THE CULTURE OF DUABƆ (IMPRECATION), LEGAL DYSFUNCTION
AND THE CHALLENGE OF HUMAN RIGHTS DEVELOPMENT IN
GHANA
Seth Tweneboah
Abstract
Debates over the challenges that plural legal orders pose to human rights development and
implementation in transitional societies have been inadequate in exploring the tensions and
opportunities that these conceptual categories generate. In Ghana, plural legal orders exist in
two major different forms, broadly categorised as formal (state) and informal (non-state)
laws. At the state level are the statutory laws, while the non-state laws include customary and
religious norms. A third, extra-legal system, which presents itself in the form of spiritual
vigilantism continues to present challenges to justice delivery in this society. In this paper, I
assess how formal legal ineffectiveness has been implicated in the perpetuation of spiritual
vigilantism within the multi-religious and plural legal society of Ghana. I do so by using the
Akan concept of duabɔ (imprecation) to demonstrate how lack of legal effectiveness
undercuts human rights implementation and development.
Introduction
Pre-colonial African societies had their own modes of resolving disputes and seeking justice
in society. These traditional ways of defining and delivering justice relied primarily on the
spiritual forces of nature that were held to exercise control over the activities of individuals as
well as society as a whole. Traditional modes were, however, altered as a result of
interactions with imported religious norms and legal systems. Numerous studies have
examined the impact of this transplantation of western religious and legal values onto legal
plural structures.1 One area that has received less attention is the resilience of traditional
modes of enlisting the spiritual agencies in mediating between disputants. For example, there
has been little consideration of the continuing function of practices such as duabɔ
(pronounced, dua-bor), or imprecation, in the daily routines of the people.
It is usually supposed that the English common law has supplanted indigenous modes of
justice delivery in post-colonial African societies. One result of the interactions between
imported religious and legal norms and indigenous values is the spate of ideological
confusion in society. People are torn between traditionalism and modernism,2 particularly
when it comes to seeking justice. As a traditional state loses its nature and authority, there is
still a considerable reliance on spiritual forces for arbitration of cases that would otherwise
have been peacefully mediated by formal legal systems. While the power of post-colonial
state agencies is strengthened, they have been accused of complicity and impunity. And
judicial corruption continues to impede justice delivery as many African people resort to mob
justice.3
This paper looks at the tensions between legal pluralism, legal dysfunction and human rights
implementation, especially when religious resources are invoked. I claim that: (i) the
encounter with imported religious and legal systems introduced an ambivalent plurality of
1
legal structures in society; (ii) the weaknesses of the judiciary and other law enforcement
bodies have intensified reliance on duabɔ; and (iii) duabɔ has implications for human rights
development and implementation. Drawing upon evidence from interviews and analysis of
recent high profile episodes in Ghana, I explore the relationship between spiritual vigilantism
and the weaknesses and other limitations of the formal legal system.
The Akan concept of duabɔ
A range of explanations has been offered concerning the etymology of the Akan term duabɔ.
Usually translated as “imprecation”, it is often assumed to come from two conjoined terms
bɔ,4 (hit) and dua, (wood, tree, club). The very circumlocution of this action (bɔ no dua, club
him/her) has its implication embedded in the action. To club one’s adversary is to kill, or
perpetually damage or weaken him or her. In the course of my research into this etymology,
one respondent suggested that, in the past, “the worst mishap for someone was when a tree
fell on them in the bush. So dua abu bɔ no [a tree has fallen on him or her] was the usual
thing to say an omen has occurred. This has gradually been corrupted into ordinary language,
where cursing someone means, you are ‘making a tree fall on him’”. The idea here is that the
imprecator wishes an evil omen on their target. According to the anthropologist, Peter
Sarpong, the term might have been derived by conjoining the words due [woe] and bɔ [hit,
play, knock]. That is to say, duabɔ literally means wishing that some form of woe [due]
betides one’s target, usually an enemy.5 Duabɔ then is finding oneself in a certain form of
misery or affliction.
