THE LAST JOURNEY

 

The mere thought of travelling to the village of Paga filled me with some unexplainable overflow of exhilaration. I knew that the journey from Boabeng-Fiemma to Paga in the northern part of the Ghanaian country would no longer be that long, and I looked forward to it as if I have won a rare chance to travel to an exotic paradise. I wondered what could be the reason for my blissful excitement. Could it be the thought of the chance to take photographs holding a live crocodile by the tail or just the thrills of adventure? Or perhaps I was still basking in the aftermath of a blissful euphoria from the experiences of my recent visit to the Boabeng-Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary. Yes, that trip was one kind of a thrilling experience. I know that not many people are this fortunate to travel to all these exotic places, and so just sit back and enjoy my travel stories. Perhaps you may be stimulated to someday travel to these places and see for yourselves first-hand what I always regard as really fascinating travel stories. I decided to visit the Boabeng-Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary and the Paga Crocodile Ponds because of the fascinating stories I have heard about these places. First of all, I travelled to Boabeng-Fiemma.

Boabeng-Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary

The twin towns of Boabeng and Fiemma are located in the West African Ghanaian communities which are famous among tourists for their extremely friendly monkeys. Boabeng and Fiema are villages in the Brong Ahafo Region of Ghana. To reach this place I first travelled from Accra to Kumasi. Kumasi is the capital of Ashanti Region which is world famous for its gold and locally woven Kente cloths. From Kumasi, I took a bus going on the northern route to Tamale until I reached Techiman which was about 100 km from Kumasi. From Techiman, I took another bus to Nkoranza. In Nkoranza, I asked for directions to Fiemma.  I found out that the road soon became a dirt road.  

I travelled to Boabeng-Fiemma not in a private car but in a rickety local commercial bus called “Tro-Tro”, and I guess apart from the dusty road and the pot holes, the wobbly ride really added to the fun of the trip. We bypassed a group of European tourists taking a leisurely ride through the rather bumpy road. When the local passengers spotted them they waved excitedly at them in greeting. And when the tourists waved back at them they became very happy and started shouting “Obroni, Obroni”, that is the name for whites in the local Akan dialect. Where the road split in the town, I noticed the tourist’s guest-house and park office on the left hand side. The journey took about six hours to reach there. Since the monkeys are usually spotted more in the mornings and evenings; I decided to spend the night there in the guest house which had good basic amenities. I had a fitful sleep and was woken up in the morning by the shrill chattering noise of the monkeys calling in the trees. I quickly got myself ready for seeing the monkeys after which I would continue my journey to Paga to visit the world famous Crocodile Ponds.

For now, let me tell you more details of my visit to the Boabeng-Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary. I quickly took my breakfast and went out to survey the environment. I heard sounds and movements and when I looked up I was delighted to see some monkeys that came to the guest house. They were not afraid of me when they saw me; they just regarded me coolly and continued on their way. Some were walking on the roof of the quest house.        

I was later joined by a handful of Europeans and local tourists who came there on their first visits too. They got there before me but were waiting for the guide to be ready to take them round on the bush trails within the sanctuary. It was in the morning and one could hear the shrill chattering noise of the monkeys calling in the trees. The monkey sanctuary consists of a triangular-shaped forest bounded by roads and the twin towns of Boabeng and Fiemma. This Boabeng-Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary is a very unique one in the sense that not only are the monkeys here allowed to roam freely as they like in their natural habitat; they are also regarded by the inhabitants of these two towns as sacred and as their family relations. The monkeys live in harmony with the villagers and are seen as equals. They even get a real funeral when they die. Indeed monkeys around the world do not enjoy this status. There are two types of species of monkeys found in this sanctuary, the Campbell's Mona and the Geoffrey’s Black and White Colobus monkeys.

We paid some fees and were charged extra money to buy peanuts to entice the monkeys to come closer to us. We were later accompanied by a very polite guide who spoke good English, and patiently answered all our questions. He pointed out the physical descriptions, characteristics and the differences in the behaviours of the monkeys. There were about 700 Mona monkeys in the Sanctuary. They are brownish and omnivorous. The Black and White Geoffrey’s Columbus monkeys numbered about 500. They are vegetarians, living on leaves mainly. The small Mona monkeys are the least shy. They came very close to us and even ate peanuts out of our hands, but the Black and White Colobus monkey was harder to spot. Although we were able to see them in the trees eating leaves, they stayed away at a safe distance and were not enticed by our cajoling and insistent offer of peanuts. It did not take us long to comb the entire forest for it was very small. It took us about one and half hours to cover all the tracks.

