After years in exile, women once branded as witches are finding their way home. But as Ghana’s Parliament delays a law to end witchcraft accusations, the fragile hope of freedom and safety still hangs in the balance.
Once labelled a witch and forced into exile, Adamu Mahama has finally returned home. After years in the Kukuo camp, she has been reintegrated into her community- a move human rights advocate, Shani Abdul Kasiru, describes as a milestone in the fight against stigma and abuse.
When Adamu stood at the edge of her home in Bimbilla, sunlight spilling across her modest compound, it was more than just another morning. It was a moment of triumph, a defiance of the torment, isolation, and pain she endured after being accused of witchcraft by her own community.
Now 68, Adamu is no longer the broken woman banished years ago after a tragic accident claimed her son and another young man. ‘They said I caused it – that I used witchcraft to kill them,’ she recalls softly. ‘But I forgive them. I just want to live in peace.’
Her story mirrors that of hundreds of women across Northern Ghana, mostly elderly, widowed, and vulnerable, who face accusations rooted in superstition, fear, and misogyny. Some, like Madam Akua Denteh of Kafaba, never made it to a camp. She was lynched in 2020, her cries for mercy silenced by the fists and stones of her accusers.
Until Ghana develops a legal framework to protect these women, such baseless accusations will continue to rob innocent women of their dignity and safety.
The History and Decline of Ghana’s Witch Camps
For decades, Northern Ghana has hosted camps that served as refuge for women accused of witchcraft – some existing for over a century. Although Civil Society Organisations (CSO) and government efforts since 2012 have led to the closure of several camps, hundreds of women remain confined, still awaiting justice and reintegration.
As of 2012, Ghana had at least six alleged ‘witch camps’ accommodating an estimated 1,000 women. These camps are located in Bonyasi, Naabuli, Gnani, Kpatinga, Kukuo, and Gambaga, all in Northern Ghana, offering shelter to women banished from their communities
In the same year, the government of Ghana announced plans to close down all witch camps and intensify public education to dispel the belief in witchcraft. Two years later, then Minister for Gender, Children and Social Protection, Nana Oye Lithur, through ActionAid and Songtaba led the disbandment of the Bonyasi camp in the Central Gonja District, successfully reintegrating its residents back into their communities.
By 2015, another camp, the Naabuli Camp, had been shut down. Currently, four camps still remain-Gambaga, Kukuo, Gnani, and Kpatinga-collectively housing more than 500 people; most of them elderly women seeking safety after being accused of witchcraft.
Despite sustained reintegration efforts, led by Songtaba and ActionAid over the years, over 300 women are currently in camps due to witchcraft accusations.
A System Built on Silence and Fear
Through advocacy, negotiation, and persistence by civil society organisations, Adamu returned home to Bimbilla.
‘Witchcraft accusations are a human rights crisis,’ says Hajia Lamnatu Adam, Executive Director of Songtaba. ‘These are women who have lost everything – their families, their dignity, their freedom – simply because they were accused without proof.’
Some of the accusations that drive vulnerable women into witch camps include, but are not limited to, allegations of causing the death of others, bringing misfortune or illness upon community members, or even being seen in another person’s dreams.
In such cases, it often takes the intervention of traditional shrines and their custodians, known as Tindanas (soothsayers), to determine a woman’s innocence or otherwise.
Hajia Lamnatu Adam explained that while the camps may offer safety, they are not a long-term solution. ‘They are open-air prisons. The women live in poor conditions, isolated and forgotten. It’s a form of institutionalised violence.’
Adamu’s five-year stay in Kukuo was marked by loneliness and shame. ‘I didn’t think I would ever come back,’ she admits. Through sustained mediation, community sensitisation, and support from Songtaba and ActionAid, her village finally agreed to receive her. Today, she lives in a two-room home built by donors – a symbol of resilience and hope.
A two-bedroom House as part of the reintegration programme.
Hope in Law: The Push for Legislation
Following years of advocacy, a Private Member’s Bill (a legislative bill that is introduced by a private Member of Parliament, not part of a government’s planned legislation) to criminalise witchcraft accusations is now under review in Parliament.
