About 60 to 70 percent of the Ghanaian population depends on the traditional medicine market for their medical care, according to a 2023 study in Frontiers in Pharmacology.

People in rural Ghana rely on traditional plant knowledge for three reasons: Accessibility, cost, and familiarity Originally published on Global Voices Vendor Yaa Akpe sells a branch of African Rosewood (Latin name Dalbergia Saxatilis) at her stall in Accra, Ghana. Photo by Jeslyn Lemke. Used with permission. This post is part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “ Indigenous Rights .” This series offers insight into the lives and experiences of Indigenous peoples to build connections across regions, center Indigenous experiences, and share the stories of leaders, activists, community members, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here . T he traditional medicine market in Ghana, West Africa, is thriving, offering countless cures passed down by generations of Indigenous Ga and Twi tribes. As prices for Western pharmaceuticals and Western medical care rise, Ghanaians are relying on the medical remedies they have always turned to: plants. Dr. Kofi Donkor , deputy director of the Center for Plant Medicine Research, and an expert on the medical benefits of many traditional Ghanaian plants, noted: The traditional medicine practitioners themselves, for them, it is a profession. It is something that has been passed down from generation to generation to them. So they know how to use plants properly. Indeed, let me admit that for us in research, our primary source of knowledge, and in botanical research is from the traditional medicine practitioners. It is the knowledge from the practitioners that we try to validate using scientific methods. What we are doing in research is basically trying to validate the traditional knowledge that we get. Plant-based medicine is a big business in Ghana In rural Ghana, women start picking medicinal herbs from both the bush and cultivated plots early in the morning to sell fresh in the capital city of Accra. By mid-morning, they’ve set up their booths piled high with fresh vines, leaves, stems, and bark to sell to customers. Plant-based medicine is a big business in Ghana. The Center for Plant Medicine Research , created by the Ghanaian government in 1976, works with raw plant material to create natural products and treat patients. Their outpatient clinic sees roughly 16,000 patients a month. About 60 to 70 percent of the Ghanaian population depends on traditional medicine markets for their medical care, according to a 2023 study in Frontiers in Pharmacology . Donkor says many people in rural Ghana rely on traditional plant knowledge for three reasons: Accessibility, cost, and familiarity. In an interview with Global Voices, he explained: Indeed the data shows that in most developing countries, in rural communities, traditional medicine forms 80 percent of primary health care… It actually contributes largely to us trying to meet the goals of universal health care. The deep green forests and meadows of rural Ghana have been home to rural villagers for many years, so many villagers are already familiar with the various plants that can heal a disease. Living near these forests makes plant-based medicine an easy, cheaper option for treating disease in rural Ghana, when Western pharmacies are too expensive or far away. Donkor said many rural Ghanaians already know the right plants to treat a problem, and may only visit an herbal practitioner when a more complicated disease is present. He said: So sometimes when you are sick you don’t necessarily have to go to the traditional medicine practitioner in the community to get medication. You just go to your backyard and you know this herb is for malaria, this herb is for typhoid, this herb improves your hemoglobin levels, and you just pluck some, you boil, and you drink. Ongoing research on West African plants Botanical researchers at the Center for Plant Medicine Research are currently studying a full panel of West African plants for their ability to cure diseases, including a green shrub that has shown promising treatment against prostate cancer ( croton membranaceous ). When asked whether consumers can trust the plants sold in Accra’s open-air markets, Donkor cautioned that though vendors are probably selling the right plants, the dosage is really important. If a practitioner knows what they are doing and prescribes the right amount of a plant, it can be a powerful cure for the client. Featured in the above video is Patience, a plant healer who lives in Accra and regularly treats friends and family with traditional plants for many illnesses, including malaria, yeast infections, and colds. Patience shows how the common mother-in-law tongue plant ( Dracaena trifasciata ) can be prepared as a cold bath. She advises users to make a tea bath from the plant’s leaves, and then let it soak into the skin without drying oneself. She says the botanical brew calms anxiety and helps with good sleep. Spiritually, Patience says this plant can keep bad people away from one’s home if you keep it by the door. The scientific research at the Center for Plant Medicine Research, which draws on traditional medicine knowledge, adds legitimacy and international attention to the deep Indigenous knowledge of these plants. As Western drug costs and gas prices continue to rise in Ghana and across West Africa, the traditional medicine market can provide a sustainable source of natural healing for the population. Written by Jeslyn Lemke

