If you want to understand religious tolerance, put down the theology textbooks and come walk the streets of Aného on a Sunday morning.
In the humidity-heavy sea air, you will hear the bells of the Saints Peter and Paul Cathedral ringing in full peal. A few streets away, the deep chant of the muezzin rises from the central mosque. And if you push open the gate of a historic Afro-Brazilian family courtyard, it is highly likely you will come face-to-face with a Voodoo altar freshly sprinkled with red palm oil, sitting right beneath a crucifix.
Aného is not a city divided by religion; it is a city that has simply added its gods together.
The Unshakeable Bedrock: Voodoo and the Ancestors
Before the cathedrals and mosques, there was the forest, the lagoon, and lightning. The animist foundation (often grouped under the generic term Voodoo) is the original spiritual geological layer of the region.
Here, Voodoo is not experienced as a competing "religion" that one must choose, but rather as a law of nature. Believing in the invisible, in the power of water deities (like Mami Wata in popular imagination) or lightning (Heviesso), is simply accepting how the world works. Even when a resident of Aného converts to a major monotheistic religion, they rarely deny the presence and power of their ancestors. Failing to honor the family altar means exposing oneself to personal and social imbalance.
The Catholic Heritage of the Agoudas
Catholicism in Aného has a very specific coloration. While German and later French missionaries played a classic evangelizing role, the deep rooting of the Roman Church came from within, via the Agoudas.
When these former slaves returned from Bahia (Brazil) in the 19th century, they brought back the fervent Catholicism of Latin America, complete with its cult of patron saints. To mark their status as free and civilized men, they built private chapels right inside their family compounds.
Thus, a dazzling physical syncretism was born. In the same courtyard, people would pray to Saint Anthony of Padua to find a lost object, but they would consult the Voodoo priest to ensure a curse hadn't been cast. Statues of Catholic saints and animist fetishes cohabited (and still do) without waging war on each other.
Islam: The Religion of the Northern Merchants
The third great spiritual force is Islam, introduced later and more peacefully via trade routes. Merchants from northern Togo (Kotokoli, Tchamba), as well as from Mali or Niger, settled in Aného to trade in cattle, grains, and fabrics.
Although Islam is doctrinally very strict regarding the prohibition of idolatry (which stands in direct opposition to Voodoo fetishes), the coexistence in Aného is exemplary. Muslim communities are fully integrated into the city's economic fabric. The festivals of Tabaski (Eid al-Adha) or Korité (Eid al-Fitr) are occasions for Muslims to share grandiose meals with their Christian or animist neighbors. Belonging to the Aného community takes precedence over dogma.
Spiritual Pragmatism: Adding Rather Than Excluding
How is this peace possible? The answer lies in West African spiritual pragmatism. Here, spirituality is viewed as a search for efficiency, protection, and healing. If a child is sick, there is absolutely no contradiction in having a mass said in the morning, having a Quranic prayer recited by a marabout in the afternoon, and consulting the Fâ (the Voodoo oracle) in the evening to understand the root cause of the misfortune.
Deities are not seen as jealous, but as complementary. It is this philosophy of inclusion that makes Aného such a marvelous anomaly. During the great traditional Epé-Ekpé festival in Glidji, you will see women wearing crosses around their necks, dressed in white cloth, fervently waiting for the Sacred Stone to emerge from the animist forest. They are not betraying their God; they are simply embracing the full depth of their history.