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CHAPTER III-Mansa Musa

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Deputy Vizier Of Mali

In 2012 ‘Celebrity Net Worth’ took out a list of the worlds’ twenty-five wealthiest people of all times after adjusting to inflation. Mansa Musa was listed on top of the list above names like Bill Gates and Warren Buffett. It was calculated that Mansa Musa had a personal net worth of 400 billion at the time of his death. The Rothschild family was placed at number two at 350 billion. The primary reason behind Mansa Musa’s extraordinary wealth was that Mali was responsible for more than half the world’s salt and gold supply. Out of all the Muslim rulers of West Africa Mansa Musa was the most powerful, the richest, the most fortunate, and the most feared by his enemies and the most able to do well to those around him.

My journey didn’t start as an adult as it may seem, born in 1280, my life goes back to when I was knee high to a chicken. Even then I tried my best to catch that chicken after being pecked across the forehead a dozen times. After watching my father Faga Laye Keita catch and ring the chicken neck in five minutes, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my father was a pro. My father was a great farmer, who were pleased with the normal way of life. No more or no less. He never wanted to become a Mansa like our forefathers and kindred.

My brother and sisters didn’t have to lack for anything because my father utilized us before we could talk. When the work seized in the hot scorching heat, my brother and sisters went to the playing fields where the other children would be practicing their sports with the kick ball or training with the wooden sticks pretending they were swords for war. After hearing all the foretell stories of our forefathers in their battles, we thought that it was our obligation to be the best soldier or warrior we could be.

So, unlike my father I wanted to become the best fighter that ever been, first and far more than the ‘The Lion King,’ my great uncle Sundiata. But no one could compare with him. My grandfather Abubakari I was a great warrior also, and he fought alongside my great-uncle and the great General Tiramakhan Traore, in which his great grandson Batula is my best friend. We played in the big open field until nightfall three times a week. The remaining part of the week we had to study our Holy Koran, and it was my most desirable time, because for some reason I thought I was really getting closer and closer to Allah.

During the summer months, we worked the fields and trained to be warriors, played kickball and during the winter we went to school to learn Arabic, math, science, and geography/astronomy. My younger brother Suleyman stayed very close to me, as I learned, he learned, but not as well. I was named after my mother Kankou, which is the Mande female name, but my name Kankan Musa Keita were more of a male flow. We had lots of cousins and a big family that reached far as the great Niger River.

When I graduated and finished head of my class, some of the dignitaries which were my relatives demanded for me to come to the inner courts. Then onto the antechambers where I was introduced to my duties of the Royal Courts. One dignitary told me they had been watching me for a long time, and that I had a benignant spirit and that I was a teemed little boy growing up. I didn’t have a clue that eyes were peeping through the invisible curtains in the dark. At first my younger brother Suleyman became very sullen toward me until I explained to him the order of most occasions required the oldest and that he was to be next in line.

Working in the Royal Courts were so different than working for my father. After turning sixteen years old, things became better because my brother could assist me at fourteen years of age. Suleyman wanted royalty more than I, but were humble to learn as much as he could from me. We kept up with all the paperwork involving the gold and salt mines that were in our area. Bookkeeping were very stressful, and just because, Suleyman and I ran each other around the dark corridors frolicking through the labyrinth just for some fun and relief.

I couldn’t neglect the thought of being a powerful warrior when my brother and I watched our friends in the courtyard of armament training for war, while we went toward the mines to manage the duties of the slaves. My best friend Batula Traore caught my eye as we stared at each other. He was undoubtedly on his way to be a champion while I was playing with paperwork. I felt very deeply graved and I knew Batula felt me through our eyes. My thoughts rushed through my lips as I said to my brother, “One day, I too will be back in the training fields.”

“But brother Musa why would you want to wallow in the mud like a heathen.”

“Don’t get above yourself my little brother. We supposed to be where they are, but because of our bloodline here we are.”

“For one thing, I don’t like it when you call me little brother. Plus, we were chosen for this destiny. You can’t feel bad for that my brother.”

Musa smiled as they continued walking toward the mines, and he had to ease out a last-minute remark before entering in the mines.

“Remember this Suley, where there is much glory, there are much doom.”

Before Suleyman could respond, he was cut off by the introduction at the mine. The guards at the mines were very polite and orderly. The same order Mansa Sundiata ruled, it was the same order my grandfather Mansa Abubakari I and my cousin resides as Mansa Abubakari II rules by. Right then I thought to myself that if I ever could become a Mansa I would rule like them. I loved the order of command they ruled by, so I vowed to make a more effective ruled that will surpass all possibilities and create observation toward a most prominent kingdom ever been. But in the meantime, as my brother and I toured around the gold mine, we were amazed of the dedication of the workers going down 60 feet into the earth through a twenty, maybe twenty-five or thirty-inch diameter hole. We were at awe at the amount of gold hurled up in a bucket and rope like a well of water.