We also decided to visit the two villages and we were lucky to see some monkeys running around freely in the streets in the company of other domestic livestock. I saw a monkey taking a jolly ride on the back of a sheep. Some of the monkeys were actually rolling in friendly frolics with some cats and dogs. I even saw some of these friendly monkeys “stealing”, nay, eating from pots unmolested, or perhaps they were purposely reserved for them by the villagers who regard them as part of them. It was fun to see these monkeys outside the zoos. We took some great pictures and got about three feet from a Mona monkey in the village while it perched on a low bough to eagerly munch a giant guava.

When the kids saw the European tourists in one of the villages they started greeting and waving at them, and when they waved them back they became very happy and embolden to come closer and started chanting “Obroni, picture! Picture! Picture.” One of the white men turned to me in awe, “Oh my God, how on earth did these kids got to know that my name is Peter?” I roared with laughter when I realized his mistake. Although the way the kids pronounced the word “picture” sounded like “Peter”, they were actually asking for the tourists to take shots of photographs of them. When he later got the understanding and nodded his head to them in acquiesce, the kids ran and came in groups to pose for the tourists to snap them some photographs. They were very happy and showed their appreciation by clapping and singing for the tourists who were repeatedly asking me for translations, as is I had presently become their official interpreter of the tour.

Just as in almost every part of indigenous African communities where some animal species are considered by the natives as sacred, there must be some totemic relationship behind that encounter between humans and animals. So also is the historical account of the genesis of this relationship full of such local folklore.

The Boabeng-Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary typifies traditional African conservation, the Ghanaian way. Here the culture of the people has been fashioned to include the acceptance of the monkeys as part of the society. The two communities came together in 1975 to pass a byelaw, prohibiting harm to the monkeys. They revere the animals with the belief that the monkeys are the children of the God of the twin-community. A visitor to the Sanctuary in the early morning would certainly hear monkeys calling loudly to one another.

 

The Sacred Crocodile Ponds of Paga

At first I thought perhaps it was the opportunity to be close to nature that was responsible for my heightened excitement. But I was wrong. The feeling was more than just an excitement. It goes beyond the thrills of adventure. I never knew it would end up being the most memorable journey into being, the very essence of life that is intrinsically imbedded in the intricacies of human nature.

It was a rare charisma to see the other side of nature. I have heard a lot of fantastic stories told about the friendly sacred crocodile sanctuary in the ancient village of Paga but I was not prepared for the intensity of the revelations that resulted from my last journey into human existence. Paga is well known for its friendly crocodiles that for decades have been living in perfect natural harmony with their human co-inhabitants. Now I invite you to share with me the thrills of this wonderful journey into nature.

The journey from Boabeng-Fiemma to Paga was not that far. Paga is a border town in the Kassena Nankana District of the Upper East Region of Ghana. I travelled in the company of a handful of tourists going to Paga. We departed very early from Boabeng-Fiemma so as to be able to reach our destination in time. The vehicle was in a very good condition and so we got there in time. All the fatigue and anticipation came to a climax when we finally arrived at Paga. The joyous and exhilarating atmosphere that greeted us upon arrival there was like a soothing balm to our aching limbs. We were told that the people of Paga were preparing for their yearly festival. We were greeted in the local Kasem dialect: "Baa na Paga ama ayi ana apa atiti. Nabiina bam laga badona.," meaning “Come to Paga and see for yourself; the people are friendly.”

Not only are the people of Paga friendly, their co-inhabitants in form of giant Nile crocodiles are also world known for their unusual friendliness. Paga is famous for its friendly crocodiles. Yes, friendly crocodiles! I have seen a lot of photographs taken by tourists touching, squatting, sitting, and standing near the crocodiles. Some are seen holding the tails; some bold ones were even seen shaking hands with the crocs. But with all these incredible photographs I have seen, live videos I have watched and the tourist articles I have read on the internet  websites about these Paga friendly crocodiles, they were nothing compared to what I witnessed there. What I witnessed there surpassed all my wildest imaginations. I saw half naked little children riding joyfully and unharmed on the back of giant live Nile crocodiles in a pond that is situated in the middle of the town. Just as you often see expert divers swimming in the oceans together with dolphins, so do the people of Paga swim together in the sacred crocodile ponds unharmed. There is no known record of any crocodile attack or tragic incident in these Paga Crocodile Ponds.

