Sankofaonline News Desk — Contributors: Cornelius Nancy Ackumey and Paul Adevor
A growing wave of concern is rising among cultural observers as the once distinct visual identities of Ghana’s traditional leaders begin to blur. Elders recall a time when the regalia of the Awoamefia and other Ewe chiefs stood unmistakably apart from that of the Asantehene and Akan chiefs. Each chieftaincy expressed its heritage through unique textiles, beads, and symbolism, living archives of history worn with dignity and purpose.
That clarity is now fading. Increasingly, chiefs and queens from various ethnic groups appear in the same visually striking Akan‑style Kente, overshadowing the traditional fabrics and adornments that once defined their lineage. What was once a vibrant mosaic of cultural expression is slowly becoming a homogenized aesthetic shaped by competition, spectacle, and the pressures of modern ceremonial display.
Some observers raise an important question: while many refer to the newer Akan Kente as “high‑tech,” is it not also handwoven? Indeed, much of the Ashanti kente remains handwoven, however , on the market are enhanced modern technology and color innovations too. The issue, critics argue, is not the craftsmanship of Ashanti textiles but the growing tendency of other ethnic groups to abandon their own heritage in favor of what appears more glamorous or widely celebrated.
This concern is especially pronounced among the Anlo ,broader Ewe and GaDangme communities . Traditionally, Ewe chiefs wore regalia rooted in subtle elegance, rich beads, Kete ,symbolic cloths, and the distinctive jumper that set them apart. Gold ornamentation was minimal, used sparingly and meaningfully. Today, however, some Ewe and Anlo chiefs have begun dressing in the heavy gold‑laden style associated with Akan chiefs, competing in displays of wealth that were never part of their cultural identity. Cultural advocates note that only a few chiefs have taken this path, and they praise the many Anlo and Ewe chiefs who continue to maintain their unique, beautiful jumper and bead‑centered regalia.
In sharp contrast, the Northern Kingdoms remain steadfast. Across Dagbon, Mamprugu, Nanung, and other Northern States chiefs still appear in their traditional Smocks, Skins, and centuries‑old regalia, unchanged, unbent, and proudly displayed at every public gathering. Their consistency stands as a quiet but powerful reminder that cultural identity can be preserved even in a rapidly modernizing nation.
One figure often cited in this broader diaspora conversation is Nii Lante Okunka Blebodzan, the late GaDangme Mantse of Chicago. Known for his unwavering commitment to Ga tradition, he refused to wear anything outside the attire of a traditional Ga Mantse. His decision not to participate in a kente showcase at Chicago’s Field Museum, despite participation fees offered to all chiefs, remains a striking example of cultural fidelity. For him, traditional identity was not a costume but a sacred responsibility.
In the diasporas , what began as a harmless ceremonial showcase , has evolved into a competitive display of culture, where visual appeal often outweighs historical accuracy. Critics warn that this trend risks erasing the distinctiveness of Ghana’s many ethnic traditions, replacing them with hegemony that favors popularity over heritage.
The conversation extends beyond symbolism to the textiles themselves. Authentic Ewe Kete, handwoven, thicker, and deeply rooted in the weaving traditions of Agortime‑Kpetoe and the Volta coastal belt, faces growing competition from modern, machine‑assisted Kente. While the newer fabrics are undeniably eye‑catching, many cultural custodians insist that the original Kete carries a depth, weight, and identity that technology cannot replicate.
Some cultural advocates propose a renewed branding effort: restoring the correct name Kete, embedding Ewe symbols into the designs, and educating the public about the weaving process that gave the fabric its name. Preservation, they argue, begins with calling things by their true names and honoring the craftsmanship behind them.
Traditional authorities, they add, must play a more active role, educating chiefs, reinforcing cultural protocols, and guiding younger leaders who may be tempted to follow trends rather than uphold heritage.
As Ghana’s cultural landscape evolves, the debate continues: How does a nation embrace modernity without sacrificing the authenticity of its traditions? And who bears the responsibility for safeguarding the visual languages that define its people?
For now, the call is clear reflection, education, and a renewed commitment to the heritage that shaped generations.
