Popular Ghanaian Video Movies

My position toward Ghanaian videos in general (and the sakawa film series in particular) as popular cultural media products is that they are not “true” and/or unmediated renditions of the various issues they (re)present (see Barber Reference Barber1987, Reference Barber and Barber1997). Growing up in the “video boom” era in Ghana in the 1990s (and with my impressions reaffirmed in my field research in 2008‒9, an eight- month field research in 2010, as well as my presence in Ghana as a postdoctoral researcher in 2012), I am aware that most of these films borrow heavily from (and/or are titled after) circulating urban narratives, which producers filter “from the world ‘out there’ . . . through various apparatuses of film production” (Plate Reference Plate and Plate2003:262).^{Footnote 2} Furthermore, in an industry in which producers rely solely on the success of their films in the market to fund future productions, they, like other “authors” of Ghanaian popular syncretic works, strive to create products that resonate with a broad audience to ensure profit (Meyer 1999; Yankah Reference Yankah1984). Thus film producers tap into, and appropriate, circulating stories with potential appeal to audiences. For example, Socrate Safo, the chief executive officer of Movie Africa Productions, has established a Movie Africa Artist Club for actors and actresses who meet weekly to rehearse upcoming movie plots and also discuss “hot” circulating topics in town. Fiifi Paada, a leading actor in Sakawa Boys, told me of at least one plot that originated at such a meetings from a fellow actor who made it known that he had been “involved in a sakawa deal. So he gave him [Socrate] all the details. Then the little that we’ve known from people, we added, then it became a complete story” for the movie’s plot (interview, Accra, 2009).

This statement points to a collaborative effort that is involved in appropriating and refashioning both “fact” and popular narratives about sakawa as a basis for video production. At the time of this conversation, one could also see prominently displayed advertising posters for the most recent Sakawa Boys video at various locations in Accra, which arguably hyped the sakawa issue in the public domain. Producers also strive to convince audiences that the movies portray the “actual” rituals that sakawa fraudsters perform. On private television channels the film’s trailer showcased snippets of alleged sakawa rituals and spiritual fortification processes that are believed to occur in the supernatural realm to ensure the fraudsters’ success. In one of the Sakawa Boys films for example, Socrate Safo, in an attempt to replicate an actual sakawa ritual, used real coffins for a scene in which a religious specialist commands three sakawa boys to sleep in them as part of the ritual.

It should be noted that film producers’ determination to portray spiritual “reality” in the films is connected to the deeply taken-for-granted world of active spirits in Ghanaian popular culture, as well as the nature of Pentecostal religious beliefs. Thus, as Meyer (Reference Meyer2005, Reference Meyer and Meyer2009) compellingly argues, the complex interdependency between technology and religion taps into preexisting Charismatic-Pentecostal “religious sensational forms,” which are best understood as “a condensation of practices, attitudes, and ideas that structure religious experiences” (2009:13). Thus audiences judge whether the representations of spiritual matters in the videos are “real” and believable or are unbelievable deviations (referred to in Ghanaian local parlance as awam, or fake) according to whether depictions of the supernatural realm do or do not live up to their knowledge and expectation of popular Charismatic-Pentecostal religious beliefs and rituals. An example of such an idea is the perceived antagonistic relationship between humans and awiem atumfuo—malevolent spiritual beings in high places—as represented in the Bible’s Book of Ephesians 6:12. Charismatic-Pentecostals believe that one can win in this confrontation only through spiritually crafted weapons made potent by the blood of Jesus. Thus when I watched the movie Obonsam Besu (Devil May Cry) (Ninja Film Productions, 2010), audience members laughed derisively at certain scenes considered as awam. Most Ghanaian film audiences are aware that these movies are fictional “realities.” In this film, however, the audience considered as deeply flawed a scene in which spiritually unfortified people observed the Devil fly over Asafo Market in Kumasi. What made such a scene awam, as people explained to me, was its violation of popularly shared religious convictions about what is real or false or both—in this case, the widespread belief that it is impossible to “see” the Devil or any of his agents without being a spiritually anointed Christian.