Duabɔ indeed refers to the invocation of magical and supernatural powers aimed at inflicting
harm, or causing some form of misfortunes or adversities on a victim.6 It is one of the
numerous ways in which the indigenous societies of Ghana have sought for, and continue to
seek, justice and settlement of grievances in their day-to-day activities. As Kofi Agyekum has
said: “Akan duabɔ ‘imprecation’ normally arises out of enmity, breakdown of love, lack of
peace, conflict, anger, social avoidance, selfishness, attempt to eliminate a fellow, curse,
etc”.7 As such, he labels duabɔ as “grievance imprecation”.
The spiritual agencies involved in imprecation are known to be just and prompt in their
responses. Victims of imprecation are usually believed to suffer from many different spiritual
afflictions including inexplicable sickness – protruding stomachs, heart failure, swollen legs,
sudden seizures, mental diseases – loss of farm products and livestock, and any unnatural
death.8 The concept of duabɔ evokes quite terrifying memories among people. To most,
duabɔ represents a very important aspect of enlisting powers of the forces of nature in society
to prove one’s innocence and also seek justice. Belief in its potency, which usually has the
intention to harm or offend, is very pervasive among the Akan and many other societies of
Ghana.9
Given this general idea, I claim that duabɔ is inherently a form of spiritual vigilantism, of
people seeking vengeful supplication from the spiritual forces of nature in settling their
grievances in society. Spiritual vigilantism thus occurs when there is a grievance between an
aggrieved person (supplicant/imprecator) and his victim (the addressee).
Owing to its pervasiveness and perceived potency, R.S. Rattray reported in 1929 that among
the Akan it was a national taboo to invoke a curse on a sacral chief – to club the chief (bɔ
ohene dua).10 This particular type of imprecation was treated as a “grievous sin”, a national
taboo. The believed potency of this type of imprecation was such that even referring to the
2
crime was considered dangerous. Thus, accusations were couched in less threatening terms:
cursing a sacral chief was antithetically reported as “blessing the chief” (hyira ohene).11 The
punishment for the daring imprecator who “blesses the chief” was death by strangulation,
usually on the very spot where the action took place. Where and when the would-be regicide
employed the assistance of a local shrine or deity, the partner-in-crime priest of the shrine
suffered a similar fate [as the imprecator]. People condemned to death were prevented from
“blessing the chief”, or invoking any further curses. Rattray argued that it was for this reason
that, after their condemnation, the “criminal” was usually thrust with a traditional dagger
called sepow knife through the tongue and the cheeks.12
In recent times, though imprecation is still in vogue in the informal customary judicature, it is
one of the verbal taboos that the Akan society does not encourage. Agyekum opines that
owing to belief in its deterrent spiritual sanctions, society puts it in the category of verbal
taboos only used as a last resort for seeking justice or proof.13 Seen in this context, the recent
spate of duabɔ can be seen as not just a discursive device for expressing one’s belief in the
powers of the supernatural agencies, but also a way of communicating one’s mistrust in the
legitimacy of formal legal systems. Duabɔ, a traditional religious cultural practice, can thus
be seen as function of protest against the prevailing legal system. Indeed, early mission
Christianity and colonial administrators sought to legislate to prohibit this practice but with
little if any success.
