I was to see a palm tree, climbed by the same legend, Okomfo Anokye, (also known as Komfo Anokye). With that in mind, we left the City of Kumasi, at its North-Eastern edge, and virtually "waded" our way through the bumpy road that exits through a suburb now part of Kumasi, called Asokore Mampong. I dozed off here and there, lots of times awakened by the driver's sudden maneuvers to avoid an accident, and there were plenty of such moments. All of a sudden, "Ohhh Sir, we just passed by the banana and the palm trees!", exclaimed the driver, pointing to the left. "I am sorry, I did not wake you up. Do you want me to make a U-turn, so you could see them?"

He knew for sure the suggestion was far fetched. We were running about two hours behind time. But then, I did not miss Bonwire, the city where Kente-weaving had started, (in the whole world), and where it still reigns as "the centre", with "no competitors". Everybody must drive to this city, to see things for themselves. Don't let me kill your excitement, by attempting to say anything. Just believe me, you will be thrilled.

Then, just thereafter, we joined the road we would have taken, had we driven along the main Accra-Kumasi road, and made a left turn, as we reached Ejisu. Just then, there was Juaben, and finally Efiduase, where I was to attend the funeral of my one-time patient.

AKAN FUNERAL

My vehicle arrived about two hours late, and the funeral had been about an hour in session, not the two hours I had feared. I had hardly stepped out of the vehicle when one family member spotted me, and came to usher me to the series of pavilions, the centre of which the whole affair was to take place, and had already begun. It was the size of a football pitch. You pass around from right to left, (as tradition requires), greeting the bereaved, and the dignitaries, and in the end, everybody else.

Cultural dances have usually converged on an occasion like this, and depending on the fame of the deceased, and/or their family, an awfully expensive business. All of a sudden, drums will bell, but melodiously. A girl in her youthful years, (she should be able to leap like a gazelle), thrusts herself into the air, but your bet is that you concentrate your attention first on her legs, (and there are lots of them marvelously beautiful). The legs then will thrust left and right, in such quick succession that, your eyes are forced to follow these acrobatic natural structures up until soon, you are around the waist, the torso, then the face, which you will find always smiling, and ironically, the hands which, always thrusting messages and adulation, to the bidders, (and among them the best-bidders), are followed last to detail.

A presentation lasts a couple of minutes to a maximum of five minutes. That is as long as the most avid dancers could last, and the drummers don't fare any better longer. It's simply so exhausting. All involved are as a result slim people.

THE ADOWA DANCE

The Adowa is known and danced in all parts of Ghana lately, but among the Akans first. When one talks of Adowa, one recognizes that, it's Ashanti first in history, and everybody else has learned from them. The original Ashanti was a man, or woman of short stature, often statuette. You must imagine, the best for an Adowa repertoire. It is our republic's proud heritage too. In it, there is sex appeal (and you needn't be accused of being voyeuristic). Then there is exhibit of youth and ebullient energy. When one touches on sex-appeal, it must be in the eyes of the beholder, since both men and women, of all ages can display what they may have acquired over the years, to entice the onlookers.

Looking at it from a professional stand-point, it would be expedient to say that, provision of protective foot-wear and more dance-friendly terrain would stand the young men and women poised to dance for five decennia and more of their lives, in good stead. It is estimated that, hundreds of thousands of guests from all over the world visiting our Republic on the occasion of the Golden Jubilee, will watch Adowa, but not necessarily in Ashanti. Adowa, my kind of dance, and hopefully yours too.