As if by mutual tradition, Paga town was kept very clean. There is no eyesore in form of flying papers, debris, filth or environmental degradation. Perhaps this is a perfect example of cleanliness being next to godliness. God is certainly pleased with the people of Paga to give them a rare legacy of human co-habitation with crocodiles that are usually considered very wild and dangerous. All over the world the Paga crocodiles have drawn many visitors to this town. Diplomats, dignitaries and even Presidents have thronged this town to see and experience on first-hand the crocodiles. They normally leave Paga truly convinced that a crocodile could be friendly.

Paga Crocodile Pond was originally a sacred sanctuary for crocodiles. All year round tourists come to Paga watch hordes of eager crocodiles responding to the summons of the attendants. Enthusiastic tourists from all over the world throng to Paga daily to watch these amazing friendly crocodiles. There are three Crocodile Ponds in Paga. These three ponds together contain about 500 Nile Crocodiles. For over the centuries these crocodiles have been considered sacred by the villagers. There are various totemic legends about these crocodiles. In Paga humans and crocodiles live here in full harmony, not bothering each other.

The best accessible Pond among the three Crocodile Ponds is the one situated along the highway to Burkina Faso border. We decided to go there to see for ourselves these amazing crocodiles. It is just one kilometre from the border checkpoint. There is a signboard with the caption of a human riding on the back of a crocodile. The signboard boldly designates it as “Welcome to Chief Crocodile Pond”. The guides were awaiting customers in a signpost summer hut situated between the Pond and the road.

The surroundings of the Chief Crocodile Pond was quite neat. Contrary to the many previous complaints about place we were surprised to see a whole new facelift. Stories in the past had it that at the Pond there were some unkempt individuals who demanded exorbitant money each before one could even visit the Pond. There were complaints then that they demanded high price to buy the fowl, which will entice the crocodiles from the Pond. Then the place around the Pond was said to be soggy and tourists had to get their footwear wet trying to get to the Pond. Many complained that there was no form of entertainment and they had to walk about a kilometre to the border to get to a joint to quench their thirst.

It may be true that in the past, tourists had to negotiate the fees with uncompromising individuals. Fortunately for us all that has changed now. We were surprised that in recent times the village of Paga has been developed under the auspices of Community Based Ecotourism Program. This was done with the assistance of Peace Corps volunteers and so now we were presented a menu with a choice of excursion options and additional services all at fixed rates.

Towards late afternoon we were joined by more tourists. There were a handful of European and American tourists present but the local Ghanaian tourists outnumbered the rest. Students from other parts of Ghana came there on excursion. Many Ghanaian couples came in their private cars with their families. We paid the necessary guide fees part of which is set aside for community development projects in Paga. We paid extra money to the guides to buy the fowls; some of the local tourists brought their own fowls from home too. We were ready to witness what is termed the Crocodile Pond Ritual. The procedure takes the form of a defined ritual performance involving the tourists, guides, fowl and the crocodiles.

First, the tourists would provide a live chicken to the guides who would call out to the crocodiles using the fowls as bait to entice them to come out of the pond. The guide whistles a tune and this excites them and makes them come out of the water, and then he waves the live fowl in the air for the crocodile to come to the dry land. The tourists can then pose for photographs with crocodiles, and after that they are rewarded with a fowl which is gulped down with gusto.

Indeed the guides are necessary to lure a crocodile from the Pond; otherwise we would not be able to see any. That was why we were charged extra money for the fowls. We walked to the Pond for 30 to100 metres and we watched the guides in awe as they started to whistle and vigorously shake the poor fowl in his hand. The terrified fouls made a lot of noise which I guess was meant to attract the crocodiles and acquaint them with the prospect of a free meal. At first nothing happened. I guess it all depends on the season and the time of the day to determine whether the crocodiles are ready to show up. All we had to do was to patiently wait for them to show up. The waiting lasted for about fifteen minutes.

It took fifteen minutes of hard work by two guides who energetically flapped the fowls in the air before the crocodiles eventually appeared. We were lucky as three medium sized Nile Crocodiles eagerly came out of the pond. They were rather young crocodiles in their prime. They looked quite big and lazy. Some of the tourists felt disappointed that they were not the really big ones and that they could not be able sit on them to pose for their photographs but we were all happy that they came after all. Now the waiting was over. There was a visible release of unsuppressed excitement among the tourist when the three Nile crocodiles approached us. I do not really know how to describe the intensity of my exhilaration. Indeed I am a pet lover and have seen hundreds of crocodiles in zoos and national parks in Africa before, but this whole thing took a novel dimension. This was the first time I came near or saw a crocodile at such a very close range. This was where I had my closet encounter with crocodiles. My excitement was overflowed with blissful emotions. I quickly got my camcorder ready and positioned myself at a vantage point to get the best focus of the whole action. Intuitively, I wondered how the guides were going to share two fowls among the three eager looking crocodiles approaching us at a leisurely pace.