The encounter
Scholars and popular authors have bemoaned the rate with which mission Christianity, for
example, reified indigenous customary beliefs and laws.14 Conflict, occasionally violent,
ensued between adherents of traditional religion and the native Christian converts over ways
in which ancestral customs were undermined by the latter. Critics observed that such tensions
could have been avoided had the missionaries taken their time to understand indigenous
customs. As Casely Hayford has argued, “a different state of things would prevail if the
missionary had first studied the Religious System of the Native”.15
In terms of legal norms, the transplantation of British colonial law, which began with the
introduction of formal colonisation of the Gold Coast (now Ghana) in 1874, also led to the
reification of native religious customs. While the colonial administration declared that these
native customs would be recognised, they were to be respected only when not “repugnant to
natural justice and morality”. One effect of such laws was that those indigenous customs and
practices that the colonialists found suspicious were suppressed through direct and indirect
legal means. A 1906 District Commissioner, for example, records:
At Gwoli on my way to Topari I had the amusing experience of unwittingly interrupting the fetish
priest and his satellites whilst occupied in making fetish to prevent my entering the village, this they
had been manufacturing for three days. … After holding up the fetish priest to ridicule, I told the
people he could no longer be allowed to act as chief, and told them to appoint another man.16
The District Commissioner, like most colonial officers, thought that by suppressing the use of
“fetish” and other retaliatory means of dispute resolution they would effectively replace them
with British ways of establishing proofs and settling disputes in society.17 Yet subsequent
reports indicated that imposition of imported forms of dispute resolution did not have the
effect that the colonial government desired. In 1907, Read reported that the belief in the
“fetish” [sic] was still prevalent throughout the country and “for any cause of disputes
whether relating to property, in every degree, family quarrels, sickness, connubial relations,
3
failure of crops and in fact everything that is not in the ordinary smooth course of events,
fetish is made”.18 By 1929, the colonial government admitted that these traditional means of
resolving conflict in society could not be eradicated for many years.19 This reflected the
failure of the colonial government in suppressing this type of native jurisprudence.20
Given the idea that indigenous beliefs and values have always resisted, and mostly prevailed
over, the superimposition of imported value systems, one would argue then that it is
presumptuous to suggest that judicial dysfunction is responsible for the perpetuation of duabɔ
in Ghana. It would also be fair to argue that, since there is no empirical data to back any such
claim, it is irresponsible to establish any meaningful link between judicial inefficiency and
spiritual vigilantism. Yet many previous scholarly discourses on the rise of new religious
movements have given us enough basis to argue that, in times of anomie, or when things do
not seem to properly function, reliance on supernatural forces for security also increases.21
Goody, for example, has charted correlations between social and economic disenchantment
and the rise of newer shrines in Ghana.22 He recounts that the period of proliferation of antiwitchcraft cults in Asante, for instance, also coincided with the growing incursions of the
British forces and legal system. This brought about an increase rather than a decrease in
personal security.23 Margaret Field’s Search for Security continues to provide relevant
insights into the discourse over the correlation between socioeconomic disenchantment and
the appeal to spiritual security. Field observes that although several reasons account for why
people visit the local shrines – to ease anxiety about not prospering, to return routine thanks
for the protection of the past year, to request for the favour to give birth, and so on – the most
frequent is for abisa (seek supplication, from bisa, ask or request) from the local shrines. This
includes the “the frustrated, unhappy, despairing man whose complaint was, ‘I am not
prospering’”.24
Legal dysfunction and spiritual vigilantism
Discussion on the relationship between the weaknesses in the legal system and spiritual
vigilantism takes as its starting point a series of reported and unreported cases of imprecation
involving all levels of Ghanaians. In a July 2007 article published in a national newspaper,
The Chronicle, and republished in other media outlets, a leading Ghanaian professor, Stephen
Kwaku Asare, argued that judicial inefficiency in Ghana was, among other factors, the root
cause of many forms of street justice, vigilantism, spiritual justice and other forms of
lawlessness in the country.25 He noted that the inability of the judiciary to effectively
discharge their duty in a timely and transparent manner led many citizens to having a high
loss of confidence in them (the judiciary). This, he argued, deprives the society of the peace
needed to engage in progressive activity. Some saw his criticism as not only well-timed, but
needed, especially at a time of growing popular resentment that the judiciary was now one of
the most corrupt institutions in the country.26
That argument, however, attracted a response from a legal professor, Richard Obeng Mensah,
asserting that Asare’s claim was hasty and lacked detailed analysis of the problem.27
Professor Mensah contended that his colleague had not treated the judiciary fairly in his
assessment, had chosen a prejudiced topic, and marred it with biased conclusions.
Like Professor Asare, many Ghanaians have raised concerns over excessive delays,
corruption, and other forms of weaknesses in the judiciary which all have negatively affected
the nation’s human rights standards and integrity of the judiciary in particular.28 Accordingly,
4
unless the state designs a timely, just, and reasonable mechanism for addressing this issue,
then citizens, left with no better option, are bound to fashion their own individual solutions
which are largely violent and limit the rights of their targets. Some of these solutions have
had to rely on spiritual forces for prompt and just results. This is a belief shared by different
categories of people in the country.
Former President, Jerry John Rawlings, is known to have openly asserted his preference for
the spiritual forces over formal legal systems. When he declined an invitation from his
immediate successor, John Agyekum Kuffour, to attend a prayer breakfast for the nation,
Rawlings accused Kuffour of hiding behind prayer meetings to conceal national problems.
