Accra, Ghana//-The conversation with Araba started on a throwaway football line. Ghana was going to play against its old “enemy” Uruguay the following day in the Qatar World Cup.
She was the only one wearing a Ghana flag head scarfs among the many young women selling various snacks at the traffic light, which had turned red.
I rolled down my window and asked her which team she thought would win the match. The Black Stars, of course. The light turned green. I waved and moved on. A few days later, I saw her at the same spot; I teased her about our loss to Uruguay.
Over time, we became friends of a kind. Neither of us knew the name or anything about the other, but I looked around for her any time I got to that intersection, and I think she looked forward to our brief chats, especially as I always bought some of her stuff.
Then, I didn’t see her for a week or two; long enough for me to notice her absence. The next time I saw her, she told me her child had been unwell, so she had to stay home to look after the child.
Out of curiosity, and because the light stayed longer, we chatted for a bit. She told me that her child’s father had disappeared even before the baby was born.
This became our new topic for the few moments the traffic light system allowed us to talk. Then, one day, she just said casually that almost every young lady hawking stuff at that intersection was in the same situation of being single mothers to absent, unavailable, or disappeared baby-fathers.
This pricked my interest, so I have gone on to talk to a few more people and read a bit about poor single mothers in Ghana. I have not investigated this on a scale big enough to make any concrete claims, but I have seen enough to conclude that Ghana’s hidden shame is in plain sight everywhere every day.
By simple extrapolation based on my limited research, I think there must be many thousands of young women in Araba’s shoes. I am aware of the figures provided by the Ghana Statistical Service on the number of households headed by single mothers and other statistics on single mothers in Ghana, but I doubt that this category is captured in any survey.
The single mothers I am talking about are not heads of anything. They are existing in a statistical limbo. For many of them, their relatives back home may well not be aware that they have even become mothers.
It is a very simple scenario. Young women arrive from their hometowns and settle in the peripheral settlements around Accra. These are satellite communities around places like Kasoa, Amasaman, and Ashiaman.
They know nobody, or perhaps, they are offered hospitality by someone they know for a short period until they meet a young man who offers them a place to spend their nights. Inevitably, a relationship develops, and a baby is born.
By then, the man – father of the child has either done a runner, or the relationship has soured. He moves on and the baby becomes the sole responsibility of the young mother.
In Ghana, being a single mother comes with a host of challenges, especially for those living in poverty. These women face a range of obstacles, from financial insecurity to social stigma, making their lives difficult and stressful.
In this two-part article, we are discussing the plight of poor single mothers in Ghana, highlighting the issues they face and the possible solutions to their problems.
One of the most significant challenges facing poor single mothers in Ghana is financial insecurity. Most of the single mothers in the category in question work long hours in low-paying jobs, or they may struggle to find work at all.
For most of them, the job is to take anything that they can sell on some kind of credit and account at the end of the day to the owner or the source from which they take their wares.
According to Araba and her friends, on good days, they can make about 30 cedis selling “pure water”, plantain chips, “nkatee Burgher”, and the rest. On bad days, as when it rains, some of them go home empty-handed.
Despite single motherhood becoming an upward trend, it carries a social stigma. Single motherhood is often viewed negatively in Ghanaian society, leading to discrimination and exclusion.
It is for this reason that many of these single mothers make no effort to track down their baby-daddies. This search would only expose them to ridicule and further stigmatisation. Usually referred to as “born one”, having a child in tow lowers their prospect of finding lasting relationships.
Additionally, poor single mothers in Ghana face challenges in accessing any kind of opportunities or services for themselves and their children. One young woman told me that she came to Accra to find money to fund her education, but that dream has evaporated as she spends whatever she ends on her child.
Almost all of them had hopes of continuing in education or trades apprenticeships but with a baby to look after, they have had to shelve their ambitions. Furthermore, because most of them don’t have fixed accommodation, it is difficult for them to access social services even where they are available.
Despite the National Health insurance Scheme, one of the main headaches of these young women is health care for themselves and their children. Their struggles for health and heath care often makes their financial situation worse. If a child falls seriously ill, the entire savings of the mother can be wiped out with a few visits to the hospital.
At this point, the question is, why is there no education and contraception available to these young women? Contrary to popular misconceptions, many young women, far from being promiscuous are actually pathetically naïve about sex.
This is due to sex being a taboo subject in most homes. Young women only hear sermons and homilies, but no practical education about how to protect themselves. Thus, issues of social and economic importance are turned into moral ones, although no one would deny that learning to look after themselves must be part of their education.
Sermons on morality are obviously not enough; if we want this situation to change, we must not seek to change these young women, but to change society as a whole.
Next week, we will ask about the whereabouts of the absentee baby-fathers, and what we can do to help these young women.
By Nana Kwasi Gyan-Apenteng
Email: kgapenteng@gmail.com
