Living with Nkrumahism. Jeffrey S. Ahlman

“in accordance with Gold Coast customary law.”⁸¹ Ofori Atta, J. B. Danquah’s nephew and the son of the former king of Akyem Abuakwa, did not stop there. Rather, he further suggested that, when considering all of the constituencies with claims on Tema’s lands, Tema’s chiefs and even the people of Tema did not have the authority to sell the land to the government. Instead, he argued that they were simply holding it “in trust” for not only the village’s present residents and future generations but also “their ancestors who are dead.”⁸² Nii Kwabena Bonne II, the Accra chief and businessman who had orchestrated the famed 1948 Accra boycott, echoed Ofori Atta in his own remarks in the Legislative Assembly. For Nii Bonne, though, the key concern was what he interpreted as the shortsightedness of contemporary agreements ceding stool lands to a government that “has been in power only 18 months.” As he pointed out, “generations unborn will depend upon the land,” and such a hasty decision to force a sale of the land had the potential of mistaking and/or neglecting their future needs.⁸³ Still others portrayed the entire Tema project as an elaborate waste of money.⁸⁴

      In Tema itself, initial opposition to the CPP government’s plans centered on accusations that the government had defrauded the community. Approximately a week after the Legislative Assembly passed the land acquisition bill, the chiefs of Tema and neighboring Nungua and Kpone complained that the government had not consulted them prior to bringing the bill before the assembly. The Tema mantse (paramount chief) went so far as to accuse the CPP’s minister of housing, A. Ansah Koi, of attempting to “prejudice the Tema Stool and people in their fight to maintain their right to live on their God-given land.” He also rejected claims by certain government ministers that the area’s chiefs had paid off opposition figures like Ofori Atta “in order to champion their cause in the Assembly.”⁸⁵ By early August, though, the Tema mantse would soften his position as he offered his consent to the sale of the harbor land and the leasing of the land necessary for the industrial city.⁸⁶ However, in doing so, he unleashed a wave of popular protests in the town against both the government and the chief, as priests, youth, and market women challenged the authority of the chief to transfer ownership of the land—with all that it entailed culturally, economically, and spiritually—to “strangers.” The protests culminated in an attempted populist destoolment of the chief and assertions from many members of the community that under no circumstances would they leave their homes and traditional lands.⁸⁷ As one longtime Tema resident, Samuel Kofi Kotey, recalled, the Tema mantse had lost his legitimacy among many in the community, as the protesters accused him of “collect[ing] some money from the government” and forsaking his responsibilities to Tema.⁸⁸

      The protests in Tema would go on for much of the next seven years. In order to try and assuage the community, the government regularly sought to amend its compensation packages with promises of a new fishing beach, rent-free farm lands with seventy-five-year leases, and, for some, cash payments.⁸⁹ As Peter Du Sautoy—who for much of the period headed the Gold Coast’s Department of Social Welfare—argued, the government believed it was doing everything it could to ensure an orderly, respectful, and mutually beneficial resettlement.⁹⁰ Regardless, suspicions abounded. Meanwhile, over the course of the 1950s new groups continuously arrived in the area in anticipation of the job opportunities associated with the construction of the new harbor and industrial city. The result was a ballooning population that reached approximately ten thousand by the end of the decade, further exacerbating tensions within Tema itself and between the Tema-born Ga and the government.⁹¹ As Du Sautoy contends, these “newcomers” established illegal housing units and shacks that would ultimately have to be removed. Moreover, they also constituted a new population, which did not have clear rights to the compensation programs offered by the government and would thus eventually have to be relocated.⁹²

      It was not until 1959 that the CPP completed the resettlement of Tema, much later than anticipated and, finally, only largely via the threat of force. In the end, even the most adamant resisters of relocation took up homes in Tema Manhean. As Kotey (who was born in the old town but grew up in Tema Manhean) recounted, the government’s decision to resort to force offered even the most virulent protesters little choice but to retreat. According to him, “they planned to stay, but when the Caterpillar [bulldozers] came, the machine began breaking the houses before they [the protesters] could run to the town here” and attempt to claim one of the new homes.⁹³ Another longtime Tema resident, Seth Laryea Tettey, recalled the emotions of the move. “So 1952, they prepared to settle the indigenes, our fathers and mothers, from that side [between the lagoons] to this side [Tema Manhean], and so finally in 1959, we were relocated here.” For a people who in his estimation had lived in the area for “four or five hundred years,” such a move was not an easy one. “When you go,” he exclaimed, “you want to come back.”⁹⁴ Meanwhile, priests and families undertook the complicated work of extricating the community from the land. This included attempts to identify graves, the undertaking of an elaborate ceremony presided over by the high priest of Sakum⊃ to dissolve the community’s “great oath not to move,” and the unveiling of additional ceremonies aimed at appeasing the gods of the lagoons as well as the ancestors and other spirits.⁹⁵

      NEGOTIATING MODERNIZATION