Features
Growing up… (Part 2)
As happens in many societies, some of my classmates from Anyako fell on hard times. The day after I arrived for my uncle’s funeral, I met one of them. She had only a loin cloth covering her lower parts. She carried an aluminium bowl in her armpit, her elbow in the bowl with her hand holding it at the rim. We recognised each other instantly, calling out our names. Her upper torso looked rather masculine which made my heart sink.
She was far older than me in school and is now a fishmonger of sort. I thought of how someone in their mid-seventies can be rehabilitated. After parting with a grateful smile for a few cedis in her palm, I knew she was not alone; a part of me was in that situation. I knew my mates would feel the same way too.
Many of my mates became accountants, bankers, professors, educationists and more. Those we have lost track of might be in many other fields, I reckon.
Our teachers were a major part of our growing up. They were revered by the townsfolk. If you met a teacher in town you removed your footwear before greeting them. Fortunately, I didn’t have to do that because I put on my first flip-flop after I turned 14. We went everywhere barefoot, though Anyako was full of oyster shells in the ground. We had cuts of all shapes but the salt in the soil might have served as antibiotics to prevent tetanus.
Some teachers were quite friendly while others took discipline to dizzying heights. They had the cane in hand at the ready for any act of indiscipline on our part. Under all these we enjoyed growing up. We were hardly ever hungry, thanks to aunties and elder cousins who had something at the ready always.
Some of us became choristers in Church. We loved the singing because it gave us joy, pride and leverage. Someone donated brass musical instruments to our school, so I graduated from the flute to these instruments as a bandboy. I tried the trumpet, cornet, the horn and the tuba, but settled on the tuba because of its bass sound. There was one saxophone in the mix but methinks our music teacher did not know how to handle it so it lay unused till I left for secondary school.
When I was to be confirmed in the Church in 1966 and tried my new shoes on for the first time, I did not know how to walk in them. Was I to step forward with the heels or toes? This alone took more practise to get the feel than anything I have tried.
Until Ghana changed its currency from Pounds to Cedis, I never saw a pound note. I only knew the look in textbooks. I saw a 10-shilling note once when I accompanied a cousin to the market one day. My grandmother, like others, went to the market with coins and came back home with basketfuls of goodies to last till the next market day four days later.
But something happened, which has lived in my mind till date. It was in 1963 when a woman who prepared and sold yakayake, a local food derived from cassava granules, beat gong-gong in the town for three consecutive days that someone had stolen her one pound and called on the thief to humbly return her money. Apparently, she bought the cassava dough on credit and paid back after selling her yakayake. One pound was an awful lot of money and so it was unfathomable to owe one’s suppliers that amount.
Though a suspect was spotted in the woman’s place at the time of the theft, he vehemently denied taking the money. This poor woman threatened to invoke the god of thunder to seek justice if by a certain deadline she did not get her money back. Incidentally, this was in August when it was raining heavily, which eventually caused flooding of the Lagoon.
During one heavy rainstorm, I heard the loudest three claps of thunder, each 90 seconds from the other. I heard my grandmother say, “This thunder is unusual; it surely might have caused havoc somewhere.” Apparently, the suspect in the one pound theft case had gone fishing with some colleagues. At the first lightning, he had a schock and asked his colleagues to hold him, which they did.
The second yanked him from the grips of his friends in the canoe and dropped him over 50 metres away into the water. The third split his chest open, killing him instantly. Some rituals were performed before his body was put on a wooden plank and dragged away for burial.
This was the talk of the town for many months. If you were at Anyako at this time and would want to have sticky fingers, that was entirely up to you. Another happened at Konu, the eastern tip of Amyako, when lightning struck a woman. This had nothing to do with theft; she was carrying an aluminium bowl during a thunderstorm. Aluminium, I am told, is a good conductor of electricity.
My personal fear of lightning lingered on until 1986 when I was forced by circumstance to confront that fear. I was driving from Accra to Anyako after work. Then somewhere between Tsokpoli and Dawa the rain clouds opened up and the accompanying lightning was incessant. A niece was in the passenger seat and I did not have to show fear. Could it be adrenaline that gave me a bravado I never knew existed? Or just facing my fear head-on? Maybe both. To stop the car would have been suicidal, given the fact that the area could flood and drag the car away.
With the windshield wipers at full blast and hazard lights on, we braved the weather and got home to Anyako safely.
Konu lies to the east of Anyako township. Growing up in Anyako for the six-year period did not see me in that part more than half a dozen times, though my grand uncle, Tormadogo Segbefia, married Konu women and moved to settle there. The residents of Konu had a peculiar twang to the way they spoke the language so we could determine who they were once they spoke. I don’t know if it was deliberate because I don’t hear that any longer. Today, my Holy village is referred to as Anyako-Konu.
