Assemblages of basalt and limestone monoliths, sculpted with low-relief human features, populate the lush tropical rainforests of southeastern Nigeria and southwestern Cameroon. These enigmatic creations are concentrated at roughly thirty individual sites across the Cross River region. The area is home to an intricate web of languages, traditions, and artistic practices shaped by numerous communities: Ejagham [Ekoi], Efik, Oron, Yakurr, Bahumono, Bette, Yala, Igede, Ukelle, Bekwarra, Mbube, Qua, Akunakuna, Boki, and Ofutop. Within this vibrant mosaic of peoples, the monoliths are most directly attributed to the Bakor peoples, a group comprising several core clans, notably the Abanyom, Ekajuk, Nde, Nnam, Nselle, and Nta, who created and utilized these stone sculptures within various villages and subcommunities: Alok, Okuni, Eganga, Òwòm, the Nnam settlement of Ntitogo, and Nkum areas such as Nkum Iyala and Nkum Akpambe.
The stone monoliths in this territory were first systematically surveyed by Philip Allison, a British official who served in the Nigerian Forestry Service between 1931 and 1960. His work documented close to 300 examples in situ, ranging from small stelae under half a meter in height to imposing columns up to two or three meters tall. The monoliths are typically arranged in circular or oval groups on hilltops or clearings, where they are often oriented facing inward toward a central space—a configuration suggesting they were intended for communal gatherings, perhaps demarcating sacred precincts or public meeting points integral to the social and ritual life of the Bakor and the wider regional communities.
Dating the Monoliths
The dating of the akwanshi (or akwansisi; “ancestors in the ground” in Ekoi) monoliths reflects a tension between archaeological findings, which suggest an Iron Age origin, and oral genealogies that place their cultural apex between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries. The British colonial officer Charles Partridge first documented the monoliths in 1905, while the surveys of Allison in the 1960s established a dominant interpretive framework. Drawing on oral genealogies from the Nta clan of the Bakor, Allison posited that a sequence of thirty-nine atoon (kings), each with an average reign of approximately ten years, marked the genesis of monolith carving around the early sixteenth century. He concluded that the last of these rulers died around 1900, thus situating the tradition between about 1500 and 1900.
However, Nigerian scholars Frank Enor and Jide Chime have challenged the validity of Allison’s king-list method, arguing that African kings often reigned for extended periods, ranging between twenty-five and thirty-five years, thereby significantly extending the possible inception of the akwanshi tradition. This critique aligns with archaeological data uncovered by the Nigerian archaeologist Ekpo Eyo in the 1980s. His excavation at the town of Alok yielded a radiocarbon date of approximately 200 CE, thus undermining the late dating model and corroborating local oral traditions pointing to deeper antiquity. Additional excavations in Calabar, where pottery inscriptions related to designs found on the monoliths have been dated between 400 and 1400, reinforce this longer cultural continuum. Art historians have similarly drawn stylistic connections between the monoliths and regional wood sculptures, especially those linked to the traditions of the Oron people and Ekpe, a Cross River secret society associated with the Ejagham. These findings suggest not just aesthetic evolution but the transmission of motifs—body marks, status indicators, and ancestral embodiments—across centuries. However, the interpretations and values attached to such motifs likely varied across geography and time.
The diverse communities in the Cross River region likely developed nascent versions of akwanshi monoliths in the early first millennium CE. The tradition then expanded and diversified between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries and declined in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries as a result of British colonial representatives, who undermined the authority of local leaders overseeing monolith rituals, and Christian missionaries, who condemned the stones as “idolatrous,” orchestrating the destruction of the sculptures, and pressuring communities to abandon ancestral veneration. This phased model offers a dynamic view of cultural continuity and innovation, foregrounding African epistemologies and reclaiming the monoliths as embodiments of Bakor cosmology, spirituality, and political memory.
Artistic Style and Formal Analysis
The format and style of the monoliths exploit the natural forms of boulders with minimal, low-relief carving on one face of the stone, often leaving the back plain. The front displays bold eyes highlighted by arched brows, a distilled nose, and an open oval mouth. Additionally, almost all feature beards, conveying a sense of maturity, masculinity, and wisdom. The top of the stone is usually rounded or tapered, evoking a phallic shape. This form references reproduction and fertility, as does the inclusion of a prominent navel, the link between generations, on many examples. These details may indicate that the stones represent ancestral patriarchs or founding lineage figures, visually codifying ideals of genealogy and seniority in the community.
