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Arts and GH Heritage

From Kpando to the World: The Story Behind the Borborbor Dance

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On a warm evening in southeastern Ghana, the first drumbeat cuts through the air like a signal. A circle forms almost instantly. Women adjust their cloth around the waist, men step forward with a confident sway, and the rhythm begins to gather pace. Feet shuffle, shoulders roll, hips tilt to the pulse of drums and rattles. This is Borborbor, one of the most beloved social dances of the Ewe people, and in communities across the Volta Region, its rhythm still brings people together the way it did generations ago.

Borborbor did not begin as a grand cultural performance. Its roots lie in community life during the mid-20th century, when Ewe youth began creating new dance styles that reflected changing times. Oral histories often trace their emergence to the 1950s in the town of Kpando.

At the time, young people were fascinated by the brass band music played at military parades and public events during the late colonial period. The marching rhythms, steady drum patterns, and lively call-and-response singing inspired them to create something of their own.

What emerged was Borborbor—a dance that blended traditional Ewe drumming with the cadence of parade music. The name itself echoes the rolling sound of the drums. Soon, the style spread rapidly across towns and villages. It became especially popular at community gatherings, funerals, festivals, and celebrations where large groups could participate.

Unlike some ceremonial dances reserved for specific occasions, Borborbor is open and social. The drummers sit at the center, surrounded by dancers who move in loose formations. The steps are energetic but playful: knees bending low, feet stamping lightly into the ground, arms swinging in rhythm. Women often lead with graceful hip movements while men respond with confident footwork. Colorful cloth wraps, beads, and headscarves add visual flair as the dancers move.

Music is the lifeblood of the performance. A lead singer calls out verses—sometimes humorous, sometimes reflective—and the crowd answers in chorus. The songs can comment on daily life, celebrate community figures, or simply encourage dancers to move with more spirit. Laughter often breaks out mid-performance as dancers improvise gestures or tease one another through movement.

For the Ewe people today, Borborbor represents far more than entertainment. It carries a sense of belonging. At funerals, the dance becomes a way to honor the life of someone who has passed, celebrating their journey rather than dwelling only on grief. During festivals or family gatherings, it reinforces bonds between generations. Elders clap along proudly while younger dancers bring fresh energy to the circle.

Even beyond the Volta Region, Borborbor has traveled widely. Cultural troupes perform it on international stages, introducing global audiences to the pulse of Ewe music and dance. Yet its heart remains in the community spaces where it began—village squares, open courtyards, and festival grounds where drums echo long into the night.

When the rhythm starts, people rarely stay seated for long. Borborbor invites participation. It asks the body to listen, respond, and celebrate the simple joy of moving together.

Arts and GH Heritage

The Stories We Live With: Inside Nubuke Foundation’s Weight of the Ordinary

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A family photograph resting on a shelf may look like decoration. A half-finished piece of woven cloth may seem incomplete. A living room may simply be a place to sit.

At Nubuke Foundation in Accra, however, these familiar things are being asked to tell deeper stories.

Weight of the Ordinary, a group exhibition featuring Josiah Tsibu Manu, Priscilla Agbeti, Blanche Boni-Mississo, King David Osabutey (Kakalicka) and Sena Burgundy Appau, turns its attention to the overlooked details of daily life—and finds history hiding there.

Manu’s domestic interiors are particularly evocative. Furniture, photographs and household details become unofficial archives, recalling how Ghanaian homes often carry memories that never enter formal histories.

In Agbeti’s unfinished woven works, meanwhile, labour refuses to disappear behind polished craftsmanship.

The incomplete becomes deliberate, leaving viewers to consider the economic and social histories carried by textiles.

Elsewhere, Boni-Mississo examines how spaces determine who can move freely and who is kept at the margins. Kakalicka draws on Akan cosmology through his Ɔhɔhoɔ, or stranger, connecting questions of displacement and belonging with indigenous ideas.

Appau’s monumental blue figures turn inward, contemplating the uncertainty and possibility of becoming.

Together, the artists suggest that the everyday is not neutral. It is where memory is stored, identities are formed and social boundaries are experienced.

For audiences in Ghana and abroad, the exhibition offers an invitation to look again at what familiarity can conceal. Sometimes, the objects closest to us have the most to say.

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Arts and GH Heritage

The Ashanti Woman Who Made an Empire Negotiate

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Sometimes history survives not in monuments, but in memory. In Ghana, the beat of the atumpan once carried messages across kingdoms.

In Jamaica’s mist-covered Blue Mountains, that same language of rhythm became a weapon of survival.

Queen Nanny’s story begins in oral tradition, which holds that she was born among the Akan people before being captured during the transatlantic slave trade and forced to Jamaica.

What followed transformed her into one of the Caribbean’s most celebrated freedom fighters.

When the drum became a battlefield language

Leading the Windward Maroons, Nanny turned the rugged mountains into a fortress. British troops struggled against hidden trails, surprise attacks and a commander who understood that knowledge of the landscape could outweigh military strength.

Just as remarkable was her reported use of the atumpan, the Akan talking drum. What colonial forces dismissed as eerie sounds echoing through the hills became a coded communication system that helped coordinate resistance.

Years of failed campaigns eventually forced Britain to negotiate. The 1739 peace agreement with the Maroons remains one of the most striking acknowledgements that enslaved Africans had built a resistance too formidable to erase.

A bridge between Ghana and Jamaica

Today, Queen Nanny is Jamaica’s only female National Hero, and her portrait appears on the Jamaican $500 banknote.

Her legacy also reaches back across the Atlantic, reminding Ghanaians that culture can outlive displacement.

The rhythms that once echoed through Akan communities did not disappear at the coast.

They crossed an ocean, climbed a mountain, and became part of one of history’s most remarkable stories of resistance.

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Arts and GH Heritage

Father and Son Turn Chale Wote Stage Into a Statement on Africa’s Musical Future

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The most powerful moment at this year’s Chale Wote Street Art Festival wasn’t just another concert—it was a conversation between generations.

When Black Warrior and his son Swaggaquil shared the stage at Black Star Square during the 2026 edition of the festival, their performance carried a message that reached beyond music.

It introduced Black Roots Music, a developing cultural movement that places African identity, liberation, and contemporary expression at the centre of its sound.

For Black Warrior, known as The Liberator, the performance reflected decades of using music to champion African consciousness.

Swaggaquil, a rapper and producer, brought a younger generation’s energy to the stage, blending hip-hop with the same cultural foundations that shaped his father’s work.

Together, they framed their collaboration as an evolving inheritance rather than a nostalgic reunion.

More than a family performance

The appearance also served as a public launchpad for a broader ambition. According to the organisers, Black Roots Music is intended to function as a cultural philosophy rather than simply another genre, drawing from reggae, hip-hop, and African rhythms while keeping African identity firmly at its core.

Behind the project is Big Mountain Entertainment, a Ghana-based production company seeking to develop artists, live experiences, and creative intellectual property capable of competing internationally without losing their African origins.

The company describes the Chale Wote performance as proof that stories rooted in Ghana can resonate on global stages.

As Chale Wote continues to position Accra as one of Africa’s leading creative capitals, the father-and-son performance captured something larger than a festival highlight.

It suggested that Ghana’s next musical export may not simply be a new sound, but a new way of carrying heritage into the future.

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