By Saul Sebag-Montefiore
This year's Edina Bakatue festival has been observed with the casting of the net in the Benya lagoon signifying an end on ban on fishing in Elmina.
The festival gives one an exclusive opportunity to see, smell and taste Ghana as people swarm the streets of Elmina to celebrate the start of a new season of commerce.
| Nana Kodwo Conduah VI |
Edina Bakatue is an event that not only shouts but roars Ghanaian culture and tradition with power and conviction. The streets and riverbanks overflow with shouting, smiling and dancing Africans who have travelled far and wide to take part in the proceedings. Music blares and thumps relentlessly as the hot equatorial sun beats down with the cool sea breeze licking the sweat from your forehead. The locals dress up in splendid array of vividly colourful outfits, masks and hats. There are saleswomen with astronomical sized bags of popcorn balanced precariously on their heads which cast a shadow that eclipse anyone who stands behind them. Men splash about in the water removing the debris that has gathered during the fishing ban in preperation for the proceedings. It feels like a carnival and you can almost taste the fresh succulent, grilled fish that will soon leap pure and triumphant from the clensed the lagoon and land gracefully onto your white plate. It cannot be described as a mere feast for the eyes, it is more like a banquet, and after five minutes all of your senses are tingling, ringing and reverberating with uncontrollable vigour and excitement.
Then, in an instant, the chiefs, elders and fetish priests emerge in extravagant richly designed robes, laden with copious amounts of glimmering gold jewlery, intricately designed crowns and symbolically engraved staffs. As they walked down the road with the sun gleaming impressively off their gold; a group of men approached carrying elaborate, brightly coloured thrones on their heads that they placed carefully on the dusty ground so the chiefs could sit down. They are accompanied by long lines of girls who carried golden chairs on top of their heads. Eventually the paramount chief emerges dramatically from his home to the rapturous cries of the crowds who swarm over, mouths gaping to witness the first ritual of chanting and the pouring of alcohol over the ground.
The paramount chief is then led by his entourage to his enormous throne and was hoisted high above the crowd by four men who shake in their endurance of great pain to support their chief. Their suffering is plain to see as deep creases blossoming on their crushed, crumpled foreheads under the great weight of the golden thrown. The other chiefs follow suit and as they are paraded through the streets they look the very image of status and power. As a group they are so overwhelmingly impressive that their appearance even makes the sun look drab. As they advance slowly towards the river drums and bells are beaten creating an entrancing rhythm. It is a surreal experience, like you are being transported back in time to a medieval royal parade as the adoring crowds shout and gasp in awe as Kings and Queens smile and wave pleasantly to the people that they were sent by God to protect.
By the river, as the spectators wait eagerly for the chiefs to arrive, the canoe race commences and women sing raucously on boats that spin dangerously out of control, colliding into other boats knocking their crews into the water much to their disgust and the crowds’ pleasure. As the chiefs procession approaches an atmosphere of electric anticipation rises. The river is cleared of colliding boats – the stage is set for the main event; the casting of the net which officially opens the lagoon for a new season of fishing and commerce. This moment of peace allows you to bask and wallow in the outrageous pomp, drama and intensity of this event defined by the sight of eagerly awaiting spectators piled high on capsized ships to witness the big event.
As the sun begins to go down the chiefs arrive in all their grandeur, and walk slowly towards the river. The fetish priests perform the rituals: tasting the water to signify its purity and chanting, throwing food and alcohol into the water and then draw invisible lines from the lagoon to the sea with sticks. Then the two priests enter lagoon with a bowl of green plants on their heads. They take it off and rest it in the water and then suddenly they plunge each other and the bowl underwater. They writhe around and squirm for about a minute and then resurface; the ritual is done. Finally it was time for the main event; the casting of the net. A fisherman enters the water with a net and whirls it around his head before casting it into the water and dragging it back to himself full of wriggling fish (and debris). This is repeated three times and then the lagoon has officially been purified and opened; the fishing season has begun.
Edina Bakatue is a unique experience of deeply entrenched Ghanaian culture. Yet some Ghanaians refuse to attend the festival because they see it as an invalid event because it is not part of Christianity. However, it is an important event for the nation because it wrenches open Ghana’s history. Edina Bakatue is a rare and valuable relic of the religion that was followed by every African’s ancestors before European missionaries introduced Christianity. It is the history behind the festival which gives it such meaning, depth and richness. This is why it should remain a strong part of Ghanaian culture and should be upheld for its heritage and history rather than its religious meaning. The paramount chief himself is Christian yet he leads the event. The festival continues throughout the week and reaches its climax on Saturday. It is difficult to imagine how it could possibly get any bigger but I have faith that Ghana will achieve it.
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