West Africa, Togo – August 8, 2018. A man enters a sacred forest, a restricted area protected by religious beliefs linked to animistic traditions.
West Africa, Togo – August 8, 2018. A man enters a sacred forest, a restricted area protected by religious beliefs linked to animistic traditions.
VOODOO
A parallel reflection
Togo - 2018/2020
1.Waiting to enter the village’s sacred house, where preparations for a day-long ritual are underway. Outside, a suspended stillness surrounds the structure: faint movements inside, trees now quiet. A hen stands motionless at the entrance. 2.Inside a small sacred room, the ritual is led by the high priest. Five participants sit closely on a narrow wooden bench. An alcoholic substance mixed with unknown powders is passed hand to hand in a wooden bowl, from which each person drinks.
1.Waiting to enter the village’s sacred house, where preparations for a day-long ritual are underway. Outside, a suspended stillness surrounds the structure: faint movements inside, trees now quiet. A hen stands motionless at the entrance. 2.Inside a small sacred room, the ritual is led by the high priest. Five participants sit closely on a narrow wooden bench. An alcoholic substance mixed with unknown powders is passed hand to hand in a wooden bowl, from which each person drinks.
1.Before meeting a priestess, I waited inside her small, bare house. On the wall, a cut-out portrait of her was placed over a Northern European landscape with a rainbow, sharply contrasting with the hot, dusty surroundings. A spider hanging near her smiling face made the scene unsettling. 2.After her preparations and before the ritual, I met the priestess briefly. Her approval later allowed me to access other Voodoo-related spiritual sites, thanks to the influence she held in the area.
1.Before meeting a priestess, I waited inside her small, bare house. On the wall, a cut-out portrait of her was placed over a Northern European landscape with a rainbow, sharply contrasting with the hot, dusty surroundings. A spider hanging near her smiling face made the scene unsettling. 2.After her preparations and before the ritual, I met the priestess briefly. Her approval later allowed me to access other Voodoo-related spiritual sites, thanks to the influence she held in the area.
1.Before being admitted to the high priest, I waited nearly thirty minutes in an antechamber. In the adjacent room, separated only by a curtain, he spoke with his son. When the warm wind lifted the fabric, I caught brief glimpses of him. 2.In a remote village reached through crumbling white streets, I met the village chief and spiritual guide. He initially refused my presence but later allowed a brief visit. He answered my questions politely, though with visible reserve.
1.Before being admitted to the high priest, I waited nearly thirty minutes in an antechamber. In the adjacent room, separated only by a curtain, he spoke with his son. When the warm wind lifted the fabric, I caught brief glimpses of him. 2.In a remote village reached through crumbling white streets, I met the village chief and spiritual guide. He initially refused my presence but later allowed a brief visit. He answered my questions politely, though with visible reserve.
Approaching the spiritual dimension of a community is difficult. It means entering something intimate, reserved for those who live and experience belief as part of everyday life.
Animism is only a word, an attempt to contain a wide range of spiritual realities, rituals, traditions, and ways of living. In Togo, these beliefs are not confined to ceremonies or sacred spaces, but are woven into ordinary gestures and daily habits, covered by an immaterial presence that seems to permeate everything.
Contrary to common assumptions, the persistence of traditional beliefs in Togo is not the result of extreme poverty or the absence of modern structures. Despite centuries of European colonial influence and the spread of Christianity and Islam, more than half of the population continues to find spiritual meaning in ancient African religions.
During my journeys in Togo, my approach was driven by curiosity rather than explanation. What I encountered was not a hidden or secret form of magic, but something openly present in daily life. A quiet, constant force embedded in simple actions, often unnoticed.
I began to think of it as a form of African magical realism, where everyday reality and the spiritual world coexist naturally, without clear boundaries. Through these encounters, my sense of distance slowly dissolved, replaced by respect, restraint, and a growing awareness of how deeply spirituality shapes life here.
1.A minor priest shows the ingredients of an alcoholic drink prepared for the ritual, later shared and consumed by all participants. 2.A senior Voodoo priest, right-hand man of the high priest, evaluates my presence before granting access. After approving my intentions, he invites me into his sacred house, where spirits are believed to roam and silence is required so they can be heard.
