The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born

When Koomson must crawl through the latrine, the extreme focus on scatological details reflects the sudden reversal of Koomson’s fortune. The military coup forces Koomson to deal with the consequences of his corrupt ways—and just as suddenly, his inner “rot” rises to the surface as a symbol of his criminal actions, leaving Oyo and the man to physically gag and cringe. The text describes Koomson’s mouth as having the stench of “rotten menstrual blood,” and the air around him is “thick with flatulent fear” (163). The man tells Oyo that Koomson smells terrible because he is afraid. Koomson is forced to go head-first into the hole of the latrine he had refused to use previously. This represents Koomson being forced to confront the dirty, filthy consequences of his actions.

The portrayal of the reversal in Koomson’s fortunes continues in Chapter 14. The police don’t recognize him because he is coated in latrine waste. When they arrive at the boatman’s house, he also fails to immediately recognize Koomson. This invisibility echoes Koomson and Estie’s failure to immediately recognize the main character earlier in the novel. For the first time, Koomson’s identity—as a powerful, wealthy government minister—is unstable. When they part, the man realizes that he “felt nothing for Koomson” (178). Koomson’s parting words to him that they will meet again sound “funny and childish” (178) to the man, who no longer feels envy and bitterness when he looks at his old classmate.

When the man wakes up on the beach, he sees the sun’s rays “coming very clean and clear on the water; and the sky above all open and beautiful” (180). He experiences a rare moment of quiet, calm, and clarity. He sees Sister Manaan, who he still thinks is beautiful, even though he ambiguously says that something has long been “destroyed” (180) in her. Her appearance echoes his memory from his youth of smoking wee with Sister Manaan and Kofi Billy by the seawater, but it also serves as a reminder of the destruction wrought by colonialism, war, and political greed in Ghana. When the man sees the bus driver give the policeman a bribe, it is a sign that even with another regime change, the system has not changed—there are still bribes, corruption, and deceitful officials.

When the man sees the inscription on the bus and the illustration of a flower, he is filled with a momentary hope—perhaps someday, “the beautyful ones” (183) will be born and things will truly change in Ghana. But until then, there is only an endless cycle of decay, disappointed hopes, and drudgery. When the man remembers the details of the life he’s going back to, he realizes that “this aching emptiness would be all that the remainder of his own life could offer him” (183). Even though Oyo has vindicated him for his refusal to become a wealthy, corrupt man like Koomson, the novel does not offer the man a triumphant ending. The man did the right thing, but ultimately he is not rewarded for his actions in the end. All that is left for him is a return to an unsatisfying and meaningless life in a country which no longer makes much sense to him.