Was it two years ago I teased my friend Ace Ankomah that his Birim river was gone: Birim, filthy to the brim?
Yes, our greed for blood and power had poisoned the pride of Akims to death. Soon, River Densu followed wailing, and I remember calling on Kojo Antwi to rally friends to redeem the River that inspired his love songs.
Then River Pra, her sanctity defiled, bled to death.
Oti tiptoed to its grave also, the spiritual father of colleagues, so-named.
And we buried the River Offin, to quietly rest in the coffin.
Along with tragic departures went the pride of all people so named: the Pras, Densus, Otis, and Ghana. But here comes the breaking news.
River Ayensu, the breast milk of the Central Region, is the latest to join the departed.
Not trusting social media, I dashed off to Kwanyako to verify and check the fate of the river that nurtured me. Never did I expect Ayensu’s fertile womb to have turned into a culvert, spewing mud, silt, poison– fouled beyond recognition.
Leaning on the railings along the polluted river, I saw it flow haltingly, limping southwards with faded dignity.
One after the other, our rivers exit before our very eyes, and we stand and stare waiting for the last stream to die, and wipe our self-identity.
21st September, our Founder’s birthday, the link between ecocide and historic sites played out at a little theatre in the Western region.
A colourful celebration of ‘Nkrumafest’ took place at Nkroful to commemorate the ideals of Africa’s greatest hero.
Right behind the Nkrumah mausoleum, however, was an embarrassing spectacle: a Galamsey site virtually behind the Nkrumah monument.
Not only is River Ankobra, the pride of Nzemas, heavily polluted, but the closest stream to the mausoleum is also gone.
Indeed, traces of Nkrumah’s river experience while carried at the back of Mother Nyaneba (in his Memoires), may have been swallowed in Galamsey poison.
Weep not, Kwanyako, you are not alone.
As an Agona born, I am naturally shattered along with multitudes in the Kwanyako zone.
The Kwanyako treatment plant that purified Ayensu has been shut down, sending parents, children and high school students far afield in a desperate search for streams.
Pipe-borne water only trickles and may be available at odd hours. In abundance, it offers a strange chocolate drink that may not quench your thirst.
But the mishap cuts deeper; Ayensu is partly a family name given to our younger brother by the old man to honour his best friend.
The river’s appellation explains why the river’s exit is a big blow.
Hear the praise name: ‘Ayensu, the mystical river that floods in times of drought.’
This praise appellation was chanted by the old lady to cajole the young Ayensu, ahead of errands.
The disaster deeply hurts the people of Kwanyako, who are known heroes in the fight against Galamsey. In February 2024, the Paramount chief, with the support of elders and people, vehemently opposed an attempt by the Minerals Commission to mine lithium close to the water treatment plant.
It was going to degrade the environment and poison their primary water sources, the chief said at a press conference.
It also means the current Kwanyako disaster has its sources elsewhere, and not from local connivance. Kwanyako and environs are unfortunate victims of eco-terrorism situated upstream in the eastern region, precisely Anum Apapamu.
Ayensu’s departure means much more.
Our forefathers were sceptical when the treatment plant was installed at Kwanyako in 1964.
Clean river water was a joy to taste and behold, particularly the sight of dragonflies, ‘agyengyensuo,’ restless at polluted sites, gobbling mosquitoes and cleansing the river of intruders.
Those little flies were nature’s treatment plants. Later in life, we missed bathing by the riverside in spite of the risks involved.
In open space, you were likely to expose your little manhood in broad daylight. But there was a way out; it meant squeezing your little thing in between your thighs along with the pair of pillows beneath— just in case naughty girls were watching.
Oh, what fun we had along the tributaries of Ayensu.
Ayensu is now gone, joining other polluted landmarks as we look on as a sovereign nation.
Let policy makers at the next tea break, simply try the newest drink on offer from the Central region. Call it ‘Ayensu Juice.’ Sugar Free.
By Kwesi Yankah
Farewell, River Ayensu.
kyankah@ashesi.edu.gh