Apparently my vantage position at the forefront might have been misleading and precipitated the idea to one of the crocodiles that I might be one of the guides and my camcorder was a fowl that was meant for it. It came to me with its formidable huge snout wide open and was waiting for it. Although I claim to be a professional wildlife videographer, I always do that at a discreet distance with the aid of very sensitive telescopic lens. I also know that I am no crocodile catcher, charmer or expert. I did not intend to be no Steve Erwin either, and so all my excitement suddenly turned into a momentary premonition, and the need for safety became foremost in my mind. Intrinsically I knew that this portends danger. In Africa we are thought to have respect for the wild. Instinctively I cringed and jumped backwards quickly out of range of the approaching crocodile, in case it lunges for a grab of my hand out of frustration. Although they claimed there was no known record of crocodile attack to humans in the history of Paga, I was not going to lose my guard. Of course, I knew that no matter how legendary their alleged friendliness, these Nile crocodiles were no vegetarians when we were told to offer them meat, live chickens for that matter.

When the crocodiles were completely out of the water, they relaxed docilely near the bank. The guides motioned us that we could now pose for photographs with the crocodiles. It was time for the tourists to perform their own part in the ritual by taking photographs with the crocodiles. Some of the tourists came with their own cameras. They were all dressed to look their best in the photograph of their lives. The students were busy taking group photograph with their own digital cameras which needed no film to function. Some had manual cameras but no film.

The guides were making good brisk business by taking the students pictures, using their own cameras as most of them had no cameras. You have to pay the guide-turned photographers in advance and can pick the photographs or have the photos the next day if you are staying overnight. Although they advertised with the caption of “Have your photo taken sitting on the back of a crocodile”, there were two conditions involved. First the crocodile must be really huge; secondly the human must be tiny, which in reality is only feasible for little children in rare cases. The only option left for us was to just pose by squatting near the crocodiles. Some bold ones touched, shake hands, and grabbed the tails of the crocodiles. I took as many shots of photographs and video footages as much as I could.

The crocodiles were really tamed, well behaved and patient. They waited patiently for the tourists to take as many pictures as they wished. This is the fun part of the ritual; one can touch, caress or even sit on these reptiles. Paga is the only place on the planet earth where you can pose for your memorable photos, sitting and holding the tail of some of the biggest crocodiles in the world. About twenty tourists could take pictures with only just one crocodile. After the tourists were done with the photographs, the crocodiles finally got their rewards for their mutual cooperation and patience. Incidentally the guides completed the tally of three chickens and offered the equally to the crocodiles. The munching and gulping of the chicken by the crocodiles was really spectacular. It was done in a noisy concerto, a flurry of flapping wings and crunching bones. After dinner the three satiated crocodiles did not see any further reason to amuse the tourists. They lazily slide back into the water and swam away contentedly.

The whole Crocodile Pond ritual ceremony took about thirty minutes, and I guess both parties found it a big fun, except me. I wanted something more than that. I told the guides that I wanted to take a video of a human riding on the back of the crocodiles in the pond. They told me that would cost me additional money. I came all the way to Paga prepared for that, and so I readily agreed to their rather exorbitant price. Eventually two very young boys were fetched from the village to ride on the back of the crocodile in the water. I asked if they are sure the kids could swim and no harm would befall them in the water. It is a different thing to touch or pose with a crocodile outside the water and another thing entirely to venture into their lair. The guides allayed all my fears by assuring me that the kids are locals and adept swimmers who have passed through the same ritual several times before. Good, I just wanted to be sure no one would be held responsible for whatever accidents that may take place.

