King Peggy
Page 38
Otherwise, King Peggy is the account of the transformation of an impoverished African village by its American lady king, a tale of challenges and triumphs that is often stranger than fiction and made more poignant by virtue of being real.
Acknowledgments
When I first became king of Otuam, I had no idea that people would find my story interesting. It was my co-author, Eleanor Herman, whom I happened to meet at a Ghanaian embassy reception, who convinced me that my journey was indeed fascinating and many people would like to read about it. Thanks to Eleanor for seeing what I could not see and making this book possible. Thanks also for her good humor, encouragement, and friendship along the way.
I am grateful to Elizabeth Koranteng, the embassy colleague who insisted I take the kingship of Otuam despite my initial reservations. I would certainly be remiss if I neglected to thank my regent, Nana Kwesi Acheampong, for so beautifully renovating my palace and dealing with Otuam’s many headaches during my long absences, and his nephew, Francis Bondzie-Quaye, for his logistical support during my visits. Neither can I forget Casely Kweku Mensah, known as Nana Tufu, for sponsoring my gazetting, and my beloved brother, Papa A. Warrior, for being there when I needed him most.
My nephew, Richard Ekow Blavo, known as Ekow, holds a special place in my heart. I am so darned proud of him. In a place without rehab clinics or Alcoholics Anonymous, he has become clean and sober through sheer determination and the power of prayer.
I am overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of Shiloh Baptist Church of Landover, Maryland, and its wise and charismatic pastor, Be Louis Colleton. Surely God has answered my prayers to help my people by sending Pastor Colleton my way. I know I can count on his leadership as we move forward with additional improvements to Otuam—the school, children’s scholarships, library, latrine, and ambulance. I would also like to thank Reverend Clarence Brock, head of Shiloh’s Foreign Missions Ministry, who visited Otuam twice, for his devotion to improving the lives of my people. May God bless them and the church for their tireless efforts to help those less fortunate. Many religious organizations talk the talk, but Shiloh Baptist walks the walk.
I dedicated this book to my mother, Madam Mary E. Vormoah, who passed away at the age of eighty-four in Sekondi, Ghana. She taught me the values I live by, and I am strong, honest, and loving because of her. She also taught me not to be afraid of anyone except Almighty God, and to have a basket full of iron balls to swing around as needed. I miss her dearly. May she rest in peace.
Lastly, I am grateful to my people, the citizens of Otuam, for their loyalty, support, and love. May I continue to prove worthy of it.
— PB
In February 2009 I attended a reception at the embassy of Ghana in Washington, D.C., where I didn’t know a soul. Suddenly feeling an awkwardness unusual for a life-of-the-party author, I decided to play a game I had invented years earlier: scrutinize everyone, decide which individual looked the most interesting, march up with hand extended, and introduce myself.
My gaze rested on a robust woman of indeterminate age, wearing African attire and standing alone on the side, calmly surveying the party as if she owned the place. Struck by her dignity, I chose her as my victim and introduced myself. “Peggy Bartels,” she replied. “I’m a secretary here.”
Somehow it disturbed me that she wasn’t eating or drinking while the party was rapidly descending into a bacchanalia. “Can I get you some food or a glass of wine?” I inquired.
She shook her head. “I’m a king, you see, and we are not supposed to eat or drink in public.”
“King?” I asked, thinking perhaps I had misunderstood. “King of what? ”
“King of a community in Ghana called Otuam,” she replied. “A few months ago, my uncle died, and I became the king.”
As an author fascinated by the intersection of women, royalty, and power, I knew I had found the subject for my next book.
Naturally, writing this book required me to spend substantial time in Ghana with the king. My first thank-you goes to my husband, Michael Dyment, who, as Africans familiar with the story say with wonder, “allowed” his wife to go to Otuam. It sounds strange to a middle-aged, liberated American woman for her husband to allow her to do something, but he ended up supporting this project, feeding my cats, cleaning their litter, walking the dog, and doing all the household chores I normally do, without complaint and despite his hectic business schedule. I was absolutely delighted that he joined me for a few days on my second monthlong trip to Otuam. Thanks also to our kids, Sam, Phil, and Rachel Dyment, for their fascination with this constantly unfolding “very cool” story.
