By the 17th century, the Dutch, British, and Danes had each staked claims along the Accra coastline, often within close sight of one another. Fort James, built by the British in Jamestown, and Fort Crèvecœur, established by the Dutch in what would become Usshertown, were barely a cannon shot apart. Tensions between these rival powers were inevitable. While major battles were rare, their conflicts often played out through proxy — by arming or backing different Ga clans and chieftaincies. Alliances with local rulers were critical, and European powers vied for loyalty by offering firearms, alcohol, trade benefits, and political recognition.

One of the most overlooked examples of this dynamic was the rivalry between the Danes and the British in the late 1700s. When the Danes constructed Fort Augustaborg in Teshie in 1787, it was a clear signal of their intent to solidify influence east of Accra. The fort’s strategic placement unsettled British officials, who feared Danish interference in trade routes leading to Osu and beyond. Though no direct military action occurred between the two European powers at Teshie, records suggest the Danes and British each engaged with opposing local factions, contributing to escalating tensions between the Ga communities of Teshie and La.

Local rivalries themselves were often intensified by colonial presence. Teshie and La, two neighbouring Ga-Adangbe towns, experienced periodic friction over land, authority, and access to coastal trade. With European forts acting as anchors of power, these towns sometimes sought the support of the foreigners stationed within. The Danes, firmly entrenched in Teshie, maintained strong relations with its leaders. La, on the other hand, developed more British-leaning sympathies. This indirect polarization led to minor skirmishes and an undercurrent of hostility between the two towns that echoed the wider imperial competition unfolding along the coast.

Further east, Danish holdings in Old Ningo and Ada faced their own conflicts. Fort Fredensborg and Fort Kongensteen, built to secure trade around the Volta estuary, were occasionally threatened by inland raiders, particularly from Anlo-Ewe groups operating near the delta. These raids were often aimed at disrupting the Danish slave and goods trade. In response, the Danes fortified their forts and supplied local allies with weapons, drawing the area into cycles of violence that reflected both local ambitions and broader economic competition.

Even in the absence of direct war, the pressure of colonial interference on local political systems was profound. By the late 19th century, as the British absorbed Danish and Dutch holdings, they also began to intervene more openly in the selection of Ga Mantsemei (kings of the Ga people). This created internal divisions, particularly in Accra, where traditional leaders saw their authority undermined by foreign-appointed chiefs or colonial administrators. Protests and civil unrest followed, especially during periods of taxation, forced labor, and property seizure.

One particularly revealing episode occurred in 1862, when a powerful earthquake struck Accra. Christiansborg Castle was severely damaged, and in the resulting chaos, colonial order temporarily collapsed. Riots and looting erupted in the streets. Though not a planned rebellion, the unrest demonstrated just how fragile colonial control could be — and how resentment simmered just below the surface.

In the broader history of Ghana’s coastline, the Accra–Teshie corridor is often overlooked in favor of more dramatic sites of resistance. Yet the region tells a subtler story: one of diplomatic maneuvering, local agency, and layered loyalties. Forts like Augustaborg, Fredensborg, and Crèvecœur were not just military outposts — they were political chess pieces in a larger game of survival, influence, and adaptation.

Through trade deals, rivalries, and resistance, the people of Teshie, La, Ningo, and Accra shaped their own histories. Even when caught between empires, they were never simply passive recipients of colonial will. Their actions, negotiations, and occasional defiance remain central to the story of Ghana’s coastal past.