Palaver sauce: a thematic selection of West African proverbs

Verbatim, Wntr, 2002 by Martin Wilmot Bennett

"If you never offer your uncle palmwine, you'll not learn many proverbs," prompts a Ghanaian saying. The advice seems to have been well-heeded. Proverbs throughout West Africa are in plentiful supply. Naming ceremonies, marriages, funerals; conversations in urban beer-parlours or by the palm-winetapper's fire; traditional folk-tales, some modern West African novels, highlife lyrics: these are just a few possible sources. Sierra Leoneans say: "Proverbs are the daughters of experience." Or to put it another way, "When the occasion comes, the proverb comes." (Oji, Ghana)

Whereas in Western societies proverbs have been mostly relegated to quaint decoration, in West Africa they are still part-and-parcel of everyday discourse, a sort of soundbite for the everyman. Thus the claim: "When a proverb is told, only a fool needs it explained." "Proverbs are horses for solving problems" claims another example. "When truth is missing, proverbs are used to uncover it." And if the thought expressed is often less than original, it doesn't matter: "Other people's wisdom frequently prevents the chief from being called a fool." As a Yoruba saying has it: "He who knows proverbs can settle disputes." Not only can a well-aimed proverb save a thousand words of explanation; it can also help in discussing awkward home truths with a minimum of embarrassment. Seriousness and humor, focus and distance are authoritatively combined. Perhaps this is what underlies: "When a chief deals out a dish, it becomes cold."

One practical function of proverbs, then, is keeping matters in perspective. Indeed the structure of many proverbs resembles a pair of scales. "There are forty kinds of madness, only one kind of common sense." (Akan, Ghana) The idea of balance is also found in: "Exuberance is not good, but meanness is not good at all." More symmetrical still is "When your guns are few, your words are few." (Oji) There's further weighing things up in "This year's wisdom is next year's folly." Striking a happy medium, a Yoruba proverb reminds parents: "If with the right hand you flog a child, with the left draw him to your breast." The telling contrast also serves to remind us of the wider scheme of things: "When carrying elephant's flesh on one's head, one should not look for crickets underground." Or, for another occasion: "The keeping of one's head exceeds the keeping of one's hat." (Fulani) Paradox is majestically embodied in the Akan: "The moon moves slowly, yet it crosses the town." Continuing the theme of measurement and scale, consider: "Debt is measured in a hippo's footprints" (Tiv, Central Nigeria) And truth? According to the Ibo, it "is worth more than a dozen goats."

Already we see how animals are a common proverbial feature. One reason, as in folk tales, is to provide a element of humor. "If a baboon could see his behind, he'd laugh also"; "The cock crows proudly on his own dunghill" are just two examples. Another reason is that animals supply easy scapegoats for our all-too-human failings. On our general fallibility we get: "A horse has four legs, yet often falls." (Tiv) For laziness: "The dog's happy dream produces no meat." For the nastier type of opportunism: "Ants surround the dying elephant." On the non-payment of debt: "Spider hides under a stone." (Ewe, Ghana) On the age-old gap between rich and poor, you may hear the pidgin: "Monkey dey work, baboon dey chop." For obstinacy, or a heavyweight equivalent of the English dog in a manger: "The hippo blocked the road and nobody could get across." (Tiv) For caution: "In new surroundings the hen walks on one leg." (Ibo) To conjure a sinister sense of occasion again the Ibo use: "The toad does not jump in the daylight for nothing." Even more disquietingly portentous is the Sierra Leonean: "The bat hangs downwards because of the words told it by the sun." As a portrait of the very human know-all, it'd be hard to beat the Yoruba: "`I know it perfectly' prevents the wasp from learning to make honey." Arrogance, for better or worse, is vividly dealt with in: "The lizard jumped down from the Iroko tree, and said, `If there is nobody else to praise me, I will praise myself.'"

In the world of proverbs not only animus take on human dimensions; so, rather more ingeniously, do everyday objects. "The ax forgets; the tree does not," states one vivid example. "An empty sack cannot stand up, a full sack cannot bend," cautions another from Nigeria, in a homely expression of the golden mean. Respect for the elders is embodied in "A pond is not a companion to a river" (Ibo); secrecy in "Try to hide your secret and even grass is a spy"; the dangers of opinionation in the animistic: `The stream won't be advised; therefore its path is crooked." For an emphatic equivalent of our own English proverb, consider: "Walls have ears, and little pots too." As an injunction against haste, the Ga say: "A hot needle burns the thread." For the delicate business of looking for a wife or husband, one might use, "There's a lid for every pot, a key for every lock." And then, after finding one, try: "The cleared field looks good, the growing crop looks better," this a proverbial echo of the more literal "Children's laughter is music to the ears of the elders." (Akan) For cooperation, marital or otherwise, take the mysteriously obvious: "The sharpest knife cannot carve its own handle." For a less than ideal view of family there's the Duala saying: "The spear of kinship soon pierces the eye." The same language expresses the naturalness of hard work in the more peaceable: "The pot is not tired of cooking." To bring home the division of labour, the Ho in Ghana use other utensils: "The spoon does his job, the dish does his." On the possibly unfair results of work (or lack of it), another saying points out: "The pot cooks; the plate gets the name."