Nestled along the Gulf of Guinea, Togo is a small but historically rich West African nation. Its past is a tapestry of ancient kingdoms, colonial exploitation, and post-independence struggles—a story that resonates with today’s global conversations about decolonization, economic inequality, and cultural preservation. In this deep dive into Togo’s history, we’ll explore how its past shapes its present and what lessons it offers in an era of climate crises, geopolitical shifts, and calls for reparative justice.
Long before European ships appeared on the horizon, the land now known as Togo was home to thriving communities. The Ewe people, believed to have migrated from present-day Nigeria around the 11th century, established decentralized but culturally cohesive societies. Their oral traditions, music (like the famous "Agbadza" rhythms), and intricate kente cloth weaving remain pillars of Togolese identity today—a testament to Africa’s often-overlooked pre-colonial sophistication.
By the 16th century, the transatlantic slave trade reached Togo’s shores. Portuguese, Danish, and Dutch traders built forts along the coast, including the infamous "Slave Coast" stretch. The irony? While Europe’s industrial revolution was bankrolled by slave labor, Togo’s societies were disrupted—a historical wound that echoes in today’s debates about reparations and systemic racism.
In 1884, German explorer Gustav Nachtigal signed treaties with local chiefs, declaring Togoland a German protectorate. Unlike brutal regimes elsewhere, Germany initially promoted Togo as a "model colony," investing in railroads and plantations. But forced labor under German rule—especially in growing cocoa and cotton—laid the groundwork for modern exploitative supply chains. Sound familiar? It’s a precursor to today’s fast fashion and chocolate industry scandals.
Germany’s loss in WWI led to Togoland’s division between France (modern Togo) and Britain (now part of Ghana). The arbitrary borders split ethnic groups like the Ewe—a colonial legacy fueling modern tensions over migration and identity in West Africa.
Togo gained independence in 1960 under Sylvanus Olympio, its first president. A Pan-Africanist educated at the London School of Economics, Olympio rejected the CFA franc (a colonial currency still used today) and sought economic sovereignty. His 1963 assassination—orchestrated by France with local collaborators—highlights the violent suppression of Africa’s post-colonial leaders. This shadows today’s Francophone Africa protests against the CFA franc and French military presence.
Since 1967, Togo has been ruled by the Gnassingbé family—first Étienne, then his son Faure since 2005. While stability is touted, protests over electoral fraud and human rights abuses mirror global struggles against authoritarianism, from Belarus to Venezuela. The youth-led "Togo Debout" movement, demanding term limits, embodies the same spirit as Sudan’s revolution or Hong Kong’s protesters.
Togo’s 56km coastline is vanishing at 5m/year—one of Africa’s worst erosion rates. Rising seas threaten Lomé’s bustling ports, a crisis linking Togo to small island nations like Tuvalu. Yet, local initiatives like mangrove replanting show grassroots climate resilience.
With 80% of Togolese working in the informal sector, tech startups like "Cauri Money" (a mobile payment system) are leapfrogging traditional banking—an African innovation trend challenging Western financial systems.
From the annual Voodoo Festival to the global success of Togolese artist Toofan, cultural soft power is reclaiming narratives often dominated by poverty porn. It’s a reminder that Africa’s future isn’t just about aid but agency.
In a world grappling with colonial amnesia, Togo’s story is a microcosm of larger truths: the roots of inequality, the resilience of marginalized nations, and the urgent need for equitable global systems. As movements like #BlackLivesMatter and #RestitutionNow gain momentum, understanding places like Togo isn’t just academic—it’s essential for building a fairer future.
Next time you sip fair-trade coffee or debate climate reparations, remember: the echoes of Togo’s past are all around us.