1.A minor priest shows the ingredients of an alcoholic drink prepared for the ritual, later shared and consumed by all participants. 2.A senior Voodoo priest, right-hand man of the high priest, evaluates my presence before granting access. After approving my intentions, he invites me into his sacred house, where spirits are believed to roam and silence is required so they can be heard.
1.In Akodessawa, near the Marché aux Fétiches, a pair of Voodoo dolls—among the most recognizable symbols of the religion—rests atop piles of animal skulls. Their use may be benevolent or malevolent, depending on the ritual purpose. 2.During spiritual ceremonies, Voodoo dolls are often present, representing the spirits of the dead. At the climax of the ritual, a sacrifice is performed and the blood offered to the Loa.
1.In Akodessawa, near the Marché aux Fétiches, a pair of Voodoo dolls—among the most recognizable symbols of the religion—rests atop piles of animal skulls. Their use may be benevolent or malevolent, depending on the ritual purpose. 2.During spiritual ceremonies, Voodoo dolls are often present, representing the spirits of the dead. At the climax of the ritual, a sacrifice is performed and the blood offered to the Loa.
1.In Lomé, a city undergoing rapid change, slum-like neighborhoods persist as cities within the city. There I met a Voodoo priest known at the Marché aux Fétiches. Intrigued by my work, he invited me to his sacred house, asking a powerful Loa for a blessing. 2.Inside the village’s spirit house, a Nigerian priest performs a propitiatory ritual in near darkness, whispering prayers in one of the many ancestral languages still spoken in his homeland.
1.In Lomé, a city undergoing rapid change, slum-like neighborhoods persist as cities within the city. There I met a Voodoo priest known at the Marché aux Fétiches. Intrigued by my work, he invited me to his sacred house, asking a powerful Loa for a blessing. 2.Inside the village’s spirit house, a Nigerian priest performs a propitiatory ritual in near darkness, whispering prayers in one of the many ancestral languages still spoken in his homeland.
1.Inside the small, dark spirit house, the priest prepares to consult the spirits, tracing signs on the ground and whispering a litany. A hen sits quietly beside him, behaving with an unusual stillness often observed during moments of ritual invocation. 2.After the spirits are summoned, the ritual moves outside. The priest poses questions and receives answers through abrupt hand movements, causing a bowl of water to tilt or roll on the ground, gestures through which the spirits’ responded.
1.Inside the small, dark spirit house, the priest prepares to consult the spirits, tracing signs on the ground and whispering a litany. A hen sits quietly beside him, behaving with an unusual stillness often observed during moments of ritual invocation. 2.After the spirits are summoned, the ritual moves outside. The priest poses questions and receives answers through abrupt hand movements, causing a bowl of water to tilt or roll on the ground, gestures through which the spirits’ responded.
1.After speaking with the priest, I was allowed to enter the Loa’s sacred house, a small shack secured by a heavy bolt. As the door opened, the figure emerged from the darkness in a narrow shaft of light. After a few minutes, I was asked to leave. 2.Two respected priestesses lived in the village. One led me to meet the other. The passage from bright daylight to darkness was abrupt. As my eyes adjusted, her figure appeared, already watching me with a gaze between curiosity and indifference.
1.After speaking with the priest, I was allowed to enter the Loa’s sacred house, a small shack secured by a heavy bolt. As the door opened, the figure emerged from the darkness in a narrow shaft of light. After a few minutes, I was asked to leave. 2.Two respected priestesses lived in the village. One led me to meet the other. The passage from bright daylight to darkness was abrupt. As my eyes adjusted, her figure appeared, already watching me with a gaze between curiosity and indifference.
1.A sacred waterfall hidden in dense, humid forest near the border with Ghana. After a steep climb in oppressive heat, the vegetation opens onto a solitary, almost otherworldly place. 2.During a festivity, men and women spend the night inside a sacred forest. They re-emerge the following day dressed in leaves and foliage, marking the conclusion of the ritual.
1.A sacred waterfall hidden in dense, humid forest near the border with Ghana. After a steep climb in oppressive heat, the vegetation opens onto a solitary, almost otherworldly place. 2.During a festivity, men and women spend the night inside a sacred forest. They re-emerge the following day dressed in leaves and foliage, marking the conclusion of the ritual.
