A Journey Through the Living African Heritage of Salvador
Adewale Emosu’s Sacred Streets of Salvador: Living African Heritage in Bahia is a compelling exploration of the deep and enduring connections between Africa and Brazil. The book, which began as a journalistic assignment, has evolved into a rich and thoughtful narrative that captures the essence of Salvador’s cultural landscape. Emosu, a former sports editor at the Tribune, was initially sent to cover the 2014 FIFA World Cup in Brazil. However, his journey took an unexpected turn when he was tasked with documenting the remnants of Nigerian culture in Brazil. This side story, titled “Bahia: Even in Brazil African heritage lives on,” earned him the 2015 CNN/MultiChoice African Journalist of the Year Award in the culture category.
Over the years, Emosu remained deeply connected to Bahia, and this connection eventually led to the creation of his 160-page book. Using participant observation—a classic ethnographic tool—he brings the city to life for readers, offering an intimate portrait of a society where African memory pulses through every street, festival, and tradition.
The book is divided into five parts and 12 chapters, each exploring different facets of Salvador’s identity. Emosu invites readers to see the city not just as a tourist destination or a UNESCO-recognized historic site, but as a living testament to resilience and creativity. He describes the streets as storytellers, echoing the voices of those who have shaped the city over centuries.
The History and Legacy of Bahia
The first part of the book delves into the history of Bahia, located on the Atlantic Coast. It highlights how the region became one of the most significant points of entry for enslaved Africans in the Americas. The wealth of the city was built on sugarcane plantations, where enslaved Africans played a crucial role in creating its riches. Despite being forced to leave their homelands in West and Central Africa, they carried with them their languages, stories, recipes, healing arts, and reverence for the sacred. In Bahia, these elements were woven into new patterns, disguising deities as Catholic saints, blending West African spices into Brazilian stews, and using drums to express both memory and survival.
Religion, Festivals, and Cultural Identity
Emosu explores various aspects of African life and influence in Bahia, including religion, festivals, dress, and food. One of the central themes is Candomblé, a religion that plays a vital role in the city’s cultural fabric. For Emosu, Candomblé is more than a religious practice—it is a way of organizing life around ancestry, nature, and the sacred. He introduces readers to the Orixás, divine forces of nature and human character at the heart of Candomblé. These include Oxum, the goddess of rivers; Ogun, the warrior representing iron and labor; and Yemanjá, the queen of the sea, who offers protection and maternal care. The author also details the foods associated with these deities, such as acarajé, caruru, and amalá, which appear on altars and street corners, often prepared by women in white lace and flowing skirts adorned with colorful headgear and beads.
Food, Music, and Street Life
In the second part of the book, Emosu delves into the significance of food, music, and movement in the streets of Salvador. He traces the Yoruba roots of acarajé (akara-bean cake) and explains how the Baianas—women often seen wearing lace dresses, turbans, and beaded necklaces—prepare, fry, and serve it on the streets. He also discusses the presence of similar dishes, such as eko (agidi), known as akasan in Bahia, and moin-moin, referred to as abará. Emosu emphasizes that the Baianas are more than just sellers of street food; they act as cultural guardians, protecting a living heritage that blends religion, memory, and identity.
Carnival and Resistance
Carnival, arguably Brazil’s most famous export, is also a focal point in the book. Emosu reveals that it is not merely a festival of joy and excess, but a powerful act of remembrance and resistance. He highlights groups like Ilê Aiyê, Olodum, Malê Debalê, and Muzenza, which give form and rhythm to a new kind of street carnival rooted in ancestral pride, Pan-African consciousness, and artistic self-determination. For Emosu, Salvador’s Carnival is a stage where history, identity, and power collide in rhythm and color. He describes it as a sacred drama where joy and protest are inseparable.
Capoeira and the Transmission of Knowledge
Capoeira, a martial art that combines dance, fight, and song, is another element Emosu explores. He highlights its historical significance and how it represents the movement of history itself. The author also touches on the theme of street education, examining how elders pass down knowledge to the younger generation.
The Future of Afro-Brazilian Culture
Emosu raises urgent questions about the future of Afro-Brazilian culture in Salvador. He asks how this heritage will withstand the pressures of tourism, commercialization, and redevelopment. He also considers how youth can inherit living traditions without reducing them to spectacle and how communities can protect sacred knowledge in a world eager to commodify it.
Conclusion
With a background in English Language and Literature, Emosu confidently steps into the role of ethnographer, delivering a thoughtful and layered account of the endurance of African heritage in Brazil. His work is a laudable achievement, offering a near-flawless exploration of Salvador’s cultural identity. The book is a must-read for anyone interested in the deep and lasting connections between Africa and the Americas.