Beyond this basic form, the monoliths are richly decorated with intricate abstract motifs that adorn the face and torso. Artists carefully arranged various patterns on the stone surface, including spirals, concentric circles, diamonds, triangles, zigzags, and chevrons. One striking monolith , created in the town of Ntitogo among the Nnam people, features a chain of low-relief circles extending down from either eye and part of a concentric circle motif that extends beyond the base of the fragment. These designs may reference cicatrization patterns, which among the Bakor and neighboring groups were traditionally used to signify a person’s initiation status, clan affiliation, and societal rank. Thus, when we observe a monolith with an array of ornate cheek spirals or chest markings, we are likely “reading” a coded biography of the ancestor.
These markings also resemble motifs employed in nsibidi, an ancient and graphic system of writing legible only to initiates of powerful secret societies that operate throughout the Cross River region. These motifs were inscribed on architecture, textiles, the human body, musical instruments , and masks to convey foundational narratives and instill social values. A hide-covered headdress produced by an Ejagham or Bale artist featuring nsibidi motifs across the cheeks and foreheads of its two faces was involved in Ekpe secret society performances intended to win the favor of forest spirits and instill social order. The presence of related symbols on the monoliths suggests that they may have functioned as community archives, encapsulating collective memory, clan identities, and ancestral laws, while also acting as focal points for rituals that connect the living with the deceased.
While all akwanshi share these basic features, an incredible range of motifs, styles, and details reflect the geographic and temporal diversity of the tradition. Art historians have attempted to classify them into stylistic groupings and chronological phases. The most distilled and schematic examples, only lightly carved, are thought to be the earliest and likely date before the fifteenth century. Those from the sixteenth to roughly the eighteenth centuries are defined by a more prominent phallic form with minimal facial detailing and a simple navel motif. The most elaborate examples, featuring finely carved facial features and extensive cicatrization patterns, are thought to be the most recent. Likely carved in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the figures bearing more clearly defined anthropomorphic features may reflect the influence of increasing intercultural contact during the transatlantic slave trade and early colonial period. The shift toward naturalistic human features and intricate body markings coincides with increased regional mobility and trade.
As the slave trade intensified, the Cross River region became a nexus for interactions between inland communities, coastal traders (including Efik and Ejagham middlemen), and European agents. Rather than directly imitating new visual ideas encountered through this activity, it is likely that local artists selectively incorporated or adapted them within their own established cultural and aesthetic frameworks. This exposure to diverse artistic traditions—such as the naturalistic wood carvings of the Ejagham or the symbolic nsibidi script used by the Ekpe society—likely inspired Bakor artisans to incorporate more detailed iconography into their monolithic figures. Simultaneously, the arrival of iron tools via trade with Europe enabled finer sculptural precision. Elaborate cicatrization patterns may also reflect a conscious assertion of Bakor identity amid destabilizing external pressures, transforming the monoliths into both artistic innovations and political statements.
Cultural and Ritual Significance
Anthropological research and oral traditions provide insights into the contexts of the use and meaning of the akwanshi. Local Bakor communities attribute supernatural origins to this corpus. In one account, an Ejagham informant relayed that “the stones were created by otherworldly powers and emerged out of the ground like trees.” Indeed, by referring to the monoliths as “ancestors in the ground,” the Bakor and Ejagham peoples reinforce their spectral associations. According to communities living near the Nta village complex, dozens of carved and uncarved monoliths are situated around the burial locations of historic kings. However, excavations under a few monoliths have so far uncovered no human remains, indicating that the stones are not literal grave markers; they may instead serve as commemorative effigies and sites of intercession with the ancestors.
Anthropologists and art historians have thus postulated a wide range of performance and activation contexts associated with lineage and clan history for these monoliths. Given their phallus-like forms and emphasis on generative symbolism, they may have played a role in fertility and agricultural rites. The monoliths may also have served as ancestral focal points for other community festivals and rituals, their symbolic imagery communicating values and instilling social order. These ideas are supported by recent ethnographic research among Ejagham and Bakor communities, which indicates that the stones were periodically activated with libations, offerings of kola nuts and other foods, and rites to honor the dead.
Ultimately, the akwanshi represent spiritual and communal knowledge and serve as permanent “message boards” that preserve cultural continuity while guarding esoteric meanings. They coexist with nsibidi, whose layered symbols—some public, others restricted—form a mode of encoded communication that complement the monoliths. These intertwined systems demonstrate West African artisans’ innovation in creating sophisticated communication strategies that ensure cultural resilience and preserve memory against erasure. The coexistence of these monumental sculptural “texts” and nsibidi script underscores the region’s rich, multimodal approaches to recording and communicating complex ideas.