Across the globe, activists fighting for bodily autonomy and human rights are currently operating in a state of high alert. From the courts of the United States to the legislatures of Sub-Saharan Africa, a wave of intensifying backlash has forced many movements into a defensive crouch, reacting to new laws and threats in real-time with little breathing room for reflection.
But for Nana Darkoa Sekyiamah, a Ghanaian feminist writer and activist, the strategy for survival is not found in inventing new tools, but in reclaiming old ones. In her work and her new book, Seeking Sexual Freedom, Sekyiamah argues that the current struggle is not a beginning, but a continuation of a much older story—one that has been intentionally obscured by colonial legacies.
The central challenge for modern organizing, Sekyiamah suggests, is the tendency of the media and the state to flatten activism into a series of individual “wins” or isolated tragedies. By treating movements as subjects of coverage rather than sources of knowledge, the broader public misses the practical, ancestral intelligence that organizers use to navigate risk and build power.
The Philosophy of Sankofa: Learning as Reclamation
To understand how movements can draw strength from their own histories, Sekyiamah points to Sankofa, an Akan principle from Ghana. Translated loosely as “go back and get it,” Sankofa is the act of reaching into the past to inform the future. In the context of modern activism, this is more than a nostalgic exercise; it is an act of decolonial reclamation.
For Sekyiamah, the erasure of history is a political tool used to convince marginalized people that they have no precedent for resistance. By documenting their lives and building archives, activists create a “floor to stand on” rather than a void to fill. This prevents the exhaustion of constantly reinventing the wheel in every new generation of struggle.
This reclamation extends to the very way movements frame their existence. Sekyiamah describes the colonial project not as a permanent state of being, but as an “interruption.”
“If we view the colonial project as a permanent state, our organizing becomes defensive,” Sekyiamah explains. By reframing colonialism as a temporary interruption of an eons-long history of African agency and bodily autonomy, the goal shifts from merely protesting the state to reimagining an entirely different reality.
Recovering Lost Practices of Autonomy
The “interruption” of colonialism brought with it puritanical views on sex, gender, and the body that displaced more expansive indigenous practices. Sekyiamah’s research highlights how these lost traditions once provided the very education and autonomy that modern activists are now fighting to restore.
In Senegal, for example, the traditional practice of Xarxar involved griots leading chants before wedding ceremonies. These songs were explicitly designed to educate people about sex and desire before marriage. Today, these practices are often criticized as unIslamic or have been diluted into milder versions that occur only after marriage, stripping them of their original purpose as a tool for sexual literacy.
Similarly, Sekyiamah notes that many African Traditional Religions (ATRs) historically held space for complexities regarding gender and sexuality that were later branded as “demonic” by colonial-era Christianity and popular culture. Recognizing this history allows current movements to argue that inclusivity is not a “Western import,” but a return to indigenous roots.
Strategies for Organizing Under Risk
In regions where speaking openly about sexuality carries severe legal or social risks, Sekyiamah has observed a shift toward “deep community care.” This goes beyond political solidarity to include tangible support systems:
- Liberated Zones: The creation of safe, subversive spaces—such as sex-positive festivals in Ghana and Kenya—where individuals can express their truths without fear.
- Holistic Protection: Building networks that provide physical, legal, and digital security for those whose identities make them targets.
- Subversive Spaces: Utilizing “speakeasy” style gatherings to maintain community bonds away from the surveillance of the state.
Dismantling Artificial Borders
One of the most persistent legacies of the colonial “interruption” is the infrastructure that continues to divide African movements, most notably the language barrier between Anglophone and Francophone Africa. These artificial silos often prevent organizers from sharing tactics and resources across borders.
Sekyiamah recalls traveling from Ghana to Benin and being struck by the presence of the Ewe language across Ghana, Togo, and Benin. The linguistic continuity serves as a reminder that indigenous connections predate and will outlast the borders drawn during the Berlin Conference of 1884-85.
| Barrier | Colonial Origin | Movement Response |
|---|---|---|
| Language (English vs. French) | Administrative divide | Inter-regional feminist exchange |
| National Borders | Berlin Conference (1884) | Indigenous linguistic networks (e.g., Ewe) |
| Puritanical Legal Codes | Colonial moral legislation | Reclaiming ATRs and ancestral autonomy |
Finding the Cracks in the System
Despite the global backlash, Sekyiamah finds hope in “tangible wins” that prove the system is not monolithic. She points to the success of transgender people in Benin who have successfully navigated the state apparatus to change gender markers on national IDs. Such victories, she argues, are proof that even within systems designed for exclusion, there are cracks that can be widened.
The ability of movements to pivot—moving from street protests against finance bills in Kenya or galamsey (illegal mining) in Ghana to intimate, creative festivals—demonstrates a tireless creativity that defines modern African resistance.
As movements continue to face legislative pressures, the next critical checkpoint for many will be the ongoing legal challenges and advocacy efforts surrounding bodily autonomy laws across West Africa, where activists are increasingly using indigenous history to challenge colonial-era statutes.
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Disclaimer: This article discusses legal and human rights issues. It is provided for informational purposes and does not constitute legal advice.
