Single Motherhood in Ghana (in Brief Perspective)

I remember when I was a child, growing up in the 'hoods of New York City, witnessing hordes of women, including my own mom, struggle with single motherhood.  Back then, I was naive and unlearned in the ways of the world.  In fact, it wasn't until I got into the college and began formally studying social sciences that I really came to appreciate how important responsible fathers are to the upkeep of a family.

Later, upon moving the Africa, I also began to understand the role that actual patriarchs play.  But even as a child, I was able to gather that something was wrong, that single mothers were under an inordinate amount of pressure, especially financially.

In my naivete, I was under the impression that my generation was the first and also would be the last composed of a high population of single-parent children.  My mother, Gloria Hayes, grew up under a committed dad.  Moreover the television, arguably the most powerful form of socialization in American society, was replete with depictions of two-parent families or, in the case of Diff'rent Strokes, maybe a single (adoptive) dad, but no single moms that I can remember.  But most importantly, I was saying to myself that after growing up amidst all the heartbreak, dysfunctionality and traumatic experiences of the 'hood, that none of us in our right minds would proceed to put ourselves and our own children under that same type of pressure.

Since then, I learned that things aren't that simple.  In fact, single motherhood has proliferated in generations subsequent to my own.  I was a 1970s' baby, and it seems that we may have been the first generation of mass single-parent children.  But since then, single motherhood has more or less become the norm.

(NO) WELFARE IN GHANA

I remember when I first started studying African culture and being under the impression, even if only subliminally, that such issues weren't as pressing on this side of the world.  To some degree, that may be true.  But what makes single motherhood potentially more bothersome in places like Ghana is that over here, welfare programs do not exist to help such individuals.  Or maybe they do, on the books somewhere, potentially aiding a handful of people.  But by and large, they simply are not present.

I remember a few years ago, when Ghana launched this program that afforded GH₵15 per month to single mothers.  That isn't a substantial amount of money at all, but back then it was noticeably more valuable than it is now.  And regardless of how effective that amount may or may not be in the grand scheme of things, it still represented progress, when a state can start providing charity to needy citizens.  So I applauded the initiative, even if only for its symbolic value.  But I strongly doubt if it's still active.  Or if it is somehow, I never heard anyone on the ground ever speak of benefitting from it.

The reason I'm bringing that up is because, you often hear pundits stateside argue that women are more inclined to irresponsibly have children in environments where they know that the government will assist in taking care of such offspring.  But I'm here to tell you that, based on what I've observed, it's not that cut-and-dried, because even in parts of the world where the government doesn't take care of anyone, single motherhood is problematically proliferating.  I have a number of theories as to why this is so but will not use this current post to go there.

RESPONSIBE PARENTING & CHILD-GENERATED NOISE POLLUTION (IN PERSPECTIVE)

The place where I currently live, I don't think there's so much of a problem of single parenthood as there is irresponsible parenthood.  But let my clarify that I'm making that statement from the perspective of someone who grew up in the United States, not in Ghana.

For instance, it's not uncommon to see very small children here, sometimes as young as two or three, roaming about on their own.  About a week ago, this child I know who isn't even old enough to speak approached me not too far from the front of her house and asked for a snack, as I was walking down the road at 9:00.  There were a number of people passing by, and by the looks of things, no one found it unusual for the child to be out there like that.

Meanwhile, for those of us who grew up in places like NYC, most of us know that if you let a small child roam in such a manner, there's the very realistic possibility that you may never see him or her again.  But Ghana is obviously different.  I'm not saying that kidnappings or pedophiles don't exist out here.  But at the same time, this isn't a place where wickedness is as widely accepted and practiced as it is in the United States.  But that said, it still alarms me - I guess you can say as a foreigner - seeing things like that.  And of course, not all Ghanaian parents allow their children such freedom.

And the funny thing is that sometimes, amidst my many travels, I may befriend a child, and the parent(s) may tell them not to speak to me, as if I intend to do them some evil.  It reminds me of this saying that one of my brothers used to favor, that people fear what they don't understand.  And what I find ironic in those situations, in the case of single mothers for instance, is that they, in their own minds, are able to just look at someone like me and judge them untrustworthy, yet they couldn't spot the deadbeat dad in their own baby fathers in advance.

That said,  I don't like living in houses where there's a lot of children nor where they tend to congregate to play.  I guess you can say that these days children, no matter what part of the world you're in, operate largely without adult guidance.  So there's a lot of noise and screaming and all types of sh*t.  Meanwhile I'm someone who, being primarily a remote worker, tends to - unfortunately all things considered - spend most of the day in the house.

In Ghana, it's sort of a cultural norm for older children, especially siblings or those close to the family, to physically assault - or what some may call "discipline" - their younger peers.  So the situation out here isn't like the States, where there's a lot of violent youth-on-youth crime.  But violence amongst children exists nonetheless.

Then, there's also parental negligence.  There was recently a situation where a child was injured in front the crib, screaming his ass off.  It was just a superficial wound, but that's how some children are when they see blood.  Meanwhile, no adult in the vicinity minded him.  And as for his parents, even if they were somewhere around, from what I've observed they probably would just ignore him anyway.  So I went out and treated the boy, and he immediately stopped crying.  And the next day, I noticed that he stopped speaking to me.

I used to give the children small change to buy snacks, but one of the older girls proceeded to tell me that her father said they shouldn't accept anything from me anymore.  By this point, things like that don't affect me as much emotionally.  After all, it is a parent's job to protect their children from what they perceive as a potential threat.  But I don't think adequate protection consists only of 'don't speak to this adult' but beyond that not really paying attention to the child.  If anything, he should have come personally and told me what he thinks the problem is.  If nothing else, that would have at least given him the opportunity to know me better and truly ascertain if I'm a threat.

Another common cultural practice is Ghana is to let children cry, at the top of their lungs, as long as they want.  It's not so much like the States for instance where if a child is crying too long or too loudly, the parent will tell them to shut up.

Admittedly, the Ghanaian method is more humane.  But you'd be surprised how powerful children's lungs can be.  When a small child is freely going at it like that, you can hear them from as far as a block away and even further when it's otherwise quiet outside.

I remember once reading that nomadic Native American tribes, fearing being detected by an enemy, would take unruly babies out to the bush and let them scream their heads off, with no one visibly around to attend to them, until they learned to be quiet.  In other words they were teaching small children, using somewhat of a tough love method, that they weren't going to get what they want by being spoiled.  As far as I know, such innovative methods don't exist in Ghana.  So imagine living in the same house or next door to such a situation.  If you're not accustomed to it, doing so it can be very challenging.

CONCLUSION

But that said, I don't want to end this article on a negative-sounding note.  One of the reasons small children are able to move about more freely in Ghana is because, generally speaking, people are in fact more humane than they are in places like the United States.  Also, I would generally argue that if a woman gets pregnant, giving birth is preferable to abortion.  So parents out here - and especially the likes of single mothers - should be applauded for exhibiting such bravery in an inhospitable economic environment.  It's unlikely they're ever going to get any palpable support from the state or private sector.  And as far as NGOs are concerned, even in the few places they do decide to intervene, their presence tends to be cursory and fleeting.

What I will say in closing though is that for outsiders who are considering moving to Ghana, perhaps you should regard the likes of wild babies as being just as viable a source of noise pollution as churches, mosques and discos.  But at least when it comes to unruly children, they tend to be completely quiet in the late night.  Also it's pretty easy to placate them, especially if you're a caring adult that they're familiar with.