The Silence of Libation: Losing Ourselves in Foreign Prayers

At the solemn memorial service held at Independence Square in Accra on August 15, 2025 for the eight Ghanaian heroes who perished in the helicopter crash on 6 August, the nation bowed its head in grief. There were Christian and Islamic prayers. But there was no pouring of libation.

To some, this may seem a small matter in a moment of national sorrow. Yet its absence is telling. It reflects a deeper truth about the path we are walking as a people. Little by little, Ghana is abandoning its traditional spiritual practices in favour of foreign ones. And in doing so, we risk losing not only ritual, but something of ourselves.

The meaning of libation

Pouring libation is not mere ceremony. It is one of the oldest and most sacred practices in Ghana and across Africa. A calabash of water, palm wine, or schnapps is tipped gently onto the ground while words are spoken to our ancestors and the spirits of the land.

This act is prayer in its purest form. It acknowledges that we are not alone, that those who have gone before us remain present, guiding, watching, blessing. Libation ties us to the soil, to history, to one another. It is a reminder that Ghanaian identity is not only found in flags and anthems, but in the quiet voice of the ancestors called through ritual.

When libation is absent from national life, that voice falls silent. And when the ancestors are not invited to the table, our national ceremonies feel incomplete, rooted in borrowed prayers but detached from our own heritage.

The danger of abandoning tradition

The danger is not only religious, but cultural. When we treat Christian and Islamic prayers as the only legitimate forms of worship, we teach ourselves that African traditions are second-class. Our children grow up learning to be ashamed of their own culture.

This erosion of confidence is no small matter. Nations do not rise simply because they copy others. They rise because they stand tall in their own identity. A people who doubt their past cannot build a strong future. To abandon libation is, in a sense, to abandon part of our soul.

Cultures are never static. They adapt, evolve, and interact with others. But adaptation should not mean abandonment. Traditional religious practices must not be erased and replaced entirely by foreign ones. To do so is to uproot ourselves, leaving us adrift in a world where identity becomes confused and borrowed.

The example of China and Asia

China offers the clearest lesson. Its rise to global economic power is often explained in terms of factories, trade, and technology. But beneath all of that lies something deeper: cultural confidence. Even during modern reforms, China held on to its philosophies, festivals, and ancestral traditions. The Chinese did not feel they had to erase their past to embrace their future. Instead, they drew on it, telling themselves: We are Chinese, and we will grow on our own terms.

And China is not alone. In emerging economies such as India, South Korea, Malaysia, Vietnam, Indonesia, and Thailand, cultural traditions remain woven into their progress. India celebrates Diwali as passionately as it develops digital industries. The Japanese still honour the tea ceremony. Korea holds ancestral rites while building world-class technology. Vietnam honours its Tet New Year even as it expands its manufacturing base.

Even the capitalist West is not culture-free. Capitalism itself was shaped by Western values: the Protestant ethic of hard work, thrift, and discipline, civic rituals such as Thanksgiving in the United States, and the Judeo-Christian heritage of responsibility and individualism. These cultural values were not abandoned. They were carried forward, shaping the way economies and societies were built.

The lesson is clear: development is never divorced from culture. Nations that succeed do so not by throwing away their traditions, but by adapting them to new times. Africa, sadly, often chooses the opposite path, mistaking foreign imitation for progress, and gradually abandoning our own heritage.

The turning point under Atta Mills

The deliberate removal of libation from state functions can be traced to the administration of the late President John Evans Atta Mills. He was, by many accounts, a man of deep Christian faith, and under his leadership Christian and Islamic prayers became the sole religious symbols recognised at national gatherings.

Independence Day celebrations and other state events ceased to include libation. Some religious leaders even argued that libation was the cause of Ghana’s underdevelopment, and that by abandoning it the nation would prosper. Yet the economy’s struggles continued, showing that our traditions were never the obstacle.

The decision, however, carried lasting implications. It sent the message that African traditional religion was unworthy of state recognition. It pushed traditionalists to the margins of society, as if their way of worship was somehow less valid than others. This was not just a religious shift. It was a cultural wound.

The cost of silence

The cost of this silence is profound. It excludes citizens who hold to traditional beliefs, leaving them invisible at national ceremonies. It weakens the bonds of unity, for a nation that ignores part of its spiritual family cannot be whole. And it tells the world that Ghana is not proud of its own heritage, that we prefer to pray only with borrowed voices.

If Ghana is the body, libation is its heartbeat. Christian and Islamic prayers may be the breath, but breath without a heartbeat is not life. A nation without its spiritual roots risks becoming hollow, breathing yet weakened within.

A call to pour libation again

The way forward is not to pit one faith against another, but to embrace all that makes Ghana what it is. At our national events, let there be Christian prayers, Islamic prayers, and the pouring of libation side by side, each enriching the other. This would reflect the true spirit of Ghana: diverse, inclusive, rooted in tradition yet open to the world.

The stories of Asia remind us that cultures which stand firm do not get in the way of progress. They fuel it. Western capitalism itself was built on cultural values. Why then should Ghana throw away its own traditions in the name of modernity?

It is time to pour libation again. Not only water or wine upon the earth, but respect, memory, and pride in who we are. For when we call upon our ancestors, we do not look backwards in fear. We look forwards with strength. And in that strength lies the courage to build a future that is truly our own.

Dr Moses Deyegbe Kuvoame is an Associate Professor at the University of South-Eastern Norway. He is the founder and Executive Director of Centre for African Mental Health Promotion and Cultural Competence, an NGO based in Oslo.

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