1.Places rich in fresh water are believed to be the dwelling of Ayida-Weddo. On the way to a sacred waterfall in the forest, a silent boy joined us, guiding the path. At the pool’s center he stood with hands raised, staring at me, then vanished back into the trees. 2.Kneeling before the Loa, the priest performs a propitiatory ritual. His whispered prayers form a chant as he drinks an alcoholic beverage, vaporizing it from his mouth as an offering to the spirits.
1.Places rich in fresh water are believed to be the dwelling of Ayida-Weddo. On the way to a sacred waterfall in the forest, a silent boy joined us, guiding the path. At the pool’s center he stood with hands raised, staring at me, then vanished back into the trees. 2.Kneeling before the Loa, the priest performs a propitiatory ritual. His whispered prayers form a chant as he drinks an alcoholic beverage, vaporizing it from his mouth as an offering to the spirits.
1.The dense sacred forest lies a few kilometers from town. Entry required permission from a senior priest and a protective ritual for outsiders. Silent and humid, it felt enveloping, like entering a living organism. 2.The ritual began outdoors in afternoon light and ended at night inside the sacred house, lit by torches. Villagers gathered quietly. The air was heavy with sweat and alcohol. A palm-based drink used to alter consciousness was central to the ritual.
1.The dense sacred forest lies a few kilometers from town. Entry required permission from a senior priest and a protective ritual for outsiders. Silent and humid, it felt enveloping, like entering a living organism. 2.The ritual began outdoors in afternoon light and ended at night inside the sacred house, lit by torches. Villagers gathered quietly. The air was heavy with sweat and alcohol. A palm-based drink used to alter consciousness was central to the ritual.
Approaching the spiritual dimension of a community is never simple. It requires looking inward, toward something intimate and deeply personal, shared only by those who live that belief daily. As an outsider, this demands patience, observation, and restraint.
Animism is a convenient term, but an imprecise one. It attempts to define an immense variety of spiritual realities, rituals, traditions, and ways of living. In Togo, these beliefs are not confined to formal ceremonies or sacred spaces. They manifest in ordinary gestures, daily routines, and small habits, wrapped in an immaterial presence that quietly permeates everyday life.
This persistence of traditional beliefs is often misunderstood. In Togo, it is not primarily the result of poverty or the absence of a welfare system. Despite strong European colonial influence—first German, then French—and the spread of Christianity and Islam, traditional African religions remain deeply rooted. Today, more than half of the population continues to find spiritual answers within these ancestral belief systems.
My approach to this complex reality was guided by genuine curiosity. Over two journeys to Togo, which led me to encounter the Vodun—literally “the sign of the deep,” widely known as Voodoo—I was struck by how different the lived reality was from Western imagination. Voodoo is often associated with secrecy or dark rituals, yet what I encountered was something visible, integrated, and openly present.
In Western culture, the word “voodoo” immediately evokes black magic. But by slowing down and observing daily life, it became clear that the spiritual dimension was not hidden. It existed in plain sight, embedded in simple gestures, whether conscious or not. I began to think of this as a form of African magical realism, recalling the shifting atmospheres found in the writings of Gabriel García Márquez, where the ordinary and the supernatural coexist seamlessly.
Moments of quiet intensity repeated themselves throughout my stay, gradually drawing me in while deepening my respect for this ancestral spiritual world. One day, while walking through the forest toward a waterfall sacred to Ayda-Weddo, the deity of fertility and fresh water, a ten-year-old boy joined us without saying a word. Upon reaching the pool at the base of the waterfall, he stepped into the water, stood still in an ascetic posture for a few seconds, and then left, descending the forest path without speaking.
It was one of the most powerful moments of my African journeys.
On another occasion, I wandered alone through the streets of Atakpamé during celebrations honoring the igname, a tuber central to Togolese culture. Its symbolic significance lies in its nine-month maturation underground, mirroring human gestation. In a narrow alley, I encountered a spirit mask dancing alone to the distant rhythm of drums. There was no audience but me. When I walked away, the dance continued, as if my presence had barely been noticed.
Experiences like these occurred repeatedly, each time producing a strong sense of displacement. This place does not impose itself abruptly; it enters slowly, through the skin. Landscapes and people form a deep connection, rooting themselves in consciousness and subtly transforming it, often in ways that persist long after leaving.
Original record taken in a sacred forest. The distant chant was from a ceremony where the acces was forbidden.
