- In 1556, Mónica Fernandes, an Akan woman from the coast of present-day Ghana, was forcibly transported to Portugal to stand trial before the Portuguese Inquisition.
- Her crime: seeking treatment from a local healer after a cat bite.
- What followed was a clash of cultures, a distortion of Indigenous knowledge, and a chilling example of colonial suppression.
Mónica Fernandes lived in the shadow of São Jorge da Mina, the Portuguese fortress now known as Elmina Castle. Baptised into Catholicism but rooted in Akan tradition, she moved between two worlds—one governed by European doctrine, the other by ancestral wisdom.
After suffering a cat bite, Mónica chose to consult a local healer, an ɔkɔmfoɔ, rather than the Portuguese apothecary. She received an ointment, a common remedy in her community. But to the colonial authorities, this act was heresy. Her decision to trust Indigenous medicine was interpreted as witchcraft.
The accusation escalated after a quarrel with another African woman, Ana Fernandes. Rumours spread that Mónica had cursed Ana, who later fell ill in Lisbon. The illness—described as severe facial skin peeling—became the centrepiece of the case. Witnesses claimed Mónica used chickens and yams in rituals, misreading cultural customs as sinister spells.
Mónica was detained and shipped to Lisbon, where she faced months of interrogation. She refused to confess, insisting her actions were customary, not criminal. Her defence was rooted in cultural clarity: in Akan belief, bayie refers to spiritual harm, not healing. She had treated a wound, not summoned evil.
Despite her resistance, Mónica was found guilty. The Inquisition deemed her offence minor and sentenced her to religious re-education. She was released after demonstrating Christian compliance but was banned from returning to Ghana.
Her trial, recorded in detail by the Inquisitor Jerónimo de Azambuja, inadvertently preserved a catalogue of Akan practices—rituals, remedies, and beliefs—seen through a colonial lens. It stands as a rare archival window into how empire criminalised Indigenous knowledge and displaced those who practiced it.
Mónica’s story, buried for centuries, is now resurfacing as a symbol of cultural resilience. It reminds us that colonialism wasn’t just about land and labour—it was about erasing ways of knowing, and punishing those who dared to remember.
