This year we managed to join the Asogli Chief, Togbe Effede IV and his followers on the annual Ewe migration pilgrimage to Notse in Togo. This migration marks the beginning of the two week yam festival in Ho. Apart from the chance to visit the place in history where the Ewe escaped a tyrannical ruler hundreds of years ago through a hole in the town walls, I was also relishing an opportunity to travel incognito, across a country border with neither the need for a passport or visa – a rare opportunity in this day and age. My imagination was already running riot with fantasies of disappearing, assuming a new identity – you name it – as well as bringing back memories of illicit entries into Burma and Nepal in times long gone by.
We were joined by Carrie, our American photographer friend who has now lived here for something like seven years and Abhishek, an Indian friend living in Accra. As expected the advice to be at the Asogli Offices for midday was a little optimistic – we joined many others waiting for the transport to be arranged. We were given the privilege of joining the “noteables” bus – something I found quite fitting and pleasing – and certainly a position I shall wish to uphold back home. We finally left Ho somewhere around four o’clock – a convoy of 4x4s (carrying Togbe Effede IV and assorted junior Chiefs and VIPs) and a motley collection of buses (ours being the best of course) and tro tros. We crossed the border without any checks and then had a long wait by the sea in Lome as the sun went down. The younger members of the party continued to whoop it up with abobo drumming and dancing, their relentless energy lasting long into the night.
We finally reached Notse late in the evening following further delays after a minor pile up on the road which took out several of our cars. Most people were sleeping at the school but being noteables there was supposed to be hotel accommodation for us – the only problem being that no one knew where. We then spent over an hour driving around a pitch black Notse, at one point looking for the “caretaker”, whoever he was. All the smaller lodges were full and fatigue was beginning to set in. We made a decision to return to the hotel where Togbe was staying – a fairly swish looking place that was also full. We encamped in the lobby, now joined by several other noteables – a young man from Volta Star Radio and Kwesi, a German Ghanaian doing doctorate research on chieftaincy in Ghana. Here we spent a hilarious hour while Abhishek produced a small kettle and tea making equipment, entertaining the bemused hotel staff. At one point after midnight we were invited into a banquet hall to find a large crowd of Togbes and Queen Mothers in full bling tucking into a large meal (sadly nothing vegetarian but good wine). Finally through some Asogli wangling rooms were found for us – beds for the night!
The next morning we seemed to have missed the bus – literally. No information of course but we commandeered a tro after breakfast to take us to the Durbar grounds. Already large crowds were gathered with assorted dance and drum groups and voodoo covens. We found seats in the Asogli ranks amongst the warriors and enjoyed the spectacle. Lots of speeches – mostly emphasising the Ewe shared traditions and cultures – and loads of music. Best of all there were Zangbeta, men covered in leaves and wearing hats with horns and bones and some way out singing – my kind of do! Of course in the excitement I got sunburnt, forgetting my hat but hey who cares. Afterwards we were all ferried back to the hotel where we were invited to join the celebratory banquet – as much as you could eat and just about anything and everything to drink. Unfortunately for Kiran she was on medication which meant no alcohol! She had to watch everyone around her, get sloshed. They go big time for the spirits in Togo.
Much the worse for wear, the next stop was the football match - the Asogli State team taking on the home side on a rough bone dry pitch without a blade of grass. Christian the young man who comes and helps with our garden was playing in midfield and Togbe kicked off the second half in full regalia. The teams fought out a tough draw – penalty shootout – in the last few moments of daylight Asoglis scored the winning shot – a cup was presented and you would have thought by the celebrations from our contingent that Ghana had won the world cup.
That evening was the “Grand Bal” and we devoted our best efforts to blagging our way in. Having managed to get in once, we were swiftly ejected by a stern and grumpy steward who made it quite clear that we should buy tickets if we were to attend. Sometime later Abhishek somehow managed to do what we had all failed to do and secured us all complimentary tickets – we were in and I couldn’t resist a smirk at the woman who was giving us daggers! The band was a 60s highlife outfit – a Togolese version of the Buena Vista Social Club – a delight and their mellow vibes carried us late into the night. Togbe Effede finally took to the dance floor – thereby giving permission for the lesser mortals to dance – quite a sight. We staggered back to our rooms in the early hours – shattered.
Next day we all dutifully trooped to the last remaining pile of stones which once constituted the town walls. Here so the story goes (really) the Ewe women threw their used washing water against the wall until a hole formed and the rest is history – the Ewes fled – our lot ending up in Ho and the surrounding area. Togbe and his entourage all listened patiently as the story was told while we poked around the local voodoo shrine. Then it was time to all pile back to the school for a final speech from Togbe, more free booze and one last knees up before heading home. The convoy back was keen to reach Ho before nightfall which we just about managed – one final treat – the convoy then drove zig zag through the town, horns blaring, whistles blowing and needless to say drums drumming to celebrate our safe return – wow!
