Joseph O. Cruickshank

Recently, my family and I had the pleasure of visiting Memphis, Tennessee. Memphis would not ordinarily have been my first choice for a vacation during the bleak winter months, but for reasons of time and distance, it became our vacation destination.
Since we were going to be in Memphis, we had to decide what we would do and see there. Lying on a sandy beach on a warm sunny day is my first preference for a vacation activity, but Memphis had neither a sandy beach nor was there a sun to be seen anywhere in these dying days of the North American winter. Under such circumstances, visits to museums appeared to be the only remaining viable option.
Fortunately, Memphis happens to be ideally situated close to the origins of the musical currents emanating from the old South of the United States in the 40s and 50s; close enough to be inspired by it, but not close enough to be turned off by the music’s racial and class origins. As such, it became the center of the musical revolution that we all now know as “Rock and Roll”. Elvis Presley made his home there and his Graceland Mansion is a tourist destination and an income earner for hundreds of Memphis residents.
Along with Graceland there is the Rock and Soul Museum where one could wonder for hours listening to some of the original recordings of the early Rock and Roll era. The clothes that the more famous performers wore are on display there along with their instruments and other historical artifacts.
It was during our visit to this museum that I started wondering why there is no such museum in Accra or Kumasi, Takoradi, Sunyani or Tamale dedicated to Ghanaian music. Why is it not possible on a rainy day in Accra to visit the Ghana Highlife Museum where one could spend the day listening to and reading about the history and inspiration for the old Black Beats hit “Lai Momo” for example? And would it not be nice to be in such a museum watching video clips of Ghanaians dancing during the Independence celebrations as E.T. Mensah played “Ghana Freedom” or of Kwame Nkrumah taking to the floor to dance with the Queen of England to the tune of “Queen Elizabeth we love you” when she visited Ghana? I am sure the old Ghana Information Service captured these scenes. And herein lies the problem. Even if these scenes were captured, as I am sure they were, and while it is possible that the Kwame Nkrumah tapes may have been preserved because of his stature, there are numerous other tapes and documents of historical significance to the Ghanaian people that are probably nowhere to be found. And even if they are still in existence, we appear not to value them enough as part of our cultural heritage as to put them on proper display to be shared with the generations of young people who were not around at the time. Where, for example, is the 1st post-independence Ghana Constitution on display for the average Ghanaian to see? Were the drafts of the original Ghana National Anthem composed by Mr. Gbeho saved? Indeed where is the final copy on display and if it is not on display, should it not be? Having it hidden in the Ghana National Archives (assuming it’s even there) does no good to the Elementary School child whose pride in Ghana might be elevated by the sight of this original document accompanied by a little write-up on the composer. In fact, how many Ghanaians know the name of the composer of the National Anthem? Indeed, who designed the Ghana flag and how come we know so little about him (or her)?
I first became aware of how our musical and cultural heritage is being lost irretrievably when I was living in Kumasi in the 70s. The Holy Child Past Students Association (HOPSA) was inaugurating the Kumasi branch and I was lucky enough to be a guest at the function. The very smart ladies decided to bring a “brass” band to perform as part of the ceremonies. I was too young during the brass band era of the 40s and early 50s to remember much about the music. I found myself mesmerized by the rawness and rhythmic dynamism of the music. The unlimited flow of akpeteshie to the band members clearly helped and I left the function that night wishing there was a place I could go to to continue with my education about this music. Sadly, there did not appear to be. The band left for the village they came from when the function was over and my developing interest in Brass Band music left with them.
This continuing lack of an interest in preserving and sharing our history and culture does not pertain only to music. I’d like to think there is a Hall of Fame at the stadium in Accra dedicated to our sports heroes. A Hall where a Ghanaian child could wonder around reading about the exploits of “Skipper” Gyamfi of the old Gold Coast national team. I recall to this day with extreme pride the front page of the Daily Graphic sometime in the late 50s when the then Gold Coast beat Nigeria 7-0 and the Daily Graphic tauntingly spelled out Nigeria with the numbers 1 to 7 on top of the letters “N-I-G-E-R-I-A”. What an emotional sight it would be to see the truck (or even a replica) of the truck in which the Real Republicans had the accident that led to the end of the football career of the mighty Baba Yara? Even worse than not remembering them, is how we treat our former heroes when their playing days are over. I can never forget seeing Salisu, formerly of Asante Kotoko, Real Republicans and of the Black Stars wondering about and begging at the Kumasi Sports Stadium when his playing days were over.
Perhaps one might be tempted to argue that all this was a long time ago when we were not yet a “mature” nation. In which case, the obvious question is how well we are doing now. Take for example, the Jerry Rawlings era. How many artifacts from that era are we saving or have saved and are on display in some museum? Regardless of what one may think of ex-President Rawlings, and I personally make no political judgments here, he is a historical figure in the transformation of Ghana into the democracy that we now have and are trying to preserve. I would argue, as an example, that the flight suit that Jerry wore during the early days of his revolution is an item of historical significance. It would certainly be among the collections of the Smithsonian Museum here in the U.S. if he was an American figure. Are we preserving it to use in the future as part of any exhibition of our political history? Do we even know where it is?
It has been said that those who forget their history are bound to repeat it. A prequel to this well-known saying might be “Those who do not preserve their history are bound to forget it.” It’s certainly terrible to repeat one’s history because one forgot it. It’s an even bigger tragedy to repeat one’s history because never having preserved it, one was never in a position to remember it. The reason the West has long assumed Africans have no significant history is because we did not record or save many items from our past. Let not future generations look back and ask why we, who should have known better, repeated this grievous mistake.