A recent visit by the Parliamentary Select Committee on Human Rights to various camps has renewed optimism that legal reform may soon become a reality.
‘We are hopeful,’ says Eugenia Ayishetu Ayagiba, Women’s Rights and Campaigns Manager at ActionAid Ghana. ‘Parliament has seen the conditions these women live in. It’s time to show leadership and protect the vulnerable.’
The bill seeks to criminalise both accusations and banishment; provide legal and psychosocial support for survivors; establish proper reintegration programmes that ensure reuniting with their families; and provide reliable sources of livelihood for women who have been in the camps for years.
While some traditional leaders fear it may conflict with local customs, others have endorsed it as necessary and overdue. ‘This bill is not a cure-all,’ adds Eugenia Ayishetu Ayagiba, Women’s Rights and Campaigns Manager at ActionAid Ghana.
‘But it’s a starting point. It targets the root – the accusation itself – which often begins with a single person labelling another as a witch.’
Amnesty International: ‘End the Banishment of Women’
International organisations have also weighed in. Amnesty International condemned the practice of banishment, describing it as a violation of dignity, freedom, and equality before the law.
‘These women are victims, not villains,’ the organisation stated. ‘The Ghanaian state must act swiftly to end this practice and reintegrate all survivors with dignity and support.’
Genevieve Partington, Country Director of Amnesty International Ghana, told Channel One TV that while the camps serve as temporary havens, they lack basic facilities.
‘Many have no proper sanitation, healthcare, or water. The Government must prioritise their welfare and fast-track the passage of the Anti-Witchcraft Bill.’
Reintegration Efforts
In the past decade, Civil Society Organisations, in collaboration with the Ministry of Gender, Children and Social Protection (MoGCSP), have successfully reintegrated more than 200 women, leading to the closure of two camps – Naabuli and Bonyasi. This was disclosed in an interview with Shani Abdul Kasiru, Head of Programmes at Songtaba.
According to Shani Abdul Kasiru, his team works closely with communities to prepare both residents and returnees for reintegration.
‘We profile the women, gather their biodata, and hold community engagements to ease tensions. For those who feel unsafe returning home, we relocate them to alternative communities.’
The process, he says, is resource-intensive and requires sustained donor support.
Camps as Safe Havens
Despite the harsh conditions, some women choose to remain in the camps out of fear of re-accusation or violence. Many of these women are elderly, and are often found in these camps with young children who care for them (ie: fetch water for use, cook, clean and do laundry, etc), and live with them in these terrible conditions.
‘It is safer here,’ says Madam Alimatu (who chose not to disclose her identity publicly for fear of being recognised). ‘In the camp, we can sleep without fear. But if I return home, they may come for me again.’
She admits, however, that life in the camp is hard. ‘Our biggest challenge is poverty. Many of us depend on charity. Some have relatives who help, but most have no one.’
Kasiru agrees that the women’s sense of safety must be respected. ‘We can’t just close the camps if the women feel safer there. The goal should be to support them with livelihoods while ensuring protection.’
A Pilgrimage and a Promise
Adamu’s story is also one of redemption. In 2024, she fulfilled a lifelong dream- performing the Islamic pilgrimage to Mecca. ‘It healed something inside me,’ she says. ‘There, I felt human again. I felt free.’
For many Muslim women, the pilgrimage to Mecca is more than a journey of faith; it is a passage of devotion, endurance, and spiritual rebirth. For Adamu, who had dreamt of this moment for 68 years, the journey would have been impossible had she still been in the camp, like so many other women.
Now back in Bimbilla, she farms a small plot of land and mentors younger women, advocating for others still trapped in camps.
‘My prayer,’ she says, ‘is that no woman will suffer what I suffered. Let them live in peace. Let them come home.’?She pauses, then adds softly: ‘Let Parliament pass the bill.’
Ghana, long seen as a beacon of democracy and human rights, stands at a crossroads. The belief in witchcraft remains deeply rooted, but tolerance for accusations has reached a crisis point.
Without legal protection, the cycle of accusation, banishment, and abuse will persist. But with political will, education, and sustained advocacy, change is possible.
For women like Adamu Mahama, the answer cannot come soon enough.