Omo Ghana: Man for Chop is a collaborative effort between Ghanaian-born sociology academics Aloysius Acquah, Akosua Darkwah, and Faisal Garba on one side and Kwame Boadi (director) and Oliver Safo (producer) on the other. The film is a compelling documentary that revisits the painful migration story of about one million Ghanaians (approximately 10 percent of the Ghanaian population at the time) who were forcefully ejected from Nigeria, following an executive order by Nigerian president Shehu Shagari in 1984, asking all undocumented migrants to leave within a period of two weeks, a phenomenon that is famously called “Ghana Must Go.” The Ghanaians had migrated to Nigeria, during the 1970s oil boom, seeking greener pastures. They worked as both skilled and unskilled workers with their major settlement in Agege, Lagos. By the early 1980s however, the oil price crashed, resources became tighter, and Nigerians began to scapegoat Ghanaians for their predicament. The documentary is mainly divided into two parts: the story of the “Ghana Must Go” forceful ejection and the present day “japa” syndrome. Japa can be defined as the mass migration of the working class in West Africa to more developed nations.
The film contains reenactments of those who relive the ordeal of forced displacement. There are short fictional dramatic pieces that help reenact the story, which makes the documentary also qualify for the genre of “docu-drama.” This fusion of scholarship and personal testimony is one of the film’s strongest elements, grounding historical events in lived experience. The reenactments are staged simply but powerfully, allowing memory to become both performance and testimony, while the inclusion of scholars frames the events within broader questions of African migration, nationalism, and economic dependency.
Beyond the Nigeria-Ghana migration politics, which has remained testy over a period of forty years, the documentary also explores the broader issues concerning migration and the misconceptions surrounding migrants in Africa. Migrants are seen as taking jobs, whereas migrants create jobs by drawing attention to overlooked opportunities and resources.
The politics of the ubiquitous woven bag called “Ghana Must Go” is present in the documentary. It is seen as a symbol of displacement in many parts of Africa and it is derogatively tied to unwanted migrants. In Nigeria, it is known as “Ghana Must Go,” in South Africa as the “China bag,” in Botswana as “Zimbabwe,” and in Zimbabwe as “Botswana.” The shifting label reflects broader continental problems with migration, xenophobia, and stigmatization.
Beyond recounting the past, Omo Ghana: Man for Chop provokes reflection on the present. Strikingly, the film challenges the modern obsession with “japa.” The film particularly stresses the importance of pursuing legitimate pathways if migration is inevitable. Otherwise, thriving youths are encouraged to stay in their home countries and develop industries.
The documentary is timely as fresh aggression against Nigerians living in Ghana was witnessed as recently as July 2025 with the slogan “Nigeria must go.” This negates the ECOWAS truce of free trade and interaction across the West African coast. The documentary is therefore diagnostic as it highlights the cyclical nature of xenophobia and the fragility of Pan-African solidarity.
Artistically, the film is restrained yet poignant. Its cinematography relies on close-ups during testimonies, intensifying the intimacy of memory. Editing alternates between reflective academic commentary and emotionally charged personal accounts, which sometimes creates tension but also underscores the gap between theory and lived suffering. While the film avoids sensationalism, its affective power is unmistakable. The film also pays attention to the gendered dimensions of the forced deportation and highlights that women and children suffered the hardship more.
As an academic contribution, Omo Ghana: Man for Chop succeeds in foregrounding migrant voices that are often absent from state-centered histories. It raises urgent questions: Who gets to narrate displacement? How are migrants remembered in national narratives? And what lessons can contemporary West Africa draw from these histories? The film, however, fails to counterbalance the narrative as the economic disruptions and cultural losses on the Nigerian side were not acknowledged. Audience reflections during screening highlighted a shared pain, from Nigerians who had to keep the belongings of their Ghanaian neighbors for up to two years after the forced deportation, to children who wake up to find out that their favorite teachers have disappeared. Getting replacements for the labor of the Ghanaians was slow and painful.
In sum, Omo Ghana: Man for Chop is more than a documentary about the past; it is a cinematic intervention into ongoing debates about migration, nationalism, and belonging in Africa. Its blend of scholarship, memory, and art makes it both a valuable historical record and a poignant warning about the persistence of exclusionary politics.