He added that he would have honoured the invitation had he been invited to Antoa Nyamaa, a
much feared river deity of the Asante, because there one is assured of instant proof to an
accusation.29 Various meanings have been read into this response. While the ex-President
might have been expressing his displeasure about so-called excessive delays in the judiciary
at a time when the nation needed quick and prompt solutions to its problems, there was also
the concern that his appeal to spiritual justice was an attempt to evade the formal legal
system. On yet another occasion in 2008, Mr Rawlings reiterated his earlier call to seek
spiritual justice, rather than relying on the formal legal system.30 It must be admitted,
however, that Mr Rawlings has called in a number of forums for the modification of the
judiciary – an indication of his belief in the value of the formal justice system. On one such
occasion, he called on the Chief Justice for an invitation to help clean up the judiciary.31
One can only conjecture whether Mr Rawlings stands accused of failing to appreciate the
tedious functions of the judiciary or not. We might equally conclude that, as a former
President, he was guilty of breaking tradition by inciting the public to treat this noble
institution and its officials with contempt. Yet a report issued by the Ghana Integrity
Initiative (GII), and sponsored by the German Technical Corporation (GTZ) at the same time,
confirmed public suspicions of judiciary corruption in the country. The report revealed that a
majority of Ghanaians agreed that judicial corruption was real and not just a perception.32 A
2013 report conducted by Transparency International’s Global Corruption Barometer
revealed that 71% of respondents believed that the judiciary were among the most corrupt
institutions in Ghana. According to the report, 57% of the household surveyed admitted
paying a bribe to the judiciary, while 92% also felt the Police were the most corrupt
institution in the country. Similarly 79% also admitted paying a bribe to the Police.33
So pervasive is the culture of duabɔ that even some legislators have had resort to it in cases
where they believe the Supreme Court has failed to deliver remedies. Following a 29 August
2013 Supreme Court ruling on the 2012 electoral disputes, a national daily newspaper, the
Daily Guide, carried a story in which a former Member of Parliament asked his party to opt
for spiritual justice instead of relying on the Supreme Court the next time the party
encountered any electoral disputes. This is more so because he believed that the Supreme
Court could not ensure justice for the petitioners. “I don’t trust the Supreme Court anymore.
Next time, if I want justice, I will go to Antoa Nyamah instead of heading to the law
courts”,34 said the former legislator. Prior to this, a UK-based Ghanaian lawyer was reported
to have travelled to the shrine of the said deity, this to invoke curses on any of the judges who
accepted bribes in connection with the electoral dispute cited above.35
While these stories reveal instances of a pervasive phenomenon, some negative public
responses to the legal elites’ reactions reflect the general lack of analysis of the dominance
of the practice of spiritual justice.36 For many critics, imprecation cannot be justified
5
regardless of how disappointed anyone feels about the Supreme Court being unfair in its
dealings with issues of justice and legal interpretations. Once we put these cases aside and
reflect on the daily lived experiences of Ghanaians, it becomes obvious that imprecation,
as a spiritual justice mechanism, has become so normalised that it is entering not only
mainstream political discourse, but also threatens formal ways of viewing justice delivery.
We saw instances of this in the 10 August 2013 edition of a national daily newspaper,
Daily Graphic. Here the chief priest of the Asantehene, the Nsumankwaahene,37 was
reported to have warned politicians who refused to reverse curses imposed on their
political adversaries to be ready for the consequences.38
It has already been indicated that in the discourse of duabɔ, its popular interpretation as a
well-integrated bounded practice among the people may lead many to overlook the way
socioeconomic, political and other forms of marginalisation have led people to form a
formidable reliance on indigenous cultural and spiritual worldviews. The popular notion, that
the culture of duabɔ represents what some might call an archaic employment of justice
delivery, needs reflection. Such beliefs, however, ignore the links between a perpetuation of
the practice and legal dysfunction, among others, as the current cause of its perpetuation.