From the above, we can argue that the “reality” or “truth” of popular movies that seek to depict the spiritual domain depends on how accurately they mirror popular Charismatic-Pentecostal religious ideas about God and the Devil. As Meyer (2005:178) says, it is through this “techno-religious realism . . . [that] the technologies of make-believe [support] . . . spectators’ desire to believe in, and receive visual evidence for, the power of God” (or the truth of Satan’s diabolical works). I was indeed told countless times that the appeal of these movies is that “won yi ahinta asem bi adi” (they reveal certain hidden truths) or allow people to witness “honhon mu nneema wontumi mfa w’ani kann enhu” (spiritual matters that cannot be sensed with one’s physical eyes). These movies, therefore, have to be understood as fictionalized and “edited” representations of the sakawa phenomenon rather than any documentary representation of real life (see Yankah Reference Yankah1984:571).

Sakawa Beliefs and Ritual Practices

In various conversations with people who claimed to be knowledgeable about sakawa, I became aware of some of the alleged rituals associated with the phenomenon. Some of these rituals include self-inflicted wounds that never heal; sleeping in coffins for a number of days at cemeteries; carrying coffins during the night to isolated road intersections; and eating the contents from rubbish dumps. Engaging in these rituals (and the high likelihood of doing so imperfectly and violating their tenets), while bringing the individual wealth, allegedly results in dire consequences fairly quickly, including ill health, insanity, and/or ultimately death. In various conversations with people of diverse faiths in Accra, I realized the extent to which beliefs are aligned with convictions about the success of religious rituals in enabling a material outcome. I was alerted to the fact that just as there are practices in Ghanaian Pentecostal Christian circles such as “dry fasting” (going without food and water for a specified period) and reading specific Bible passages to achieve a material outcome, there are also occult practices engaged in for similar purposes. The other major religion in Ghana—Islam—also promotes a strong belief in the power of supernatural forces to shape people’s material well-being through mediated rituals.

Underlying this belief and the associated rituals of traditional religion are two basic convictions. The first is that the supernatural realm consists of good and evil (as I was often told, “se nea Onyame tumi wo ho no, saa nso na Obonsam tumi wo ho” [as God’s power exists, so does Satan’s power]), and that both of these domains can be accessed through rituals. The second premise is that the sacred and the profane worlds are closely intertwined. The inseparable relationship within traditional religion between the physical and spiritual worlds can be seen in the practice of invoking material blessings from the Supreme Being and dead ancestors through libations and sacrifices. Thus, at Ghanaian cultural ceremonies and festivals, supplicants engage in libation-prayers in which they ask for long life and material wealth, harmony in their interpersonal relationships, and protection from evil forces and persons. It is believed that such requests, addressed to supernatural entities such as gods, ancestors, and the Supreme Being and accompanied by libation, will be granted.

There are also a number of popular narratives and morality tales in Ghana that crosscut ethnic affiliations and promote the belief that people can perform certain occult rituals to generate financial wealth. Sometimes the results are catastrophic, however; as one popular saying expresses the idea, “ape ntem, anya ntem, ene owuo ne nam” (seeking it quick, getting it quick, [both] leads to death). In one such story, a gentleman seeks the services of a magico-religious center that specializes in wealth generation. He is told that he has two choices of ritual sacrifice: either to name someone he loves for a spiritual sacrifice, or alternatively, to provide a hen, which would be starved for three days and then fed with maize. Allegedly, the number of ears of maize that the hen ate would correspond to the exact number of years that the gentleman would live to enjoy his wealth. Believing that both options are equally efficacious, the man chooses the latter, although the hen he provides, according to the story, is sickly. When it is released it has no appetite, just stares at its food, and wobbles off. The gentleman is sent away and dies that very day upon reaching home.

While the above narrative represents a popular fictional tale, many circulating stories about occult sources of wealth are widely accepted as true. For example, among the Kwahu ethnic group in the Eastern region, wealth purportedly gained through occult means is referred to as sikaduro (literally, money medicine), and Obo, one of the major towns in Kwahu, is known for its several inhabitants who have acquired wealth through such means. People point to unoccupied buildings and note that such houses are now uninhabitable because they are haunted by the souls of people who were sacrificed for sikaduro. The Nzema people of Western Ghana are also believed to have magico-religious centers that make people rich through occult rituals. At these centers, supplicants are supposedly given pythons that vomit money. They are then required to perform and observe specific rituals with the pythons in order to ensure their wealth, and failure to do so carries the threat not just of renewed poverty, but also of madness or even death.

