When Alison Okuda, associate professor of history at Worcester State University, set out to research migration patterns between the Caribbean and West Africa during the mid-20th century, she expected to find straightforward evidence in standard government archives. Instead, she uncovered a richer, more complex journey—one routed through the vibrant cultural hubs of London and soundtracked by the evolving rhythms of Calypso, highlife, ska, and reggae.
Her new book, Pan-African Resonance: Music, Migration, and Everyday Practice in London and Accra, released by Ohio University Press as part of its prestigious African History series, explores how ordinary people, from teachers and lawyers to university students turned musicians, forged meaningful connections across the African diaspora between the 1950s and 1970s.
Looking back at the genesis of her research, Okuda recalls looking for direct paper trails between the Caribbean and West Africa during the decolonization era only to discover that the physical paths of migrants were far more circuitous.
“I originally expected to find in the archives some kind of record, like ship records, of people migrating from the Caribbean to West Africa during the 1950s and ’60s,” Okuda said. “That didn’t exist because they all went through London. There weren’t direct shipping lines or passenger flights from the Caribbean to West Africa. I realized I had to figure out what was going on in London. It wasn’t just a stopover. People were spending years there studying, working, and making a life.”
This detour through post-war London proved crucial to the book’s narrative. When Ghana gained independence in 1957 under Prime Minister Kwame Nkrumah, the new nation sought skilled, educated professionals to build up its civil infrastructure. Nkrumah looked for talent familiar with the British professional and administrative system but preferred Black professionals from the diaspora over British expatriates to avoid prolonging colonial power dynamics.
While historical accounts often focus on political leaders like Nkrumah, Pan-African Resonance shines a spotlight on the middle-class professionals, teachers, families, and artists who built lives across these spaces.
Cover of Alison Okuda’s new book
Rather than looking solely at high-level political manifestos, Okuda examines how Pan-Africanism functioned as a lived, daily experience, often mediated by musical spaces like nightclubs, dance halls, and university events.
“We tend to assume that ordinary people aren’t engaging in political concepts,” Okuda said. “Pan-Africanism may not have been a term people were using every day, but if you look at what they were doing, they were practicing it. They were coming together, and music brought people together in ways they might not have organically found each other otherwise. I think Pan-Africanism has a much stronger legacy today because of these ordinary relationships than through the formal efforts of politicians and governments.”
In London’s diverse post-war neighborhoods, music acted as a catalyst. Migrants from different West African nations and Caribbean islands initially gravitated toward their own regional social circles and dialects. However, cross-cultural musical collaboration soon brought disparate groups into shared spaces. Bandleaders learned to play across genres to secure gig opportunities, fusing West African drumming traditions, Calypso, and Cuban influences, before ska and reggae swept through the scene in the late 1960s and 1970s.
The second half of the book follows professionals and artists as they traveled from London down to Accra, tracing how Caribbean migrants and their Ghanaian partners built communities and enriched local cultural life.
“I show that music is what’s really bringing people together. It’s a catalyst,” Okuda said. “It was getting people to socialize who might not have otherwise, especially in London where people often stayed within their own island or national groups. Music drew them together because they started to recognize shared patterns, themes, and rhythms.”
Some Caribbean professionals stayed in Ghana on multi-year contracts before moving back to London or returning to the Caribbean, while others settled permanently in Ghana, marrying local residents and establishing cultural organizations that remain active today. Through their stories, Okuda demonstrates how cultural exchange isn’t just a top-down policy, but a dynamic, grassroots process shaped by creative expression and human connection.