Duabɔ culture is not only a religious customary way of seeking justice in traditional
Ghanaian society, but reflects the systemic failures and lack of trust in state institutions. For
example, when the ex-Black Star footballers realised that the Presidential promise to reward
them for their performance at the African Cup of Nations had little hope of being fulfilled,
they threatened to invoke curses on the national team.39 Many Ghanaians welcomed this
threat as the most effective means of the ex-footballers getting their due. Yet the footballers
did not have any legal recourse. What they encountered was rather a legal limitation, that is,
although they had a moral claim of right, they lacked grounds for a legal one. To be sure,
duabɔ as a culture does not occur when an aggrieved imprecator invokes the powers of a
deity, or a bystander encourages it; its pervasive occurrence occurs when, as a people,
Ghanaians entrench the notion that the most effective form of justice delivery in society is to
enlist powers of spiritual forces. The seriousness of this is the human rights implications for
the individual.
Duabɔ and human rights
The spate of both mob justice and spiritual vigilantism in Ghanaian societies raises issues of
concern for human rights development and implementation. The issue of public imprecation
has attracted attention and interest given its potential to strengthen extra-judicial justice
delivery, and thus contribute to wanton violations of innocent people’s rights. Article 19(6) of
the 1992 Constitution states that: “No penalty shall be imposed for a criminal offence that is
severer in degree or description than the maximum penalty that could have been imposed for
that offence at the time when it was committed”. This constitutional right is disregarded once
duabɔ becomes an option.
Contrary to a popular notion that spiritual justice is prompt and easily accessible to everyone,
it is problematic because it undermines the authority of the courts, and frustrates society’s
democratic values and human rights protections. Once the confidence in the state-mandated
courts to prosecute cases is lost and alternative justice is found elsewhere in ways that cast
doubt on the legal system, the human rights of the individual cannot be assured. Similar
concerns have previously been raised by legal experts, even in societies where practices such
as traditional oath-swearing existed alongside the English law.40
6
Legal theorists and universal human rights norms have called into question the contemporary
relevance of such practices. In Nigeria, for example, the validity of traditional oath-swearing
became a subject of protracted debate between legal experts. In a well-referenced case,
Marcus Nwoke and Ors v Ahiwe Okere and Ors, a Supreme Court judge, Justice Kutigi,
argued on appeal that the use of the juju method (in reference to oath-swearing) was laudable
in terms of its time saving, financial, and other logistical cost-effectiveness. But it was
fraught with other disadvantages. He observed, for instance, that one cannot put juju in the
witness box for any purpose.41 Besides, he claimed, the activities, methods and procedure of
oath-swearing belonged to the jurisdiction of the unknown, even though its effects may be
eventually visible or experienced.42 Similarly, in resorting to duabɔ, unlike the formal courts,
judgements or decisions of the deity involved are not subject to challenge or appeal. That is
to say, there is no guarantee of fair trial in matters of spiritual justice.
Article 41(d) of the 1992 Constitution calls on all Ghanaians “to respect the rights, freedoms
and legitimate interests of others, and generally to refrain from doing acts detrimental to the
welfare of other persons”. Even for those unaware of this secular notion of human rights,
some have argued that the religious, cultural convictions and worldviews of the people
provide them with a traditional understanding of human rights and dignity.43 Most Ghanaians
appeal to human rights by invoking their religious convictions and values rather than through
formal legal norms. Religious and cultural resources, Abamfo Atiemo argues, are “the
validating foundations for human rights” in Ghanaian society.44 Lack of awareness of basic
rights does not then appear to be the mono-causal agent responsible for resorting to street
forms of justice delivery in the society. As Professor Asare’s argument previously referred to
suggests, we can claim that most people who readily call for vigilantism are not oblivious to
the human rights of their victims. Frustration, delays, disappointment and lack of confidence
in the judiciary, and the legal system in general, have all played a part in problematising this
issue. Hence the need for the judiciary to redeem its image.
Indeed, the culture of duabɔ in Ghana raises concerns about the need to strengthen reforms in
the legal and judiciary system. While the judiciary has been quite proactive in salvaging its
image, negative public perceptions continue to persist. This has been one of the many
inhibiting factors preventing people from seeking redress through the civil courts. Despite
these challenges, the indispensability of the judiciary in the struggle for human rights
development and the strengthening of democracy cannot be belittled. For this reason, and in
addition to its internal reforms, intensive public education aimed at bolstering public
confidence must be taken seriously.