My initial interest in Africa was inspired by Alexander McCall Smith’s No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series. Utterly charmed by the stories, I fantasized of going on African adventures with his charming protagonist, Mma Ramotswe, even though that clearly was impossible since she didn’t exist. Little did I know that my dream would, in a way, come true.
I also extend my sincere gratitude to my amazing agent, Dorian Karchmar of William Morris Endeavor, and my editor, Kris Puopolo at Doubleday, for their enthusiasm and excellent editorial advice. I couldn’t have done it without them.
When I first cheerfully got on a plane headed for Ghana I had no idea that the experience would be life-changing. There are many Americans—I myself was one of them—who live in big houses with every luxury money can buy and who are, nonetheless, stressed, depressed, and take for granted so much of what we have. Until my trip to Otuam, I was never grateful for the faucet that brought me clean water, hot or cold, at a touch. For flush toilets. For the ambulance that arrives at our doors within minutes of a 911 call. For food and clothing, heating and air-conditioning. Yet most of the people of Otuam, despite their poverty and their lack of water, a health care, and educational opportunities, are grateful for every blessing and find joy in their faith, families, and friends in a way that those of us trapped in suburban depression can’t imagine. I have learned much from them, and they have my heartfelt thanks for teaching me life’s most valuable lesson.
Last but not least, I am grateful to King Peggy, who has become a dear friend. I want to thank her for taking the strange, annoying white woman to Otuam despite her initial shock at the request. I admire her stubborn determination to make a better life for her people and her spunk, wisdom, and humor, all of which made writing this story a very great pleasure.
Having witnessed firsthand the myriad difficulties of being king—and particularly the king of Otuam—I am more than satisfied in my position as royal scribe and have no aspirations to a throne. Honestly, I couldn’t begin to do what King Peggy does. This realization causes me to look at her with wonder, respect, and not a little awe.
— EH
Illustrations
King Peggy in her royal funeral regalia, leaving the hotel for the funeral ceremony of the late king of Otuam (Courtesy of Sarah Preston)
King Peggy’s beloved mother (Courtesy of Peggielene Bartels)
King Peggy (right) and her brother Papa Warrior as children in Ghana (Courtesy of Peggielene Bartels)
King Peggy as a young secretary at a reception at the Ghanaian embassy (Courtesy of Peggielene Bartels)
Main Street in Otuam (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Fishing boats on Otuam’s coast (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Nana Kwesi, King Peggy’s regent (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Ekow, King Peggy’s nephew (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Moses, King Peggy’s uncle and one of the senior elders in Otuam (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Papa Warrior (Courtesy of Peggielene Bartels)
King Peggy and her Soul in the palanquin during her coronation ceremony (Courtesy of Peggielene Bartels)
Pastor Be Louis Colleton (second from right) of Shiloh Baptist Church presents the covenant with Otuam to King Peggy (Courtesy of Peggielene Bartels)
The old palace in ruins before King Peggy restored it (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Children fetching water in the dirty stream used by families before Peggy became king (PhotographerJaneHahn/GettyImages)
One of King Peggy’s new boreholes, which provide free public access to clean water (Courtesy of Sarah Preston)
King Peggy’s tsiami pours libations to bless the water in the new boreholes (Courtesy of Eleanor Herman)
Pastor Be Louis Colleton and members of the Shiloh Baptist Church, dressed in traditional garb, attend the royal funeral (Courtesy of Sarah Preston)
About the Authors
PEGGIELENE BARTELS was born in Ghana in 1953 and moved to Washington, D.C., in her mid-twenties to work at Ghana’s embassy. She became an American citizen in 1997. In 2008, she was chosen to be king of Otuam, a Ghanaian village of seven thousand souls on the west coast of Africa. She lives in Silver Spring, Maryland, still works at the embassy, and spends several weeks each year in Ghana.
ELEANOR HERMAN is the author of three books of women’s history, including the New York Times bestseller Sex with Kings and Sex with the Queen. Her profile of Peggy was a cover story for The Washington Post Magazine. She lives in McLean, Virginia.
Also by Eleanor Herman
Sex with Kings
Sex with the Queen
Mistress of the Vatican