It must be stressed that in spite of the pervasiveness of such narratives, occult-derived wealth is generally condemned, tagged as sika fi (dirty/evil/contaminated money) or sika bone (bad money). Thus shop owners and market men and women typically refuse to do business with persons whose wealth is suspect, or else they are careful not to mingle any currency received from such individuals with their existing assets. The threat is a spiritual siphoning away of one’s wealth and a collapsed business. The occult practices are also condemned by mainstream religions, although they do believe, in general, in the efficacy of religious rituals in bringing about material outcomes. In Islam, a ritual believed to ensure material blessings to the giver is known as salaka or saraka (alms giving/charity). Within the Muslim community at Nii Boi Town, where I lived, wealthy individuals believe that the distribution of free beef to the needy will result in material rewards from Allah. In Ghanaian Charismatic-Pentecostal Christian circles, a popular belief is expressed in a paraphrase of Matthew 8:1: “Nea y’akyirikyiri wo asaase so no, na y’akyirikyiri wo soro” (Whatever is bound on earth, is bound in heaven). Such belief is crucial in understanding some of the ritual practices that one observes in prayer-healing-deliverance sessions in which church leaders use consecrated olive oil to anoint people’s foreheads or palms to block the acts of malevolent spirits believed to thwart the material blessings of believers. In a similar manner, leaders like the self-styled “Rev. Dr.” Ebenezer Opambour Adarkwa Yiadom (alias Prophet One) of Ebenezer Miracle Worship Center “command” those with financial and other life problems to verbalize these issues over specified amounts of cash to be left in offertory bowls. Such monies are deemed to act as entry points through which the transcendental manifests itself to answer supplicants’ requests.

As the discussion above suggests, a particular set of beliefs that is shared by many people in Ghana—that is, moral condemnation of criminal behavior combined with a belief in the capacity of religious rituals to produce a material outcome—accounts in large part for the ready capacity of most Ghanaians to condemn the criminal act of sakawa practices while believing in the spiritual efficacy of the alleged sakawa rituals. Since religious rituals are associated with cyberfraud, the discussion also suggests that the widespread and largely Western supposition “that religion and technology exist as two ontologically distinct arenas of experience, knowledge and actions” (Stolow Reference Stolow and Stolow2013: 2; see also de Witte Reference de Witte and Stolow2013) is contradicted by the Ghanaian situation.

Sakawa in Ghanaian Public Media

In 2008, the period of my initial research, sakawa was a widely discussed topic in many Accra neighborhoods, with stories published, for example, in The Daily Guide, and references to the phenomenon appearing in other printed sources such as calendar posters (see figure 1). However, it was not until mid-2009 that one witnessed a sustained mainstream media focus on sakawa, beginning with a report in The Daily Graphic in May 2009 (see figure 2). In recognition of the sakawa phenomenon in the mainstream media, Movie Africa Productions also released Sakawa Boys (2009), the first film series on sakawa.

Figure 1.

Calendar Poster

The rest of this section consists of excerpts from newspaper reports about the sakawa phenomenon and the response of Ghanaian political leaders. This is followed by a discussion of these leaders’ understanding of what fuels the practice.

Figure 2.

Daily Graphic, May 12, 2009

Discussion of Political Discourses on Sakawa

Four dominant themes are evident in these comments of Ghanaian political leaders. The first is the belief that sakawa has penetrated deeply into Ghanaian society and taken over helpless, passive youths involved in the practice. Thus Vice President (now President) John Dramani Mahama noted that the dire consequences of sakawa were “eating deep into the moral fiber of the youth.”^{Footnote 3} The focus on the stealthy nature of sakawa and the alarmist perspective on its effects on susceptible youths is also evident in the statements of Justice Joe Appiah, the MP of Ablekuma North, and of the late President of Ghana, Atta Mills.

The second dominant theme is the view that sakawa fraudsters are motivated by pure greed and the desire to get rich quickly. What is particularly interesting, however, is the near silence on some of the factors that sustain the practice, such as widespread unemployment.

The third theme is the view that the practice of sakawa is sustained by private Internet cafes, especially those who operate around the clock, as mentioned by Zeta Okaikwei, then the Minister of Information. The subtext of her statement about the government’s intention to examine “the activities of Internet Cafes . . . [and] issue some directives to regulate their function” is that the government’s failure to regulate these operators is responsible for the practice of sakawa.