Yet there are psychological and physical constraints that inhibit people from seeking formal
justice delivery. Quite simply, and as discussed earlier, people are discouraged from enlisting
the services of the formal courts because they believe that there is no hope of getting justice.
This belief is held not only by the poor and less privileged in society, but by the educated and
those who can afford to engage legal services. In June 2012, a constitutional expert and
lecturer, and also the then Executive Secretary of the Constitutional Review Commission,
publicly claimed that the judiciary in Ghana was indeed the most corrupt institution in the
nation.45 He, like others referred to, believed that the grounds for this allegation comprise a
major threat to Ghana’s democracy. This assertion is certainly serious, not only because it
addresses a taboo subject that most people feel uncomfortable discussing openly, but because
those who make such claims openly do so at considerable personal risk.46 For instance, the
legal expert immediately referred to indicated that his initial comments on this issue led to his
own colleagues in the legal profession nearly lynching him.
7
There is also a conviction that implicating the judiciary will serve no purpose, as they are the
victims and arbiters at the same time. Therefore when the legal expert accused an Accrabased private FM station for what he termed “dangerously editing” his comments to twist his
message, he argued that he decided to take no legal action. This was because it “would be a
waste of money since we all know the truth that there is corruption in the judiciary. And so, if
against your own intentions that fact is made public, and it is the truth, you don’t oppose it”.47
Underlying this statement are two assumptions. The first is an explicit conclusion drawn from
this statement, which is that a corrupt judiciary cannot preside over corruption or any charge
against another person. Therefore even when the judiciary is accused, this is the very same
institution taking charge of that allegation. Challenging it, as some observers have put it, is
like inflicting blows on oneself.48
The second assumption is that, for many people, since the outcome of their cases will not lead
to anywhere in the civil courts, the court of spiritual opinion becomes an option. In January
2014, for instance, a former Minister of Sports challenged the ex-President, Kuffour, to meet
him at the shrine of the river god, Antoa Nyamaa, to determine the authenticity of a financial
loss allegation that sent him, the ex-Minister, to jail during the Kuffour administration.
According to the ex-Minister, the said crime was manufactured by the ex-President and some
members within the ruling party. This, he claims, was meant to isolate him, a non-member of
the ruling party, as a scapegoat in the symbolic fight against corruption at the time. What this
meant is that although the matter was decided by the court, and although the ex-Minister was
aware of other legal options available to him since he believed he had not been previously
treated properly by the legal system, he preferred that the former President met him at the
shrine. This was so both could invoke the powers of the deities to adjudicate the matter.
To be sure, in the absence of effective judicial system and fair trial, the belief in and the fear
of the swift sanctions of the spiritual agencies of society have been one of the many ways that
have prevented people from registering human rights violations. According to the exMinister: “If President Kufuor says I am the one who stole the money, I’m a Muslim, he is a
Christian, let’s go to Antoa Nyamaa and swear, and after one week we will see who will
die”.49 These are indications as to the resilience of traditional religious modes of seeking
justice in a society supplanted by European-derived legal norms.
The challenge for the interactions between state and non-state legal norms is that the social
structure of the Ghanaian societies is such that those who seek redress in formal courts are
often seen as litigants standing apart from society.50 But even then, within these societies,
there are alternative dispute resolution mechanisms of seeking justice still recognised by the
state. In addition to this, religious and cultural constraints, the high cost of accessing formal
justice, and the inaccessibility of the formal courts, make it frustrating for people to travel to
and from their villages to cities only to seek justice which they often presume may be denied
them. It is for this reason that strengthening alternative resolution mechanisms system stands
a better chance of allowing people access to traditional (informal) forms of justice rather than
resorting to spiritual justice, many of which usually lead to death and other kinds of abuses.
Conclusion
Attempts by European Christian and colonial officers to undermine religious cultural forms
of justice delivery systems in African traditional societies were resisted. Efforts by postcolonial leaders to establish imported mechanisms of justice delivery have similarly been
8
thwarted by barriers to the agencies mandated to do so. Judicial weaknesses, in particular,
have been implicated as leading to extra-legal actions in society, including spiritual
vigilantism. This paper has observed that African religious customary beliefs are a force to
reckon with regarding justice delivery. Yet a well-functioning and accessible judiciary, with
effective transparency and accountability, can reduce the spiritual vigilantism associated with
these religious cultural modes of seeking justice in society. The narratives, contextual or
otherwise, that this paper has only begun to expose nevertheless reveal a major problem
confronting the legal system in Ghana. Further investigation is needed by those interested in
the important interactions occurring between law, human rights and religion in the postcolonial societies of Africa.