No accidents took place. The kids waited excitedly for another crocodile to be lured out of the water for a chance to ride on their back. The Crocodile ritual performance took place again, only that this time the waiting was shorter. I did not know exactly how they did it but this time around we did not have to wait for a longer period before two very giant Nile crocodiles came out of the water. I guess I was twice lucky in one day. The two crocodiles that came out of the water were really some of the largest in the Chief Crocodile Pond of Paga. After the crocodiles were fed the kids climbed onto their backs. Enthusiastic tourists cooed with glee when the two monstrous crocodile slide back into the water with kids snugly clinging legs bestriding their ample rough backside. The crocodiles swam the whole length of the pond with the kids happily waving to the excited shouts of the tourists. Only the kids were visible on the surface of the water. In spite of their age and huge size the giant crocodiles moved rather very fast in the water. They left a thin line of parted waves behind them as they sped through the water like speedboats. The whole scenario looked as if the kids were paddling underwater with their legs while the rest of their body was suspended above the water. This was the highpoint of my exhilaration. I was busy adjusting my optical and automatic zoom lens to perfectly capture this rare scenario on video.

Cameras were clicking and flashing. Some of the thrilled students have started placing bets on the expectant winner of the improvised crocodile race. As if by practice the crocodiles knew what to do, they turned round when they reached the end of the pond and appeared as if they were racing each other in the water. The kids urged them on like jockeys in a horse race. The two crocodiles raced in a synchronised manner depicting the adept movements of dolphins swimming in water. There were thunderous shouts of joy and applause when the two crocodiles safely landed the two kids simultaneously back on the starting point of the pond. The kids alighted from the back of the crocodiles and came triumphantly ashore. They were hugged and carried shoulder high by some over-excited onlookers. They became instant celebrities among the tourists who were all taking turns to shake their hands and congratulate them. They would have asked for their autographs if given the opportunity. The crowd of tourists joyously showered the kids with gift offerings of cash and anything imaginable. Some people gave the kids apples and candies while some students emotionally removed their fez caps, clothes and gave them to the kids in the fashion of football stars exchanging their team jerseys. Some were busy posing and taking pictures with the boys as if they too have become human exhibitions just like the attractive friendly crocodiles of Paga. In the process some of them were shaking hands with me smacking my back happily for providing them with another rare form of entertainment worthy of their tortuous long journey to Paga. This event has turned into another side attraction to the main festival that was due the next day. The guides helped the kids to collect their handful of gifts and cash offerings. They promised to share it equally among them later. Everybody, including me left that place convinced that crocodiles could be that friendly.

I planned to stay in Paga overnight because the next day I needed to cover some background preparations of the oncoming festival. There were other side attractions like the Slave Market, the Kukula Mystery Dam and Natural Game Reserves. I considered the choice to spend the night at the visitors’ centre, Kubs Lodge or trek a walking distance of about a hundred meters to the Ghana - Burkina Faso International Border Post. Other tourists who preferred better accommodation services left for the nearby towns of Navrongo or Bolgatanga. I took a quick bath and took my evening meal after which I scanned through the photographs I took in the course of day’s events. Satisfied that they were all good shots I tucked the digital camera away and grabbed the camcorder. I switched on the playback mode and appraised my footages through the LCD screen. They were also good shots taken from varying appropriate camera angles.

That night, one would have thought that based on the level of my tiredness I would have drifted into sleep immediately my head touched the pillow. On the contrary, I lay on my bed very exhausted but found it difficult to sleep. I thought about the dramatic events that transpired during the course of the day. I also rummaged in my mind for some logical explanations to what I witnessed. The extremely tamed and strange behaviours of the crocodiles were too incredible to believe. Naturally speaking, everyone knows that crocodiles are not vegetarians, they are carnivorous by nature. In fact, the mere mention of crocodile strikes fears in almost everyone who regards them as dangerous predators.

Indeed crocodiles are very dangerous in their natural habitats. It therefore still remains a mystery how these Nile crocodiles of Paga have become harmless and very friendly to humans. The experience in Paga has thought me that the crocodile, regarded in many parts of the world, as one of the most uncompromising and wild creatures that can cope with water and land conditions, is indeed an intriguing animal. It is interesting; both in its variety and life's existence, the way it has shown remarkable contrasting natures. Whether in Paga where it is a friendly and participatory creature or in the marshy wetlands of the Okavango waterways or in the wild Amazon forest or even in the generality of conception of crocodile as a dangerous prey not to be tempered with, the crocodile has proven conclusively that man and creature can co-exist humbly for the benefit of both.

