In the bustling heart of Accra, Ghana, where tradition and artistry walk hand in hand, a unique cultural phenomenon is captivating both locals and the world beyond: Ghana’s fantasy coffins, known locally as Abebuo, meaning “proverb.” These aren’t your standard, somber wooden boxes. Instead, they’re vibrant, meticulously crafted sculptures—giant pink fish, dazzling peacocks, airplanes painted with the national flag—each one a bespoke tribute to the life and identity of the person it’s meant to honor.
For the Ga people of Accra, the practice of commissioning these fantasy coffins has long been a cherished tradition, but as reported by the Associated Press, it’s now spreading across Ghana, offering a colorful alternative to the conventional. The trend has grown so much that it’s even caught the eye of international collectors and museums, who see these coffins not just as resting places, but as works of art.
What makes these coffins so special? Each one is a metaphor, a wooden riddle, a final message left behind. The design is never arbitrary. When a loved one passes, families gather to decide how best to honor them, sometimes arriving at the carpentry workshop with a clear vision, other times seeking the creative input of the artisans themselves. If the deceased was a farmer, their coffin might take the shape of the tools they used daily or the crops they grew. Fishmongers are remembered with coffins shaped like the very fish they sold, right down to the species. For chiefs, the lion—a symbol of power—is the only acceptable form, while in Labadi, a suburb of Accra, royal families are linked to the rooster, a design strictly reserved for their lineage.
“The right to a particular coffin is never arbitrary; it reflects identity, occupation, and status,” explained Nicolas Ablorh Annan, a coffin maker from Accra, in an interview with AP. His family has been in the business for generations, ever since his great-grandfather started it. For them, it’s a family enterprise, more about craftsmanship than ritual, but the meaning behind each piece is never lost. “Some coffins never hold bodies at all, destined instead for museums abroad,” Annan said, highlighting the growing international interest in these vibrant creations.
The process of crafting a fantasy coffin is no small feat. Each one takes about two weeks to complete, with costs starting around $700—a significant sum in Ghana, but one many families are willing to pay for such a meaningful farewell. The price can climb depending on the type of wood and the complexity of the design, but for most, it’s a worthy investment. Funerals in Ghana are not just solemn occasions; they’re vibrant affairs, filled with music, dancing, and colorful displays of cultural heritage. The fantasy coffin, with its bold forms and vivid hues, becomes the centerpiece, transforming the atmosphere and offering a moment of levity in the face of grief.
Eric Kpakpo Adotey, a carpenter who specializes in these coffins, described the effect they have on mourners: “People forget for a moment what’s inside; they admire the coffin and the atmosphere shifts.” According to AP, laughter blends with tears at these funerals, and the sorrow is softened by the creativity and artistry on display. For the bereaved, each coffin is more than just a final resting place—it’s a story carved in wood, a proverb to be read and remembered.
The artistry behind these coffins is not lost on the wider world. In fact, international demand is on the rise. Annan is currently working on six fantasy coffins that are set to be shipped abroad the week following September 13, 2025. Some of these coffins will never see a burial ground; instead, they’ll be displayed in museums or private collections, celebrated as examples of Ghanaian ingenuity and cultural expression. “International interest is growing, with many foreign clients ordering coffins primarily for exhibitions as art pieces,” Annan noted. It’s a fascinating twist—objects designed for the most personal of ceremonies now taking on new lives as global art.
The fantasy coffin tradition has deep roots among the Ga people, but as AP’s coverage shows, it’s becoming a widespread practice throughout Ghana. Families from all walks of life are embracing the chance to send off their loved ones in style, using these colorful creations to tell stories, honor legacies, and celebrate lives well lived. The practice is so visually striking that, as one AP photo gallery put it, “the coffins are colorful and can make dying seem attractive.” It’s a sentiment that speaks to the transformative power of art—even in the face of mortality.
But what drives this desire to turn a final farewell into a spectacle of creativity? For many Ghanaians, it’s about more than just standing out. The coffin becomes a symbol, a message to the living as much as a tribute to the dead. It’s a way of saying, “This is who I was. Remember me not in sorrow, but in color and joy.” The metaphors are everywhere—a fisherman’s boat, a teacher’s chalkboard, a pilot’s airplane—each one a testament to the individual’s journey through life.
Of course, not everyone sees the coffins in the same light. For some, especially those outside the Ga community, the practice can seem extravagant or even irreverent. Yet, as the tradition spreads, it’s clear that the appeal transcends boundaries. The fantasy coffin is, at its heart, a celebration of identity—a way for families to assert control over how their loved ones are remembered, even as they say goodbye.
Collectors and curators, meanwhile, are drawn to the artistry and the stories these coffins tell. The fact that some are created solely for exhibition, never intended to hold a body, speaks to their status as objects of cultural significance. As Annan’s family business demonstrates, the line between ritual and commerce can be a fine one, but the meaning remains: each coffin is a carved story, a proverb in wood, a final message to the world.
As Ghana’s fantasy coffins continue to capture imaginations at home and abroad, they offer a powerful reminder that even in death, there is room for creativity, for color, and for joy. The tradition stands as a testament to the enduring human desire to be remembered—not just for how we died, but for how we lived.