Then the next tour encountered the salt mines where the same dedication occurred. Servants cutting square picture frames of salt from the walls. One of the guards handed my brother and I a ‘Rock Salt’ to lick, which were made of earth and salt and was normally used in the tense heat to keep from dehydrating. A lick of the rock salt keeps the body from dilapidation and the mind from delirium.

“Is it good my brother Musa to be born in royalty,” Suley asked.

“Yes, brother Suley, it is definitely good. And that’s not being braggadocios, but thankful to Allah.”

Thrusting through the savanna dusty sand while leaning sideways on one of the training Arabian stallions, trying to dodge the wooden fake javelin Batula nearly subdued me with. But while straightening up on my mare I twirled my baton and hit Batula in the back of the head with the back of my baton. Mansa Abubakari II and the audience applauded the agility of my body. I finally got my chance to get back out in the field to perform the war games with my comrades by convincing cousin Abu to give me a break off the paperwork. Suleyman remained with the paperwork to embrace royalty, and that differs from us. Getting my hands dirty was a pleasure to me. We trained with wooden swords, but it didn’t lessen the injuries. Spear throwing were fifty to a hundred yards and archery were very essential. I loved every moment of counting myself as a warrior like my forefathers. And sparring some of the great ancestor general’s descendants made it that much challenging.

My challenging comrades were the grandsons of the great warriors and warlords of the great Mansa Sundiata Keita. There was Teferi, one who is ferocious and feared by his rivals, and the grandson of Tabon Wana the warrior for the great Mansa Sundiata Keita. There was Senghor, descendant of the gods, grandson of Kamadia Kamara the warlord. Then there was Sule, the adventurous, grandson of Faony Conde the warlord. There was Dia Tau, champion lion, grandson of Siara Kumon Konate the warrior. Finally, there were the two brothers, Basel the brave and Batula, my protector, grandsons of the great General Tiramakhan Traore, and finally, Sagmandia, one of the last generals of Mansa Abubakari II. And of course, my name Musa Keita is defined as ‘mercy’ or ‘saved by the water,’ and the ‘worshiper.’ The grandson of General Abubakari Keita I.

Cousin Abubakari Keita II had a military regiment of sixty thousand warriors that kept law and peace within the regions of Mali. He spoke to me occasionally about the other provinces and states that wanted our territory. The kings that plotted against him to conquer and overthrow the kingdom, which gave him a quiet but secure worry. Secure because of the sixty thousand warriors, but quiet worry because of his attention were mainly on voyage and navigating.

The ruler of Songhai was causing havoc with the order of the law with the traders that visited to trade their goods. One of our captains came riding in from off the road injured and bloody. So, Mansa Abu relieved the mariner enough to handle the situation with Emperor Sonni Ali of Songhai by sending a signed seal letter of ordinance. Through the rebellion of the Emperor, the letter of ordinance was totally ripped apart and the carrier whipped and sent back as a message to Mansa Abu Bakr II. They knew Mansa Abu had set aside the kingdom for his exploits of his navigating dreams. So, with the sign of weakness they became intrepid toward our empire with severe threats. Mansa Abubakari II really was absurd with the disturbance. I assumed with the distraction from the shipbuilding or the safety of the empire, I really couldn’t tell which.

I had just turned nineteen and felt like a full-grown man ready for war. I couldn’t bear disruption, it made me very repulsive to the point of retaliation. I asked to speak with cousin Abu and he agreed. “Cousin Abu, can I suggest at a youthful age?”

“Of course, cousin Musa, age doesn’t make a man, the man makes the age work for himself in any endeavor.”

“Thanks cousin Abu, I suggest that we go strong into the enemy territory before he tries to come in ours.”

“And how do we propose this scrupulous attack cousin Musa?”

“I think we should hit them hard at the night of the festival during the ‘Sale of the Salt Tablets,’ which is in a few days.”

“Smart thinking cousin Musa! Therefore, I want to put you in charge as my Deputy Vizier. I will swear you in tomorrow. It will be challenging because your peers will envy you to the point of destroying you, so you will need to stay focus.”

I was speechless and surprised but willingly open for the opportunity that awakes me. I bowed with gratefulness of the promotion on one knee.

“I much fully accept my Mansa Abu.”

Mansa Abu lifted me up by grabbing me by the elbows and gave me a big hug of congratulation, and recited, “I will declare to all the people and clergymen in the morning of this recommendation and solemnly swear you in. Now go and prepare for your conquest.”

The Demise Of An Emperor Before The Atlantic Slave Trade

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