If Dambe becomes increasingly commercialised, who establishes the policies governing it? Originally published on Global Voices Dambe fighters at the National Open of the Traditional Sports Tournament in Nigeria. Photo by Nshua Cali-Dibang, used with permission. By Nshua Cali-Dibang This post is part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “ Indigenous Rights .” This series offers insight into the lives and experiences of Indigenous peoples to build connections across regions, center Indigenous experiences, and share the stories of leaders, activists, community members, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here . As Dambe fighters gather for a contest, the scene can look like a simple fight. Two opponents face one another, surrounded by drums, chants and spectators waiting for the first strike. Yet behind the spectacle is a tradition deeply associated with the Hausa people of Nigeria and West Africa . Dambe is a traditional combat sport historically practised by Hausa communities, particularly among butchers and tradesmen. According to BBC Sport , the sport was associated with festivals and harvest periods and was regarded as a test of bravery. Its history has also been connected to preparing men for warfare and, in some communities, rites of passage. Dambe is going global For generations, therefore, Dambe has existed within particular communities and social relationships. But today, the sport is moving beyond those traditional settings. Its appearance on social media has introduced it to audiences far beyond Nigeria. Dambe Warriors , for example, used YouTube to transform local competitions into content for a global audience, with millions of views coming from outside Nigeria. This visibility presents an important opportunity. Greater exposure can create new audiences, income and recognition for fighters. BBC Sport reported that Dambe's online popularity had grown dramatically, while promoters hoped the sport could move beyond its local origins and become internationally recognised . But visibility also raises a question about who gets to define Dambe as it enters the mainstream. Connected beliefs and traditions One of the clearest examples is the spiritual dimension surrounding some Dambe fighters. Reporting by Al Jazeera documented fighters wearing amulets, undertaking fortification rituals and using herbal preparations before competitions. These practices demonstrate that, for some practitioners, Dambe is connected to beliefs and traditions that extend beyond the physical contest. This raises an important question about how Indigenous cultural practices are interpreted. An object that may appear to an outside observer as decoration can carry a completely different meaning for the person who wears it. Rather than deciding what these practices mean from outside, their meaning should be understood through the voices of the people and communities who practise them. Influence of professional sporting structures Dambe is also changing structurally. Modern organisers are introducing rules intended to make competitions safer and easier to follow. According to BBC Sport , African Warriors introduced three three-minute rounds, a points system, and clearer definitions of knockdowns as part of efforts to make the sport safer and fairer. These changes are not necessarily a threat to tradition. Professionalisation can bring better opportunities, safety measures, sponsorship and income for fighters. The same BBC report documented fighters earning prize money and organisers attracting international interest. Yet modernisation raises another question: what should be preserved, and who decides? The question of preservation If Dambe becomes increasingly commercialised, who establishes the policies governing it? Should decisions come primarily from government and sports administrators, private promoters, cultural institutions, traditional authorities, or the communities that have historically practised the sport? There may not be a simple answer. Regulation can provide structure and safety, while professionalisation can create opportunities that traditional competitions may not have been able to offer. But if decisions about the future of Dambe are made without meaningful participation from its communities, there is a risk that the sport's cultural context becomes secondary to its commercial value. This is where Dambe becomes relevant to Indigenous rights. Dambe’s future Cultural heritage is not simply something to be displayed during festivals or packaged for outside audiences. It can be living knowledge, practised by communities and adapted by each generation. The question is therefore not whether Dambe should remain exactly as it was in the past. Communities themselves may want the sport to change. The more important question is whether they have a meaningful voice in deciding how it changes. As Dambe moves from community arenas to YouTube channels, organised championships and professional sporting structures, its future should involve the people who have carried the tradition forward. Fighters, elders, organisers, cultural practitioners and community members should be part of conversations about its regulation, representation, commercialisation and preservation. The future of Dambe does not have to be a choice between tradition and modernity. The sport can grow while remaining connected to its cultural roots. But growth should not mean that the communities that gave Dambe its meaning become spectators in the story of its future. The question is no longer simply how far Dambe can go. It is who gets to decide where it goes. Written by Guest Contributor

