
Ghana is in the midst of a severe energy crisis. Rolling blackouts are a common occurrence, effectively shutting down large parts of urban centres with little warning. The government has long attempted to remedy this energy deficit, but it did not look possible until quite recently. The announcement of a number of massive industrial projects promises to catapult the country's economy to new heights, but this will not come without a significant cost to the people.
Mention of the Bui Gorge's hydroelectricity potential can be found in the colonial record as far back as the 1920s. Since the early days of Ghanaian independence from British colonial power, a plan for a large hydroelectric dam has been in the works.
During the 1960s, when much of West Africa was engaged with the Soviet Union, preliminary stages of construction were already well underway. The wooden structures built to house Soviet engineers and workers still stand today, remnants from before the project was abandoned due to political turmoil. They are one of many reminders of what could have been.
Nearly all maps produced in Ghana during the last few decades include a man-made Bui Lake that does not yet exist. The decision to include it on maps is likely the result of cost saving measures by a forward-looking government ministry at a time when the dam was previously under construction, but its decades long protraction resonates the rhetoric of the dam's founder. To remove it from the map would be foolish. It had long been established as destiny.
For Kwame Nkrumah, Ghana's independence president and leading Pan-Africanist, Bui Hydroelectric Dam was a largely symbolic project from its inception. Like Akosombo Dam to the south, it was to stand as a shining example of an industrial, independent Africa.
Human rights and environmental activists know the story of Akosombo: upwards of 80,000 displaced people and a flooded out area the size of Lebanon.
With the renewed efforts to build Bui Dam, made possible by a partnership with Chinese hydroelectric giant Sinohydro and a loan by the Chinese government, the homes of over 2500 people will be destroyed. Centuries of life, a richly storied environment, and present livelihoods will be flooded over.
However beneficial these developments will be for the nation as a whole, it is obvious that those both upstream and downstream face significant challenges. For those along the banks of the Black Volta River the general lack of transparency surrounding the dam's construction is a constant source of anxiety.
In the summer of 2009 none of the villagers knew anything that would reasonably prepare them for relocation. They did not know when and they did not know where they would be going. In the year since, government documents have confirmed one of their biggest fears. They will not be located near the river, a major part of their economic and spiritual landscape for centuries.
The new site will also house a number of the relocated villages including those that do not speak the same first language and are of different ethnic groups. While they are great friends and neighbours today, it would not be unreasonable for this to change. Hostile climates come about when social groups are thrown into an environment with limited resources.
The limitation of resources is already a serious problem. In farming villages awaiting relocation many fear they will run out of certain crops due to a government advisory. They were told to stop planting cassava, a staple in their diet, since they take two years to reach maturity. Bui Power Authority, the government corporation entrusted with running the dam and related relocation efforts, hoped they would have them moved before the previous harvest was exhausted. As of two summers ago the stocks were already running dangerously thin.
Many farms were already flooded by early phases of construction, further limiting the food supply. According to the Bui Power Authority website farm grants are now available for those whose farms are affected. This is the least they can do, especially considering the time it takes for the farmers to clear land and prepare the soil for new farms.
Whether or not the farmers have adequate English literacy skills to apply for these grants, a skill overlooked early in the relocation process, is another question entirely. The process to appeal their expulsion was not implemented fairly. In at least one village, also named Bui, the letter informing them of the appeal process arrived months past the final date for filing an appeal and was written in a language they could not read.
The amount of agricultural land will also diminish. Currently those in Bui Village capable of farming are each working anywhere from three to twelve acres of land. They were warned to expect much less, three to four acres per household, not per farmer.
The problems will be compounded as the people are forced to adjust to new models of property ownership. They will no longer have communal lands and will instead be given much smaller plots that they may be partitioned for future generations.
To counteract the new property regime and diminished land-base the government is actively encouraging farms to cease rotational farming practices and instead begin using expensive and potentially dangerous chemical fertilizers. Numerous citizens approached me with concerns over chemical fertilizers. Even those who were excited to modernize and improve their farming techniques were worried that concessions had not been made to educate them on safe usage.
Many younger generations will be left without property. When the relocation strategists came along they only planned to compensate the standing houses. Since there was a building ban in place for years many young people who had the resources to build their own home and start families were told they couldn't. Now they are left without a claim to property title at the new site. The difficulties a subsistence agrarian society will face when the youth no longer have land to grow food on are easy enough to imagine.
The government's relocation strategy is shaping up to be a disaster.
Other villages downstream from the dam are not being relocated and face their own unique problems. They confront increasing health issues caused by environmental contamination. The settlement of Gblakame is the first village downstream from the dam. Its citizens have been suffering from chronic diarrhea, dysentery, and other illnesses since the construction began. This is likely due to the poisoning of the water with industrial contaminants as well as raw sewage waste from immigrant labor camps at the dam site, a point confirmed by numerous dam workers.
