from "Sarah Collins," 1749. Freestyle combat. Anansi the tactician. A warrior woman from Dahomey.
A short while later, a crowd had gathered in the village center, surrounding a circle about ten cubits in diameter, drawn in the dirt with a white powder. Big Mose was there already, flexing his muscles and acknowledging cheers from the crowd. So this contest was to be an amusement for the people.
When Mose saw Kweku approaching, he pulled his shirt off and motioned to Kweku to do the same. Adetunji walked up to ringside, carrying his staff of office. "These are the rules. One: This is freestyle combat. No holds barred. Two: The object is to expel your opponent from the ring. Three: For you to score, both your opponent's feet must touch the ground outside the circle. Four: The first contestant to score three expulsions shall be deemed the winner. Five: The fight continues until one contestant has been expelled three times. Except that as referee I may call a halt. Now I want you to fight like gentlemen, with honor."
Kweku felt a tiny tickle inside his ear. "Ssh!" Anansi whispered in his ear. "I am on the scene. Right now I'm securing myself into place with my stickiest silk. This will be a rough ride. Now just do as I direct you, and it will go well for you."
Adetunji said, "First go to the center and shake hands." Big Mose's smile seemed full of derision as they shook. "Now withdraw to opposite edges of the circle. And then at my signal you approach again, and the fight is on. May victory go to the true warrior!" He lifted his staff and, holding it perpendicular, struck the butt of it against a block of wood.
At the signal, Big Mose instantly began striding in Kweku's direction. Anansi said, "To the center! Fast! Don't let him edge you out!" and Kweku ran at his opponent. Not knowing what else to do, he used his momentum to throw his bulk at Mose's chest in hopes of knocking him off balance. However, Mose seemed to absorb the direct impact without budging an inch. Then he grabbed the astonished Kweku's arms and, lifting him clear of the ground, simply marched to the edge of the circle and tossed him to land a few feet outside of it. The crowd roared. This was one of their favorite maneuvers.
Kweku got up and dashed to the center of the circle before Mose could react. When the giant turned around and reached to grab his arms again, Kweku was prepared and dug his heels backward into the ground. He put up a fierce struggle that slowed Mose's attack; nevertheless, he was inexorably pushed to the edge of the circle and over. Mose even set one foot outside the circle as he dumped Kweku to the ground, the other foot stretched out safe behind him.
As Kweku got back up, dashing the sweat from his eyes, he saw Shehu standing nearby in the crowd, eyes gazing into the middle distance as he counted Muslim litanies on a string of beads, chanting rhythmically under his breath, absorbed in concentration. This was a practice of marabouts, wild Muslim holy men, many of whom had reputations as wonder workers.
Anansi, what about the advice you promised me? Anansi said, "Patience, dear fellow! I have been taking his measure. Noting his tactics and weak points." Kweku prepared to dash to the center again. But Mose stood just inside the ring, blocking his path, legs hunkered wide. Anansi said, "You can move faster than him! Dive between his legs!"
Big Mose was already beginning to lean forward to grab Kweku, who suddenly dropped to the ground and shot right between the giant's legs. Mose was utterly baffled as he grasped thin air. As Kweku began to rise up behind him, Anansi said, "He's off balance. Throw yourself at his back."
Planting his feet firmly into the ground, Kweku sprang up, driving his shoulder between Mose's shoulder blades. This caused Mose to stumble… and then topple over the edge. The crowd roared louder than ever. Here was something new.
Kweku drew back toward the center as Mose rushed at him. Anansi said, "Run in circles!" So Kweku began running an outward-spiraling path, outflanking his opponent. Several laughs came from the crowd, and Kweku heard someone calling him crazy. Mose halted not far inside the ring, trying to figure out what Kweku was doing. As Kweku was darting around behind his back, Mose began to pivot to follow him. Kweku ran halfway around him again, until Mose's pivoting had left him off balance. Then Kweku grabbed Mose's wrist in both hands and used all their combined angular momentum to spin him around. Mose spun completely outside the ring, while Kweku was flung even harder inward. Now the score was tied. Shehu was still absorbed in his quiet chanting, as though oblivious to the uproar around him.
Mose had none of his smug self-assurance left. He was beginning to look quite angry. Shaking his head to clear it of dizziness, he began a stomping run helter-skelter at Kweku. Anansi said, "You're closer to the ground. He commands the height, but you command the lowness. Your advantage is in lowness." Strange idea, but...
Nimble on his feet, Kweku drew back, almost to the far edge of the circle, and gestured for Mose to come at him. This insolence infuriated the giant, who was lumbering across the ring like a runaway carriage. At the last instant before Mose was upon him, Kweku dropped to ground in a low crouch, protecting his head and rounding his shoulders, and rolled himself inward, striking Mose's feet at an oblique angle. Thrown by his own momentum, Mose went sprawling in the dirt outside the circle.
The spectators were beside themselves with excitement at Kweku's victory, but it took a little while to sink in that he had won. As he got up, Li'l Betty whooped, ran up to him, and embraced him so hard that she lifted his feet off the ground and squeezed the wind out of him. Adetunji shouted above the din, "Kweku of the Akan is the winner-and our newest citizen!" Then the villagers lifted Kweku to their shoulders and carried him in a triumphal procession to the council lodge, singing an old African song.
Shehu brought him a mug of cider while reciting praises to Allah. "I was praying for you the whole time! Say, Li'l Betty is really something isn't she?" Kweku grinned and nodded. "She was a renowned warrior in Dahomey," Shehu added, "though now she is older. But not old like me!" He laughed.
Anansi whispered, "Well done, my protégé. Well done...." and vanished, leaving a spot of sticky silk in the hollow of Kweku's ear.