African governments can lead by requiring environmental and social impact assessments for AI infrastructure Originally published on Global Voices Ibrahim says AI has the potential to support, rather than replace, Indigenous peoples’ knowledge. She gives a positive example in Chad, where participatory mapping, satellite data and predictive AI tools have helped anticipate drought and protect herders’ migration routes. Image: Chadpix / Alamy via Dialogue Earth. Used with permission. This article by Brian Obara was originally published by Dialogue Earth on August 13, 2026 . It is republished on Global Voices as part of a content partnership agreement. It is also part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “ Indigenous Rights .” You can support this coverage by donating here . Dialogue Earth speaks with the Chadian environmental activist Hindou Oumarou Ibrahim about Indigenous perspectives on AI. As African governments develop national artificial intelligence strategies, questions of safety, economic competition and employment have dominated the policy debate. Less attention has been paid to how AI expansion may affect environments, water and biodiversity, or the rights of communities whose territories and knowledge are being encroached upon. These concerns arise at several points in the AI value chain. The associated data centres require energy, water and land, while their hardware depends on mineral supply chains. AI systems may collect and reproduce cultural, linguistic and environmental knowledge without recognising that such information is often held collectively by a community, rather than by an individual. This is important because conventional data protection frameworks tend to focus on individual data privacy and ownership, making them poorly equipped to protect collectively held information. In July, the UN held its first-ever Global Dialogue on AI Governance , in Geneva, Switzerland. Among those in attendance was Hindou Oumarou Ibrahim. She is president of the Association for Indigenous Women and Peoples of Chad , and a former chair of the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues. While there, she took part in discussions on advancing environmentally sustainable AI governance that also respects the rights of Indigenous peoples. Here, Ibrahim tells Dialogue Earth about the importance of bringing Indigenous perspectives to Africa’s AI governance debate. She explains why African governments should incorporate biodiversity, land rights and collectively owned data considerations into their AI policies. She says Indigenous peoples must be recognised as rights holders and decision-makers – especially when newfangled technology has implications for their lands or intellectual heritage. The interview has been edited for length and clarity. Dialogue Earth: As African countries develop national AI strategies, what opportunities do governments have to reflect the continent’s environmental realities and cultural diversity? Hindou Oumarou Ibrahim at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, 2023. Image by Boris Baldinger / World Economic Forum , CC BY-NC . Hindou Oumarou Ibrahim : Africa is home to extraordinary biological and cultural diversity, but it also faces significant pressures from climate change, mineral extraction, land degradation and infrastructure expansion. National AI strategies should therefore connect technological development with biodiversity protection, climate resilience, land rights and the responsible management of natural resources. African governments can lead by requiring environmental and social impact assessments for AI infrastructure. This would help protect water and land from unsustainable data centre development, and ensure that mineral demand does not drive ecosystem destruction or dispossession. They can also make Indigenous peoples formal participants in AI governance and protect collective rights over our rich and diverse cultural, linguistic and environmental data. There is also an opportunity to invest in African and community-controlled AI capacity: local research institutions, Indigenous peoples’ innovation centres, African language and culture models, and technologies designed for African and community needs, rather than external markets. What are current AI governance debates missing by leaving biodiversity and Indigenous rights at the margins? AI governance has largely been built around a western, human-centred understanding of risk. Policymakers are