Crocodiles are wild creatures but not the ones in Paga. In Paga, the local citizens have over the years mastered the art of taming crocodiles and this has become a huge tourist attraction today. It is very amazing how these Paga crocodiles have simultaneously portrayed flexibility and resilience in the long history of mutual habitation between the people of Paga and their friendly counterpart, crocodile. But after the end of my last journey to Paga I no longer wonder how it all began. There may be many circumstances and favourable conditions that precipitated the beginning of this mutual co-existence between man and beasts. The creation story of a paradise where man actually was mandated by God to have dominion over all animals, might indeed be considered as the only possible answer to these baffling questions. Many mythological and totemic relationships span the long history of the inhabitants of Paga and the crocodile.

However, I asked myself what was the fun or point in one life (chicken) being wasted for a chance to take a photograph with a crocodile? It does not make any sense to me. But it does make sense. Paga is no Serengeti nor is Boabeng Fiemma any Disney Land, but a very fine example of community based ecotourism in Ghana. For Paga people, it is a passionate, truthful and solemn fact that crocodile belief makes life possible for the people. Indeed, it is a customary offence to harm, kill or show any sign of disrespect to the crocodile of Paga. As if in response, the crocodiles have thrived and perpetuated a friendly existence, which still remains a marvel to many tourists and visitors. It is normal for the people of Paga and a miracle to outsiders to see children riding on the back of the crocodiles in the various dams and even more common to see tourists holding crocodile tails or even sitting on them.

 

Pinkworo Rocks of Fear

Early in the morning of next day, I left for the nearby Nania Slave Camp about three kilometres from Paga. It was a slave transit camp and relics of the slave trade are still found in this village. During the ancient period Nania developed into a trading centre for Hausa, Mossi and Zambrama traders. Nania became the first stopover and auction market for slaves captured in Mossi and surrounding lands from the 16th century. This is the main site on the Upper East slave route. Slaves bought in Nania were resold in the Salaga market. I needed to see for myself and so I went there. The market was situated in a rocky area referred to as "Pinkworo" (Rocks of Fear). I noticed with fascination that what survives today is a rock outcrop that was used as an observation post by the raiders. I observed some water troughs formed in the rocks. I was told that the captured slaves drank water from these troughs. I also saw a couple of grinding stones and indents in the rocks, where slaves ground cereals for food. Hand and foot marks stamped by irate slaves could still be found on the "Pinkworo".

Suddenly I noticed a swift blurred movement by my side. I whirled quickly to see what it was. I quickly looked sideways but neither saw nor heard anything. Instinctively I knew something was amiss. I heard whispers and footsteps but saw nothing, the rocks looked empty. I became very alert. The hair on my neck bristled in premonition like the hackles of an agitated dog. I decided that perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me. I remembered that the name of this rock is Pinkworo, the Rocks of Fear. Indeed fear gripped me when I noticed two distinct rock platforms positioned in place like a dais. As if propelled by an invisible force, my legs were dragged to the platforms. I raised one leg and placed it on one of the platforms and instantly I saw myself whirling through time into another age.

What I saw there was very amazing. I saw ancient men and women living a very peaceful and serene and a very clean environment. I noticed excellent health and vitality radiating from their friendly demeanour. Their lithe bodies were athletic and portrayed strength and agility. I noticed that they were vegetarians as their meals consisted only of fruits and water. Another amazing thing I noticed was that their domestic animals coexisted peacefully with what we now know as predatory wild animals. The young lambs, zebras and rodents were playing and lying close to lions, tigers, cheetahs and jaguars. The scenario could only be imagined to depict the creation story of paradise in the original Garden of Eden. Suddenly I felt a powerful wave of nostalgia as if I have always belonged there and my whole being longed to live among these peaceful and healthy looking ancient people. They might have noticed my presence as all their heads looked in my direction at once. A tensed moment of silence elapsed before one of the elderly men among them beckoned to me to come forth. Happily I made an attempt to move a step towards them, but instantly my other leg touched the second rock platform the scene changed abruptly.

I was yet again whirled through time into another age in time. This time the scene was the direct opposite of what I saw the first time. What I saw was nothing compared to the earlier gentle scenario. This time around everywhere I looked there was chaos, a complete anarchical setting. Nature seemed to be at war, men were callously taunting, killing, maiming, hunting and eating the animals. Some animals were hunted in cold blood by the men, not for food but all in the name of sport. In a very pitiable scene I saw a couple of maimed and tusk-less elephants and walruses crying out in agonizing shrieks and running helter-skelter as their tusks were forcefully hacked from their heads with sharp objects. Some of the animals on their part were lashing back at the men, some were seen chasing and preying on humans.

