African biblical hermeneutics has been defined as a method of interpretation that:

Ngwa (2022:29) observes that it is an interpretive act ‘that resists marginalization and creates new forms of being, belonging and knowing, not from methodological leftovers from so-called mainstream epistemologies, but from its own constructive resources’. Adamo (2015b:33) admits that this premeditatedly Afrocentric approach does not claim absolute objectivity, but argues that ‘there has never been an interpretation that has been without references to or dependent on a particular cultural code, thought patterns or social location of the interpreter’. African biblical hermeneutics thus aims at reaching beyond the ecclesio-theological missionary heritage, to a deeper engagement with ‘territorial communities, accepted community mores and a wide variety of issues unique to Africa’ (Meenan 2014:268).

Scholars generally agree that the constructive resources which Ngwa mentions include a variety of oral literature comprising proverbs, chronicles, historic narrations, and sayings (Mundele 2012:79). Amenga-Etego (2022:8) amplifies this idea, observing that beyond oral resources, material and performative elements such as dance, totems, amulets, charms, shrines, and symbols must be taken into consideration. Parrinder (1968:4) emphasises that these resources, which he calls scripture, have for a long time been overlooked by scholars. Mtshiselwa (2016:2) has argued equally for the importance of studying these resources to the contextual readers of the Hebrew Bible, arguing that these contain insights important for unravelling the biblical message and making it relevant for contemporary contexts.

Mensah (2025:14–15) notes that African scholars have responded to the call to pay attention to these elements of culture. Olojede (2014:1–2) uses narrative and Mtshiselwa (2016:1–3) uses songs to interpret the Old Testament. These are commendable initiatives to use indigenous resources. This study contributes to the conversation by studying engaging the Owuo atwedie, an indigenous text from the Adinkra textual system of the Akan of Ghana and la Côte d’Ivoire, to show how this text interacts with the theme of death in Psalm 90.

Firstly, I intend to adopt an exegetic-theological reading of Psalm 90 with a special focus on its internal structure to engage the theme of death and human transience. Secondly, Turner’s three-step exegetical approach – the exegetical, operational, and positional analysis – will be used to examine the Adinkra text, Owuo atwedie (Mensah 2024:1–2; Turner 1973:1100–1103).

There is reason, however, to propose a five-fold division to the Psalm. The frame, composed of an opening and closing strophe (vv. 1–2, 17) as observed by other scholars, forms an inclusio around the Psalm (VanGemeren 1991:592; Witczyk 2020:537). This is sustained by the repetition of the references to the divine [אלהים / אל, אדני]at the opening and closing of the Psalm. Moreover, the reference to the work of human hands [מעשה ידינו] in verse 17 recalls the work of God’s hands, namely the mountains [הרים], the earth (ארץ), and the world [תבל], all mentioned in verse 2.

Strophe II (vv. 3–6) is marked by a root-play between the term תשב (√שוב), which opens the strophe, and יבש (√יבש), which closes it. The internal structure of the strophe consists of a logically ordered reference to intervals of time in decreasing sequence. This is illustrated in Box 1.

Strophe II is bound by a series of references to time periods. Years [שנים] are composed of days [יום] and nights [לילה], while days are further composed of mornings [בקר] and evenings [ערב]. More importantly, the human condition spoken of, described with the terms אנוש and אדם, is essentially mortal and is gradually drained of time, from years, through days, and finally to minute units of time. Zenger (in Hossfeld & Zenger 2000:610) revisits the debate surrounding the use of the term דכא [dust], referring either to a violent death, or simply to the dust from which humankind was created (Gn 3:19). The use of the term דכא in verse 3 should, however, not be read in isolation from the term אדם in the same verse, evoking its cognate אדמה (Gn 2:7) from which humankind was made. Thus, the withering of the grass (חציר, v. 6) is metaphorically linked to the demise of humankind [חציר], both of which find their roots in the earth.