rightly concerned about issues such as misinformation, employment, discrimination and security. But they have paid far less attention to the natural systems that make economies and societies possible. As a result, biodiversity loss, ecosystem damage and Indigenous peoples’ rights are rarely treated as core AI governance issues. There is also a wider risk. Without ecological guardrails, AI could accelerate extraction, consumption and infrastructure development in ways that place even greater pressure on ecosystems and Indigenous peoples. Many of the lands under pressure from the mineral, energy and infrastructure sectors are Indigenous peoples’ territories and biodiversity-rich areas. AI governance cannot be described as responsible if it does not protect the ecosystems and cultures on which communities depend. What should meaningful Indigenous participation in AI governance involve? Indigenous peoples should help shape the safeguards that protect their rights, knowledge and territories. They should participate in decisions about how systems affecting them are deployed. This must be done with respect for free, prior and informed consent. Participation is not only about consultation. Indigenous peoples must be recognised as decision-makers and rights holders, particularly when AI policies, infrastructure projects or data practices affect their land, knowledge or cultural heritage. How are existing data protection systems failing to protect knowledge and data held collectively by communities, rather than individuals? Conventional data protection systems tend to focus on individual privacy. They do not adequately protect a community’s collective rights over its language, cultural heritage, traditional knowledge or territorial information. Indigenous peoples must retain control over whether and how their knowledge and data are used. Governments and companies should recognise that Indigenous peoples’ data is often collective and develop consultation frameworks that reflect this. AI companies should also audit their models for linguistic and cultural bias, include Indigenous leaders and experts throughout the process, and create mechanisms that allow communities to challenge or remove inaccurate or harmful representations. Can AI support Indigenous knowledge and conservation without replacing community expertise? There are encouraging examples in which AI is supporting, rather than replacing, Indigenous peoples’ knowledge. Some examples are outlined in a recent report to the UN Economic and Social Council on Indigenous peoples and AI. In the Amazon, Indigenous communities have worked with NGOs and researchers to use AI-supported satellite monitoring to detect illegal deforestation and mining. In Chad, participatory mapping and predictive analysis have been combined with pastoral knowledge to anticipate drought and protect herder’s migration routes. In the Arctic, Sámi and Inuit communities have integrated traditional knowledge with predictive models to monitor changes in sea ice, wildlife movements and the impacts of extractive industries. The important point is that the technology should strengthen existing knowledge rather than replace it. Indigenous peoples bring detailed, place-based understanding accumulated over generations. AI can help analyse information and identify patterns, but it cannot substitute for the cultural context, relationships and judgement that make that knowledge meaningful. AI can also help communities and conservation organisations process large volumes of information more quickly. It can support the detection of deforestation and illegal extraction, identify changes in ecosystems, analyse satellite or acoustic data, predict environmental threats and improve monitoring in places that have historically lacked resources. The strongest opportunities are those in which AI supports priorities defined by communities themselves and strengthens the capacity of people already protecting nature. But these benefits are not automatic. Technology can reinforce inequality when tools are designed without community participation, when data is extracted without consent, or when communities lack the infrastructure and funding needed to use the systems themselves. Using AI to monitor forest loss does not compensate for an AI growth model that drives greater energy use, mineral extraction, water consumption or habitat destruction. What is one AI governance recommendation you would make to world leaders? Leaders must ensure that no AI system, policy or infrastructure project affecting Indigenous peoples, their data or their territories proceeds without their free, prior and informed consent. That principle should apply across the entire AI value chain: from the extraction of minerals and construction of data centres to the collection of Indigenous peoples’ knowledge, and the deployment of AI tools in communities. This is not only about preventing harm. It is about recognising Indigenous peoples as decision-makers and rights holders. World leaders should embed Indigenous peoples’ participation and data sovereignty directly into national and international AI governance frameworks, rather than treating them as optional social safeguards. Written by Dialogue Earth