A Story of Destiny, Courage, and a Woman who Refused to be Dismissed
A Very Divine Welcome, Dear Reader
I have a confession to make.
There is a book I have checked out from my local library more times than I can count.
Again and again, I would walk through those doors, find it on the shelf, and bring it home with me like an old friend coming for a visit.
I’d read passages I’d underlined in my memory.
I’d sit with Peggy’s story one more time.
And eventually, I’d return it—only to check it out again months later.
That book is King Peggy, the memoir of Peggielene Bartels, a woman who received a phone call that would change her life forever and, in turn, change the lives of 7,000 people she had never met.
This book holds a special place on my Divine Book Awards “Author Spotlight” page.
Today, I want to share with you why Peggy’s story has captured my heart and kept me coming back, year after year.
Who Is King Peggy?
Let me introduce you to Peggielene Bartels—though if you read the book, you’ll come to know her simply as Peggy. Her official title is Nana Amuah-Afenyi VI, or “Nana.”
She was born in Ghana in 1953. In her early twenties, she moved to Washington, D.C., to work at Ghana’s embassy.
She became an American citizen in 1997. She is a devout Christian.
She lives in Silver Spring, Maryland. She still works at the embassy.
And several weeks each year, she travels to a small village on the west coast of Africa, called Otuam.
Because Peggy is also a king.
In 2008, Peggy received a phone call that would upend everything.
The elders of Otuam, a fishing village of 7,000 souls, had chosen her to be their king.
The ancestors, they said, had selected her. She was needed.
Peggy, a middle-aged woman living thousands of miles away, was now responsible for an entire community.
As she herself says:
“An important part of my mission as King of Otuam is to bring empowerment to women. I truly believe that the future of Africa lies in the hands of its women.”
The Dream That Foretold Her Destiny
The prologue of King Peggy contains one of the most beautiful passages I have ever read.
I want to share a portion of it with you. It captures something essential about Peggy’s journey—and about the mysterious ways our futures sometimes call to us long before we’re ready to answer.
“In the dream Peggy was back in Kumasi, a child again, walking home from school in her sky blue uniform with the round white collar.
Usually the path was dusty in the dry season, pocked with puddles in the rainy season, but now it was smooth as marble; her black sandals glided over it and her feet remained clean.
The sky was a bright turquoise vault above her head, so beautiful it broke the heart, and the warm golden sun on her shoulders felt like a loving embrace.
Just as she had every school day when she lived in Kumasi, in the dream she walked behind the king’s palace, a rambling brick structure painted blue and white and built around a large courtyard where royal festivities were held.
The Ashanti king of Kumasi, known as the Asantehene, was a very important leader with millions of subjects, and he was rich beyond measure because he owned some of the biggest gold mines in the world.
All day at his palace, important visitors were coming and going—tribal priests, elders, government ministers, ambassadors, chairmen of important companies, and humble people asking him for justice.
She stood outside the rear of the palace and looked at it, wondering what was going on in there.
But there was nothing for her, a skinny little girl, in a king’s palace. And so she glided down the marble path to her home.
Because Peggy had the dream so many times she knew it must be a message from the spirit world.
Like many Africans, Peggy understood that dreams meant something. They were not just random thoughts, fears, or hopes, or something from dinner irritating your intestines.
Sometimes a dream was a message from God or Jesus, or from your ancestors, or even from the better part of yourself talking to the stupid part of yourself.
Dreams were like encoded letters from the spirit world that must be carefully decoded and interpreted.
They guided you in your choices, warned you of deception and accidents, or showed you the future.
“What does the dream mean, Mother?” Peggy asked when she called her mother in Ghana.
Mother thought about it a long while. “It’s been thirty years since you walked behind that palace to go to school in Kumasi,” Mother said. “Perhaps it’s just a memory.”
“But why would I have it so often, thirty years later?” Peggy insisted. “Here I am living in the United States all this time; there’s nothing to remind me of the king’s palace in Kumasi. The dream has to mean something.”
A moment of silence dangled in the transatlantic air. Peggy could picture Mother’s long smooth face and shining dark eyes as she considered the question.
Finally, she said, “Pray for God and the ancestors to show you what the dream means, Peggy. Perhaps, in time, they will.”
Mother was right. God and the ancestors would show Peggy the meaning of the dream in their own time, but it would be long after Mother had joined them.”
(Source: King Peggy Copyright © 2012)
Every time I read those words, something shifts in my chest.
That little girl, walking past a palace she couldn’t enter, wondering what went on inside—she had no idea that one day she would be the one inside.
She had no idea that the dream was not just a memory, but a prophecy.
A King Chosen—But Not Trusted
When Peggy received the call that she had been chosen as king, she was stunned. Honored. Overwhelmed.
