At ninety-three, Rev Dr Chris Hesse does not speak with the urgency of a man chasing relevance. He speaks with the quiet authority of one who has already lived through history and, more importantly, preserved it. Yet, in April 2026, across packed auditoriums in Accra, his voice carried a renewed weight as Ghana faced a truth it had long deferred. The nation’s cinematic memory survived not because of a system, but because of one man.
The renewed national attention follows the screenings of The Eyes of Ghana, a documentary directed by Ben Proudfoot, an Oscar-winning Canadian filmmaker and two-time Academy Award winner, and produced in collaboration with a team of Ghanaian and international creatives. Screenings at the National Theatre of Ghana, the University of Media Arts and Communications, Institute of Film and Television (UniMAC-IFT), and the University of Ghana have not only reintroduced Hesse to a new generation but have also reignited urgent conversations about cultural preservation, national identity, and the future of Ghana’s film industry.
Hesse’s story is inseparable from that of Kwame Nkrumah. In the 1950s and 1960s, as Ghana emerged from colonial rule, Hesse served as Nkrumah’s personal cameraman, capturing moments that defined not only a nation but an entire continent’s liberation movement. His lens bore witness to state ceremonies, diplomatic engagements, and the symbolic gestures of independence that would ripple across Africa.
Then came 1966. Nkrumah was overthrown in a coup, and in the aftermath, attempts were made to erase his legacy, including the destruction of visual records. It is here that Hesse’s legacy takes on its most profound dimension. At great personal risk and with little institutional support, he preserved more than 1,300 reels of film, storing them outside Ghana and safeguarding them for decades in the UK.
“The truth cannot be kept quiet,” Hesse said during a post-screening engagement at UniMAC-IFT, a statement that resonated far beyond the room. It was a declaration rooted in lived experience. For over sixty years, that truth remained largely unseen.
The documentary brings that hidden archive into public consciousness, but it also reveals the long, frustrating journey behind it. For more than two decades, Hesse has sought support to digitise the footage, a process critical to its preservation and accessibility. His appeals, as highlighted during the discussions, have largely gone unanswered over the years, but now, implementation persists in the pipeline as efforts gradually advance toward the digitisation of the archive.
The film’s director, Proudfoot, recounted how a chance encounter set the project in motion. “I asked the question, is there anyone still around who knew Kwame Nkrumah personally? And they said, yes. That man, Reverend Chris Hesse, lives just down the road here,” he said. That meeting marked the beginning of a collaborative effort that would span years and continents.
What drew Proudfoot was not only the historical significance but the man himself. “It was because he was a filmmaker… someone who was so charming and such a great storyteller, and had such a great memory as Reverend Hesse,” he explained. “That’s what drew me to it.” He added.
The production brought together a constellation of talent, rooted strongly in Ghana yet connected to a global filmmaking network. At its heart is Anita Afonu, an award-winning documentary filmmaker and alumna of UniMAC-IFT, whose work over the past decade has focused on uncovering hidden histories and documenting the everyday lives of people across West Africa. In The Eyes of Ghana, Afonu serves not only as a producer but as a narrative bridge between generations, carrying Hesse’s legacy forward while interrogating her own place within it.
Working alongside her is Nana Adwoa Frimpong, a film producer together with co-producers Just Baidoo and Yaw Amponsah, whose efforts helped ground the film firmly within Ghana’s creative landscape. The documentary also features the late Edmund Addo, a former projectionist at the historic Rex Cinema. His presence now carries a quiet weight, evoking a time when cinema in Ghana was communal, vibrant, and deeply rooted in everyday life.
The film’s emotional depth is enriched by Ghanaian musicians Gregg Kofi Brown and Yaw Dela Botri, whose contributions, particularly in vocals and flute, lend a haunting resonance to the narrative.
Beyond Ghana, the project draws strength from an international team led by Ben Proudfoot, who serves as director and producer under Breakwater Studios. He collaborates with Ugandan producer Moses Bwayo and producer-cinematographer Brandon Somerhalder.
The film is executive produced by Barack Obama and Michelle Obama through Higher Ground Productions, alongside John Akomfrah and other members of the production team.
The score is composed by Kris Bowers, with editing led by Mónica Salazar. The post-production process brings together a broader technical team working across cinematography, sound, and archival development to ensure the story is handled with care and historical sensitivity.
Central to the narrative is the symbolic and physical state of Rex Cinema. Once a thriving open-air cinema in Accra, Rex now stands as a fading monument to a once vibrant film culture. In the documentary, it becomes both setting and symbol. On Saturday, August 24, 2024, during the production process, Afonu and the team undertook a significant effort to stage a public screening at the site, an act that was as much about reclamation as it was about storytelling. That attempt to reactivate Rex was not merely logistical. It reflected a deeper aspiration to reconnect audiences with communal film experiences and reclaim spaces that once defined the nation’s cultural life.
Voices from the production team underscore both the scale of the project and its emotional significance. One producer described the journey as “remarkable,” reflecting on the return to Ghana years after initial filming and witnessing the impact of the work. Another highlighted the collaborative nature of the production, noting that filmmaking thrives on shared vision and trust, an ethos that shaped the documentary’s development.
For Afonu, the project is deeply personal. Having navigated identity across continents, she described the film as a process of reclaiming culture and memory, a journey that mirrors the broader national reflection the documentary has provoked.
The screenings themselves became more than exhibitions. They evolved into forums of reflection and, at times, confrontation. Students, audiences and filmmakers questioned the decline of cinema culture, the inaccessibility of archives, and the apparent disconnect between Ghana’s rich history and its contemporary storytelling.
Hesse’s response to these concerns was characteristically direct. “Let’s take care of filmmaking… everything,” he urged. It was both a call to action and a challenge to a new generation.
Institutional voices also lent weight to the moment. Professor Samuel Menassah Yirenkyi, Rector of UniMAC-IFT, praised the involvement of alumni in the production, describing it as evidence of the institute’s enduring impact. “We are proud of them. Their involvement is a testament to the quality of training in IFT and the excellence our graduates continue to carry,” he said.
Yet, beneath the accolades lies a sobering reality. Ghana’s cinematic heritage remains vulnerable. The preservation of Hesse’s archive is not guaranteed, and the broader infrastructure needed to support such efforts is still developing.
What The Eyes of Ghana ultimately achieves is a reframing of responsibility. It shifts the narrative from one of admiration to one of obligation. The burden of preservation can no longer rest on individuals alone.
As the film continues to reach audiences, its impact is likely to extend beyond the screen. It is already influencing conversations within academic institutions, creative industries, and policy circles.
For Hesse, the renewed attention is less about recognition and more about continuity. His life’s work has always been forward-looking, anchored in the belief that history must be seen to be understood.
In the closing moments of the film, and indeed in the broader discourse it has ignited, one idea becomes unmistakably clear. Hesse is not merely the “eyes of Ghana.” He is a bridge between what the nation was and what it chooses to remember.
And now, as the reels he protected begin to speak again, Ghana must decide what to do with the vision he preserved.