The opening of strophe III in verse 7 is a matter of consensus for several scholars (DeClaissé-Walford 2014, loc. 632; Van der Lugt 2013:489; VanGemeren 1991:592). There is further reason to affirm this position. The strophe (Box 2) is structured around the repetition of three keywords.

Three terms, כלינו (vv. 7.9), אפך (vv. 7.11), and עברתך (vv. 9.11) are repeated in the same sequence in strophe III, creating a structure which holds the strophe together. The terms אפך and עברתך are both expressions of God’s wrath leading to human demise (כלינו). Significantly, the reason for this human demise shifts from the natural human condition of temporality, expressed in strophe II, to focus on the limits of human achievement in strophe III. Three categories of human action, identified in the strophe, summarise the totality of human achievement (see Box 3).

Not only are human beings physically limited, but human actions and achievements (גבורת, v. 10) are also temporally and morally limited. Negoitā (1978:321) explains the term הגה as referring to whisperings or muttering (Is 8:19), that is, hardly audible speech. The term is used in verse 9 to express the emptiness (כלה) of human endeavour. The term עמל [toil] in verse 10 degrades human achievement to the level of misery and complicates it further by questioning its moral quality (און, v. 10). Moreover, humankind’s intellectual abilities are challenged with the rhetorical question מי־יודע [who knows?], which expects an answer in the negative (v. 11). The request in verse 12 for wisdom [חכמה], is an admission of the lack of humankind’s intellectual depth, once again challenging human achievement.

The opening of strophe IV is quite clearly marked by the imperative שובה (v. 13). The use of this verb to open the strophe recalls the same verb at the opening of strophe II (v. 3), which reinforces this strophic opening. The confines of the strophe are marked by the inclusio עבדיך, in verses 13, 16. The internal structure of strophe IV mirrors the same three temporal categories found in strophe II. Here, though, the categories are arranged in increasing sequence as illustrated in Box 4.

Strophe IV resolves the earlier tension created in Strophe II, regarding the finitude of human nature. The same categories, morning [בקר], day [יום], and year [שנות] return in this strophe but with a different emphasis. As noted, the arrangement in an increasing sequence is the first indication of an unwinding of the negative image of temporality. Human existence must not only be seen as a countdown to mortality but also as an increase in the expression of human experience. Two imperatives, שבענו (v. 14) and שמחנו (v. 15), summarise the import of strophe IV. In the face of human temporality, the most important attitude to human existence is contentment [שבע]; this is what leads to the experience of joy [שמח]. Human fulfilment is thus not about the length of days, but about the option for love (חסד, v. 14) and the rejection of evil (רעה, v. 15).

Adinkra is a textual system of the Akan culture of the people of Ghana and la Côte d’Ivoire. Its origins, although contested, are traced either to the Gyaman kingdom in present-day la Côte d’Ivoire, to the Denkyira Kingdom in Ghana, or to Mohammedan influences (Adom 2016:1153; Owusu 2019:47). Wilson (2021:203) describes them as ideographic symbols ‘embedded in the social, religious, economic, and political philosophical concepts and ideologies of the Asante’, used to communicate pieces of advice, warnings, and taboos, as the case might be. The texts ascribed to divine origins also play an important role in the ancestral cult, serving as a vehicle for invoking favour and conveying the deep religious character of the Akan (Adom, Asante & Kquofi 2016:45). Quite well known among the repertoire are the Gye Nyame [the omnipotence of God]; Nyame dua [God’s Tree (an altar to the sky god)]; Nyame biribi wo soro [there is a god above]; and Nyame nnwu na mawu [I won’t die because God does not die].

The text, Owuo atwedeɛ, as shown in Figure 1, is an abbreviation of the proverb, Owuo atwedeɛ, baako mforo, literally meaning: one person does not climb death’s ladder. Nsiah (2024:5) explains that the proverb expresses the inevitability of death. It is the necessary and ultimate end of humankind on earth. Amissah and Letcher-Teye (2018:81) further observe that the text is a reminder that people need to live modestly because death is no respecter of persons.

