Features
The creation of an African ‘bloodstream’: Malaria control during the Hitler War, 1942–1945 (Part 6)
KORLE AFTER THE SECOND WORLD WAR
But the major reason that the antimalarial campaign of the Second World War was forgettable is because it was never completed. By 1945, just as Lt. Ribbands and Major Macdonald declared victory over the mosquito, the Allies had opened up the Mediterranean, and transshipment across the Sahara was no longer necessary. The number of troops stationed in Accra dwindled, and the Americans hastily terminated their involvement in the antimalaria campaign. From 1942–45, the Gold Coast government had been responsible for funding only eight per cent of the work done by the Malaria Control Group, while the rest had been covered through the Lend Lease programme (65 per cent) and by the British armed forces (25 per cent). In 1945, the Allied forces left the Gold Coast Public Works Department with the entire cost of maintaining the massive drainage works built on the Korle watershed as well as the responsibility of spraying DDT around the city. A year later, it was evident that the Gold Coast government would never muster enough funding to keep a perpetual campaign against malaria going—the Public Works Department did not even have a budget to screen the windows of bungalows in the city, let alone reinforce miles of concrete embankments along the Odaw River. Major Macdonald’s attempt to squeeze infrastructure funding out of the Americans had worked temporarily, but the war was simply too short to complete the project.
In 1946, crew working for the Gold Coast Public Works Department were further disheartened when aerial photos revealed dozens of quarries, salt pans, and borrow pits around Accra, too numerous to monitor and too expansive to spray regularly. The effects of human habitation had created a niche for mosquitoes to flourish, and any dream of eradication was untenable. The British returned to a policy of malaria management—by relying on quinine prophylaxis and the occasional spraying of waterways to prevent mosquito infestations. In the short term, the effects of DDT made the city notably healthier, and use of the chemical became commonplace. For the price of only four pence a tin, DDT even found its way into homes, where people used it to control lice and bedbugs. Kingsway, the largest department store in Accra, dispensed the drug at their chemist department and advertised it as a product created for the “eternal benefit of mankind.” Unfortunately, the mosquitos in the area quickly developed a resistance to the chemical, as they did in many other parts of the world. By the 1950s, the Korle Lagoon and its tributaries became mired in silt, and malaria was once again endemic in Accra.
When the soldiers were demobilised and the spraying crew departed, the identity of the lagoon as a goddess among the Ga was easily revitalised. In 1946, after several years of bitter disputes over the stool, Nummo Ayiteh Cobblah II was installed as the priest of Korle. Cobblah became a prominent religious leader in Accra, as a moderate during anticolonial riots in 1948 and as a friend to Ghana’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah. When Cobblah was enstooled, he resuscitated the rituals of the annual harvest festival of Homowo, establishing his rights to communicate with the spiritual forces that inhabit the lagoon. As she had for centuries, Naa Korle asserted herself as a moral force within Ga culture, a goddess with the ability to define states of collective well-being in the city.
INTERLUDE: HEALING THE SICKNESS OF COLONIALISM
In the early 1950s, when the colony of the Gold Coast was on the verge of independence, a unique type of healing culture developed among a group of Zarma-speaking migrants from western Niger, known in Accra as the Zabarima. At the time, the Zabarima were the fastest-growing segment of the Muslim population in Accra, reaching 4,000 by 1954. Working in the most menial of jobs, such as carrying loads around the market, recycling used flour bags, or scavenging for used tins and bottles, the Zabarima survived on the margins, and their religious and healing practices reflected their social station. The Zabarima had immigrated from a part of Africa that had been Islamised for hundreds of years, but many of them were also worshippers of a pantheon of deities known as the Hauka (a Hausa word meaning “crazy”). Jean Rouch, a French filmmaker who followed the activities of migrants around West Africa, claimed that at the peak of the Hauka movement, there were approximately 100 Hauka gods in West Africa and that approximately 30 per cent of Zabarima migrants to the Gold Coast were possessed. Unlike Ga priests and spirit mediums, who worshipped and practised in public, the followers of the Hauka operated in secret. Indeed, their ceremonies would have remained largely unknown if not captured on film by Rouch, who was invited to one of their gatherings in a village suburb of Accra.
Jean Rouch’s footage of a Hauka spirit possession ceremony is striking. It includes several men and one woman gathered around a Hauka shrine in a courtyard decorated with fluttering Union Jacks. Rouch, the narrator, tells the viewer that those gathered are suffering from illnesses caused by sorcery and witchcraft and that they have come to seek the help of the Hauka deities. On the cue of a single note from a violin, the participants are slowly filled with spirits representing different colonial characters, perambulating chaotically before the camera, making grotesque faces, and foaming at the mouth. The most powerful god was Gomno, the “governor,” a deity represented by a colourful mound with a pith helmet—an image that Rouch paralleled by interposing a scene of the Gold Coast governor Arden-Clarke wearing full regalia at an official ceremony in Accra. Other prominent characters represented the network of colonial officials, including the train engineer (who marches relentlessly back and forth), the sergeant at arms (who berates the participants), and a doctor’s wife (who mediates disputes). The film climaxes with a series of heated arguments among the spirits, and a frenzied meal of dog-meat soup. After they eat, the spirits slowly leave the bodies of the possessed, and the exhausted migrant workers load themselves onto a truck, bound for their regular lives in Accra.
When Rouch screened the film in Paris in 1954, it created a scandal. Some critics thought the film, entitled Les Maitres Fous (The mad masters), was a fake made with paid actors. Others thought it was a racist portrayal of colonial subjects as ethnographic specimens. Anthropologist Marcel Griaule called the film a “travesty” because it stereotyped Africans as savages; he urged Rouch to destroy it. More recently, Les Maitres Fous has been celebrated because it depicts a form of mimicry that expresses the colonial mentalities of African subjects. As Rouch had always argued, the Hauka cult made a bold statement about the psychological effects of colonialism, representing a kind of social healing that allowed immigrants to cope with their subordinate status under White colonial rule. The “mad masters,” he maintained, were not Africans but the colonial ruling classes, who, within the context of the cult, represented the authoritarian structure of colonialism. The antithesis of benevolent colonialism, these spirits revealed a menacing crowd of military and technocratic elites fumbling about, fighting, arguing, and screaming. Even the character of the doctor’s wife, who plays the role of the mediator among the gods, becomes complicit in Hauka imaginings of colonialism, adding strength to the argument that the colonial subjects of the Gold Coast always regarded medical workers as agents of colonial power.
[This piece is culled from a book authored by Jonathan Roberts, titled: Sharing the burden of sickness: A history of healing and medicine in Accra]
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
