For Umami and Tradition, Dawadawa

By Kareem Arthur

The fermenting of the locust seeds has been traced back to the 14th century. The process to make dawadawa takes around 72 hours, as the seeds need time to ferment. Photo by Abi Olayiwola/Getty Images.

Talking about local ingredients in sub-Saharan Africa, chef Fatmata Binta’s eyes light up when she mentions dawadawa. The founder of Fulani Kitchen Foundation says she was introduced to the African locust bean in Northern Ghana. She described to me its magical properties and abilities to enhance the flavor in your cooking, elevating a dish with depth of flavor that glides throughout and around your taste buds.

“Just this and local salt is all you need, nothing else!” she says. 

Umami is a term many people are familiar with as something we add to make food taste good—it adds intensity. Dawadawa does exactly that. It gives food that feeling keeps us wanting to go back for more. 

When I first saw dawadawa, I was struck by its appearance. The round spheres made up of many individual fermented seeds are dense and dark, almost black in color. The compliments I had heard about this ingredient meant I had to go out and find some for myself. 

I am of Sierra Leonean heritage on my father’s side. I always loved eating, but my interest in food didn't properly come about until my parents separated, so I had never taken interest as to the details that went into my food such as this. I did, however, spend most of my weekends following my grandmother to Peckham and Lewisham market, in and out of Afro Caribbean food shops, so I knew exactly where to head for dawadawa. 

At the bottom of my road there is a shop which I go to regularly. I feel a sense of nostalgia every time I step into an African and Caribbean grocery shop. Rows and rows of ingredients from my childhood leaping out at me, on shelves and along the wall. Gold packets on hooks have clear shiny windows to show off what's inside: dried shrimp, crayfish, hot, mild and sweet peppers. Once I arrived, I went straight to that golden wall, which was at the front of the shop near the counter this time. I flitted my eyes around for a few minutes then finally asked the shopkeeper for his knowledge of the African locust bean, and he guided me to the correct packet. 

Dawadawa is an ingredient native to West Africa that has been used for more than two centuries. It can be found in Nigeria, Benin and the crop has also been discovered in the Caribbean and to be grown in Haiti.

It is used in a plethora of African soups and stews, such as palm nut soup, made by heavily pounding the palm nut fruit to extract the pulp, which is then simmered with meat, spices and bitter leaf or spinach. Jollof, a rice dish cooked in a rich tomato sauce made with Scotch bonnet chile, onions, garlic, red peppers and ginger. Fakoye is a rich, deep green soup made from leaves and a popular dish in Mali. Okra soup, a stew made simply with onions, peppers, chopped or blended okra and seafood or meat also uses dawadawa. Where you might add Maggi or stock cubes, Dawadawa slots into its place.

The African locust bean is a wide spreading plant that can reach up to 20-30 meters. Most of the plant can be used for medicinal purposes and has a high nutritional content. This includes the bark, leaves, pods and the seeds. Here, one is shown growing in Benfica village, Para State, Brazil. Photo by Ricardo Lima/Getty Images.

I spoke with Olawumi Benedict, who works for GROW West Africa, an NGO that is focused on sustainable organic farming, teaching to small-scale farmers and urban dwellers. She is very familiar with the process of making dawadawa in Ghana. 

“Dawadawa is mostly not cultivated. It had been dispersed by humans, animals and hunters after eating the pulp,” Benedict says. 

It is mostly seen in the northern part of Ghana and some areas in the middle belt of Ghana. Even though the crop grows dominantly in Africa, Benedict says that “many Ghanaians to [my] knowledge, do not use dawadawa or know the value of it, and that it is mainly used by the local northerners.”

The African locust bean used to make dawadawa is available all year round. It is a wide spreading plant that can reach up to 20-30 meters. Most of the plant can be used for medicinal purposes and has a high nutritional content. This includes the bark, leaves, pods and the seeds. The crop is not farmed, but it is well taken care of and used locally. Women, generally, collect, process, preserve and look after the ingredient in the areas where it is found. 