The term, owuo [death], is used in several other proverbs to express the idea of universality. The proverb, Owuo begya hwan? [Whom will death spare?], underlines the indiscriminate nature of death. The rhetorical question which should be answered in the negative, is a reminder that no one, whether young or old, is exempt from the reality of death. Similarly, Owuo adare nna faako [death’s sickle does not reap in one place], re-emphasises the unavoidability of death. The terrible nature of death is captured in the proverb, Owuo see fie [death ruins the home], an expression of the devastating effect it can have on family life. Ultimately, sleep as a metaphor for death is also found in Akan proverbs. The proverb, Sɛ wo nnim owuo a, hwɛ nda [if you are ignorant about death, observe sleep], suggests that sleep gives a peek into the mystery of death. Death is not such a great mystery after all.

A final word should be given to the concept of climbing (foro) in the text Owuo atwedeɛ. Several Akan proverbs engage the concept of climbing. The proverb, wontumi nforo nkɔanim ntwenedeɛ na wo nsa hyɛ wo kotoku mu [you cannot climb the ladder of success with your hands in your pocket], uses the concept of climbing as a metaphor for personal progress. Similarly, the proverb, woforo dua pa a na yepia wo [the one who climbs a good tree deserves a push], advocates encouraging a person who tries to succeed. Foro [climbing] is thus often used in proverbs as a metaphor for progress or success. Its use in the proverb for death is at least interesting. Death is presented not as a pit into which one descends, but as a ladder which one climbs. While, on the one hand, the Akan expresses the inevitability of death, the use of the metaphor of the ladder is euphemistic. Death is terrible, but the language used to describe it, can soften its blow.

While the occurrence of death, particularly in tragic circumstances, can be heart-wrenching, a parallel reading of Psalm 90 and African indigenous sacred texts, particularly Owuo atwedeɛ, provides important resources for speaking about death in Ghana today. At least two lessons can be learned from both texts. Firstly, death is universal and the reality of human transience. Psalm 90 complements this position by placing the responsibility of human mortality on God, who commands man back to the dust. Neither text denies the reality of death, nor downplays its destructive character.

Secondly, both texts find ways of navigating the concept of death, using euphemisms to soften its blow. Both Psalm 90 and Akan proverbs use the concept of sleep as a metaphor for death as a means of demystifying the phenomenon. Psalm 90 emphasises joy and contentment in this life, rather than dwelling on the inevitability of death. The Adinkrah text rather uses the idea of climbing a ladder as a euphemism for human transition from this earthly existence. These images provide useful ways of engaging persons faced with the reality of death in contemporary Ghanaian contexts.

Finally, there is the question of longevity, which is important in both Psalm 90 and in the Akan indigenous worldview. Psalm 90 understands the ideal lifespan of the human being to be 70 or 80 years for the strong. That said, the Psalm prioritises the importance of joy and contentment over longevity. In the Akan indigenous worldview, on the contrary, longevity is non-negotiable. In this regard, scholars point out the Akan concept of a good death and a bad death. Adinkrah (2022:697) describes good deaths as ‘those that occur in older age, such as when the deceased is 70 years or older’. Bad deaths on the contrary, could refer to the death of a child, or during childbirth, death from a stigmatised ailment or a curse, deaths caused by homicide, suicide or accidents, death of a childless adult or of a criminal, or untimely deaths (Adinkrah 2022:698–700; Brookman-Amissah 1986:78). The following creates a real dilemma, especially for pastoral ministry, especially when Akan Christians seek explanations for sudden or unexplained deaths. That said, Psalm 90 does become an important resource for engaging and accompanying the bereaved, especially in situations of untimely death. While fullness of years is desirable, the Psalm shifts the focus to a life well lived, an interpretation that could help make meaning out of situations of tragic death.