Becamela's Curse

West Africa Trip Report #1

It was well into the afternoon when Becamela finished up hoeing in her field and started down the dusty path back toward her village.  The hot sun of northern Ghana had been merciless during the past hours, so she looked forward to a refreshing drink and the relative coolness of her grass-roof hut.  But as she approached the outskirts of her small village, she noticed people acting strangely. Conversations stopped, eyes starred as she passed, children scurried away to hide in nearby bushes. What was wrong?

When she reached her own home, she was startled to find members of her extended family seated in a circle, faces drawn and sober. “What is it? What’s going on?” Becamela asked, worry filling her words.

“Of all people, you should know!” her brother-in-law declared with an accusing voice. “You tell us why such a thing has happened—why you would allow such a thing to happen!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. “Somebody please tell me what this is all about?”

It was her sister who broke the silence. “He’s dead, Becamela,” she sobbed. “My precious twelve year-old son died of burning fever less than an hour ago.”

Becamela was stunned. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sister. So the malaria he had been fighting for so many days finally took his life. That sickness is such a curse to our people.”

Her brother-in-law jumped to his feet. “It certainly is a curse all right and I know where it came from. It came from YOU!  It had to be you and your powers of black magic that brought that sickness to our son. There is no other explanation.  I accuse you of being a witch!”

Fingers of fear gripped and squeezed Becamela’s throat and for a moment she was unable to speak, knowing full well the implications of such an accusation. Finally she blurted out, “NO! I had nothing to do with my nephew’s death.  It was the malaria that killed him. How can you possibly imagine that I would do anything to harm a member of my own family?” But her words fell on deaf ears and before she could protest further, a crowd gathered with sticks and ropes and began beating her wickedly. Hands grabbed her clothing ripping it off leaving her naked as the beating continued. Someone upgraded their whip to a broken bicycle chain that left open, bleeding wounds every time it landed on her back and chest. As if that was not enough, pepper was then sprinkled on her open sores and even her eyes. In excruciating pain, Becamela was then physically dragged to the outskirts of the village, dumped on the ground and harshly proclaimed banned from returning or living there ever again.

  

I put down my pen and notebook and looked across the table at the weathered face of the woman who was telling us her story.  For the past half hour, Anita and I had been listening to this first-hand account from one of the famous, but falsely-accused “witches” of Ghana. On the first leg of a trip to visit ministry partners in West Africa, our initial event was a national conference to promote the end of “witches camps” in this country. Co-hosted by Emmanuel Dabson, director of the Church Outreach Fellowship, we were taking a break from listening to key speakers to get a few more private minutes with Becamela herself. Accompanied by a local pastor who discovered the witch camp, this was Becamela’s first ever visit to a big city – with paved roads, multi-story buildings and electric street lights. Although dignitaries at the conference included the Deputy Minister of Women and Children’s Affairs and the assistant Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, it was Becamela, who was truly the guest of honor.

Anita and Becamela at the national conference
on "Witches Camps"

As our interview continued, we learned that after that fateful day of being expelled from her village, she went first to her father’s home, who quickly expelled her as well, not wanting any evil influences lurking around from someone accused of being a witch. So she was relegated to living in a small settlement called Nabali with some 100 other old women similarly accused of witchcraft. There, she had eked out a meager existence for more than 17 years. Then one day, Jacob, a young 30-year old COF church planter, discovered the old women living alone and began inviting them to his new church. As a result, Nabali is now well known, not only to Ghanaian government authorities, but to several short term mission teams from Spokane, WA and elsewhere that Partners International has invited to the area.

The deep creases across Becamela’s face belie a life of pain – both physical and emotional. But what was amazing to all of us listening to her story was to see that face break out into a huge smile as she told us about the difference it has made giving her heart to Christ. Now she and 99% of the “witch camp” women attend Jacob’s church every week. “I have not missed a single Sunday,” she told us proudly. “And because I sense the love of God and of others there, I no longer feel the shame of being around other people.”

We hope the increased exposure this national conference will bring about the plight of “witches camps” in Ghana will start positive change and restoration to the hundreds of women falsely accused and thus abused in this country. But, without doubt, it is only God who will bring about the inner healing that can truly bring about a smile on face of someone with a story like Becamela’s.

Under His wings,   Jon 

(Thanks to Caleb Nokes for some of his pictures of Becamela. Check out his own blog and especially the video he made on Becamela at www.calebnokes.com.)