The fermenting of the seeds has been traced back to the 14th century. The process to make dawadawa takes around 72 hours, as the seeds need time to ferment.  ​​ 

Women in Ghana harvest the seed pods by pulling them down from the trees with a crook. The husks are removed, and the seeds and pulp are placed into a wooden pestle and pounded to separate out the seeds from their cases. The husks can also be kept and eaten as they are or used as a flour to make porridge. 

The seeds are then laid out to dry in the sun for a day and then the dried seeds are sorted to remove any small stones or unusable seeds. Useable seeds are then placed in a large pot and boiled in water to soften and separate the hard coating. They are then drained and placed along with wood ash into a mortar and pounded for several minutes. Once this is complete the seeds are for the second time laid to dry in the sun. 

After the second round of sun drying, they are poured from one container to another, usually using a calabash gourd. The washed seeds flow from one calabash to another to sift away the seed coating; then the seeds are washed again to remove any remaining wood ash. 

The seeds are boiled again for two hours, and then drained and placed in a fabric bag, which is weighted to press away excess water. The seeds are left to rest for three days, until the dawadawa is fully fermented producing a sticky fermented mixture. Women then shape the mixture into small balls to conserve and store the product. 

The packets I was looking at in the shops were broken into individual beans; when I slowly pushed the individual bean between my thumb and forefinger, I noticed the texture was still slightly sticky. You can also buy dawadawa ground, and It can be added to food by either using the whole seed or sprinkled to added gradually> For this occasion, I chose to buy them whole, with the hope of grinding it myself. 

I decided the best way to explore this dawadawa for myself was of course to cook something. I settled on my favorite, okra soup, which I had been eating since I was a little girl. I opened the packet, and the pungent smell instantly locked and hooked onto my nostrils. I could feel myself becoming accustomed to the layers of the ingredient. First, it’s difficult to take apart, then slowly once you focus your mind you can begin to unpack each layer. The smell hits you, but then slowly the notes of cocoa and dark chocolate intrigue all areas of your senses. 

The process of making my soup was relaxing. Cooking a dish that holds so many memories was nice in itself, but adding something new meant I pur more thought into the making of my soup. I had mine with cassava fufu. The soup was smooth, delicate, and of course I craved more. 

I have turned to a chapter in my life at present where I'm keen to teach myself more about food from my heritage. I feel I am putting some pieces together that I've lost over the past few years. As part of the diaspora, I feel a sense of belonging when I learn new things about my history. Food and the act of cooking for me has been a beautiful way for me to explore that. I've always found the kitchen and the activities that surround the space cathartic. I feel that I can really connect with ingredients and food. There is something spiritual and grounding about that. 

There is currently a less labor intensive, manufactured version of dawadawa being produced using a soybean alternative. I fear when hearing this is that if people will begin to buy the substitute, in turn this would mean that local farmers will be at risk and the ancient practice of producing dawadawa will be lost, as the value the local people place on this crop will decrease, possibly even pushing the tree into extinction. For an ingredient that is regarded as sacred and one that needs protection, I hope we can conserve these practices and that this and many others will continue to live on as long as the years to come. 

So many ancient ingredients have revealed themselves to me recently, and there are many more I cannot wait to explore. What excites me about this chapter is when ingredients do that, the discovery uncovers a new story encouraging me to take a new turn. Dawadawa added a deepness, history, love and comfort to my food. 

The continuous use of Indigenous ingredients is important, and thought should be taken when we use them. It's not just about what we see for face value, but they all have a story to tell and hands that have touched them before us—and without which we would not be here and tales that are slowly being forgotten. 

I feel that using these ingredients is a way for us to honor the years and years of use, storytelling and processes of our ancestors. It's so important that people continue to learn and use these so that the traditions live on. 

It is believed that when dawadawa is in transit to market, a local herb called nuha nua and a red chili pepper is placed on top of the batch. This is to protect dawadawa from spirits who would want to partake and spoil it. Spirits dislike hot peppers so they will turn away and allow the beans to complete the journey to their destination leaving them to rest.