Not only is this hurting the people on a direct level, it is also killing their main supply of food and income: fish. During my interviews, many in the Gblakame recalled an event in which the children of the village came back from playing in the river. They informed the adults in the community that hundreds of fish were floating on the surface. Phillip, a young man and father of six described the sensational events that followed:
"Because of the scarcity of the fish at the time the adults went down to the river with their boats. We went down to gather them. We hoped we'd at least find something we could use. When we were on the river picking up the fish from the surface the police arrived. They claimed that we were the people that poisoned the river as a way to illegally catch the fish. They said it was us and they took our canoes away. It was due to the poisoning that we no longer have our canoes. Yes, the river is not the same."
The people of Gblakame are just scraping by. Half of the community's canoes were confiscated in this confrontation with police and the cost of replacement for each canoe is nearly a year's salary. They live without access to clean water and face increasing economic difficulties.
This is a familiar story for the Ewe ethnic communities along the Black Volta River. Akosombo Dam pushed them from their villages in the 1960s. Both Gblakame and Akenyakope, were originally from the area inundated by this previous dam. The elders in both villages recalled the unpredictability of life near Akosombo:
"We were sleeping and all of a sudden, in the middle of the night, we woke to find water flowing into our houses. In a situation like that, let us say you wake up and you don't have the means and you don't know how to swim, you die with your family. My father told me that since this flooding began they started keeping their canoes in their houses so that if it happened all of a sudden and overcame you, you would pack what things you could with your family and you could go to the dry land. This all happened because we were not resettled and we did not have the means to resettle ourselves. We were forced to stay in our villages. Periodically the water would rise and take our houses. We know that we will face the same things in our days. Just like last time, nobody has come to discuss resettlement and we don't have the means or the money to resettle ourselves."
Little had been done to compensate those downstream. Simple consultations to ease their anxiety had not taken place. Their efforts to contact dam authorities had been neglected, even when concerning issues of water quality and the heath of their children. The son of a previous chief got together with other citizens to inform the dam authorities of their concerns after a number of children began falling ill.
"They just keep reiterating that it won't be a problem because we are downstream from the dam. But we have the experience. We know that at the end of the day, our village will be flooded too. We want them to give us clean drinking water and help us relocate in the higher lands, but nobody has come, nobody."
The eldest woman in the village fretted about the future with tears in her eyes. The village was once the jewel of the Black Volta. Now it is nearly deserted.
"You used to come here and see fish everywhere. People would come from all over. It was a market town. Now you are lucky to see a fresh fish."
Considering the past experience of those displaced by Akosombo and the poor treatment many have received with Bui, one is shocked to hear the hopeful attitudes of many in the region. While the unknown is a source of anxiety, change can also be exciting.
The potential material benefits that an industrial project like this can bring to a region are well understood by those being relocated. Hope comes in many forms, whether it be the dreams of a teenage girl who expressed her interest in meeting new boys as more workers come to the area, or the adults who dream of a better life for their children, a better life that includes access to schools, clinics, and electricity. However, mechanisms must be in place to insure those who are expected to suffer on behalf of the state receive compensation. Even the most thoughtful of plans are futile if poorly thought out.
The problem is not only whether enough is being done to compensate those affected, but also whether what is being done will actually be to their benefit. Plans to help the displaced may be sincere, but misguided. One can, for example, commend the Ghanaian government's strategy to install a massive irrigation system. Introducing this new way of farming may seem a huge leap forward and, indeed, one of the only ways to make such small plots of land viable. This style of farming also requires significant investment, maintenance, and technical skills. It seems more likely the new irrigation infrastructure will, as in the case of so many agricultural revolutions around the world, benefit large international food producers by pushing small farmers off the land. This has certainly been the case with many rice producers in southern regions of Ghana.
A billboard from a major bank reads 'Welcome to Bui City'. The promise of a future metropolis, dubbed the Dubai of West Africa, seems but a mirage. Other billboards in the empty plains advertise a futuristic skyline straight out of the cartoon, The Jetsons. Many in the region welcome these changes with open arms, but those without the skills to compete in the labour market are going to find themselves without the resources that have always provided ample wealth: the land and the river.
Compared to Akosombo Dam relatively few people are being affected. This has long been a selling feature of developers and government officials. It is all the more reason for the government to provide the relocated with adequate compensation. In the meantime people are getting sick, have little agency over their futures, and are becoming increasingly disillusioned with the dam that once promised them a better life.
"People might get jobs, people will enjoy electricity, and many other things, but these negative aspects are a burden on all of this."
Time will tell how long they can withstand that burden. Already youth are moving to the big cities, the elderly count down their days, and the hopeful wait cautiously for all that is beyond their control.