But as she settled into her role, she began to suspect that the elders’ motives were not entirely pure.
Yes, they claimed the ancestors had chosen her. But Peggy wondered if there was another reason she had been selected: she was a woman, and she lived in America.
The elders likely assumed she would visit Otuam only occasionally, leaving them free to continue business as usual. And “business as usual” meant corruption.
For years, the men—particularly the elders—had been collecting fees from fishermen and others, pocketing the money instead of using it for the town.
The things the community needed to sustain itself—roads, schools, wells—went neglected while the elders enriched themselves.
They thought they had found the perfect king: a woman who would be absent most of the year, too far away to notice what they were doing.
They thought wrong.
The Woman Who Wouldn’t Back Down
After her crowning ceremony, or enstoolment, Peggy made something clear: she was not a woman to be pushed around.
She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t threaten. She simply took action.
She appointed a trusted male relative to collect all fees while she was away in America.
The money would be deposited directly into a bank account, waiting for her return.
No more cash passing through the elders’ hands. No more opportunities for theft.
The elders were furious. They made their displeasure known—to Peggy, to her relative, to anyone who would listen.
They had underestimated her. They had assumed a woman would be easy to manage. They had assumed an American would be too disconnected to care.
But Peggy cared deeply. And she was not going anywhere.
The Fruits of Persistence
Slowly, the money began to accumulate. The bank account grew. And for the first time in years, the town started benefiting from its own resources.
Roads improved. Projects moved forward. The community began to see tangible change.
In Ghana’s communal culture, where people thrive together or not at all, these improvements were visible to everyone.
The fishermen saw their fees actually working for them. The women saw their families benefiting. The children saw new possibilities.
Over time, something remarkable happened: the elders’ anger softened into respect.
The people of Otuam grew to love their king—not despite her strength, but because of it.
They saw that she fought for them.
They saw that she couldn’t be bought or bullied.
They saw that she was exactly who the ancestors had chosen.
A Hero for Women
But it was the women of Otuam who loved Peggy most fiercely.
They watched their king stand before men who had dismissed her, who had tried to undermine her, who had assumed she would be easy to control.
They watched her refuse to shrink. They watched her speak her truth. They watched her win.
For years, these women had quietly endured disrespect.
They had been expected to stay silent, to accept their place, to never question the men who ran their community.
And then came Peggy—a woman who showed them something different.
She showed them that they had a voice.
She showed them that women could lead.
She showed them that the future of Africa truly does lie in the hands of its women.
I think of Peggy’s own words whenever I reflect on this:
“An important part of my mission as King of Otuam is to bring empowerment to women. I truly believe that the future of Africa lies in the hands of its women.”
She didn’t just say those words. She lived them.
Why This Book Matters
I want to be honest with you: my little write-up on the Divine Book Awards website does not do this book justice.
How could it? How do you capture a story like Peggy’s in a few paragraphs?
How do you convey the weight of a dream that foretells your destiny, the courage it takes to stand alone, the joy of watching a community transformed?
You don’t. You just point people toward the book and say, “Read this. Let Peggy tell you herself.”
That’s why I kept checking it out from the library, again and again. Not because I forgot the story, but because I needed to sit with it.
I needed to be reminded of what courage looks like. I needed to watch Peggy stand firm, and remember that I could too.
Peggy’s story is encouraging for anyone who has ever felt underestimated.
Anyone who has ever been told they don’t belong.
Anyone who has ever walked past a palace and wondered what goes on inside, never imagining that one day they would be the one sitting at the table.
Who Should Read This Book
If any of this resonates with you, I believe King Peggy belongs in your hands. Read it if:
- You love true stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary things
- You need encouragement to stand your ground
- You believe in the power of women to transform communities
- You enjoy immersive cultural storytelling that transports you to another world
- You need a reminder that sometimes the ancestors—and God—have plans we never could have imagined
Peggy herself never had biological children. But today, she calls Otuam’s 7,000 residents her children.
A whole village. A whole community. A whole legacy built on courage, faith, and the refusal to back down.
A Final Word on Peggy’s Legacy
That little girl walking past the king’s palace in Kumasi, wondering what went on inside—she grew up to become a king herself.
Not because she sought it. Not because she expected it. But because the ancestors had other plans.
Mother was right. In time, God and the ancestors showed Peggy what the dream meant.
And thank goodness they did.
Question: Have you read King Peggy? I’d truly love to hear your thoughts. Drop me a note or share in the comments.
And if you haven’t read it yet—what are you waiting for? Peggy is waiting to meet you.
With admiration for Peggy and all she represents,
Destiny Divine
Leave a Reply