Most of the animals became wild predators and preyed on other animals. So also were the humans, they were hunting one another in senseless cold blood; some were captured and enslaved while some even turned into cannibals. Human predators were preying on fellow humans in uncontrollable genocide feuds. One of the human predators suddenly sniffed the air suspiciously, turned and noticed my presence. He looked up and glared at me from where he was feeding on a human carcass. His mouth was bloody. I flinched as he barred his vampire fangs at me. He hastily got up to his feet, growled and rushed towards me. Fear gripped me, I cringed and quickly moved a step back but as I lifted my leg from the other rock platform the scene changed instantly into the present. I saw myself again alone on the Pinkworo, the Rocks of Fear.

I took in a very deep breath of relief. I suddenly realized that one of my legs was suspended in mid-air and was not touching the other rock. The realization came to me with a shock. What was happening to me is referred to in physics as quantum teleportation. It appears that my ancient African ancestors who lived in these pristine settlements might have known, developed and practised these amazing tricks of teleportation long before modern science stumbled onto the scientific vestiges of the theories of relativity. I noticed that one of my legs was still suspended in mid-air. I know that if I placed it on the other stone platform another scene would change and I would travel through time again into yet another era in a point in time. I was terrified of this new revelation. I was not sure of where the next leap of teleportation would land me. The fearful and bizarre spectacle of that vampire in my last encounter flashed through my mind again and I became very scared of what to do next.

For what seemed like an eternity I stood poised with indecision on one leg like an amputated fowl on the Rocks of Fear. The fear of the unknown coupled with intrinsic safety warning signals flashed through every fibre of my being to quickly jump off those two accursed rock platforms and ran as fast as my legs could carry back to Paga and civilization. But incurable human curiosity and restless quest for adventure took the better part of my good judgement. Suddenly I had an irresistible urge to stamp my foot on the other pedal and travel through time again. I told myself this would be my one last journey through time after which I would go back to the town of Paga. Yes, this one would be the last journey. I wondered what horrors or blissful spectacles await me there on the other side of nature. Would it be pleasant or distasteful? What fate awaits humanity on the other side of the future? Is it good or bad? Well, there was only one way to find out. The frustration and dilemma of curiosity, and the fear of uncertainty was killing me, impatience was boiling in my breast in a crescendo of cacophonic “Yes, Yes, Yes ... No! No! No!” The decision was hastily made. At least it was only natural for me to take a glimpse into what fate awaits humanity, and what the future holds in store for mankind. I needed to know. I held my breath, closed my eyes and stamped my suspended foot with all vehemence on the other waiting rocky plate of quantum teleportation.

For a few breath-taking seconds of anticipation nothing happened. I opened my eyes to see, still nothing happened. Perhaps now is my chance to quietly leap off those rocks and go home safely. But that means the loss of a rare opportunity to peek into the future and have an insight into what lies ahead of our earthly existence. I realized that intelligence is not a privilege; it is gift that should be used for the benefit of mankind. Perhaps if I miss that opportunity; human progeny would never forgive me of failing to take advantage of the chance. Perhaps there may never be a second chance.

I stamped my foot again on the rock platform and waited. At first it appeared as if nothing was going to happen but suddenly I heard strange whispers and saw a thick white smoke spiralling from a cracked gourd on the rock. The smoke came out profusely and changed into a very thick toxic black smoke like the carbon monoxide fumes from a rickety vehicle. The atmosphere became dark, the sky was very dirty, plants and livestock were scrawny and sickly. I saw the planet earth like a very dirty and sickly orb encased in a glass globe. It looked like an enlarged bloodshot eye complete with scraggy veins and slime. It was painfully coughing out clot of blood and thick black smoke. There were two types of lives on the earth, sickly humans and plants on one side and a combination of half-human half- mechanical-electronic robot-like beings on the other side. The half human-half robots were taunting the real natural humans and were forcing them to transmute into robots like them. Some of the human could not run away from the robots because they were suffering from severe obesity due to inactivity as a result of the easy lifestyle technological advancement has brought.

There was a complete reversal of the present climatic conditions. There was snow in parts of Africa and other tropical countries but deserts have taken over the icy mountains of the temperate zones. There were horrifying tragic deaths from landslides, flooding, tornadoes, earthquakes, and epidemic to cataclysmic proportions. There was only one race of humans on earth, there was no distinction in human skin colour for the complexion of every human became a dark skin like the black people of Africa. Apparently the continuing devastating effects of the global warming became too uncontrollable and the unbearable ultraviolent rays of the sun had turned all human skins into black skins; a natural way of the skin to acclimatize to the black pigmentation as protective shield against the merciless rays of the sun. There were other planets with some forms of life on them. The moon became a second home to earthly inhabitants. The moon was an exhausted storehouse to the earth. Humans had found a way to harness every solid material imaginable that was on earth and also all that had hitherto lay hidden for centuries in the crust of the moon; had been excavated and used to replenish the sickly earth. Some of the good robots forcefully encased some humans in a large glass enclosure labelled “HIGHLY ENDAGERED SPECIES".