Endnotes
1
W.C. Ekow Daniels, The Common Laws in West Africa. London: Butterworth & Co. Ltd, 1964; Anthony
Allott, Essays in African Law with Special Reference to the Law of Ghana. London: Butterworth & Co., 1960.
2
Kwame Gyekye, Tradition and Modernity: Philosophical Reflections on the African Experience (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1997); John S. Mbiti, African Religions and Philosophy, 2nd Ed. (Gaborone:
Heinemann Education Botswana Publishers, 1989), 214.
3
Human Rights Watch, Mob Justice in Burundi: Official Complicity and Impunity (New York: Human Rights
Watch, March 2010),
www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/reports/burundi0310webwcover.pdf.
4
The term originally has several meanings including break (a glass), play (a ball), hammer (a nail) and crash (a
nut, car). Like most words in several languages, contextual understanding becomes a necessary tool here.
5
Personal interview with Archbishop Peter Sarpong at his residence in Kumasi on 24th March 2015.
6
Kofi Agyekum, “The Pragmatics of Duabɔ ‘Grievance Imprecation’ Taboo Among the Akan,” Pragmatics
9,No. 3 (1999): 357-82.
7
Ibid, 358.
8
Jack Goody, Fields of Social Control Among the LoDagaba, The Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 87, No. 1 (1957): 75-104.
9
R.S. Rattray, Ashanti Law and Constitution (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1929), 311.
10
Traditionally the chief is regarded as a representative of the ancestors. He sits on a stool sat on by his
ancestors making him a sacred person. See K.A. Busia, The Position of the Chief in the Modern Political System
of Ashanti: A Study of the Influence of Contemporary Social Changes on Ashanti Political Institutions (London:
Frank Cass and Co., Ltd, 1968).
11
Rattray, Ashanti Law and Constitution, 311.
12
Ibid, 312.
13
Agyekum, The Pragmatics of Duabɔ.
14
J.E Casely. Hayford, Gold Coast Native Institutions: With Thoughts Upon a Healthy Imperial Policy for the
Gold Coast and Ashanti (London: Frank Cass and Co. Ltd, 1970), 105.
15
Ibid, 105.
16
District Commissioner, Black Volta District, 1906 quoted in Sean Hawkins, Writing and Colonialism in
Northern Ghana: The Encounter Between the LoDagaa and “The World on Paper", 1892-1991 (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press Inc., 2002), 165.
17
Hawkins, Writing and Colonialism in Northern Ghana, 166.
18
Captain Read, Essay on the Peoples of North West Province, RAT ADM 430, PC NWP, 1907.
19
Annual Report Lawra District, RAT ADM 168, 1928-29.
20
Hawkins, Writing and Colonialism in Northern Ghana, 175.
21
Barbara E. Ward, Some Observations on Religious Cults in Ashanti, Africa: Journal of the International
African Institute 26, No. 1 (January 1956): 47-61.
22
Jack R. Goody, Anomie in Ashanti?, Africa 27, No. 4 (1957): 356-363.
23
Ibid, 362.
24
M.J. Field, Search for Security: An Ethno-Psychiatric Study of Rural Ghana (London: Faber and Faber,
1960), 17, 107.
25
Prof. Kwaku S. Asare, Can Judicial Inefficiency Lead to Mob Justice, Vigilantism and Spiritual Justice?, The
Ghanaian Chronicle, 11 July 2007.
9
26
Dominic Ayine, Report on Judiciary Corruption Monitoring Exercise in Ghana (Accra: Ghana Integrity
Initiative, August 2007).
27
Mensah Richard Obeng, RE: Can Judicial Inefficiency Lead to Mob Justice?, The Ghanaian Chronicle, 19
July 2007.
28
Ayine, Report on Judiciary Corruption Monitoring Exercise in Ghana.
