Chargement en cours...Chargement en cours...Chargement en cours...Chargement en cours...The journey of return
Among all the stories told by the streets of Aneho, that of the Agudas is perhaps the least known and most moving. The Agudas are descendants of African slaves deported to Brazil who, once freed, crossed the Atlantic in reverse to return and settle on their ancestors' coast. Their story is one of return — geographical, cultural, identity — that profoundly marked the face of Petit Popo and whose traces are still visible in every two-story house, every surname, every recipe.
Between the 17th and 19th centuries, tens of thousands of Africans from the Guinean coast were deported to Brazil, mainly to the Bahia region. Salvador de Bahia was the main entry point for captives into the New World. Many came from the area that today corresponds to southern Togo and Benin. The most represented ethnicities among the deported were Yoruba, Fon, Ewe and Guin-Mina — the direct ancestors of Aneho's current inhabitants.
Unlike in other regions of the Americas, Africans in Bahia managed to preserve a considerable part of their cultural heritage. The concentration of slaves from the same origins, the relative tolerance of Brazilian masters toward African cultural practices, and the continuity of captive arrivals over nearly three centuries allowed languages, cults and traditions to survive. Candomble, the Afro-Brazilian religion, is the direct descendant of Guin Voodoo and Fon Vodoun. Brazil's orixas — Yemanja, Ogun, Xango — are the Brazilian names of the Guinean coast's vodun.
After Britain's abolition of the slave trade in 1807, pressure intensified on the last countries practicing slavery. Brazil officially abolished the trade in 1850, and slavery itself in 1888. Meanwhile, Brazilian freedmen, born free or having purchased their freedom, began returning to Africa. This return movement, beginning around 1830 and peaking in the 1880s, gave birth to the Aguda community — from the Portuguese "ajuda" (help), referring to the mutual aid that characterized these returning communities.
In Aneho, the Agudas settled in a quarter that quickly became the city's economic heart. They were masons, carpenters, tailors, merchants, bringing with them technical skills acquired in Brazil. They built two-story houses, unknown in local traditional architecture. They continued speaking Portuguese among themselves, practicing Catholicism — sometimes blending it with Voodoo traditions — and cooking dishes that mixed African ingredients with Brazilian recipes.
The Aguda legacy is visible everywhere in Aneho. In the two-story houses of the Afro-Brazilian quarter, with their wrought-iron balconies and interior patios. In the surnames — Olympio, de Souza, d'Almeida, Sacramento — that still resonate in Togolese political, economic and cultural life. In recipes mixing Guin pepper with Brazilian coconut milk. In Portuguese words embedded in everyday Mina.
Aneho is the endpoint of a transatlantic loop connecting Africa, Brazil and Europe for four centuries. For descendants of the Brazilian diaspora seeking their roots, the city is an essential stop. Family archives, oral histories and the stones of the Afro-Brazilian quarter tell a story where the rupture of slavery was never the last word. Some families in Aneho and Bahia have succeeded in reestablishing genealogical links, identifying common ancestors, resuming a conversation interrupted for two centuries.
Brazilian candomble and Guin Voodoo share common roots, visible in every ritual. Brazil's orixas are direct descendants of the Guinean coast's vodun. Yemanja, goddess of the sea, derives from Yemoja, the saltwater divinity. Ogun, god of iron and war, is the same Ogun venerated in Glidji and throughout Yoruba country. The drum rhythms, the songs in Yoruba or Fon, the food and cloth offerings, the ritual trances: everything recalls this kinship.
When the Agudas returned in the 19th century, they found practices they had preserved on the other side of the Atlantic. Candomble priests and Guin Hunon recognized each other's gods, rituals and taboos. This mutual recognition gave birth to exchanges that continue today. Joint ceremonies sometimes take place, Brazilian priests come to train in Aneho, ritual objects cross the Atlantic in both directions.
Today, Brazilians come to Aneho to find candomble's sources and their family history. This reverse pilgrimage, from the New World to the Old, is one of the most moving phenomena of contemporary memory tourism. The city welcomes them as children returned after a long journey. Ceremonies are organized, names are exchanged, bonds are reconnected. For visitors of Brazilian origin, walking Aneho's soil, smelling the lagoon, hearing the drums resonate in the evening in the Afro-Brazilian quarter, is touching a memory that their ancestors carried across the ocean without ever forgetting.