Monday, 19 March 2012

Witchcraft: A Lesson By Emmaline Repp


What does it mean for a society to believe in witchcraft in the 21st Century; and not just some superstitious tic, but a deep-seeded belief that (for those who commit and bear witness) justifies, completely, countless assaults and murders?

The reality of living in Ghana, a country with at least 6 witch camps in the Northern regions and uncontrolled brutality against accused victims, is still something I find shocking. Though kept relatively quiet, it is a truth I’ve struggled to come to terms with for the better part of two years.

Many people, people I know and respect; well-educated people who know more about international politics that I do; Ghanaians I consider close friends tell me stories of witchcraft – stories they whole-heartedly believe. At night, there are witches in the trees; witches steal human souls and hide them in animal sacrifices; witches kill and eat people, make their children witches through food.

Joke as they may, laughing at my incredulous looks, it isn’t really a joke – their unforgiving, often strong reactions to my inquiries tell me that this is a real threat for them; death by beating, poisoning, (in one case in Accra, burning) and banishment are all seen as necessary. It’s all so perpendicular to what I’ve come to know about Ghana, it doesn’t seem real even now. The ease of accusation, the lack of representation, the test and trial, the punishment – it all seems to happen so fast.

So I started asking questions, seeking to probe the belly of the beast, to begin to understand such a dark undercurrent in a culture I consider myself very much a part of. I wanted to talk about the complexities of such beliefs within a society that touts a culture of ju-ju men (their billboards litter the highways). We all see at least one witch movie on the long, TV-equipped trips, but do people really believe in it? I wanted to know more. What I found created only more questions (and a sense of urgency that something needs to change).

“If witches and magic are bad, why is a ju-ju man different? He’s using magic to find magic, isn’t he? Isn’t he a witch, too?” No, they told me, that’s different; plus, a ju-ju man never lies. “Never?” Never. Well, that would certainly explain why some women are devastated to find out they’re witches – they strongly believe in the myths, too, in the power of the ju-ju. 

It all sounded so complicated, so contradictory – Witches can’t see each other, but a community of witches exist that must make blood sacrifices to their Witch King; witches can only affect and curse their own households, but a stranger can level the accusation against a witch; different levels of witchcraft exist, but one can’t tell the difference unless by special circumstance. All of it involves ju-ju.

“What if it’s just jealousy or hatred? People are mean-spirited sometimes.” Oh, they agreed, if it was a natural hatred, the village would know the difference – the ju-ju magic would see. Yes, but it all depends on one man, one ritual, I wanted say; sometimes small incidences like a birth defect, or being unable to balance water on one’s head is considered proof enough. “What if he’s wrong? What if it’s a lie or a misunderstanding? This happened in America a long time ago; people lied.”  He isn’t wrong; there’s no lie. They exist.

In a world where witchcraft exists, there can be no room for failure or mistaken identity; doubt throws the entire belief into the question. It is a dangerous world to live in. In extracting the confession of a witch, it doesn’t matter the circumstances of the answer – the threats or steps taken to get there – it only matters the confession itself. Sometimes there are trials, but sometimes the confession is proof enough; as my Ghanaian friends told me, there will always be a confession if there is a witch. No confession: no witch, no problem.

Of course, that’s not always the case. In some children born with physical defects, the proof is obvious – no trial or ju-ju necessary. If not banished, these children are certainly punished and often abused. I met one such girl at the Gbeogo School for the Deaf. Born with her tongue attached to the roof of her mouth her father, suspecting her of being a witch, cut most of it out with a machete. In fact, her face is littered with machete scars, cigarette burns mark her body and, until her parents died, the school feared for her life every time she returned home.

How many other cases like hers occur? Not to mention accidents and unexplained medical afflictions. It stands to reason that a woman accidentally serving spoiled food is open to accusations; or if a child visiting his aunt gets some unknown infection, she is likely without protection – vulnerable to a pointed finger and banishment from home. It can happen without warning and if the ju-ju proves her guilt, she could lose her life. It’s the lucky ones who find themselves in witch camps.

Not only women and children are accused, sometimes men are too, but it seems more likely for a man to be proceeding over the ju-ju than at its mercy. Women, having more contact with children and the duty to prepare food can more easily pass it along. Because of this separation, because a father doesn’t deal in cooking (and witchcraft is often passed through food), it is women and children that are most vulnerable.
It is the aim of Ghana to abolish witch camps, but in communities so strongly rooted in tradition and so far removed from the influence of Ghana’s modern government, one suspects the answer will not be so easy. 

With no government run rehabilitation centres, no safe houses or refugee camps, local witch camps – controlled by the same mystic beliefs and presided over by ju-ju chiefs – are the only options for safety. Removed from their towns, many believe in the neutralising ju-ju of such sacred places and fear leaving them because they truly believe they have bad magic. The ju-ju men have spoken; they have no other choices in the matter.

Though the mystical aspect of this both fascinates and infuriates me, it is the human part that makes it so hard to accept. The stigma against witches, the belief in them is so strong, that it cripples the most vulnerable, especially the children – many of them find no reprieve. In this they have no option but to forfeit their right to education, to a better life. The young and elderly, alike, experience such abuse, both immediately (physically) and as time progresses (mentally); it must be terrifying and heartbreaking for them. The amount of trauma they endure, the guilt and confusion associated with actually believing in their fate (or their denial of it), must leave them with such sadness. I am sure PTSD and depression exist in excess in camps such as Gambaga in the North. To be forced into exile, unable to defend oneself, and survive the way these men , women and children have is about as brave and strong an act as one I can think of, but they desperately need a voice.  And though discretion and graceful acceptance are necessary in the Peace Corps, these victims need desperately to not be ignored.