The fourth theme is the connection between the sakawa “menace” and the “creeping” immorality, or at least the impression of immorality, in the country in general, especially among the youth. In this regard the proposed solution and antidote to the sakawa threat, offered by both the vice president and the late president, is the promotion of Christian messages by powerful political leaders, the preaching of ministers against sakawa from the pulpit, and the cooperation of Christian parents, who must, Mills said, “make it their duty to train the youth in the ways of the Lord [and] to help inculcate the fear of God in them.” The political leaders’ perspectives, however, offer a fairly superficial understanding of the possible root causes of this practice, as we will see below.

The next section is concerned with the thematic focus on sakawa of the Dons series within the context of other sakawa films such as Sakawa Boys (2009) and Agya Koo Sakawa (2009). Although I have watched many sakawa series created by different producers, I chose these examples not only for their popularity but also because they represent three dominant types of filmmaking in contemporary Ghana. Movies made specifically in Akan (for example Agya Koo Sakawa), which enjoy the widest audience by far, draw directly from popular concert party tradition of being comical while engaging with key social issues and are derogatively dubbed “concert films” or “Agya Koo movies.”^{Footnote 4} In the second type (for example, Sakawa Boys), characters speak predominantly in Pidgin English, with some standard English and any of the Ghanaian languages thrown into the mix. The third type, which is fairly recent, is what people term “Shirley Frimpong-Manso movies” (for example The Dons of Sakawa), named after one of the most successful contemporary producers. These films are directed to educated, elite viewers.

Sakawa in Popular Ghanaian Videos: The Dons of Sakawa

The Dons series revolves around three characters—Hakeem, Mike, and Justin. Through the initial scenes and their conversation, the viewer becomes aware that these friends have graduated from the well-respected University of Ghana at Legon and that they have aspirations of securing good jobs and leading a fulfilling upper-middle-class life. However, after three years, Hakeem, who graduated first class honors in computer science, has not secured a job. After a typical day of his unsuccessful job search, he returns home to witness his fiancée’s infidelity in their bedroom with her boss. The fiancée defends her action, noting that since Hakeem has “not a Cedi tied to his name” she had to do whatever was necessary to “clothe and feed and take care of [his] needs.”

Mike and Justin, on the other hand, work part-time for Chief Titus, a notorious fraudster who collaborates with corrupt government personnel who supply him with authentic documents for his illegal activities. They spend the rest of their time engaged in small-scale Internet fraud and blackmail. Eventually they sever their ties with the Chief, who they feel compensated them inadequately for their services, and establish an independent cyberfraud business. Four years after finishing college they meet up again with Hakeem, and Mike attempts to convince him to join them. Initially, Hakeem refuses to be involved in “anything illegal,” but the harsh realities of unemployment force him to change his mind. Nevertheless, in spite of Hakeem’s expertise in hacking online credit-card databases and following every known script in the scam business, their attempts yield very minimum returns. Unbeknownst to these amateur cyberfraudsters, merely using one’s intelligence for deceit is not enough; as Lord Bokka, the Custodian of the Shrine of Lord Calipha, Giver of Wealth Immeasurable, tells them, one “must [also spiritually] control [potential victims’] hearts and minds . . . to [let them] do [one’s] bidding without hesitation.”

Mike and Justin convince Hakeem—who initially did not “want to be involved in any voodoo shit”—to visit the Shrine of Calipha, where Lord Bokka makes them undergo a three-stage ritual: first, a blood covenant that officially binds them to Lord Calipha’s rules; second, a spiritual cleansing that involves carrying coffins, while naked, in the middle of the night through deserted parts of town to a cemetery; and lastly, swallowing ritual objects meant to establish a contact point between them and Lord Calipha—a frog (Hakeem), a tarantula (Mike), and a large ring (Justin). This ritual, as Lord Bokka explains, ensures that “whatever or whoever you demand from anyone shall be granted without hesitation.” Within forty-eight hours the friends, with the help of a corrupt police superintendent, dupe a previously reluctant investor to hand over four and a half million dollars.