1.In a remote village hours from town, a powerful Loa resided in the House of the Spirits. After hesitation, the priest and villagers allowed me to see them. The most feared, known as “the Mother,” required kneeling in respect. Offerings of fruit, eggs, and traces of sacrifice marked the walls. 2.The ceremony involved me through a blessing. Initially welcoming, the priests grew solemn as it began. The officiant suddenly stopped, asked my name, and the others turned to stare in silence.
1.In a remote village hours from town, a powerful Loa resided in the House of the Spirits. After hesitation, the priest and villagers allowed me to see them. The most feared, known as “the Mother,” required kneeling in respect. Offerings of fruit, eggs, and traces of sacrifice marked the walls. 2.The ceremony involved me through a blessing. Initially welcoming, the priests grew solemn as it began. The officiant suddenly stopped, asked my name, and the others turned to stare in silence.
1.While visiting a minor priest, I noticed a hen wandering the courtyard completely plucked. The bird had been used in a ritual, and its survival was believed to signal the spirits’ response. 2.Three elderly men approach the high priest seeking a blessing. The ritual includes a sacrifice. Blood, central to the ceremony, embodies life itself and is partly poured onto the ground as an offering to the ancestors.
1.While visiting a minor priest, I noticed a hen wandering the courtyard completely plucked. The bird had been used in a ritual, and its survival was believed to signal the spirits’ response. 2.Three elderly men approach the high priest seeking a blessing. The ritual includes a sacrifice. Blood, central to the ceremony, embodies life itself and is partly poured onto the ground as an offering to the ancestors.
1.Inside the spirit house of a prominent Voodoo priest, the walls are painted with images of powerful Loa. Among them, the Tree of Life stands out, a symbol shared across religions, with a French inscription reading “spirits save me.” 2.A minor priest shows fetishes he crafted himself, sold to those seeking solutions to personal problems. Among them, a lock believed to bind a person to another.
1.Inside the spirit house of a prominent Voodoo priest, the walls are painted with images of powerful Loa. Among them, the Tree of Life stands out, a symbol shared across religions, with a French inscription reading “spirits save me.” 2.A minor priest shows fetishes he crafted himself, sold to those seeking solutions to personal problems. Among them, a lock believed to bind a person to another.
1.Walking through the streets of Atakpamé, I encountered a masked figure dancing alone in an alley, embodying a Loa. The movement followed distant drums. He continued, unaware of my presence, even as I walked away. 2.In Akodessawa, one of the city’s harshest districts, the fetish market fills the air with the pungent smell of decay. Under burning sun, canopies shelter rows of animal skulls, their dark sockets fixed on passing visitors.
1.Walking through the streets of Atakpamé, I encountered a masked figure dancing alone in an alley, embodying a Loa. The movement followed distant drums. He continued, unaware of my presence, even as I walked away. 2.In Akodessawa, one of the city’s harshest districts, the fetish market fills the air with the pungent smell of decay. Under burning sun, canopies shelter rows of animal skulls, their dark sockets fixed on passing visitors.
1.Inside the small spirit house of a minor priest, kept in darkness according to tradition, a cloth depicting Damballa—the supreme Loa and father of all others—appears at the center of the room, represented as a serpent. 2.In the dim spirit house, a young apprentice provides light with a torch as the priest casts three concave stones to consult the spirits.
1.Inside the small spirit house of a minor priest, kept in darkness according to tradition, a cloth depicting Damballa—the supreme Loa and father of all others—appears at the center of the room, represented as a serpent. 2.In the dim spirit house, a young apprentice provides light with a torch as the priest casts three concave stones to consult the spirits.
1.Wandering through a quiet street in Atakpamé, lined with low brick houses, I noticed three dogs standing on a rooftop against a gray sky, staring at me. As I approached, the central one growled. The street was otherwise empty, adding to the unsettling stillness. 2.During preparations for the Igname festival, in an empty square, masked figures representing forest spirits rehearse in silence.
1.Wandering through a quiet street in Atakpamé, lined with low brick houses, I noticed three dogs standing on a rooftop against a gray sky, staring at me. As I approached, the central one growled. The street was otherwise empty, adding to the unsettling stillness. 2.During preparations for the Igname festival, in an empty square, masked figures representing forest spirits rehearse in silence.