My people were mainly fishers, kente weavers and boatmen. I had a few neighbours who taught me the art of weaving but I could not match the dexterity with which they wove the kente patterns. The boatmen ferried passengers across the eight miles to Keta, which was a trading post until tidal waves caused its decline. It is now quicker driving the circuitous routes to Keta than trying by boat or canoe.
Weaving is virtually absent and the lagoon does not yield as much fish as it used to even up till about 20 years ago. To revive the fishing business and get it back to its glory means the Keta Lagoon has to be dredged and measures put in place to forestall silting. The depth of the water could enhance fishing all-year round. The last time I checked, it would cost $98 million to do. It’s quite expensive but when it is done, economic activities will boom in the area for a long time to come. All it takes is the political will and the will of the chiefs of the area to support it.
I might have been born in Koforidua, lived mostly there and in Accra, but as an Anyako boy, my village is of a sentimental value to me. There is no place like home.
Writer’s email address: akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
Today, I focus on the Apostolic Church International in Finland, as I continue with my description of institutions and personalities and their accomplishments as members of the Ghanaian Diaspora in Finland.
The Apostolic Church International, Finland (or, Apostolic International Association Ry) was established in October 9, 2023. The Church in Finland has seen significant strides and accomplishments within the short time that it has been established in Finland, which must be highlighted.
History of the Church in Ghana
The Apostolic Church Ghana originated from the 1904–1905 Welsh revival, officially established in Ghana (then called Gold Coast) in 1935 following connections between a local prayer group in Asamankese (a town in southern Ghana), led by Peter Newman Anim, and the Apostolic Church, UK. There were historical splits in 1939 and 1953, but the Apostolic Church attained autonomy in 1985.
Today, the Church is headquartered in Accra. Last year (2025), it dedicated its new 10-storey headquarters, “The Apostolic Church Tower,” in Frafraha, Adenta West in Accra.
Activities of the Apostolic Church in Finland
The Apostolic Church in Finland conducts church service on Sundays. The service starts at 11a.m. in the morning and closes by 1 p.m. in the afternoon. There are no other activities during other days for now.
The Minister in charge of the church in Finland is also the Area Head of Italy Area. He is Pastor Daniel Kofi Addison who is the new Italy Area Head, and has just been transferred from UK South Area to Italy Area during the just-ended Council Meeting in March this year. Italy Area comprises Italy, which has 13 Assemblies, Germany, one Assembly, and Finland, one Assembly.
Elder Ebenezer Amoaning-Coffie is the Presiding Elder in charge of the Assembly in Finland. A Presiding Elder is responsible for day to day activities of the church (Assembly) and reports to the District Pastor, or in the absence of the District Pastor, reports to the Area Head.
Achievements
The Apostolic Church International, Finland was officially registered under the Finnish Law, guaranteeing freedom of worship and providing legal foundation for future growth. The church service is conducted in both English and Twi.
The church opens its doors to all people of every nation, especially Ghanaians who are in Finland and other African nationals. Now, the membership comprises Ghanaians, Nigerians and Sierra Leoneans.
The Church and the Ghanaian migrant community in Finland
The Apostolic Church in Finland plays a prominent role as a religious group that serves Ghanaian migrants and others in the Finnish society.
Thus, the Apostolic Church is a religious body for Ghanaian migrants in Finland and other nationalities who want to worship with them for diversity and better intercultural and multicultural understanding.
Elder Amoaning-Coffie said that the main and primary aim of the church is to bring people closer to God. “We aim to win souls for Christ. We aim to preach the gospel to the world. By propagating the gospel to the people, we are hopeful that they will turn away from any ungodly ways and be good individuals in the community and in society in general”, he stated.
He said that everything is going well so far. A key challenge, however, is how to get more members especially the youth. As a new Assembly, we are in need of instrumentalists, for example. We pray to God Almighty to help us do His work, the Elder disclosed.
Integration
By its activities, the Apostolic Church is helping to ensure integration of its members well into the Finish society. This is important since social interaction and citizens’ well-being are an important part of the integration process in Finland.
As I mentioned some time ago, the role of migrant associations and groups such as the Apostolic Church acting as bridge-builders for the integration and inclusion of migrants through participation in the decision making process and by acting as a representative voice is highly appreciated in Finland. Thank you!