Not rooted in just traditional beliefs, but religions too, it’s hard to control or stop such fervour. The relatively shallow reach of the law, the secretive nature of such beliefs and trials make them even harder to control and influence. In Northern regions like the Upper East, a lack of widespread education works against a system meant to protect its people. With only a handful of NGOs and the limited reach of government, it’s likely the only true solution will be outside pressure on Ghana’s seemingly lax stance on such abuses.

Watching these things happen from the perspective of a long history in the same mistakes has been difficult for me (and many volunteers). The need to write about it, to acknowledge it, and offer a voice against something so quietly accepted locally has existed in me for quite some time. Sometimes finding the balance between a misguided local belief and one’s own heart is the hardest battle of service; it often seems contradictory, especially when human rights are involved. After hearing of two local stories, I decided to respectfully break my silence on the issue. As has always been my way, I wanted to open the discussion with Americans and Ghanaians alike.

More importantly, I’ve come to realize that sometimes the path of quiet acceptance is the wrong one; sometimes the largest lesson in a Peace Corps experience is coming to accept and face the truth of the world around you – a world you come to love in all of its parts, even the ugly and the difficult – and bring it into the light. It is the only way forward, after all, and I have faith in Ghana.

I would like to thank Lauren Corke and Dawn Rostad for sharing their stories with me and allowing me to use them in this article.

Witchcraft Beliefs in the Upper East


*It’s spread through feeding, not birth
*it’s harder for men to spread witchcraft because they don’t feed the children – there are less male witches
*There is a different balance in the blood, which can be tested
* They cannot see each other as witches, so it is harder to affect a different household
* There are witches who confess
* They live in trees; witchcraft is only done at night
* They can fly
* There is a society among witches with a witch king who demands the sacrifice of a loved one
* Witches don’t just kill, sometimes they make a person act out of character
* It is an old traditional belief, though Christianity has reinforced it
* Punishment depends on the level of witchcraft; both witches and ju-ju men can do good and bad
* If it’s natural hatred, a society will know
* A trial is by ju-ju, not law (which is actually illegal in the Constitution)
* Witches eat humans; they change a person into an animal, sacrifice the animal at gatherings (killing the spirit of the person) and eat the animal. The body of the stolen soul will die shortly after.
* Witches do not have souls
* After something happens, a witch will be revealed depending on the family
* The spirit of a village will protect from witchcraft; or it won’t
* It’s a gene – mothers can choose among their children to pass it along; the chosen child may not know (it depends on the relationship)
* It’s a gift given to a favourite child
* Some of the chosen refuse to use their magic for evil, but they still have the witch spirit
* In the UE they live in their communities,  unless something bad happens
* The Ju-ju man is always right, but it depends on circumstances
* Witches posses people to influence their actions
* You cannot tell the difference between a normal person and a witch unless under special circumstances
* Ju-ju men never lie
* Ju-ju men are also not corrupt; they do not demand anything special to ensure a certain result
* Depending on the spirit, a ju-ju man can also shape shift like a witch
* Witches are only banished in the North
* If the witches are children, depending on the spirit, the child is punished accordingly (including death)
*If you go against the wishes or warnings of the ju-ju and your acts are unnatural, you are a witch and punished – even children.
* If it’s a natural death, it’s find, but every death is consulted to authenticate its reason; there is no rush to bury the dead, traditional homes consult ju-ju, Christians will bury their dead, but over time a person will confess to having a hand in the death if need be.
* If you kill innocents, the spirit cannot sleep and you will confess to the crime. No confession: no witch

Further Reading:

Saturday, 10 March 2012

Kpando Football Tournament

On December 8th and 9th I held a PEPFAR event in Bame, a village near Kpando in the Volta region.  The event was a  football tournament including the villages of Fesi, Bame, and Dzewoe (all near Kpando).  Despite the standard hiccups; testing nurses showing up four hours late, one football team briefly refusing to play because they didn’t get paid, and a team not showing up we were able to hold a successful event. 
Peace Corps volunteers Tricia Rasmussen, TK Mangan, and Michael Shoup lent a helping hand. Tricia added valuable health expertise, TK was an invaluable score keeper, and Shoup kept the sex education interesting.  I partnered with a local organization named UNiTED that specializes in health education outreach in Kpando.   American and German volunteers working at UNiTED helped as well.
The football tournament consisted of three games over two days.  We held two different sessions in which we talked about HIV/AIDS, STI’s, sex education, and also held hand washing sessions for the children.  We tested over 240 people for HIV and all people found positive are currently receiving counseling and treatment.  Additionally we took blood pressure of around 250 people and discussed hypertension and ways to combat it.  Around one hundred people had their blood sugar tested. 
I encourage every PCV to do a PEPFAR event.  The hassles are well worth rewards.  People found positive can then receive the treatment and support they need.  Additionally you have the opportunity to teach people how to make good decisions with their health and ask questions about what they do not understand. 

- Chris Massie, PCV

Emma's Cartoon