At the Shrine of Calipha, Lord Bokka also informs the supplicants of a “golden rule” that each has to observe in order to ensure their continued success. Mike has to be sexually intimate with a madwoman once a month. Justin has to be faithful to Stacy, his longtime girlfriend. And Hakeem is prohibited from using his wealth to pay for medical treatments for his mother and younger female sibling. However, all the friends flout these rules. Justin cheats on Stacy and then jilts her; Stacy later murders Justin and commits suicide. Hakeem initially refuses to pay for his mother’s emergency medical care but changes his mind. When he visits her at home after her release from the hospital, Lord Bokka makes an appearance and demands Hakeem’s soul as a punishment. A Christian pastor from Hakeem’s mother’s church intervenes on Hakeem’s behalf, resulting in a spiritual fight between the representatives of good and evil in which evil Lord Bokka wins, and Hakeem dies.

Discussion of Sakawa in Popular Films

What, then, are we to make of this Ghanaian occult discourse in popular Ghanaian videos vis-à-vis the comments of Ghanaian politicians on this same issue? In answering the question, I approach the narrative such as the one summarized above as reflecting the “multidimensional, polysemic and deeply situated” (Carbaugh Reference Carbaugh2007:169) nature of contemporary Ghanaian issues such as sakawa. Such a reflection, I argue, serves as a counterdiscourse to the sorts of comments produced by Ghanaian political leaders who are arguably themselves audiences of sakawa movies, particularly those of Shirley Frimpong Manso. Yet the films’ narratives penetrate Ghanaian social realities far more adequately and with more nuance than the comments of the political leaders do.

Some of the leaders, as we have seen, frame the issue with repeated images of corruption of the moral fiber of the nation and also suggest that sakawa fraudsters are motivated purely by greed. However, both the Dons series and films like Sakawa Boys and Agya Koo Sakawa, which are specifically targeted to a less elite audience, attribute characters’ involvements in sakawa at least partly to conditions in their social world such as unemployment. Another external factor, as revealed in Sakawa Boys, is the problematic nature of Ghanaian inheritance practices. In this movie, Edem loses his father, who has left behind considerable wealth, but becomes destitute along with his mother because a paternal uncle who lawfully inherited the wealth refuses to take care of them. Later on, Edem’s mother becomes sick, and in desperation to find funds to care for her, he is forced to partake in sakawa. Thus, while the political discourse on sakawa is concerned mostly with moral admonishment, the films, while often acknowledging the role of greed in practitioners of sakawa, also foreground social problems such as joblessness and poverty.

According to the African Economic Outlook (2012:2) report on Ghana, the “population in the 15‒24 age group has an unemployment rate of 25.6%, twice that of the 25‒44 age group and three times that of the 45‒64 age group.” In Ghana, the large numbers of youths who sell assorted merchandise in the streets is a daily visual reminder of the magnitude of the problem. Since Ghana’s return to democracy in 1992, the nation has pursued youth policies that recognize youth unemployment as a critical national problem that urgently needs to be solved, although clearly it will remain for the near future.^{Footnote 5} With regard to university graduate unemployment in particular, the problem is exacerbated by the government’s accreditation of private universities. This move had the laudable goal of helping to educate qualified students who were not admitted to the government-owned universities, but its unintended consequence is that large numbers of university graduates cannot find jobs or high-paying work that is commensurate with their skills and education. In this context of high youth unemployment, the proliferation of illegal enterprises is only one of many consequences. Another is the upsurge of NDC “foot soldiers” in the political arena who have engaged in the destruction of national property, seizure of public toilets and toll-booths, and the ejection of public officials from their offices to protest the unfulfilled promises of their leaders, since the 2008 presidential elections, to provide them with jobs. Such protests and illegal actions in recent Ghanaian politics, and the initial near silence from state authorities, point to a larger problem that is also dramatized in the Dons series: the connivance of some powerful state personnel with the sakawa boys. The collaboration in the Dons between the young men and a corrupt superintendent of police, who assists them in stealing four million dollars from a bank, reveals how sakawa results not just from unemployment (let alone from greed), but rather from a large and complex network of serious national issues that are not just ignored, but actually aided by the collaboration of some highly placed officials. In this context, solutions to such serious national matters cannot consist in urging clergymen to “use the pulpit to preach against the ‘sakawa’ menace,” as proffered by the late President.