With Dr Perpetual Crentsil
The landscape of the Ghanaian palate is shifting, and not necessarily for the better. In our bustling urban centres, from the streets of Accra to the suburbs of Kumasi, a quiet culinary revolution is taking place; one where the mortar and pestle are being replaced by the pizza oven and the deep fryer. This transition from traditional staple foods like fufu, banku, akple, kenkey, tuo zaafi, and ampesi toward “continental” dishes is more than just a change in appetite; it is a reflection of a deeper social struggle with identity and prestige.
The illusion of modernity
For many, “stepping out” for a meal has become synonymous with consuming foreign cuisine. There is an unspoken social hierarchy where a bowl of Abunuabunu is relegated to the village category, while burgers, pizzas are branded as prestigious choices. We have reached a stage where we equate foreign with modern and local with primitive.
This perception is a dangerous illusion. Our traditional dishes are marvels of culinary engineering complex, nutrient-dense, and deeply rooted in our history. When we choose a processed foreign import over a meal made from local tubers or fermented maize, we are not just changing our lunch; we are eroding the indigenous knowledge attached to our local ingredients and foods.
We need to turn the consumption of indigenous grains and tubers like millet, sorghum, and plantain into a statement of self-worth and national pride.
The cultural and health erosion
Every time a local dish disappears from a restaurant menu to make room for foreign fast food, we lose a piece of our cultural fabric. Traditional Ghanaian cooking is an art that requires patience and skill. By choosing the convenience of foreign fast food, we are raising a generation that may know the taste of a pepperoni pizza but cannot identify the rich, earthy profile of Prekese or the subtle tang of well-fermented dough dishes like corn porridge, banku, etew, abolo, agidi or kamfa, and kenkey.
Furthermore, we are at the crossroads of a nutrition transition. Replacing high-fiber, indigenous crops with calorie-dense but nutrient-poor foreign fast foods is driving a rise in lifestyle diseases such as obesity, hypertension, diabetes, stroke, cancer, and liver disease. We are trading our longevity for 15-minutes convenience or unhealthy diet.
A call for culinary patriotism
It is time for us to appreciate, preserve, and promote our indigenous foods and culinary traditions. We need to be proud of our local dishes, ingredients and cooking methods, rather than relying heavily on foreign or imported foods. We must stop viewing our local delicacies as low-class and start treating our culinary heritage as the high-end gastronomy it truly is.
True sophistication does not come from imitating Western fast food; it comes from innovation and adding values to our own resources. We see glimpses of this potential in the rise of branded Sobolo and the creative use of gluten-free plantain flour in modern baking of flour-based dishes such as bread, cakes, biscuits and others. This is the path forward. We must elevate our local dishes, making them as accessible, affordable, presentable and trendy as any foreign alternative.
To the hospitality industry: Innovate or stagnate
Our hotels and high-end restaurants must lead the charge. They must stop relegating local dishes to the “traditional corner” of the buffet, and apply the same culinary finesse given to imported dishes to our Fante Fante, apapransa, aborbi tadi, fetritoto, akple, abolo, yakayeke, fufu, ampesi, kokonte, wasawasa, tubani, apapransa, mpotompoto, kelewele, aliha, brukutu, pito, and other local dishes. The industry must enhance customer experiences making eating local dishes the ultimate luxury experience for both tourists and residents alike. We must elevate the presentation of our foods by using modern plating techniques to show that a bowl of light soup can be as visually stunning as a French consommé. We need to reclaim our Ghanaian plate before it is too late.
To the policy makers: Let us encourage buying of local ingredients to promote the local food industry and economy. There should be educational programmes and talks about the nutritional and cultural benefits of local foods so that people understand their value.
We need to encourage serving traditional dishes at school programmes, parties, and celebrations instead of only fast foods,
To the Youth: Let us value and appreciate our traditional dishes instead of always choosing foreign foods. There must be balance in our choice of local and foreign dishes. Confidence in our culture encourages others to respect it too. Our local dishes can also be promoted by sharing pictures, recipes, and videos on platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and WhatsApp to make them attractive and trendy.
Young citizens must learn from their parents and elders how to prepare local meals to keep the knowledge and cultural relevance alive. Local dishes can be modernised to appeal to younger generations and tourists.
Conclusion
We cannot afford to trade our heritage for foreign cuisines which are gaining grounds across the country at an alarming rate. We must disabuse our minds of the perception that anything foreign or imported is better than those locally made. Our health, economy, and identity are tied to the soil. It is time to stop apologising for our local flavours and start celebrating them. It is possible to embrace modernity without losing ourselves and our cultural identity. Let us make the Ghanaian kitchen the heart of our modern identity once again.
By: Marilyn Gadogbe