29
Rawlings to Consult ‘Antoa Nyamaa’ Again?, The Ghanaian Chronicle, 14 September 2004.
30
Rawlings Goes Antoa, Daily Guide, 23 October 2008.
31
See A.R. Gomda, I Can Clean the Judiciary, Daily Guide, 14 October 2013.
32
Ayine, Report on Judiciary Corruption Monitoring Exercise in Ghana, 5.
33
Mabel Akua Baneseh, “Bribery Scandal Rocks Judiciary” Daily Graphic, 14 September 2015; Transparency
International, Ghana. Retrieved from
www.transparency.org/gcb2013/country?country=ghana.
34
I.F. Joe Awuah Jr, Go to Antoa for Justice – Kofi Jumah to NPP, Daily Guide, 24 September 2013. Retrieved
from www.dailyguideghana.com/?p=96304.
35
Rockson Adofo, Could Judges Taking Bribes Be Punished by Invoked Deities?, Feature Article,
Modernghana.com, 21 July 2013. Retrieved from
www.modernghana.com/news/476504/1/could-judges-taking-bribes-be-punished-by-invoked-.html.
36
See Some of the Public Reactions on the Comments Section of the Online Report: NPP Should Have Gone to
Antoa Instead of Court – Kofi Jumah, Ghanaweb.com, 20 September 2013. Retrieved from
www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=286392.
37
The chief priest (Nsumankwaahene,) is the chief physician responsible for spiritual matters of the palace of
the king of the Asante (Asantehene) and the traditional state. He is responsible for overturning and also
sanctioning people who invoke curses in the state.
38
Asare Boadu, Antoa Nyamaa to Strike at Recalcitrant Politicians, Daily Graphic, 10 August 2013.
39
Ex Ghana Players Threaten to Invoke Curses on Black Stars over Delayed Fulfillment of Presidential Pledge,
Ghanaweb.com, 22 July 2014. Retrieved from
www.modernghana.com/news/557882/2/ex-ghana-players-threaten-to-invoke-curses-on-blac.html.
40
Abdulmumini A Oba, Juju Oaths in Customary Law Arbitration and their Legal Validity in Nigerian Courts,
Journal of African Law 52, No. 1 (2008): 139-158.
41
Originally quoted in [1994] 5 Nigerian Weekly Law Report (pt 343) 159 at 172-73. See Oba, Juju Oaths in
Customary Law Arbitration, 147.
42
[1994] 5 NWLR (pt 343) 159 at 172-73.
43
Abamfo Ofori Atiemo, Religion and Inculturation of Human Rights in Ghana (New York: Bloomsbury, 2013)
3.
44
Ibid, 3.
45
Jasmine Arku, ‘Judiciary is Ghana's Most Corrupt Institution – Dr Atuguba Tells Rashida’, 6 June 2012.
Retrieved from www.etvghana.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=2123:judiciary-iscorrupt-atuguba-reiterates&catid=96:etvgh-blog-news&Itemid=484.
46
Stephen Odoi Larbi, ‘Anas has Done Nothing Wrong to be Granted Immunity – Obiri Boahene’, 9
September 2015. Retrieved from
www.kasapafmonline.com/anas-has-done-no-wrong-to-be-granted-immunity-obiri-boahene/.
47
Arku, ‘Judiciary is Ghana’s Most Corrupt Institution’.
48
Ayine, Report on Judiciary Corruption Monitoring Exercise in Ghana, 1.
49
Frank Agyei-Twum, ‘Mallam Issah Dares Kufuor: Meet Me at Antoa if You Are a Man’, 14 January 2014.
Retrieved from
www.myjoyonline.com/politics/2014/january-14th/mallam-issah-dares-kufuor-meet-me-at-antoa-if-you-are-aman.php.
50
Abamfo O. Atiemo, Punish My Husband But Not so Hard: Religion, Customary Values and Conventional
Approaches to Human Rights in Ghana, Religion and Human Rights 7, No. 2 (2012): 71-93. See also Victor S.
Gedzi, Principles and Practices of Dispute Resolution in Ghana: Ewe and Akan Procedures on Female
Inheritance and Property Rights (unpublished: Doctoral dissertation, International Institute of Social Studies of
Erasmus University of Rotterdam, 2009), 134.
10