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.

Leading international galleries and cultural institutions have issued a joint statement condemning the alleged police brutality against the renowned artist and calling for an immediate, independent investigation.

Accra, Ghana / International – A coalition of prominent international arts institutions, galleries, and cultural organizations has issued a powerful joint statement condemning the alleged violent assault of Ghanaian artist Ibrahim Mahama by officers of the Ghana Police Service in Tamale on March 21, 2026, and demanding urgent accountability.

The statement, released on March 23, 2026, brings together some of the most influential names in the global art world, including White Cube, Apalazzo Gallery, the Savannah Center for Contemporary Art (SCCA Tamale), Red Clay, Nkrumah Voli-ni, blaxTARLINES KUMASI, the Foundation for Contemporary Art – Ghana, and Compound House Gallery.

Mahama, a globally respected contemporary artist who was named the number one figure on Art Review’s prestigious Power 100 list in 2025, was reportedly assaulted following a traffic incident in Tamale. According to accounts, police officers allegedly forced entry into his vehicle and physically assaulted him and members of his family. Mahama, who holds diplomatic status, has since cancelled all international lectures and exhibitions due to injuries sustained in the incident.

The joint statement describes the alleged actions as “a deeply troubling abuse of power and a serious violation of fundamental human rights.”

“That such violence was directed at a civilian, a respected cultural figure, and an individual holding diplomatic status raises urgent concerns about the conduct, discipline, and accountability mechanisms within law enforcement structures in Ghana,” the statement read.

While acknowledging that regional and national authorities have indicated that an investigation will be conducted, the signatories emphasized that “expressions of concern are insufficient without transparent, timely, and decisive action.”

The coalition issued three specific demands to the Government of Ghana:

– Initiate an immediate, independent, and transparent investigation into the assault on Ibrahim Mahama and all affected individuals.

– Publicly identify and hold accountable all officers involved, ensuring due legal process without interference.

– Provide full medical, legal, and institutional support to the victims of the attack.

The statement highlighted Mahama’s significance beyond his artistic practice, noting his role as a cultural leader and institution builder. He founded the Savannah Center for Contemporary Art (SCCA Tamale), Red Clay Studio, and Nkrumah Voli-ni — spaces described as “vital platforms for artistic research, education, and community engagement across West Africa.”

The Inspector-General of Police has since directed the Police Professional Standards Bureau (PPB) to investigate the allegations, but the international arts community insists that accountability must follow swiftly.

“We stand in solidarity with Ibrahim Mahama, his family, and all individuals who have suffered from similar abuses,” the statement concluded. “Accountability is not optional. It is essential.”

The signatories also called on international cultural institutions, human rights organizations, and public figures to endorse the statement and join the demand for justice.

The case has drawn global attention to police accountability in Ghana, with cultural leaders framing Mahama’s treatment as a bellwether for broader concerns about law enforcement conduct, the protection of civilians, and the state’s responsibility to safeguard its citizens — regardless of their public stature.

On a warm evening along the coast of Accra, the beat of hand-played drums begins to ripple through the air. Young dancers gather in a loose circle, their shoulders rolling, hips snapping sharply to the rhythm, while friends clap and cheer.

The dance is playful, confident, and unmistakably Ghanaian. This is Kpanlogo, one of the most recognizable cultural expressions of the Ga people, and a dance whose roots lie in youthful rebellion, post-independence optimism, and the vibrant social life of Accra in the 1960s.

Kpanlogo emerged during a transformative period in Ghana’s history. The country had just gained independence from Britain in 1957 under Kwame Nkrumah, and a wave of cultural confidence swept through the nation.

In the working-class neighborhoods of Accra—particularly communities like Jamestown and Teshie—Ga youth began experimenting with new ways to express themselves through music and dance.

At the time, traditional Ga dances were often tied to rituals, festivals, or community ceremonies led by elders. But younger people wanted something different: a dance that reflected their generation’s energy and the rapidly changing social scene in the city.

They began blending older Ga rhythms with new influences from Highlife music, Caribbean sounds, and even elements of American pop culture that had started to reach Ghana’s shores.

Out of this creative ferment came Kpanlogo.

The dance was bold and modern for its time. Its movements—characterized by bent knees, rhythmic hip swings, and expressive arm gestures—broke away from the stricter patterns of older ceremonial dances.

The drumming style was equally distinctive, built around a lively ensemble of hand drums and percussion instruments that drove the dancers forward with infectious energy.

But Kpanlogo was more than entertainment. In its early years, it became a symbol of youthful freedom and social change.

Some elders initially viewed the dance as rebellious or even inappropriate because of its energetic movements and playful interactions between male and female dancers. Yet its popularity spread quickly, turning street corners, beaches, and community gatherings into impromptu dance grounds.

Within a few years, what began as a youth craze had become a cultural phenomenon. The rhythms and choreography were eventually embraced by cultural troupes and national dance ensembles, helping introduce Kpanlogo to audiences across Ghana and beyond.

Today, the dance holds a special place in Ga cultural identity. It is often performed during community celebrations, national events, and cultural festivals across Accra.

Schools and cultural groups teach the dance to younger generations, ensuring that the rhythm continues to echo through the city’s neighborhoods.

For the Ga people, Kpanlogo represents more than movement—it reflects the spirit of Accra itself. The dance captures the city’s coastal vibrancy, its humor, its openness to new ideas, and its ability to transform tradition without losing its roots.

When the drums begin, and dancers step forward, Kpanlogo tells a story that began decades ago with the dreams of young people in a newly independent nation. Today, that story continues each time the rhythm rises, and the crowd gathers to move as one.