In spite of the harsh conditions of living, some of the natural humans were still hopeful for a redeemer who is to come and bring an end to their predicaments. The expectation was very high. A multitude of humans gathered on a hill waiting anxiously for a signal from heaven. They wailed and gnashed their teeth in heightened anticipation. Suddenly it happened. There was a thunderous clashing noise, the sky divided into two and a huge ancient scroll fell down from heaven. Everybody, including me rushed near to read what was written in the ancient scroll. I strained my eyes to read but saw nothing. I groped for a glimpse but saw nothing. I was not sure if my sight had gone blunt or it was rather the scroll that was empty. I started to cry out of frustration. I saw again the big orb of an all seeing bloodshot eye pleading with me, "You must go now and warn them before it is too late". I was hearing voices far away in my subconscious calling my name. “Go now! Go!” urged the all-seeing eye. I hesitated. I wanted to know what was in the scroll. The urge to know was too irresistible but invisible hands were pulling me away from the spot. I started to cry; I was thrashing and shouting loudly, "No, wait... I need to know. I NEED TO KNOW!" 

I woke up with a start. I saw myself again on the "Pinkworo"; only this time around I was not alone. I was surrounded by many concerned looking tourists. I saw myself in the arms of a young European lady. From maternal instinct perhaps, she hugged me to her ample bosom and was tenderly swaying my crumbled body. There were tears in her eyes. She looked at me with relief when I opened my eyes to look at her. She gave me a thin nervous smile and said, "Thank God, he has finally come back". Come back from where? I asked myself. Suddenly it all started flooding back into my mind. "No!" I shouted and tried to stand up. Many hands held me down immediately. "You must remain calm; something terrible has happened to you here". I was told to relax and that help was coming.

The help they were expecting came in form of an old looking man they ran to fetch from the village. The old man brought along with him a bucketful of water and a smooth round boulder. The crowd parted to give him way. He came and knelt down by my side and placed the rock on my forehead for some time. When he dropped the rock into the bucketful of water something strange happened. Immediately the rock touched the water in the bucket there was a very loud whooshing sound like an extremely heated iron touching liquid. He repeated this action twice and declared that I was now well enough and should be allowed to stand up. I tried to stand up but fell down again; my legs were too wobbly to support my frame.

Quick, the message!  I realised that I have got to deliver the SOS message from nature on the other side of the future, but I wondered what the actual message was. I could not remember precisely, but I believed the general idea was to warn mankind about the continuing foolhardy environmental degradation. There is a climatic boulder that is tilted on a hill, but once it starts rolling it can never stop. It is not enough to sign and ratify the Kyoto Accords, it must be strictly implemented. The 37 industrialized countries (called "Annex I countries") must commit themselves to a reduction of industrial gases, chlorofluorocarbons, or CFCs, and four greenhouse gases (GHG) (carbon dioxide, methane, nitrous oxide, sulphur hexafluoride) and two groups of gases (hydrofluorocarbons and perfluorocarbons) produced by them, and all member countries must give general commitments. Let us also implement the 1987 Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer.

What about our moral degeneracy, spiritual bankruptcy, and above all, the cataclysmic propensity of scientific and technological advancements? The message is to take caution, imbibe moderation and slow down the pace of our Icarus dizzy flights near the sun and abysmal voids; lest we got sucked through the holes we are digging in the ozone layer. I wonder how mankind would listen to the voice of caution when scientists have jumped into orbit to have a clearer view of things we leave behind.

 

Impressum

Texte: Copyrights © Dela Bobobee All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any from or by any means without prior permission of the writer. Cover Design: A caption on a signpost at the Chief Crocodile Pond of Paga in Ghana.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.11.2009

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
To the people of the Ghanaian communities of Paga and Boabeng Fiemma Monkey Sanctuary, Ghana Eco Tourism Projects, and to all the progressive forces, NGOs and other global organizations fighting tirelessly against environmental degradationg, and all agencies working for Wildlife Conservation, Preservation and Protection of Endangered Spicies.