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This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Gray Dawn

S >> Stewart Edward White >> The Gray Dawn




Keith stirred and looked about him. Objects were already becoming dimly
visible. Suddenly something attracted his attention. He held his head
sideways, listening. Faintly down the little land breeze came the sound of
a bell. It was the Vigilante tocsin. Nan sat up, blinking and putting her
hair back from her eyes. She laughed a little happily.

"Why, it's the dawn!" she cried, "We've been out all night!"

"The dawn," repeated Keith, his arm about her, but his ear attuned to the
beat of the distant bell. "The gray dawn of better things."




LXXVIII


As the Keiths, on the way, drove across what is now Harbour View, they
stopped to watch a bark standing out through the Golden Gate before the
gentle morning land breeze. She made a pretty sight, for the new-risen sun
whitened her sails. Aboard her was the arch-plotter, Morrell. Had they
known of that fact, it is to be doubted whether they would have felt any
great disappointment over his escape, or any deep animosity at all. The
outcome of his efforts had been clarifying. The bark was bound for the
Sandwich Islands. Morrell's dispositions for flight at a moment's notice
had been made long since; in fact, since the first days of Vigilante
activity. He lingered in the islands for some years, at first cutting quite
a dash; then, as his money dwindled and his schemes failed, he degenerated
slowly. His latter end was probably as a small copra trader in the South
Seas; but that is unknown. Mrs. Morrell--if indeed she was the man's legal
wife at all--thus frankly abandoned, put a bold front on the whole matter.
She returned to her house. As the Keiths in no manner molested her, she
took heart. With no resources other than heavily mortgaged real property,
she found herself forced to do something for a living. In the course of
events we see Mrs. Morrell keeping a flashy boarding-house, hanging
precariously on the outer fringe of the lax society of the times, frowned
upon by the respectable, but more or less sought by the fast men and young
girls only too numerous among the idle of that day.

Ben Sansome went south. For twenty years he lived in Los Angeles, where he
cut a figure, but from which he always cast longing eyes back upon San
Francisco. He had a furtive lookout for arrivals from the north. One day,
however, he came face to face with Keith. As the latter did not annihilate
him on the spot, Sansome plucked up courage. He returned to San Francisco,
There in time he attained a position dear to his heart; he became an "old
beau," frequenting the teas and balls, appraising the debutantes, giving
his opinion on vintage wines, leading a comfortable, idle, selfish,
useless, graceful life. His only discomfort was his occasional encounters
with the Keiths. Mrs. Keith never distinguished him from thin air unless
others were present. Keith had always in his eye a gleam of contempt which,
perhaps, Sansome acknowledged, was natural; but it was a contempt with a
dash of amusement in it, and that galled. Still--Ben was satisfied. He
gained the distinction of having discovered the epicurean value of sand-
dabs.

The Sherwoods founded the family of that name.

Terry, arrested for the stabbing of Hopkins, was at first very humble,
promising to resign his Supreme Court Judgeship. As time went on he became
arrogant. The Committee of Vigilance was rather at a loss. If Hopkins died,
they could do no less than hang Terry: and they realized fully that in
executing a Justice of the Supreme Court they were entering deep waters. To
the relief of everybody Hopkins fully recovered. After being held closely
in custody, Terry was finally released, with a resolution that he be
declared unfit for office. Once free, however, he revised his intention of
resigning. His subsequent career proved as lawless and undisciplined as its
earlier promise. Finally he was killed while in the act of attempting to
assassinate Justice Stephen Field, an old, weak, helpless, and unarmed man.
If Terry holds any significance in history, it is that of being the
strongest factor in the complete wrecking of the Law and Order party!

For with the capture of the arsenals, and all their arms, open opposition
to the Committee of Vigilance came to an end. The Executive Committee
continued its work. Numberless malefactors and suspects were banished; two
more men, Hetherington and Brace, were solemnly hanged. On the 8th. of
August the cells were practically empty. It was determined to disband on
the 21st.

That ceremony was signalized by a parade on the 18th. Four regiments of
infantry, two squadrons of cavalry, a battalion of riflemen, a battalion of
pistol men, and a battalion of police were in line. The entire city turned
out to cheer.

As for the effects of this movement, the reader must be referred to the
historians. It is sufficient to say that for years San Francisco enjoyed a
model government and almost complete immunity from crime.

One evening about twilight two men stood in the gathering shadows of the
Plaza. They were old friends, but had in times of stress stood on opposite
sides. The elder man shook his head skeptically.

"That is all very well," said he, "but where are your Vigilantes now?"

The other raised his hand toward the great bell of the Monumental
silhouetted against the afterglow in the sky.

"Toll that bell, sir, and you will see!" replied Coleman solemnly.

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