To be Possessed by the Drum and Maracas: Reflections on Contemporary Ghanaian Christianity (Part I)

This blog article is part of my series of reflections on contemporary Ghanaian Christianity. The central argument I advance is that Christianity (liberative Christianity) as a co-opted religion is partially responsible for the resilience of many Ghanaians in and out of economic downturns. However, many churches and “men of God” have come to know how overpowering religion can be; Christians trust them with their very lives, and sometimes, this trust is exploited in ways which cause immense harm. My goal is to rediscover the fiduciary relationship which exists between religious leaders and their followers. I intend to clarify the duties which may emanate from such a relationship and the ways in which we can hold Christian leaders accountable in appropriate contexts.

Ghanaians are very religious people. Likewise, Ghanaian Christians (G.Cs) are very Christian. In Ghana’s capital Accra, many shops, including pharmacies and food vendors, don’t open for the better part of Sunday morning. Many keep the Sabbath holy and refuse to show up until Monday morning. The Lord is expected to feed you or heal you; you just have to believe.

Across the city, churches of all kinds, from established churches to megachurches and aspiring megachurches are full to the brim. In establishment types, congregants (as they prefer to be called) are rising, sitting, kneeling, and intoning hymns. Other churches have more rockstar setups, with choirs variously named “Amazing”, “Divine”, “Angelic” and the like, treating worshippers (as they prefer to be called) to the latest Hillsong pieces. These, they believe are the kind of songs that drive worshippers to the mercy seat and give short glimpses of the Jasper wall. This is the faith of our fathers, G.Cs like to think, no matter that their fathers worshipped other Gods.

Of course, these are Sundays. But G.Cs don’t get any less religious on other days of the week. They have stickers of their churches – prayed over and sold to them by their pastors – on their cars, shops, doors of homes/hostels, books, laptops, you name it. If you use the elegant public means of transport that the trotro is, you are likely to find career street preachers, some clad in the latest Kaftan designs, blasting local gospel songs through their portable speakers and calling all to Christ. Wo Haw Ne Sen? They never forget the offering boxes placed in the most conspicuous of spaces as a way of telling good G.Cs to contribute to the Lord’s work. No matter that the preachers’ daily bread comes from the boxes. In some trotros, you may find more preachers of the gospel. They will tell you about sin, heaven and hell, and ask why you want to go to hell. They often pay no fare when they get to their destinations, and yes, they’ll take an offering too.

If you choose to Uber yourself to work, be ready to listen to the sermon of a “renowned” man of God. Drivers never ask passengers whether they are interested in listening to the word of God. It is presumed that as a good G.C., you recognize your obligation to keep listening to God’s word wherever you go.

When some G.C.s arrive at work, the unwritten terms of their employment require them to attend morning devotion; the manager became born again a few years ago and never looked back. Failure to join may mean a less-than-favourable appraisal at the end of the year, and nobody wants that. Throughout the day, the spirit of the Lord moves in the hearts of Ghanaians as the Spirit of the Lord moved across the deep in Genesis. Many update their WhatsApp or Twitter statuses with bible verses celebrating life, death, health and just about anything. As of the time of writing, this G.C.’s Whatsapp profile picture is a verse from a Christian poem titled The Dream of Gerontius.

Traditionally, Friday nights have been the nights of answered prayers. G.Cs hold the hem of the Lord and scream mercy, better than Bartimaeus. They have many desperate intentions:

1. to find a wife or husband;
2. to find a job after many years of not finding one;
3. to ace a visa interview and find a job somewhere in Western Europe, or Eastern Europe, anywhere;
4. to dream of lotto numbers which will change their material circumstances overnight – some believe they have been too poor too long they think of it as a curse from a remote ancestor. One of these nights, all ancestral curses will be broken. They’ve heard testimonies before, Why not them, Lord?

G.Cs are leveraging technology too, and are beginning to do away with the weekly connection of their intentions to the physical altar. “Why not join Alpha Hour at 12 am instead?” they think to themselves. Plus, they can join every day via Zoom. Join your intentions to the altar via the message button and it will be equivalent to holding the hem of the Lord. “Be strong, and he shall comfort thine heart”. Psalm 27:14. Amen. G.C.s are nimble, innovative, and sharp. Friday all-night services are no longer hip. Alpha Hour is.

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The account above – a retelling of the ubiquity of Christianity – is not intended to stand in as an account for all that is wrong with Christianity in Ghana. On the contrary, it tells the story of the one thing, which together with beer bars and gambling houses gives Ghanaians hope.

It is true that the continent is full of poverty, unemployment, and widening inequality, all of which governments have failed to address. In Ghana today, inflation is over 50%, public utility tariffs have gone up and there is a general sense of hardship. Social support services are almost inexistent. E.T Mensah’s Inflation Calypso sums it best: Prices soaring high and high, as if there are going to reach the moon. Many homes are having to make the tough decision about the meal to skip. Other homes are using one egg for breakfast when ordinarily, two or three would have been sufficient. Middle-class Ghanaians are beginning to wonder whether Heineken really tastes better than Star and whether the DSTV Compact+ subscription is really worth it. Football fans are agreed that the love for one’s club is in the heart and not in the new season’s jersey. In the midst of all the disillusionment, Ghanaians have been asked to sacrifice and pay more taxes. Money does not make noise, our President has told us in French, English and Twi.

Ghanaians have demanded greater accountability. Some have protested. It is unclear whether this has resulted in any substantial relief. The problems have only compounded. In such powerlessness and choicelessness, it is not strange that G.C.s have given up. They can’t fight the system. Yet, they still hope that things will change. And no place has such an abundant aura of hope as churches. Churches and “men of God” purvey such hope and in return, G.C.s pay tithes and church dues (some pay offerings). It is a small price to pay for hope in a dismal place. Churches and their leaders have through this transaction amassed great power which equals and arguably supersedes political power. With such power should come great responsibility.

In the next post, I consider the good and bad sides of this transaction of hope – and justify why a latent contractual basis of the relationship between churches, “men of God” and their members provides a more legitimate basis for holding churches and “men of God” more accountable.